10

Loading video...

Brad King

By Brad King

0

Share

Newsweek is a Trust Project member

See more of our trusted coverage when you search.Prefer Newsweek on Googleto see more of our trusted coverage when you search.


Golden Dome, President Donald Trump’s proposed U.S. missile defense shield, is built around the idea that thousands of satellites could detect, track and help defeat ballistic missiles before they land on United States soil. But what if the first missile launched in a conflict was never intended to hit the ground at all? What if its purpose was simply to detonate in orbit, and that detonation was nuclear? Could a single nuclear explosion in space gravely damage the satellite infrastructure Golden Dome depends on, and, in doing so, create a dangerous temptation for adversaries looking to exploit a perceived weakness in America’s missile defense architecture?

The U.S. has already carried out a test that revealed what high-altitude nuclear detonations can do to space assets—and the results were sobering. In July 1962, the U.S. detonated a 1.4-megaton nuclear device about 250 miles above the Pacific Ocean in a test known as Starfish Prime. The explosion was part of a broader series of Cold War nuclear experiments designed to understand the effects of high-altitude detonations, and the results surprised even many of the scientists involved. The blast generated a powerful electromagnetic pulse that disrupted electrical systems in Hawaii nearly 900 miles away. Streetlights failed; communications systems malfunctioned. But the more lasting effects were felt in space, rather than on the ground.

The explosion released enormous quantities of high-energy electrons into Earth’s magnetic field. Those charged particles became trapped along magnetic field lines and formed an artificial radiation belt around the planet. Satellites passing through those regions encountered radiation levels far beyond what their electronics had been designed to withstand, and in the months that followed, several failed. Telstar-1, one of the world’s earliest communications satellites, suffered severe radiation damage; Ariel-1, the United Kingdom’s first satellite, also failed prematurely. The performance of others was substantially reduced or their working lives cut short.

Read More on Opinion

This long exposure image shows trails and explosions from interceptions by Israel's Iron Dome missile defense system on February 28, 2026, over Tel Aviv, Israel.

...

Western armed forces depend on satellites for precision targeting, surveillance, command and control, and missile warning. That is why these concerns about Golden Dome matter. A nuclear detonation in low earth orbit could expose these vital satellites to intense radiation across large regions of space.

Orbital nuclear detonations do not function like a great switch, suddenly wiping every satellite out of the sky. That is not what Starfish Prime showed. The electromagnetic pulse generated by a high-altitude detonation could certainly produce immediate effects on some systems. But the larger and more pernicious threat comes from the radiation trapped in Earth’s magnetic field. Satellites repeatedly passing through contaminated orbital regions would accumulate damage gradually, and failures would emerge unevenly across constellations depending on altitude, shielding and spacecraft design.

Their electronics could degrade, their solar panels could lose efficiency and their sensors could become unreliable or useless. Some satellites might fail straight away, others might continue working for a time before accumulated radiation damage eventually disables them. Either way, their ability to defend the U.S. against a broader missile assault would be significantly compromised. A preemptive nuclear detonation in space would seem an attractive sucker punch.

After a surprise strike, the first question would certainly be “Who hit me?” Space-based launch detection and missile tracking are central elements of the Golden Dome architecture. Even if the U.S. failed to prevent the first blow, such an attack would be difficult to hide, and response timelines would matter enormously. There would be an immediate and substantial military response—and it would not be confined to space. The U.S. and its allies would likely mount a conventional attack on the launch facilities, command centers, air defenses and supporting military infrastructure of whoever detonated the nuclear device. The timeline for retaliation would be much shorter than the timeline for radiation-induced failures across Golden Dome’s space architecture, meaning an attacker could not assume it would escape punishment before the damage accumulated.

As a further disincentive, it is important to note that radiation belts do not distinguish between friendly and hostile spacecraft. Any nation willing to detonate a nuclear weapon in orbit would also be endangering its own satellites, while potentially rendering large portions of low earth orbit hazardous for years. The consequences would extend far beyond military systems alone, disrupting communications, navigation, financial infrastructure and the broader global economy. In that sense, the idea that a single nuclear explosion could suddenly blind the U.S. and clear the path for a larger attack oversimplifies both orbital physics and strategic reality.

The act of fielding and operating Golden Dome, a concept inspired by Israel's Iron Dome defense system, is by itself a significant deterrent against a ballistic missile attack on the U.S. The thousands of eyes and ears in orbit will ensure that a sucker punch will not go unpunished. But beyond deterrence, the Golden Dome assets must be built, tested and deployed as wartime systems, which is to say they must be resistant to radiation and be able to degrade gracefully rather than fail suddenly. Most importantly, the U.S. must be capable of reconstituting the Golden Dome fleet quickly if deterrence fails and we find ourselves in a shooting war where victory depends upon successfully intercepting missiles in space. This requires a robust satellite defense industry comprised of companies who know how to build and deploy satellites quickly and at high cadence, and a government that knows how to cut through red tape and buy them.

Brad King is CEO of U.S. space propulsion company Orbion Space Technology.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.

View 0 Comments

Request Reprint & Licensing

Submit Correction

View Editorial & AI Guidelines