INTRODUCTION
In 2023, NASA’s Psyche spacecraft began its journey to a metal-rich asteroid of the same name, one whose mineral content has been theoretically valued at nearly one hundred quintillion US dollars. While this figure is a curiosity of economics rather than a realistic market proposition, it illuminates a question of growing urgency: when private companies eventually extract resources from asteroids, who legally owns them? The answer, as it turns out, is far from settled. International space law: born in the idealism of the Cold War, was not designed with trillion-dollar mining ventures in mind. This blog examines the core legal tension between the non-appropriation principle enshrined in the 1967 Outer Space Treaty[1] and the emerging patchwork of national laws and multilateral accords that are redefining who gets to profit from outer space.
THE LEGAL BEDROCK: THE OUTER SPACE TREATY, 1967
The Outer Space Treaty (OST), often called the ‘Magna Carta of space law’, forms the foundational framework for all human activity beyond Earth. Ratified by 117 states as of 2025, it rests on two seemingly simple propositions. Article II prohibits national appropriation of outer space or celestial bodies ‘by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation, or by any other means’.[2] Article I simultaneously declares that exploration and use of outer space must be carried out ‘for the benefit and in the interests of all countries’.[3]
The critical legal ambiguity lies in the gap between these two provisions. The OST clearly bars any nation from claiming an asteroid as its territory. But does extracting resources from one constitute ‘appropriation’? The treaty is conspicuously silent. Critics argue that since states cannot appropriate space, neither can private entities acting under their authority. Proponents counter that extracting a resource is no more an act of territorial appropriation than catching fish in international waters the ocean belongs to no one, yet the fish you catch are yours.
THE MOON AGREEMENT: A TREATY NOBODY HEEDED
Seeking to close this gap, the United Nations produced the Moon Agreement of 1979, which declared the natural resources of the Moon and other celestial bodies to be the ‘common heritage of mankind’, precluding private or national ownership.[4] On paper, this would effectively prohibit commercial asteroid mining. In practice, the Moon Agreement is a legal dead letter. As of 2024, only 17 nations have ratified it,[5] and none of them is major spacefaring powers. The United States, Russia, China, and India are notably absent from its signatory list. Without the participation of states with actual space capabilities, the Moon Agreement has remained practically irrelevant to the real-world evolution of space law.
THE RISE OF NATIONAL SPACE MINING LAWS
In the absence of a binding international regime, individual states have moved to fill the vacuum through domestic legislation. The United States led the way with the Commercial Space Launch Competitiveness Act of 2015 (the SPACE Act), which expressly grants American citizens engaged in asteroid mining the right to ‘possess, own, transport, use, and sell’ any resource obtained in space.[6] The law carefully disclaims any assertion of sovereignty over a celestial body itself it is a property right over extracted resources, not territorial ownership.
Luxembourg followed in 2017, becoming the first European state to recognise private ownership of space resources.[7] Japan (2021) and the United Arab Emirates (2020) have enacted similar frameworks. Italy’s 2025 Space Law goes further, requiring operators to ensure sustainability and share benefits with developing nations, a notable attempt to reconcile commercial interests with Article I of the OST. As of mid-2025, over twenty countries have taken some form of legislative action in this area.
These national laws operate under the so-called ‘Lotus principle’, derived from a 1927 Permanent Court of International Justice ruling establishing that in international law, everything not explicitly forbidden is permitted.[8] Space mining advocates invoke this principle to argue that since the OST does not expressly prohibit resource extraction, it must be permissible. Critics respond that this reasoning ignores the object and purpose of a treaty explicitly designed to prevent the privatisation of space.
THE ARTEMIS ACCORDS: A SOFT-LAW WORKAROUND?
The most significant recent development is the Artemis Accords, a multilateral arrangement led by the United States that now counts 48 signatories, including India, which joined on 21 June 2023. Section 10(2) contains a provision of considerable legal significance: it stipulates that ‘the extraction of space resources does not inherently constitute national appropriation’ under the OST.[9] This is the first direct multilateral attempt to interpret Article II of the OST in a manner that legitimises commercial resource extraction.
The Accords also introduce ‘safety zones’ around mining sites, buffer areas designed to prevent harmful interference between operators. While seemingly practical, these zones raise a deeper concern: if a company can exclude others from a zone around a resource-rich asteroid, does that not amount to a de facto territorial claim? This question remains legally unresolved.[10]
The Artemis Accords, however, are non-binding instruments. Russia and China, who contest the legal validity of unilateral resource extraction are not signatories. Their exclusion creates a bifurcated international order where one bloc operates under a commercial-permissive framework while another bloc contests its legal foundations.
INDIA’S POSITION AND THE ROAD AHEAD
India’s accession to the Artemis Accords signals a pragmatic alignment with the commercial-permissive camp. Yet India has simultaneously maintained ratification of the Moon Agreement, an unusual legal position that creates internal tension. India’s Space Vision 2047 envisions ISRO and private Indian players as significant space economy participants, but India has yet to enact any domestic legislation specifically governing space resource extraction.[11]
For a country that demonstrated its space capability through Chandrayaan-3’s historic south pole landing, the absence of a domestic legal framework is a gap India cannot afford to leave open indefinitely. Italy’s 2025 approach mandating benefit-sharing with developing nations offers a model that may resonate with India’s longstanding advocacy for equitable international regimes in forums such as COPUOS.[12]
CONCLUSION
The law governing asteroid mining is caught between two irreconcilable visions of space: as a common heritage of humanity, or as a frontier open to whoever arrives first with the right technology and capital. The Outer Space Treaty’s silence on resource ownership has been exploited by powerful states to build national and bilateral regimes that effectively legitimise commercial extraction without seeking multilateral consensus. The Moon Agreement, which would impose genuine constraints, has been rendered irrelevant through non-ratification.
What is urgently needed is a binding international framework one that acknowledges the commercial realities of the emerging space economy while genuinely embedding the ‘benefit of all countries’ principle from Article I of the OST into enforceable benefit-sharing obligations. Until such a framework exists, asteroid mining law will remain a mosaic of conflicting national statutes, soft-law accords, and an increasingly strained sixty-year-old treaty a legal gold rush in which those who write the rules are also the ones holding the drills.
References:
[1] Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, Including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies 1967
[2] Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, Including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies 1967, art II
[3] Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, Including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies 1967, art I
[4] Agreement Governing the Activities of States on the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies 1979
[5] Cross Conrad et al., ‘The Future of Mining in Outer Space’ (The Regulatory Review, 12 October 2024) <https://www.theregreview.org/2024/10/12/the-future-of-mining-in-outer-space/> accessed 26 June 2026
[6] US Commercial Space Launch Competitiveness Act 2015
[7] Luxembourg Law of 20 July 2017 on the Exploration and Use of Space Resources
[8] The SS Lotus (France v Turkey) [1927] PCIJ Ser A No 10
[9] Artemis Accords 2020, s 10(2)
[10] Ethan Hutchings, ‘Navigating the legal landscape of space mining: interpreting international space law’ SpaceNews (18 December 2024) <https://spacenews.com/navigating-the-legal-landscape-of-space-mining-interpreting-international-space-law/> accessed 26 June 2026
[11] ‘Parliament Question: Artemis Programme’ (Press Information Bureau, 26 March 2025) <https://www.pib.gov.in/PressReleasePage.aspx?PRID=2115228> accessed 26 June 2026
[12] Charles Ho Wang Mak, ‘Redefining the Rules for a New Generation of National Laws and Agreements in Commercial Space Mining’ (Opinio Juris, 18 December 2025) <https://opiniojuris.org/2025/12/18/redefining-the-rules-for-a-new-generation-of-national-laws-and-agreements-in-commercial-space-mining/> accessed 26 June 2026
