As Earth’s orbit fills with millions of fragments from old satellites, experts warn that space could soon become too dangerous to use
Space has always been a symbol of ambition, innovation and exploration. But as the orbit around our planet grows ever more crowded, it’s also becoming a junkyard. Thousands of defunct satellites, rocket fragments and splintered debris—often romanticised as “cosmic junk”—now drift through space at terrifying speeds, threatening not only billion-dollar infrastructure but the safety of future missions.
According to the European Space Agency, there are currently over 1.2 million fragments larger than one centimetre in orbit—a size still large enough to do serious damage. For most people on Earth, orbital debris feels distant, invisible. But for those operating satellites, training for missions or building the next generation of communications infrastructure, it is a clear and growing concern.
In this feature, Tatler draws on the insights of space tech entrepreneurs Rohit Jha, co-founder and CEO of Singapore-based Transcelestial, Norilmi Amilia Ismail, founder and CEO of Malaysian smallsat company SpaceIn and Filipino analogue astronaut Kristine Jane Atienza to examine how soon this cosmic junk could jeopardise our shared future.
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The hidden menace above

Above Analogue astronauts and satellite founders warn that our cluttered space is a ticking time bomb (Photo: Getty Images)
“Even a tiny fragment can smash a satellite with catastrophic effect,” warns Ismail. Her concern is not exaggerated. The European Space Agency estimates there are more than 40,000 trackable objects in orbit, but only 11,000 of them are functional satellites. Millions of smaller fragments—too small to monitor—continue to zip around Earth at up to 25,000 kilometres per hour.
For small satellite operators like SpaceIn, debris management is a matter of survival. “Unlike larger satellites, most small ones don’t carry propulsion systems,” Ismail explains. “That means if a collision warning is issued, we have very limited or no ability to manoeuvre.” A single impact could destroy a satellite, disrupt vital services, and set back years of commercial progress.
Larger players face their own dilemmas. Jha of Transcelestial, which builds laser-based communications infrastructure, believes the real problem lies not in today’s satellite constellations but in what’s been left behind. “The challenge isn’t volume yet but legacy debris that makes up a disproportionate share of what’s out there,” he says. “Removing just a few of those large, old pieces could dramatically improve orbital safety.”
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Building a more sustainable orbit
While agencies and engineers have proposed elaborate cleanup schemes—robotic sweepers, tethered nets, harpoons—the most effective solutions, according to experts, begin long before launch. “Prevention is far more efficient than cleanup,” says Jha. “Satellites in low Earth orbit should be designed to burn up completely on re-entry or have propulsion to deorbit quickly once their mission ends.”
Ismail agrees, stressing the need for “end-of-life thinking” from the design phase. “We’re integrating deorbit mechanisms such as drag sails or dedicated thrusters from the outset,” she says. “Testing every satellite system rigorously before launch helps ensure we don’t add to the problem.” SpaceIn also commits to the United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs (UNOOSA) guideline requiring all satellites to deorbit within 25 years of mission completion—a rule more honoured in principle than in practice.
Even with compliance, coordination remains a global challenge. “There’s no traffic cop in orbit,” Ismail notes. “The congestion is real, but regulation still lacks teeth.” The rapid rise of private constellations—particularly in low Earth orbit—means that responsibility must increasingly fall to the industry itself. Jha sees this as an opportunity for leadership rather than limitation. “Behaviour always follows incentives,” he says. “If we want real change, we need to design the right financial or regulatory rewards for responsible behaviour. Without them, debris will keep being someone else’s problem.”
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The human frontier

Above There are currently over a million fragments orbiting space, according to the European Space Agency (Photo: Getty Images)
From an astronaut’s point of view, the debris issue isn’t theoretical—it’s existential. Atienza, an analogue astronaut who trains for Mars-like missions on Earth, says space junk is already a day-to-day operational risk. “Even a tiny fragment travelling at orbital velocity can puncture spacecraft shielding, threaten life support, or compromise a mission,” she says. “It’s not an abstract problem.”
Atienza believes one reason space debris doesn’t capture public urgency is its invisibility. “Unlike climate change or pollution, orbital debris feels distant because it’s out of sight,” she explains. “Yet the consequences could affect everyone—from disrupted communications to stalled exploration.”
Her training offers lessons for navigating such hazards. “Analogue missions teach us how to anticipate constraints and respond under stress,” she says. “In a debris-filled orbit, awareness, teamwork, and quick decision-making are vital. That mindset—thinking collectively and responsibly—is what space governance needs now.”
For Asia, the stakes are especially nuanced. As Jha notes, most of the region’s connectivity still relies on terrestrial networks rather than satellites, meaning debris has yet to endanger daily life. But the danger is creeping closer. “As more nations and companies join the space economy, we must ensure sustainability doesn’t lag behind ambition,” says Atienza. “Even smaller nations without launch programs can help through research, education and advocacy.”
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Towards a cleaner, safer orbit
If left unchecked, the cascade of collisions—known as the Kessler Syndrome—could one day render low Earth orbit unusable. The implications are staggering: losing access to GPS, weather forecasting, and global communications, not to mention halting future exploration.
Yet amid this looming threat lies opportunity. Ismail points out that orbital sustainability itself is a burgeoning market: “The debris removal sector alone could be worth up to US$1.5 billion by 2030.” For forward-looking companies, leading responsibly isn’t just ethical—it’s profitable.
Ultimately, as all three experts suggest, the future of space will depend not just on our capacity to explore but on our discipline to preserve. “The debris problem has never been about technology,” says Jha. “It’s about incentives.”
Perhaps that’s the final lesson: humanity’s next great leap forward will not come from conquering space, but from learning to clean up after itself.




