Space, the Final Frontier or Our Best Chance for Liberalism?

Image of the Galactic Senate Rotunda from Star Wars Episode I: the Phantom Menace. Where “At the height of its rule, the Galactic Republic was governed by a body of Senators representing the many worlds of the galaxy.” The Galactic Senate serves as a symbol of interstellar diplomacy, perhaps what awaits humanity.  (Star Wars Databank https://www.starwars.com/databank/galactic-senate)

Most have not been to outer space, but there's something about the idea of breaching terrestrial boundaries that I imagine might make earthly rules seem somehow… less binding. This sentiment leads me to ask; what are the real limitations of our actions? Are there real consequences to our decisions or are they merely socially constructed? In this article, I seek to briefly cover the foundational context of International Relations theory. In doing so, I answer that: no, social and political consequences are not real until they are formally established, but oftentimes it’s about who you know, not what you know or what you choose to forget. People impose consequences, both through institutions and through standard operating procedures, so as naturally social beings, people are the crucial variable to appease.

Until that point of the formal establishment of provisions, any repercussion for an action is determined by the precise nature of the situation as it is fixed in time. The reaction is infinitely unique and speculative– meaning that it is suffocated by the unpredictability of the chaotic scene. In a condition of perpetual chaos, anarchy warrants all actions and vindicates all actors until either chaos or anarchy is made governable. One of the foremost assumptions necessary to the understanding of how countries interact with each other is that they are sovereign actors. One of our world’s most prominent thinkers on the topic of International Relations was the late Kenneth Waltz, who describes the state of anarchy and what it means to be sovereign in Man, the State, and War (1959). 

Each state pursues its own interests, however, defined, in ways it judges best. Force is a means of achieving the external ends of states because there exists no consistent, reliable process of reconciling the conflicts of interest that inevitably arise among similar units in a condition of anarchy.

Waltz is a Realist, meaning that given the situation of anarchy, both he and his adversaries are capable and willing to act in their own self-interest. If there is no superior authority to prevent this anarchic behavior, you’d be a fool not to prepare for the worst-case scenario. So, if we temporarily disregard expected retaliation, yes, you could theoretically do anything you want at any given time. But you will only be able to get away with using this strategy if or until you encounter a third-party arbiter. This body (or a collection of bodies) establishes norms, laws, and consequences: how you should act, how you can no longer act, and how your capacity to act at all might be severely limited because of such an action. This is how Liberalists solve the problem of anarchy. They see international institutions as being the best third-party arbiter possible on a multinational level. For a citizen within a state, the constraints on action come in the form of law as imposed by the governing body of power, often a government. For a state acting amongst other states, this power hierarchy becomes more complicated. In today's today's international system of governance, legal constraints on our actions come through formal doctrines and mutually supported treaties. Gone are the days of dual hegemony, where the United States and the Soviet Union were able to unilaterally impose regulations on their satellite states. The 21st century and the 2020s especially will be remembered as a multipolar-hegemonic international scene, where not one, not two, but many states have significant influence abroad. As a result, no single state today has the right or the capacity to impose law on any other state. 

To remedy this situation of anarchy, third-party institutions such as the European Union, or the more gubernatorial United Nations, intervene to establish and enforce a comprehensive set of laws limiting the capacity of any sovereign state on the international stage. International Law is constructed in a sort of two-step process. The first step is to gain state signatories and ratify foundational documents. For the United Nations, these foundational documents are the Charter of the United Nations (1945) and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948). Trusting that any self-respecting nation will remain true to their word, the UN expects members to adhere and subject themselves to these principles. After establishing membership through foundational endorsement comes the second step of constructing international law– interpretation. Any future jurisprudence following a just interpretation of the allowances and constraints listed or implied by the foundational documents is ratified into law. Aside from these institutional laws, each state also has additional treaties and agreements with some other nations on the side that influence their actions. It is important to note that underneath these formal agreements is a crucial assumption of integrity. Because at the end of the day, you really could do whatever you want. There are many situations where the only risk is socially constructed. In these cases, reputation is at stake. Reputation proves to be the most severe consequence for any actor seeking to levy international “power” by way of diplomacy rather than coercion. Coercion is forceful and to be avoided so as to lead by example rather than fear. This is what I mean by it's about who you know; it's about whose trust you have earned, who hears your message, and who you have inspired to act toward your common cause. International institutions provide the perfect platform for this discourse.

At the same exact time that a space shuttle detaches itself from the rockets that shepherded it into orbit, humanity may be so inclined to try and abandon restrictive law and bureaucratic formalities. There’s little doubt that being “out of this world” could be one of the most explicit acts of theoretical freedom we could possibly take. To account for this newfound liberation, we must reaffirm our commitments to international institutions. For a nation that feels particularly restrained by the limitations they’ve subjected themselves to, there might be just enough justification to detach themselves from earthly rules. This becomes especially important as humanity begins to think of Mars in a more realistic sense. No longer do we think of Martians as little green men. Martians will be those human beings that first travel to the Red Planet in the near future. Our Martian aspirations are reminiscent of a story we have heard before. If Mars is to Elon Musk as North America was to Columbus, the six-month journey to an entirely new planet all of a sudden seems about as daunting as taking on the mighty Atlantic and venturing towards the end of the earth might have been in 1492. Looking directly into the eyes of death, with hope as our vehicle, we may consider now, more so than any other time in human history, how our laws and society might survive the journey throughout our solar system. 

Ty Brownlow is a Senior at Georgetown University studying Government and Economics. He is interested in space exploration, fiscal responsibility, international affairs, and artificial intelligence broadly. Specifically, Ty is interested in how these concepts challenge policymakers at their foundations to make effective, efficient, and just decisions for the future of humanity.