A century and a half ago, the maharajas and rajas of India argued with the British viceroy over how large a gun salute they should receive while British engineers were connecting their worlds with telegraph wires and turning their kingdoms into statelets.
This month, the British king and the American president, clothed in medals and white tie, respectively, met in Windsor Castle while billionaire Elon Musk quietly executed the most consequential infrastructure deal of the decade: SpaceX’s $17 billion acquisition of telecom company EchoStar’s spectrum rights.
This wasn’t just another corporate transaction — it was a power grab that could fundamentally alter the relationship between a state and its citizens. Unless governments recognize the implications and evolve in response, they risk becoming Potemkin powers.
The spectrum Musk bought enables something unprecedented: direct satellite-to-smartphone connectivity without any terrestrial infrastructure. We’re not there yet, but the direction is clear: For the first time, a private company will be able to provide global communications services that bypass national networks, government oversight and geographic boundaries.
Earlier versions of satellite phones needed line of sight to the satellite. They required bulky terminals or modified devices. EchoStar’s spectrum, by contrast, operates in frequencies that can penetrate buildings and work with standard smartphone antennas. It allows direct communication with the billions of phones already in people’s pockets.
More critically, SpaceX now controls enough spectrum to offer commercial-grade mobile services globally — and the company is positioning itself to replace every other mobile operator with a service that operates entirely beyond national jurisdiction.
The timing is no accident. Handsets such as Apple’s iPhone 14 introduced basic satellite messaging, but power consumption limited it to emergencies. The iPhone 17’s improved battery efficiency will probably cross the threshold needed for routine satellite connectivity. When your phone can seamlessly switch between cell towers and satellites, it won’t be long before the base stations become redundant, making local licensing irrelevant. For governments, the change will be profound: Lose control of communications infrastructure, and you lose a fundamental tool of governance.
Since the printing press and the telegraph, governments have controlled communications within their territories — licensing operators, monitoring networks and regulating content through the physical systems that carry information.
This control has enabled everything from wartime censorship to modern content moderation, from emergency broadcasts to surveillance programs.
SpaceX is breaking this model. When citizens can communicate through networks that operate from international space, traditional regulatory tools become obsolete. Britain’s Online Safety Act, for example, requires platforms to remove harmful content and cooperate with regulators. But how do you enforce compliance when platforms can route traffic through orbital networks that bypass British infrastructure entirely?
This isn’t just about communications. Companies such as Stripe and Coinbase have already enabled millions to bypass national banking systems through stablecoins and cryptocurrency payments. People can hold dollar-denominated digital assets and execute international transfers without touching their central bank or local financial institutions, changing the nature of corporate structures, employment and taxation.
Combine unrestricted communications with borderless payments, and you have an infrastructure that allows for what economists call “accelerated regulatory arbitrage” — the ability to shop for the most favorable legal environment regardless of your physical location. Why accept your government’s speech restrictions when satellites give you an opt-out? Why use your national currency when you can transact in global digital assets?
The state’s traditional monopolies on information control and monetary policy erode simultaneously.
Britain understands this dynamic better than most. In the 19th century, its control of telegraph cables laid along ocean floors, with stations on strategic islands, all terminating in London, translated directly into global dominance.
British networks gave London advance knowledge of market movements, political developments and military activities worldwide. British operators could delay, prioritize or even modify messages passing through their systems. British control of the cables meant control of global information flows, which meant control of markets, politics and, ultimately, empires.
Musk’s Starlink satellite network in Ukraine provides a preview of this new dynamic. Within days of Russia’s February 2022 full-scale invasion, SpaceX activated satellite internet across Ukraine, providing communications capabilities that proved crucial for military coordination. Ukrainian forces used Starlink to guide drone strikes, coordinate artillery and maintain command structures, even as ground networks were destroyed.
That’s not traditional military aid; it’s private infrastructure responding to corporate calculations, creating military capabilities that no government authorized or fully controls. In future conflicts, military effectiveness might depend less on budgets than on operators’ goodwill. Sovereignty becomes dependent on corporate interest.
Musk’s timing exploits competitors’ weaknesses. Telecom company Globalstar, Apple’s satellite partner, is just starting its own buildout. AST SpaceMobile, partnered with AT&T and Verizon, is struggling with delays, including a missed deadline for launch of its first satellite at the end of August. AST is using Amazon founder Jeff Bezos’s space company, Blue Origin. (Bezos owns The Post.) Amazon’s Project Kuiper remains years behind, and EchoStar, previously a major competitor, has effectively conceded by selling to SpaceX.
This $17 billion purchase isn’t about competing in a market, it’s about shaping the market itself. With exclusive spectrum rights for direct-to-phone connectivity, SpaceX can dictate terms to device manufacturers, telecommunications companies and ultimately governments.
Consider the leverage. Need satellite connectivity for emergency services? SpaceX sets the terms. Want to ensure that your military has secure communications? Better maintain good relations with Musk. Hoping to regulate platform content? Not if the platforms route through Starlink.
In response, states aren’t entirely powerless but, until rivals are operational, their options are limited and costly.
They could ban satellite-enabled devices — but this would cripple their economies and probably prove unenforceable as devices become smaller and more integrated.
They could build competing infrastructure, such as the European Union’s IRIS² satellite constellation. But that is already years behind schedule and lacks commercial viability without massive subsidies.
They could negotiate access agreements accepting subordinate status, governing by permission of private infrastructure owners — and accept the loss of sovereignty that implies. Or they could develop new regulatory frameworks to compete with other jurisdictions and attract investment and innovation — even though satellites are beyond the reach of territorial enforcement.
Each is a choice between sovereignty and prosperity.
This won’t end government, but it will shift the hierarchy of power. Nations without satellites will become what political scientists call “hollow states,” maintaining formal authority over territory and populations while lacking control over the infrastructure those populations depend on.
The infrastructure owners — SpaceX, Amazon, Meta, Google — will accumulate what amounts to sovereign power without sovereign responsibility, making decisions that affect millions of lives. Algorithm changes that influence elections, network policies that enable or restrict speech, and platform rules that determine economic opportunities are already here.
These decisions increasingly matter more than traditional government policies. If SpaceX decides to restrict access to certain regions, that will shape geopolitics more directly than diplomatic negotiations. If payment processors change their policies, that will affect commerce more immediately than central bank decisions.
The question isn’t whether this transformation can be stopped, but whether governments can evolve to maintain meaningful control over the forces reshaping collective life.
Today’s princes in parliaments and presidencies are still arguing about status, while SpaceX makes it clear that the debate is no longer about controlling data but rather the infrastructure itself. Power has shifted to the heavens — and, unless they grasp the change, governments will be left on the ground as every new launch and line of code makes it harder for them to reach the stars.