When Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin put their bootprints in the Moon’s dusty surface in the Sea of Tranquility, they weren’t planting a flag to claim territory. They were fulfilling a promise that the sky is for everyone. But 50 years later, a new space race is underway. NASA’s Artemis program plans to send astronauts back to the Moon by the end of the decade, China and Russia have announced a rival lunar research station, and private companies funded by billionaires are preparing to mine lunar ice and minerals.
The question “Who owns the Moon?” has gone from science fiction to a live legal and political dispute. This article looks at the treaties that govern the Moon, national laws that try to carve out property rights, and competing visions for the next era of lunar exploration. As an opinion piece, it argues we must resist the temptation to replay old colonial patterns in space and instead create an inclusive legal regime that treats the Moon as a commonwealth.
The Outer Space Treaty – Noble Ideals Meet Vague Language
The foundation of space law is the 1967 Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, also known as the Outer Space Treaty. Signed during the Cold War, it states that the exploration and use of outer space “shall be for the benefit and in the interests of all countries” and that outer space, including the Moon, is “the common heritage of all mankind”.
To prevent a space grab, celestial bodies are not subject to national appropriation by claim of sovereignty, use or occupation. States are responsible for national activities in space, whether by government or private entities, and must authorise and supervise those activities. States are required to act with “due regard” to other interests and to consult before causing harm, and installations on the Moon to be open to representatives of other states on a reciprocal basis.
These provisions enshrine egalitarian principles, but they leave room for interpretation. The treaty does not ban private property in space; it prohibits national appropriation. Legal scholars note that “due regard” is vague, meaning early settlers could cordon off “safety zones” around landing sites to protect equipment and effectively control access. The treaty’s open‑access clause likewise allows installations to be closed unless reciprocal inspection is offered. In practice, whoever arrives first can set the terms.
The Moon Agreement – a Noble Attempt That Few Countries Embraced
In 1979 the Agreement Governing the Activities of States on the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies (the “Moon Agreement”) tried to fill the gaps left by the Outer Space Treaty. It says the Moon and its resources are the common heritage of mankind and that their exploitation shall be governed by an international regime. It prohibits national appropriation and calls for the sharing of benefits. The agreement envisions the establishment of an authority like the UN’s seabed authority to manage lunar resources.
Despite its noble ideals the Moon Agreement didn’t get the support. As of mid-2024 only 17 states have ratified it and none of the major space-faring nations are parties. Critics say it’s too restrictive and deters investment by imposing international control over resources. As a result the agreement never created the international regime it envisioned. Its lack of adoption means the Outer Space Treaty remains the primary legal framework and there’s a lot of ambiguity.
National Legislation – Grabbing the Shovel Before the Rules are Set
Over the past decade, several countries have passed national laws to allow for the commercial exploitation of space resources. The US was first with the Commercial Space Launch Competitiveness Act of 2015. Section 51303 states that US citizens engaged in the commercial recovery of asteroid or space resources can “possess, own, transport, use and sell” those resources, while explicitly disavowing any claim of sovereignty over celestial bodies. Critics point out that the law doesn’t define key terms like “commercial recovery,” so it’s unclear if land or in-situ resources can be owned.
Luxembourg passed its Law on the Exploration and Use of Space Resources in 2017, which states that space resources can be appropriated and companies can have property rights over what they extract. Japan’s 2021 Space Resources Act defines space resources as water, minerals and other natural resources and has a licensing system for exploration, extraction, processing, storage and transport.
Companies submit a business plan to the government and, upon approval, get ownership of the resources they recover, subject to international agreements. The UAE passed a similar law in 2019 and other countries (US, Luxembourg and Japan) have signed agreements with private firms to buy lunar materials. While these laws emphasize compliance with international obligations, they effectively say that once extracted resources can be owned and traded.
Such unilateral legislation is part of a broader trend: states are positioning themselves to benefit from lunar mining before a multilateral regime is in place. The risk is that early actors will create faits accomplis that become custom and practice and marginalise states that can’t mount their own missions. That would be the opposite of the Outer Space Treaty’s promise of equality.
The Artemis Accords – a U.S.‑Led Framework for the New Lunar Order
In 2020 NASA released the Artemis Accords, a set of bilateral agreements to operationalize the Outer Space Treaty and support the Artemis program to land the first woman and first person of color on the Moon and establish a sustainable presence. As of July 24 2025, 56 countries have signed the accords, including Nigeria, Canada, Italy, the UK and recent additions Norway and Senegal.
The accords reiterate the commitments to peaceful purposes, transparency, interoperability and emergency assistance and require signatories to register their space objects and share scientific data. Crucially they say resource extraction is consistent with the Outer Space Treaty and propose “safety zones” to avoid harmful interference. They also call for preservation of outer space heritage sites and mitigation of orbital debris.
The Artemis framework provides legal certainty for companies to mine the Moon but has sparked geopolitical tensions. Russia and China refused to sign, calling the accords a US-centric attempt to legitimize the seizure of lunar resources. Russian officials compared NASA’s plans to historical territorial grabs while Chinese experts accused the US of seeking sovereignty. Critics point out that only a handful of US partners negotiated the original text; others must either accept it as-is or be excluded. By creating a coalition of like-minded states around its interpretation of the Outer Space Treaty the accords risk fragmenting international law into rival blocs.
First‑Mover Advantage and the Fate of Lunar Heritage
The Outer Space Treaty’s vague “due regard” clause and the Artemis Accords’ safety zones raise a fundamental question: do early arrivals get to fence off parts of the Moon? Space law scholars warn that nothing in current treaties prevents a country or company from establishing large exclusion zones around their operations under the guise of safety. This “first‑mover advantage” could lock up the most valuable sites, such as permanently shadowed craters near the lunar south pole that harbour ice.
According to a 2020 space‑law analysis, there could be more than 100 robotic missions to the lunar south pole in the coming decade, raising the risk of collisions and contamination. Meanwhile, heritage sites from earlier missions, Luna 2 (first impact, 1959), Apollo 11 (first human landing, 1969), Chang’e‑4 (first far‑side landing, 2019) and Chandrayaan‑3 (India’s south‑pole landing in 2023), may be damaged or overrun. The Artemis Accords call for preservation, but there is no enforcement mechanism.
The Sino‑Russian International Lunar Research Station (ILRS)
To counter the U.S.‑led Artemis coalition, China and Russia have partnered to build the International Lunar Research Station (ILRS). According to an April 2025 Reuters report, the two countries plan to construct a nuclear‑powered base on the Moon by 2035 and are inviting 50 countries and 500 research institutions to join.
China aims to land its own astronauts by 2030 and will search for mineral and water resources at the lunar south pole. A RUSI analysis notes that the plan includes a nuclear reactor between 2033‑2035 and that Russia, cut off from Western space partnerships, is pivoting eastward. Unlike the Artemis Accords, details of the ILRS’s legal regime remain opaque, but the project underscores growing multipolar competition for lunar real estate.
A Nascent International Regime – The UN’s Working Group
The UN recognised the coming legal vacuum and created a Working Group on Legal Aspects of Space Resource Activities in 2021. Its mandate is to gather information on exploration, exploitation and utilisation of space resources, study how existing treaties apply, assess if an international framework would be beneficial, draft initial principles and identify issues like benefit sharing. They haven’t proposed a binding agreement yet, but the work is building momentum for a multilateral solution.
Other countries are also staking their claim in the emerging market. The Indian Space Policy 2023 has opened up India’s space sector to private companies through NewSpace India Limited and Indian National Space Promotion and Authorization Centre with a target of 10% of the global space market by 2030. Europe, Canada, South Korea, Brazil and others have joined the Artemis Accords or expressed interest, so no single bloc will dominate the future of space. The challenge for the UN will be to reconcile these diverging national interests into one regime.
Opinion – Avoid a Lunar Land Rush That Replicates Colonial Mistakes
Space lawyers compare the Moon to the high seas or Antarctica domains, where resources are managed through multilateral treaties. But the trends point to a “Wild West”. National laws treat lunar resources as commodities to be owned and the Artemis Accords codify a first-come, first-served approach by allowing safety zones and commercial extraction. The Sino-Russian ILRS responds by building a parallel order. Without a stronger international framework, early arrivals will turn the Moon into private mining concessions and geopolitical outposts.
In my view, we should resist this creeping enclosure. The Moon is not a new colony; it is a shared scientific laboratory and cultural heritage site. To honour the Outer Space Treaty’s promise that outer space is the province of all humankind, we need an inclusive regime that provides legal certainty for private actors while ensuring equitable benefit-sharing and environmental protection. Such a regime could draw lessons from the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, which established an international seabed authority and requires companies to share benefits from deep-sea mining. At a minimum, states should agree to: (1) register resource extraction activities, (2) cap the size and duration of safety zones, (3) contribute to an international fund that invests in global scientific research and infrastructure, and (4) safeguard cultural and environmental heritage. Without these checks, the Moon could become yet another arena where powerful nations externalize risk and monopolize gains.
The Moon also offers an opportunity for science diplomacy. Joint missions and shared infrastructure can build trust between rival powers. The ILRS and Artemis Base Camp should not be mutually exclusive; they could interoperate under common standards. Even nuclear power, which both NASA and the ILRS plan to use, can be developed collaboratively to ensure safety and peaceful intent. The UN working group is the right forum for these negotiations, but it needs political backing from major powers and meaningful participation from the Global South.