Japan has successfully launched the world's first wooden satellite into orbit using the SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket. This satellite was crafted using an ancient Russian technology that involves no nails whatsoever. The remnants of metal devices are damaging the ozone layer and distorting the ionosphere, the layer of charged particles that protects us from cosmic radiation. In contrast, wood harmlessly burns away once its operational life is over. Perhaps this old-fashioned material will indeed save space exploration: the number of debris in orbit is nearing a critical limit, and soon we may be unable to launch anything else.
Visually, the satellite resembles an antique radio with a wooden casing. This deliberate retro design was a conscious choice. The device is small, measuring just 10 cm on each side. The plan is to travel to the ISS on a cargo ship (which has already arrived), spend about a month acclimatizing, and then launch into space directly from the ISS. The satellite will remain in orbit for six months. The sole purpose of the launch is to observe how the body holds up. It was constructed so that the fibers dampen each other's vibrations.
The LingoSat satellite has been in development for several years at Kyoto University. The project is sponsored by the largest woodworking company in Japan, which makes sense. Initially, they considered using Japanese cherry wood, or sakura, for a patriotic touch. It would be akin to Russia launching a satellite made from birch. However, the final choice was magnolia.
The key question is how wood will behave in space. Extensive testing has shown that magnolia performs best. During trials, its wood did not break down under radiation exposure or crack due to temperature fluctuations.
- We were amazed at how well magnolia withstands the harshness of space, - said project leader Koji Murata just before the launch.
In space, there is no main enemy of wood – oxygen – so the body won’t rot, he added.
And not a single nail or screw was used, not even glue. The components are fitted together using tenons. This is an ancient Russian technique. Churches and wooden houses in the Russian North were assembled this way not because nails were unavailable, but because metal rusts in wood and destroys it. The creators of the satellite were concerned about this same effect. However, they claim that "nail-free" is an intrinsic Japanese technique known as honoki. Well, if it's honoki, then so be it.
Inside, there are various sensors that resemble standard electronics, with wiring and semiconductors. Well, there’s no other choice.
So why all this? According to the project's organizers, the wooden satellite is intended to, quite literally, save space exploration.
- In the future, metallic satellites may be banned altogether, - says Japanese astronaut Takao Doi.
But what is the problem?
When there were only a few satellites, there truly were no issues. Now there are. Sooner or later (the average lifespan is several years), a spacecraft will deorbit and burn up in the upper layers of the atmosphere, but not without leaving a trace. Microscopic dust remains, primarily aluminum. It cannot settle quickly, and it endlessly drifts at enormous heights.
Those devices that do not burn up and remain in orbit collide with something and break apart. Fragments are formed. Currently, there are about 11,000 satellites in orbit, of which only 5,000 are operational. And there are approximately 130 million fragments from previous launches, including 40,000 sizable pieces. All this has already made orbit resemble a busy metropolitan street during rush hour.
We have significantly polluted near space, of course. And here are the two main consequences:
- At some point, the amount of debris in orbit will exceed a certain critical threshold (this is known as the Kessler syndrome), triggering a domino effect, where devices will start to be destroyed one after another due to mutual collisions. This avalanche cannot be stopped. The Kessler syndrome is depicted in the film "Gravity." Experts say that we are not there yet, but we are getting close.
- Aluminum and other metal dust in the upper atmosphere is very detrimental. It has been proven to damage the ozone layer (which protects the Earth from ultraviolet rays). Among the speculated effects are distortion of the magnetic field and degradation of the ionosphere, the charged layer above us. The magnetic field shields us from radiation, while the ionosphere, according to some models, shapes the climate. Even if its role in "creating" climate turns out to be less significant, the ionosphere ensures planetary radio communication – so we would certainly notice its absence.
The wooden satellite will simply burn up in the atmosphere, leaving almost no trace. Even if one electronics-filled "log" collides with another, it poses no danger. Well, they will shed tiny bits that will also eventually burn up.
- If we prove that a wooden satellite is viable, we will offer the technology to Elon Musk, - says Takao Doi.
Musk is mentioned for a reason. He plans to explore Mars, and if successful, he will attempt to grow trees there, even if it’s under a dome for now. Martian wood would become the ideal building material for both the station itself and interplanetary ships, says project participant Kenji Kariya.
It seems that a circle is closing. Wood, the material that sparked the great scientific revolution in the 17th century, is back in use.
We are living in an era of scientific revolution, which began in the 17th century with a revolution in astronomy. Astronomer Tycho Brahe constructed grand measuring instruments. With their help, the orbit of Mars was studied, allowing Johannes Kepler to formulate the laws of planetary motion, and Isaac Newton to discover gravity.
These instruments were made of wood. To prevent warping, the devices were constructed from various types of wood, and during assembly, the direction of the fibers was altered in a special way. This was more expensive than metal, and it remains unclear why Tycho Brahe insisted on using wood.
Soon the era of the telescope began, and the tubes of very large telescopes were also made of wood. The first airplanes were built from wood. The first radios were assembled using wood. Wood has always been at the forefront of innovation.
However, metal later took the lead. Wood became synonymous with handmade or makeshift (as reflected in the saying "made from ... and sticks").
But history tends to repeat itself, and the history of technology does too, and the Japanese satellite is a remarkable testament to a return to roots. To the roots of magnolia in this case.
“No one will ban metallic satellites”
Alexander Zheleznyakov, member of the Russian Academy of Cosmonautics
- There will be no ban on metallic satellites, Elon Musk will not accept such proposals, and wooden devices will not solve the problems at hand. Why won’t they solve them? Because wood does not possess the properties needed for creating spacecraft. Wood is not a panacea, and the Japanese satellite is merely a novelty. Using wood in the harsh conditions of space is impractical.
It’s possible that after the first launch there will be others, perhaps even a larger wooden satellite, but I don’t think this technology has a future.
- It’s a bit disappointing that such a bright PR move was not made by us. Wood is “our” material, and the technology of constructing without any nails is ours too. Why didn’t our people take the plunge?
- I don’t consider the launch of a wooden satellite a significant step or a priority that we should strive for. Apparently, there were other matters at hand, and they didn’t pay attention.