Feminist Astropolitics with Ujwala Iyengar

As told to Kirthi Jayakumar

Outer Space Regulatory Specialist, Ujwala Iyengar discusses paths to feminist and decolonial engagements in outer space. Holding a Bachelor’s degree in Law from GNLU, India, and a Master’s degree in Law from the Institute of Air and Space Law at McGill University, Ujwala has worked with two leading space operators in Canada, the German Aerospace Center (DLR), and the Indian Space Research Organization (ISRO).

Ujwala is pictured in front of an artistic rendition of the Butterfly Nebula, a bipolar planetary nebula in the constellation Scorpius. The structure in the nebula is among the most complex ever observed in planetary nebulae. Its central star is one of the hottest stars known, with a surface temperature in excess of 250,000 degrees Celsius, implying that the star from which it formed must have been very large. The nebula featured in some of the first images released after the final servicing mission of the Hubble Space Telescope in September 2009. (Photo Credits: Profile picture - Ujwala Iyengar | Artwork - Kirthi Jayakumar)

What got you interested in the field of space law?

It was a combination of things. Growing up, my brother wanted to be an astronaut – space was his dream, really. Back in the 1990s and early 2000s, my brother had one of the best encyclopedia collections on outer space. There is a picture of my brother and me in the year I was born, where he is holding me with one hand and a brand new 1996 publication of the Star Wars comic in the other. Just like most other younger siblings, I wanted for myself what my brother wanted for himself. A lot of my core childhood memories are with my cousins in the planetarium my grandfather built. Space was effectively a common theme for all of us. My father worked alongside the Indian Space Research Organization (ISRO) in 2013-2014, where his company supplied cryogenic tanks that were designed to hold the cryogen for the missions. It was quite the family affair.

The dream of doing something in outer space truly became mine when I participated in a Space Law Mooting Competition in my second year at law school. Like any young law student, I made it my entire personality. Jokes aside, it was the first time in my life that I truly cared about something, I was naturally good at it and I loved every second of it. What I loved the most was that Space Law was not only niche, but also relatively new compared to other laws. There was a room to rewrite history and work towards a better future.

Everything about outer space law is centred on the idea of a common resource for human kind and equality of access. But reality suggests otherwise in terms of access. How far is this a function of the lack of diversity in the field in itself?

During my master’s program, I focused on the lack of accessibility to outer space and ways to improve it through different models of international cooperation among spacefaring nations. I loved writing my thesis, and it was a topic close to my heart. If you had asked me this question even two years ago, when I was fresh out of my master’s program, I would have given you a different response than the one I will give you now, after having spent almost two years in this industry. You are correct to point out that the reality is far from the academic gospel that we love to preach each other.

If you Google the teams and the CEOs of major space operators, you will see that they all look the same and have similar backgrounds. It is a very small and homogenous group. I am sure half of them went to the same school and grew up in the same neighbourhood with the same cultural background. In theory, space is inaccessible to all because of the lack of diversity (especially when it comes to the inclusion of women and people of colour). However, the truth is that space is inaccessible to everyone because it is a capitalistic endeavour in the way it is engaged with today – especially commercial space exploration in its current form.

You cannot fix this problem by hiring more women and people of colour on your team and including them in your research projects. First, it is difficult to find enough women or people of color for a position, which points to a deeper issue of the lack of accessibility in the educational programming for such careers. Second, mere inclusion does nothing in the long-term to enable accessibility, because we end up being pawns in the game for these big commercial operators who are more focused on the bigger picture of increasing their space assets. I don’t think they care if they have a team of women or me working for them. These billionaires and industry operators only care about one thing and it is profit, and maximizing their assets. It doesn’t matter who gets them there.

Fighting this battle is complicated because we are functioning within a structure that is first not designed for women and people of colour to succeed from the very grassroots level. This does not include additional challenges of immigration, security clearances, and other obstacles that one must face to even enter this industry. But, its tougher, because let’s say women and people of colour do make it through these rigours and biased processes: Even then, they are still a brick in the wall.

Our presence does not contribute to diversity in the way we may assume it would. Yes, we definitely need more women and people of colour. But it will do nothing if all of us are still working for Big Tech and their billionaires.

What we really need is a massive structural overhaul that questions the very moral fabric of why we are going to space. This is easier said than done because space is plagued with the same problems we have here on land. I can use big words and characterize these problems, but you have enough women in academia who have already done it better. What I will share, is that there is something to take away from my lived experience. If we cannot learn to save the Earth, our land, water, animals, and people, then there is no way we can save space from the same fate. We are doomed to make the same mistake. We can all talk about it and publish infinite research articles and theses, but until we learn to respect this world for what it has given us and learn to look at every life we see as worth saving, we will never have the grass root revolution we need to bring in true accessibility. Space cannot be accessible until the buses that take you to work become accessible.

If you could spell out a feminist model for spacefaring, what would that look like? Does space law in its current form allow room for this feminist model to take shape? What would applying a feminist view to the law look like, then?

This is the hardest question! I’m knee deep in my own struggles of being an immigrant queer woman of colour in Canada just trying to make it out alive, let alone want anything else. I’m trying to break into an industry that has shut itself off to me like a titanium vault and it is like trying to break into it with a safety pin at best. I couldn’t possibly look up for a second to imagine what a feminist model for space exploration would look like for me. That’s the reality of my life. I do not have the luxury of time to imagine a different system, let alone a better system, because my current dynamic has got me jumping hoops even in my dreams. I’m exhausted beyond my wildest imagination. The feminist zeal inside me is too busy fighting the every day that I have no words to offer when asked what a feminist model in my own job looks like for me.

So, I looked for academicians to tell me what a feminist model for space exploration could look like, and I will tell you this. With all due respect to these amazing and talented individuals, I was stunned to see that every single one of them addressing the topic is either an academic scholar or a researcher at a public policy institute. They are not a “diversity employee” working with a space start-up that is struggling to stay alive. What I’m trying to say here is, my reality and my life is very different than that of an academic scholar (mostly white women) in this field that is writing a chapter or book on Space Feminism. That’s what - one week of their life? Maybe a couple of months at best. This, however, is my reality every day. What I’m saying right now could feel like a detour, but I’m trying to say that women who are writing and proposing these feminist models do not and will not entirely understand my truth. These women get paid to write about feminism and lead feminist organizations.

Rafia Zakaria, in her essay on white feminism, wrote “there is a division between the women who write and speak about feminism and the women who live it, the women who have voices and the women who have experiences, and the women who make theories and policies and the ones who bear the scars and sutures from the fight.” I used to think that being a ‘real’ feminist meant fighting for these theories and policies in public arena. I felt horrible when the messy truth of my life overpowered my ability to voice my opinions publicly. But this is where I learnt the truth about feminism and even the idea of thinking about a feminist model for space exploration.

Breathing life into these feminist models, in whatever form, will really depend on everyday women like me, who will have to make the pendulum of thoughts shift from the metaphorical right to the left. I’m all for radical revolution and change. I’m Punk Rock in my heart and soul. But I also know that our aim shouldn’t be to move from one extreme to another extreme. The feminist model is an extreme approach to those who are currently in power. I’m not saying that we should rationalize with the bigots. All I’m saying is that we are fighting a very powerful faction of society. Our first step is to bring them somewhere in the center. This is still far away from a feminist model, but it won’t be on the extreme end anymore. We have to take baby steps. Changing terms from “mankind” to “humankind,” having diversity hires and other soft power moves can make a difference.

The true difference, however, can only be made with our kids in the classroom. If you want to have something radical, that’s where you start. Convincing adults with pre-determined opinions will never change a thing. I have realized that people rarely change their opinions about things. They soften around the edges and maybe give into it, but they never let their prejudices go entirely. We need to work with our kids, and that’s where the feminist model will start. Remember when I said it was my brother’s dream to become an astronaut and I co-opted it? That was because my brother was given encyclopedias by other people and I was given a Barbie. What my parents did to support me in an extremely difficult industry is what a feminist model to space exploration looks like for me. You start at home and you start with kids. You help them reimagine what the world looks like. I know this isn’t a great answer. It’s barely anything. But it’s my observation and its what I would like to do for the kids in my city. I want to go back and tell them what nobody told me. I want them to know I’m here rooting for them and give them the resources they need to succeed.

The colonization of space has become entrenched with militarization and capitalism. How can we decolonize our approach to engaging with and using space?

If you remove militarization, colonization, and capitalism from space exploration, there isn’t much left and that’s the saddest thing about it all. But I will say that change is underway. I have seen a few improvements. It’s happening at a glacial speed, but happening nonetheless, when it comes to everyday affairs.

The main problem is that as individuals and communities, we view outer space very differently than do States and military organizations. Even the scientific and commercial departments of the same space programs view missions differently. The intention of the heart and soul rarely ever meets that of the mind. This is because, historically, access to space depended on military and state technology. Today, even private players must play by the rules set by our state entities because they bear the international responsibility and liability of our actions. No activity in space is truly private because even private entities have to go through a rigorous approval process and abide by detailed state regulations. This is necessary, and in certain cases, mindless. This happens because space technology is characterized as a dual use technology – meaning it has civilian and military uses and despite the fact that a lot of commercial space technology does not have military use, it is still possible for it to be tweaked for military use.

There is an inherent distrust in space exploration. You aren’t just competing for resources, capital, and labour, but also with each others’ political interests. This is an avenue for you to show your political prowess. You will be surprised to know that billionaires and private companies are the ones fighting the militarization of outer space, because it imposes even more restrictions on space exploration and flow of resources across countries. However, for them, the opposite of militarization is commercialization and capitalism. Until the cost of making and launching satellites reaches an economic level, space will always be a capitalistic endeavour.

The most expensive asset for a space operator is not the satellite itself, but the human capital that makes it all happen. This is why it is a very complicated industry to work in – you see companies shutting down entirely, companies covered in debt, companies unable to stay competitive, and companies unable to attract the requisite talent pool due to mindless government restrictions. The bottom-line is that SPACEFARING IS EXPENSIVE. Most space startups don’t make profits for the first 10-15 years. They rely exclusively on government and private funding. This is why space will always drip in capitalism till the ecosystem reaches a point where it can be sustainable.

We are slowly working towards the decolonization and demilitarization of space, but this is the toughest arena to work in when it comes to these two things. When you remove something that is so entrenched in a system, it has to be replaced by something else and from the looks of it, it feels like commercialisation of space will follow, because that’s what happened on Earth too. To expect Space to be different without addressing problems on Earth is to expect to solve the same problem with the same mind that created it.

How we solve the problem really depends on how we approach space and why we are undertaking this exercise. Until the WHY changes, we will never be able to cooperate with each other. I probably sound naive, but the moment the State loses control of the space for its political purposes, the billionaires swoop in to get the biggest bite of the pie. For now, it feels like Catch-22. I cannot think of space free from the big “three”!

For generations, outer space has been a source of knowledge, wisdom, and succour for indigenous communities world over. Their way of accessing space has had little to do with technology. Do you believe a spacefaring future that would allow both sides to coexist is possible? What might it take for us to get there?

You know Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) has a group called Space Enabled, which aims to incorporate different ideas into space, including indigenous knowledge. I believe both streams can co-exist and that every engineer and scientist participating in a space project must receive the education and skill to look at space through traditional and indigenous knowledge.

When you are undertaking a space project, it is a very specific part of a very big universe. Your work is a microcosm and you cannot look beyond it. When you look at something from such a detailed perspective, you forget the big picture. That is where traditional and indigenous knowledge come into play. They help you see the big picture and answer the why of undertaking any activity.

I am fortunate to be in a space where I can see outer space being used for good. Our big picture is to be the trustee of this planet and take care of it. These values are traditional and indigenous values, where we see ourselves as guardians of the resources bestowed upon us. Every decision we make must align with our final goal. Are we doing this for profit or are we doing this because it is the right thing to do? This is a very difficult question to answer, because without money there is not much that can be done. But, indigenous and traditional knowledge act like a moral and social compass to contextualize all our activities. Without them we are a body with no soul.

It is necessary to combine indigenous and traditional knowledge with the latest technological advancements. We must be the guardians of our galaxy and understand that our actions must not come from a place of taming the wilderness that is outer space but from a place of respect and gratitude for all that it is. Until science incorporates justice, passion, soul, and commitment in it, the money supporting science will always turn it into evil.

This is just like what happened with Dr. Otto Octavius in Spiderman. Every comic book has warned us what mindless technology progress can do - including comics and books like Star Wars and Dune. If anything, Dune and Star Wars highlight the importance of mastering indigenous knowledge – such as using the force and learning to live with and taking care of what is given to you.

Anyone wishing to be part of the space industry must also learn traditional and indigenous knowledge around it and not look down on it. Being able to look at something from different perspectives make you understand it far better than looking at something from one point of view.

This interview series was supported by The Maypole Fund.