The Politics of the US Abandoning the International Space Station

The International Space Station (ISS) has long stood as the most visible and enduring symbol of post-Cold War international cooperation in science and technology. Since its first modules were launched in 1998, the orbital platform has embodied an uneasy but genuine partnership between the United States, Russia, Europe, Japan and Canada. Yet as Washington prepares to withdraw from the project by the end of the decade, the decision reveals more than a shift in technical priorities: it signifies the end of an era in international diplomacy, a transformation in the global balance of space power, and a realignment of the very idea of outer space as a cooperative frontier. The politics of this retreat are complex, spanning budgetary, strategic and ideological considerations.

From Partnership to Pragmatism

For three decades, the ISS served as the capstone of the American-led liberal order in space. When the United States invited Russia to participate in the mid-1990s, it was both a gesture of reconciliation after the Cold War and a practical way to employ Russian aerospace expertise, thereby reducing proliferation risks. The inclusion of Europe and Japan reinforced the vision of space as a domain for scientific collaboration rather than competition. However by the 2020s, this ideal had waned. The ISS became increasingly expensive to maintain—its annual operating cost exceeding US$3 billion—and the ageing infrastructure demanded frequent repairs. Congressional enthusiasm declined as newer priorities emerged, particularly the Artemis programme to return humans to the Moon and the burgeoning partnership with private companies such as SpaceX and Blue Origin. The United States’ decision to phase out its role in the ISS is therefore grounded as much in economic rationality as in a new strategic pragmatism.

Strategic Reorientation: From Orbit to the Moon

The deeper logic behind Washington’s withdrawal is strategic reorientation. Low Earth orbit has lost its prestige; it is no longer the frontier of discovery but a well-trodden commercial zone populated by private satellites and tourism ventures. By contrast, the Moon—and eventually Mars—represent the next arenas of technological and geopolitical competition. The Artemis Accords, signed by more than thirty nations, are both a framework for cooperative exploration and a diplomatic instrument for consolidating American influence in the new space race. In abandoning the ISS, the United States is not retreating from space but repositioning herself to dominate the next stage of celestial expansion. NASA’s resources are being redirected towards developing the Lunar Gateway, a small space station orbiting the Moon that will serve as a logistical hub for future lunar missions. The symbolism is powerful: America is replacing an international space outpost jointly managed with Russia by a new, modular station run largely by Western allies and private firms.

The Russian Factor and the Breakdown of Trust

No analysis of the ISS’s decline can omit the geopolitical deterioration between Washington and Moscow. The war in Ukraine and the corresponding collapse of Western–Russian cooperation have rendered the existing arrangement politically untenable. Roscosmos, Russia’s space agency, has oscillated between threatening to withdraw from the ISS and pledging to remain until 2028, while simultaneously advancing plans for its own orbital platform, the “ROSS”. The United States, in turn, cannot risk long-term dependence upon Russian propulsion systems and docking modules at a time when sanctions and security distrust are at their highest since the 1980s. Thus the ISS—once a monument to post-Cold War reconciliation—has become a casualty of renewed geopolitical division. The separation of the Russian and Western segments of the station, whether technical or symbolic, marks the disintegration of the cooperative ethos that sustained it.

Private Enterprise and the Recasting of Space Diplomacy

Another political layer in the American withdrawal is the increasing role of private enterprise. Companies such as SpaceX, Axiom Space and Sierra Space are poised to take over many of the ISS’s research and tourism functions through privately owned orbital platforms. Washington’s withdrawal is therefore not merely a budget cut but a deliberate act of devolution: it is outsourcing symbolic sovereignty in orbit to corporations that align with US interests while nominally operating as independent entities. This model fits the broader pattern of American strategic behaviour—leveraging private innovation to maintain global dominance at reduced cost. Yet it also raises questions about accountability and international law. The Outer Space Treaty of 1967 prohibits national appropriation of celestial bodies, but it says little about commercial monopolisation of orbital infrastructure. By allowing private actors to assume quasi-state functions, the United States is rewriting the rules of space governance in practice, even as she claims continuity with multilateral ideals.

Europe, Japan, and the Search for Relevance

For the European Space Agency (ESA) and Japan’s JAXA, the US decision poses both a challenge and an opportunity. The ISS has been their main platform for crewed missions and scientific visibility. Without it, Europe risks marginalisation in human spaceflight, unless it secures deeper integration into the Artemis framework or develops its own infrastructure. France and Germany, the two principal ESA members, have shown divergent attitudes: Paris leans towards cooperation with NASA and private US companies, while Berlin remains cautious, preferring to maintain symbolic independence. Japan, for her part, has firmly aligned with the Artemis programme, seeing it as a means of reinforcing her strategic partnership with the United States. Hence Washington’s exit from the ISS is reshaping the hierarchy of global space politics, forcing its allies to adapt or become peripheral.

The End of the Orbital Commonwealth

The end of the ISS era represents the closure of a chapter in international diplomacy. What began as a collective experiment in peaceful cooperation is ending as a fragmented realignment of national and corporate ambitions. For the United States, abandonment of the station is not a retreat but a recalibration: an assertion that leadership in space must now be exercised through commercial dynamism and lunar exploration rather than the costly symbolism of shared orbiting platforms. Yet the political cost is substantial. The ISS embodied a vision of space as a shared human endeavour, transcending ideological boundaries. Its demise, precipitated by geopolitical estrangement and commercial priorities, suggests a more fractured and competitive celestial order ahead. Space, once the ultimate commons, is being recolonised—not by nations seeking unity, but by rival blocs and corporations vying for strategic and economic advantage.