"We're Playing by 1987 Rules in a 2025 Game": Former White House Official on Why Export Controls Are Killing U.S. Competitiveness

Sean Wilson was helping Americans get out of jail in North Korea when he first entered government service.

Almost two decades later, Wilson would find himself as Director of International Space Policy at the National Space Council, where he influenced policies regarding access to American space technology.

"Sometimes when people think about international cooperation, there's a sense that we're just doing this to be nice," Wilson tells me. "At the Space Council and in the White House more generally, international space partnerships are often a tool to serve broader U.S. interests."

Those interests—such as national security, economic dominance, foreign policy requirements, and scientific leadership—collide in space with unique intensity. Every satellite launched, every technology shared, every partnership forged or denied reshapes the balance of power above our heads. Wilson spent years at the center of those calculations. Now, freed from the constraints of government service, he's ready to explain what's really happening up there—and why the decisions being made today will determine whether America remains the dominant space power.

During your tenure as Director of International Space Policy, you orchestrated what many consider the most significant expansion of U.S. space cooperation in decades. What's the most ruthless calculation you had to make when choosing which countries got access to advanced U.S. space technologies versus those that were deliberately excluded? How do you personally reconcile promoting "peaceful" space cooperation while knowing these same technologies enable military capabilities?

"Sometimes when people think about international cooperation, there's a sense that we're just doing this to be nice, or we just want to get along better with others," Wilson begins, cutting straight to the heart of a misconception that drives him crazy. "There are parts of the government motivated by those ideals. But at the Space Council and in the White House more generally, international space partnerships are often a tool to serve broader U.S. interests."

He breaks down the calculation matrix behind these decisions: "You can define that as national security interests, economic interests—creating innovative industries, developing the workforce, and growing the broader prosperity of the American people. There are foreign policy drivers too. Perhaps the President and Vice President are seeking to strengthen relations with a certain country, and space becomes a tool to achieve some broader objective that the U.S. cares about, which may not even be space-related."

The ruthlessness, he explains, comes down to prioritization. "It's not necessarily set by how much money a country has, or how good their space program currently is. It comes back to: can they help us in a national security sense, economic sense, foreign policy sense, or science sense in a concrete way, such as providing foreign investment into U.S.-led architectures? That's how we looked at it."

But Wilson saves his most pointed critique for America's own export control system—the real barrier to effective cooperation. "With respect to international space cooperation, one key challenge that we had to tackle ruthlessly was actually an internal one—the U.S. export control system for dual-use technology." He explains the problem with barely concealed frustration. "The Missile Technology Control Regime (MTCR) is probably the most famous and relevant here. The MTCR originated in 1987 and its implementation in U.S. regulations is guided by various U.S. policy documents, but it essentially represents a regime of controls on dual-use technologies for space, missile, and unmanned technology." The MTCR was born in the Cold War—designed for a bipolar world where the U.S. was trying to protect a clear technological edge over the Soviet Union. Originally created by the G-7 to prevent the spread of nuclear-capable ballistic missiles, it now includes 35 member countries. But much of the logic of the U.S. approach to the MTCR, Wilson argues, is outdated.

"The catch is that the competitive landscape of the Cold War—including the U.S. technology advantage over the Soviet Union—is very different from the landscape we have now, where space, missile, and unmanned technologies have proliferated widely around the world to both allied and adversary nations. What the system hasn't done on the U.S. side is catch up with that reality." "In some cases, we also had to deal with the fact that adversary nations are already cooperating on these technologies. We needed to get the U.S. government out of the way so U.S. industry could compete better."

And the consequences are far-reaching. "We're struggling to adapt our ability to cooperate with other countries on advanced technology to meet our current needs with a system that's stuck in a 1987 world. This has had deleterious effects over time—U.S. companies sometimes cannot export articles and services for which there is widespread foreign availability, which means they won't generate revenue and will cede industries to foreign competitors in certain markets, while worsening the trade balance. This leads to a hollowing out of the U.S. industrial base and workforce."

During his time at the White House, policymakers attempted to address the problems stemming from how the U.S. was implementing its MTCR commitments through a number of efforts. Wilson stated that the January 2025 policy reform announcement was long overdue but still needed to be implemented into U.S. regulations, ideally as urgently as possible, and that further foundational reform of the MTCR and the U.S. interpretation of its commitments under it were needed.

Perhaps an even more concrete example of the difficulties of modernizing the U.S. export control system to meet the needs of competition in this century is the AUKUS submarine deal—the landmark security partnership between Australia, the United Kingdom, and the United States announced in 2021—which crystallized these challenges. "How do you execute a very difficult project with Australia and the United Kingdom? Trilateral work on nuclear-powered, conventionally armed submarines—it's never been done before for us." The AUKUS agreement marked the first time the U.S. shared nuclear submarine propulsion technology with an ally since its 1958 agreement with the UK—demanding unprecedented levels of technology transfer and regulatory coordination.

To make it work, Wilson said his AUKUS colleagues "had to fundamentally change the U.S. export control treatment of the United Kingdom and Australia, secure regulatory alignment of those nations' export control systems with those of the United States, and get supporting Congressional legislation."

The bottom line? "Space is not special. Similar challenges surrounding transfer of dual-use technology crop up in AI, advanced computing, nuclear energy—you name it. The space community benefits from thinking about how these challenges have been addressed in other domains."

As for reconciling "peaceful" space cooperation with military utility, Wilson offers a pragmatic framework that cuts through diplomatic doublespeak. "In U.S. space policy, all nations have the right to explore and to use space for peaceful purposes and for the benefit of all humanity, in accordance with applicable law. Consistent with that principle, the United States continues to use space for national security activities, including for the exercise of the inherent right of self-defense." This view, he notes, is grounded in legal precedent. The Outer Space Treaty of 1967—considered the foundation of international space law—bans the placement in orbit around the Earth of any objects carrying nuclear weapons or any other kinds of weapons of mass destruction, installing such weapons on celestial bodies, or stationing such weapons in outer space in any other manner. However, it does not prohibit military activity. "In U.S. policy, there's no binary between national security and peaceful purposes. National security falls under peaceful uses—or more specifically, non-aggressive national security activities."

He anchors this philosophy in history: "It recognizes that space was, from its inception, a domain of competition between major powers. This security motivation has always been present in our activities in outer space."

You've witnessed China's space program evolve from a secondary player to a major competitor during your government service. Given your current private sector perspective through the Mirai Group, which specific Chinese space capabilities should genuinely worry American strategists, and which ones are we overreacting to? Where are we missing opportunities for managed competition rather than outright confrontation?

Wilson breaks China's space threat into distinct categories, each requiring a different response. "The capability that gets the most attention is China's development of various counterspace capabilities intended to target U.S. and allied satellites."

He traces the logic behind it: "China and others have watched how the U.S. wages war since at least the 1991 Gulf War. They've observed our reliance on space for projecting power and delivering precision strike capabilities. These counter-space capabilities are intended to address that advantage, at least partially, should conflict arise." The Gulf War marked a turning point in modern warfare, showcasing the strategic power of space through GPS-guided precision weapons and satellite communications. China took note.

But Wilson points to a shift that may pose an equal or even greater challenge. "A newer challenge is China's use of space to empower itself. One approach seeks to negate U.S. advantages; the other gives China its own advantages. China's development of satellite positioning systems, communication systems, and imaging systems is increasingly enabling them to project power globally in ways that were previously unique to the U.S." One example: China's BeiDou navigation satellite system achieved global coverage in 2020, allowing China to rival the United States in precision navigation and timing. It now provides services to more than 120 countries and regions.

Wilson adds that the commercial layer of China's expansion is just as concerning. "China's development of commercial offerings in the global space market is part of this. There's obviously a good discussion regarding how 'commercial' these Chinese entities really are." But in his view, the distinction misses the point. "There are Chinese entities competing in the global space market. Whether or not they're truly commercial is beside the point—they're who U.S. companies face when trying to sell services abroad." This competition could be devastating for American firms. "Some people point out, mostly correctly, that U.S. technology is currently superior to China's in space across many areas. That's largely true, but it misses the point—technology doesn't need to be 100% equivalent to be competitive."

He outlines the strategic challenge: "If they're offering technology cheaply or practically free because it's packaged in a government-to-government deal, or comes with predatory Chinese loans, or is bundled with a port deal or other infrastructure—that's a real problem." Through its Belt and Road Initiative, China has bundled space infrastructure—satellites, launch support, ground stations—into broader development packages for emerging economies, gaining diplomatic and commercial influence in return.

U.S. companies simply can't compete directly on those terms. "U.S. companies can't match that price point or scale of offerings. This is something the U.S. and allied governments struggle with. How do you orchestrate the tools in the policymakers' toolbox together to present a compelling package to a critical emerging country when China can bring military, civil, and commercial capabilities together in one package in a way the U.S. government simply cannot?" He warns that this pattern is familiar—and dangerous. "We've seen this in numerous industries. There's a pattern to Chinese predatory industrial practices—gaining market share, driving out competition with low price points, dumping, stealing IP, etc. I'm worried the space industry may be sleepwalking into this trap. They think they're more immune to Chinese competition than they actually are."

Still, not all aspects of China's space program warrant alarm. "There's a lot of interest in Chinese human spaceflight, particularly their Tiangong space station. While there is clearly competition, I am less worried about their LEO human presence than I am their counterspace and power projection-enabling space capabilities from a strategic standpoint. Yes, they're trying to build international partnerships and pull countries away from the U.S. But we're very familiar with LEO space station dynamics from our strained relationship with Russia on the ISS."

Wilson is confident that the U.S. can compete in low Earth orbit (LEO). "As long as we give NASA the support it needs for prioritizing the deployment of Commercial LEO Destinations (CLD) and ensure that remains a priority in this administration and beyond, I'm confident U.S. industry can maintain a presence in LEO that will compete with the Chinese space station."

Where Wilson sees room for managed competition is in basic safety protocols. "There are opportunities to manage competition—not because we're nice guys, but because it's in our interest." He offers a practical example: "We have an interest in our astronauts not being killed by a stray Chinese satellite or orbital debris. The Chinese share that interest for their own astronauts' safety. Neither of us wants to see our people die in an avoidable accident that increases tensions."

The urgency is growing. Earth's orbit is increasingly congested—over 100 million pieces of debris larger than a millimeter now circle the planet, and thousands are large enough to destroy a satellite. Looking to the moon, the same logic applies. "As we look to the moon and beyond, similar communication mechanisms will be in both nations' interest. If we're both operating on the moon this decade or early next decade, we don't want a Chinese vehicle landing too close to our astronauts. They wouldn't appreciate the reverse either." Wilson stresses that coordination on safety isn't a concession—it's a necessity. "There are many coordination and communication protocols that are well within reach bilaterally. They don't require giving up any technology to China—it's simply in our own interest."

Your Japan experience gives you unique insight into alliance dynamics. With recent tensions between Israel and Iran, how should space-based intelligence and missile defense cooperation evolve among allies? What intelligence gaps could space assets fill that ground-based systems cannot?

"If we step back over the last couple of years, starting with Ukraine, we see clearly illustrated the power of commercial space ISR and communications from space in enabling a country that is on paper much weaker than the aggressor to resist effectively." The Ukrainian military's use of Starlink and commercial satellite imagery has fundamentally changed the nature of modern warfare, demonstrating how space assets can level the playing field between adversaries with vastly different conventional capabilities. Various companies are now offering sovereign ISR capabilities in a box.

"It's a resilient network that continues to grow," Wilson continues. "The lesson for many countries is stark—they can see how Ukraine uses growing commercial space capabilities to enhance their defensive capabilities and their kill webs as they think about future conflicts." And those lessons are now playing out in other theaters. "Many people are surprised by how capable commercial systems have become. Looking at Israel and Iran, commercial space has played a crucial role in the policy debate, including public evaluation of the aftermath of airstrikes leveraging a range of phenomenologies."

Wilson then addresses why space-based systems are essential for missile defense. "Why space? Well, if you want persistent monitoring of Earth's surface, you essentially have to go to space. Even if you blanket the sky with drones, it's still extremely difficult to image every inch of the Earth. And even then you probably cannot fly uncontested over an advanced adversary's airspace, as you could be shot down and cause a major diplomatic incident, as air space has a different legal regime for overflight than outer space. Space-based sensors are essential for comprehensive coverage." The threat landscape itself has evolved significantly. "The U.S. government used to worry primarily about ICBMs. They still do. But now there are hypersonic vehicles that can maneuver, plus numerous drone threats. The threat space has become significantly more complicated." Hypersonic weapons—traveling at speeds exceeding Mach 5 with the ability to maneuver in flight—pose a particularly difficult challenge for traditional missile defense systems, which were built for more predictable, ballistic trajectories.

This complexity demands an updated approach. "The traditional framework of ballistic missile defense has evolved into integrated air and missile defense (IAMD). Some countries like Russia even discuss aerospace defense, extending further into outer space. It's essentially creating a protective bubble around assets you care about—whether they're deployed U.S. forces abroad, allied or partner nations, or the U.S. homeland." Wilson emphasizes that this isn't something any nation can do alone. "Ballistic missile defense is a team sport. We never have enough sensors or interceptors. Geography often dictates where we must place sensors because the curvature of the Earth itself affects what we can see with terrestrial sensors." This reality drives major U.S. programs like the Space-Based Infrared System (SBIRS) and its successor, the Next Generation Overhead Persistent Infrared (Next-Gen OPIR), which provide critical early warning and global surveillance.

Japan, Wilson notes, is a leading example of allied cooperation on IAMD. "Japan hosts U.S. sensors and builds ships with Aegis BMD capability. They're co-developing different interceptor types with the United States. In 2024, President Biden and Prime Minister Kishida agreed to collaborate on Japan's planned LEO missile detection and tracking constellation, which could become a Japanese contribution to Golden Dome." Golden Dome, however, remains largely undefined in public discourse. "Golden Dome is challenging because we don't fully know what it encompasses yet. We know the reconciliation bill included a $25 billion down payment. We know which existing programs will likely contribute. But there are probably 30–40 programs that could fall under Golden Dome if funding is confirmed." Recent comments from General Guetlein have added some clarity: "I've been given 60 days to come up to the objective architecture … First and foremost is getting out the gate on C2 (Command and Control)."

Wilson acknowledges that the integration challenge is immense. "Allies considering where to contribute could look at Japan's high-end example, but there are other areas for contribution. We need R&D on numerous basic technologies for something like Golden Dome to succeed. We need enabling technologies—more solid rocket motors, more optical communications terminals. There's much to scale up, and U.S. industry cannot do it alone currently." Indeed, the U.S. solid rocket motor industrial base has long been identified as a bottleneck—one that current suppliers are struggling to overcome amid growing demand across defense programs. Wilson sees multinational collaboration as critical to addressing those chokepoints. "We're already seeing significant cross-border partnerships addressing these bottlenecks."

Still, politics often lags behind the technical solutions. "There's what the U.S. wants allies to do, and then there's what they're able or willing to do. The trickiest area for many allies with respect to Golden Dome will be space-based interceptors (SBIs). That's probably the newest element people associate with Golden Dome." The historical sensitivities are still very much alive. "What we're seeing is an intellectual continuation of debates from the 1980s Strategic Defense Initiative. Many governments won't touch SBIs due to cost, political concerns, or strategic stability considerations."

Yet despite these hurdles, Wilson ends on a cautiously optimistic note. "Missile defense always brings political considerations for many governments. But I see significant opportunity on the horizon. If Golden Dome advances in some form, allied contributions will continue to be very important to IAMD."

Through the Mirai Group, you're seeing how private space companies navigate international partnerships that government agencies can't or won't pursue. What's the most surprising or risky partnership you've encountered that could fundamentally reshape global space dynamics? Which countries are your clients eager to work with that might surprise Washington policymakers?

Wilson begins with a partnership born from crisis. "We touched on Ukraine earlier. When Starlink is provided to Ukraine, that's clearly provocative to Russia. They haven't been shy about threatening the providers of these space capabilities." Russia's threats against SpaceX, along with its attempts to jam Starlink signals, have ushered in a new era in which commercial space companies become military targets.

Wilson points to the opening move in this campaign: "It's telling that the Russia–Ukraine war began with a cyberattack on Viasat, a commercial satellite provider. Commercial space companies in the West must now recognize: you're a potential target of nation-states simply by virtue of the services you provide to countries others oppose." That February 24, 2022 attack—launched just before the invasion—disabled thousands of Viasat modems across Europe, highlighting the fragility of commercial space infrastructure in geopolitical conflicts.

But Wilson shifts to a different kind of transformation—this one structural, not tactical. "With the Commercial LEO Destinations (CLD) program, we're moving from the ISS model—where an inter-governmental agreement clearly defines roles and where barter has played a prominent role in implementation—to commercial-led platforms where civil agencies become customers rather than owners." That shift comes with novel diplomatic and financial challenges. "If you're a commercial company, how do you structure partnerships to meet the diverse industrial and political needs of countries that want to participate but may be used to ISS governance and a barter system? At this capability level, most advanced spacefaring countries don't want to simply purchase a service from a U.S. space company. It's a politically difficult sell for many governments to just write an American space company a check - their industry and voters want to know there's something it in for them too."

One workaround is creative structuring of international commercial partnerships. "We're seeing interesting partnership structures emerge with cross-border industrial and investment alliances. European governments might say, 'We're not funding this U.S. company's station. We're funding our industry, which is a co-owner of this station.' The high capital requirements of building a commercial space station amidst constrained NASA budgets are further encouraging cross-border alliances to make projects financially viable."

Yet some of the most surprising developments, he says, aren't coming from the traditional powers—but from the Global South and Middle East. "Companies seeking long-term growth markets aren't just looking at today's developed countries but also at tomorrow's emerging powers. India is absolutely crucial—huge industrial base, a growing population with a large number of English speakers, growing numbers of excellent engineers for both software and hardware." India's cost-efficient space missions have drawn global attention—its Chandrayaan-3 lunar lander, for example, was completed for just $75 million, a fraction of the cost of comparable Western missions.

But it's the Middle East where Wilson sees the most dramatic changes unfolding. "Saudi Arabia and the UAE are investing massive amounts in space across the board. They have governmental programs but are also investing directly in companies, trying to leapfrog traditional development paths." Saudi Arabia's ambitions now include domestic satellite manufacturing and a human spaceflight program, backed by deep investments, including sovereign wealth fund investments, exceeding $2 billion. What sets these Gulf nations apart, Wilson says, is their strategic clarity. "The Middle East has shown savvy understanding that while everyone wants government-to-government partnerships—working with NASA etc.—the government channel is sometimes the slowest way to advance in space." Instead, they're opting for a faster lane in addition to government-to-government cooperation. "The much quicker route is working directly with world-leading commercial industry and universities in the United States—going straight to the source of new technology and innovation. We're seeing this recognition, particularly in the Middle East, backed by significant capital."

And this approach isn't limited to buying U.S. services—it extends to building America's next-generation space ecosystem. "They'll be players not just in developing their own industry but in developing America's space industry. Middle Eastern financial entities have carried funding rounds for some U.S. companies. Financial firepower is another way allies and partners contribute—it's sometimes under the radar but absolutely crucial." Examples abound, from the UAE's investment in Virgin Galactic to Saudi Arabia's backing of multiple U.S. and international NewSpace ventures. Looking forward, Wilson sees more growth in unexpected places. "We'll see significant growth in South America, Africa, and Southeast Asia, which all need space services. It's important for U.S. companies to compete there, because otherwise we're ceding those markets to China."

Yet American firms often hesitate when looking overseas. "Space companies, due to the export control headaches—or hangover—are sometimes reluctant to enter certain markets, even when there's political impetus to partner with Country X. They may not want to assume that risk." As more countries seek space capabilities, commoditization is inevitable. "As this technology becomes commoditized—like CubeSats today—satellite manufacturing may become like making cars. There's high-end and low-end, budget and premium, but many countries are able to build them." His final assessment is clear: "It's becoming a truly global market—minus China."

If you were designing a "space doctrine" for the next administration, what would be the one unwritten rule that everyone follows but no one talks about? What space red line, if crossed, would fundamentally change the nature of international relations?

"USSF Chief of Space Operations General Saltzman has been very focused on doctrine development, releasing a string of documents including Space Force Doctrine Document 1. Separately, Joint Publication 3-14, which covers Space Operations, is updated periodically," Wilson begins, referencing recent efforts to codify the military space doctrine. He notes that it marks a clear evolution. "Before the Space Force existed, you could argue that a lot of formal space doctrine was essentially air doctrine with a search-and-replace function—swapping 'air' for 'space.'" However, air and space have notable differences, and doctrine should account for that. "If someone destroys a satellite in space, the consequences could last multiple generations—even 1,000s of years—depending on the orbit. That's different from the air domain, where debris falls to the ground. Nobody likes debris in their rice field, but you can clean it up. I can't easily or cost-effectively clean up space with current technology. To put it another way, irresponsible actions in space can have long-term consequences."

For example, China's 2007 destructive, direct-ascent anti-satellite (ASAT) missile test generated more than 3,000 pieces of trackable debris, much of which still threatens other spacecraft—and will continue to do so for decades to come. That permanence changes the calculus in ways the air or land domains never had to consider. When asked about true red lines, Wilson stated that vis-à-vis space, senior policymakers have tended to seek to maximize their own options space and are therefore reluctant to set red lines, which could invite challenges to their credibility and well as potentially constrain leaders' options in a future.

Wilson stated that "The Outer Space Treaty prohibits the placement in orbit around the Earth of any objects carrying nuclear weapons or any other kinds of weapons of mass destruction, installing such weapons on celestial bodies, or stationing such weapons in outer space in any other manner. If a nation were to place a nuclear weapon in orbit, it would be a violation of the OST, but it would be up to national leadership how to react to such a development."

That foundation has recently been tested. "The last administration pushed to reaffirm that OST obligation at the UN Security Council, and Russia famously vetoed it—an interesting development." Efforts to build new norms of responsible behavior in space have also been attempted. "Previous administrations pushed for norms of responsible behavior. A prominent one: in peacetime, don't conduct destructive, direct-ascent ASAT missile testing." He explains the rationale behind that norm. "This addresses what a number of nations have done previously—destroying targets and creating long-lived orbital debris. The idea is simple: in peacetime, don't do that particular kind of testing. The consequences could last too long." Still, he doesn't see that effort as being a priority under current leadership.

But perhaps the most profound—and least discussed—unwritten rule has to do with how the use of violence against space objects is perceived in contrast to human casualties. "Satellites, as they say, don't have mothers. Damaging or destroying them differs from killing someone. We've seen this with terrestrial drones—the threshold for violence against unmanned systems is much lower due to the absence of direct human casualties." This potentially opens the door to expanding the space of competition. "If an adversary destroyed a U.S. satellite—even a critical one—a president might hesitate to respond with lethal force on Earth over a satellite loss. This distinction between human and hardware casualties is crucial."

The asymmetry between potential adversaries further complicates deterrence calculations. "Different countries have different stakes in terms of their level of investment in and reliance upon space-based capabilities. North Korea has fairly minimal satellite investments. They may not care what happens to their limited space assets compared with how much the United States cares about its satellites—the North Koreans don't need them for their strategy. That asymmetry challenges the U.S.—how do you convince someone not to attack U.S. space capabilities when they have a lot less investment in space? When we talk about deterrence, which is aimed at the specific leadership of a given nation, we can't focus in an isolated way on space – we need to think about the interrelationships of all strategic domains. When you account for the different deterrence calculation for multiple nations at the same time, things get even more complicated."

Wilson captures the dilemma plainly: "How do you encourage restraint against U.S. space capabilities when another power may not care as much about their capabilities?" He believes China may represent a different case in the future—but an uncertain one. "As China's space investments grow, they'll have more to lose—though that doesn't guarantee more restrained behavior."

Author's Analysis

Sean Wilson's career arc—from freeing Americans from North Korean jails to shaping export control reform—offers a rare, unvarnished window into U.S. power projection in orbit. What emerges from his testimony is not a simple contest of rockets or satellites, but a race to rewrite decades-old rules before China, Russia, and a rising cohort of new entrants do it for us.

At the heart of his critique is an export-control regime still frozen in a Cold-War mindset. The Missile Technology Control Regime (MTCR), crafted in 1987, was meant to bottleneck nuclear-capable missiles; today it throttles U.S. firms while comparable hardware proliferates worldwide. Wilson notes that the system "hasn't caught up with reality," starving American companies of revenue and ceding entire markets to foreign rivals. Unless Washington modernizes these guardrails—without abandoning non-proliferation goals—the United States will keep handicapping its own industrial base.

China exploits that vulnerability with a playbook perfected in other sectors: state-backed firms offer satellite constellations, launch capacity, and financing at prices Western businesses cannot match. The goal is not technological parity; it is lock-in. By bundling "practically free" space services with infrastructure loans and port deals, Beijing buys influence while crowding out U.S. suppliers. Wilson warns that many American executives "sleepwalk" into this trap, assuming space is immune to the predatory tactics that hollowed out steel or solar panels.

Yet the competitive map is bigger than a U.S.–China binary. Gulf investors, including sovereign-wealth funds, are underwriting financing rounds for American startups, while India leverages low-cost moonshots to vault into great-power status. These partners are not merely customers; they are becoming shareholders in the U.S. space industrial base, accelerating technology flows far faster than traditional government-to-government channels can manage. Any coherent doctrine must therefore treat capital markets and supply-chain partnerships as integral elements of deterrence, not afterthoughts.

Wilson's most sobering insight concerns escalation. Satellites "don't have mothers," so an adversary may view their destruction as a lower-risk provocation. The 2007 Chinese ASAT test left decades-long scars; another such event could poison entire orbits and imperil astronauts of every flag. The unwritten rule, then, is simple: hardware losses are more tolerable than human losses. Deterrence must make clear that attacks on critical space systems risk cascading consequences that will not stay confined to the heavens.

Taken together, Wilson's observations demand an updated playbook: modernize export controls, out-innovate China's subsidized offerings, court emerging capital from the Global South and Middle East, and embed rapid "de-confliction" channels to keep orbital incidents from sparking terrestrial war. In his words, we are still "playing by 1987 rules in a 2025 game." The first administration that internalizes that truth—and acts on it—will shape the strategic high ground for decades to come.

About Sean Wilson

Sean Wilson is the Founder and CEO of The Mirai Group (TMG), which provides strategic advice and support to clients interested in international partnerships in the aerospace and emerging technologies sectors.

Prior to founding TMG, Sean had an extensive career in the U.S. government, including serving as former Director of International Space Policy for the U.S. National Space Council. He also worked at the U.S. Department of State in the Office of the Under Secretary for Arms Control and International Security, the Office of Emerging Security Challenges, the Office of Missile Defense and Space Policy, and the Office of Korean Affairs. He completed rotations in the Department of Defense during his time as a Presidential Management Fellow and in the Japanese government during his time as a Mansfield Fellow.

In addition to leading TMG, Sean serves as a Vice President at League Advisors, an independent investment bank providing advisory services to middle-market companies and investors in the United States and globally. He is also a Senior Associate (Non-Resident) at the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS).

He earned an M.A. in International Affairs at the George Washington University and a B.S. in International Affairs at Georgia Tech.