The new Space Force instead exists inside the Department of the Air Force, in an arrangement similar to that of the Marine Corps and the Navy, which both operate under the Department of the Navy. There will be no secretary of space: As space-ops chief, Raymond now holds the organization’s highest position. The law also stipulates that the Space Force must be built from existing personnel in the Air Force, and does not have the authority to hire new people. The Space Force has simply absorbed the Air Force unit that focuses on space operations, the Air Force Space Command, which was established in 1982. Its members will remain Air Force officers, but those with space-related roles will become Space Force officers in the next year and a half.
The creation of the Space Force so far amounts to little more than bureaucratic reorganization, which probably wouldn’t prompt a chorus of enthusiastic cheers without such a flashy name. “All you’re doing is reshuffling the deck chairs,” says Richard Wolf, the director of the Air Force Historical Support Division, who provided historical information to Trump-administration officials about the last time the U.S. set up a new military branch—the Air Force—in 1947.
The prospect of a Space Force has been hazy since Trump first mentioned it, mostly because the proposal seemed to be a passing thought. “I was saying it the other day—’cause we’re doing a tremendous amount of work in space—I said, ‘Maybe we need a new force. We’ll call it the Space Force,’” Trump said back in 2018, to an audience of marines. “And I was not really serious. And then I said, ‘What a great idea. Maybe we’ll have to do that.’” The name called to mind images of space cadets pew-pew-pewing at enemies with plasma beams, and the suggestion became catnip for late-night-television hosts and the subject of an upcoming workplace sitcom from Steve Carell.
The reaction exasperated those in the national-security community who actually think some version of a Space Force is a good, and even long overdue, idea. “It does make sense that we’d be heading in that direction, considering how much more space is meaning to our military operations now,” the space analyst Laura Seward Forczyk told me. Security experts are divided on how the United States’ space capabilities compare with other spacefaring nations such as Russia and China, but they wouldn’t turn down increased emphasis on militarized space in some capacity.
The Space Force is not a Trump invention, as many have assumed. The concept has been floating around since the 1990s, since the Gulf War showed the growing utility of satellites in ground combat. In 2001, a report from a commission chaired by former Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld recommended that the U.S. create an armed service dedicated to space and keep it inside the Air Force. The suggestion was forgotten a few months later, in the aftermath of 9/11.
The concept showed up again in 2017 in bipartisan legislation in the House, which proposed the creation of a space corps, but the bill failed to gain approval in the Senate. Even Trump’s Pentagon officials, including former Defense Secretary Jim Mattis—who has since resigned—opposed the idea, saying that it would only introduce more bureaucracy in an already complex organization structure. (They quickly reversed their stance once the president expressed interest.)
Trump has presented the Space Force as something unprecedented, especially during rallies, and his administration saw an opportunity in the applause lines that always came. In the summer of 2018, the president’s campaign team sent an email to supporters chock-full of colorful logos for the future Space Force and invited them to vote for their favorite. One reimagined NASA’s logo, while another declared that “Mars Awaits.” (NASA, a civilian agency, doesn’t work on military space programs.) After clicking, supporters were delivered to a page seeking donations for Trump’s reelection.
The intent was clear, as my colleague David Graham wrote: “The Trump campaign appears to be selling the logo rights to the Space Force in exchange for campaign donations, turning the government into a tool for Trump’s own political enrichment.” It was a bold move considering the Space Force did not yet exist.
The immediate future of the Space Force involves a lot of paperwork and a dash of symbolism, rather than new uniforms and fight songs. Raymond will join the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the military officials who advise the president directly, and the service must come up with and submit an organization plan to Congress in February.
While the Space Force is now official, a slight disconnect in reality remains. “Join us as we watch history in the making. First launch of US Space Force!” the branch’s Twitter account announced earlier this month, with a link to a livestream of a SpaceX launch of its internet satellites. It was an accurate statement, in one way: The 45th Space Wing, the Air Force unit that oversees launches from Cape Canaveral, has been reassigned to the Space Force. But aside from the rebranding, there was nothing different about the mission.
Defense officials say
the Space Force will
become fully operational
by 2024. Until then, it
will no doubt remain one
of Trump’s favorite
namedrops on the
campaign trail, a move
that may jeopardize the
new force’s future.
Bipartisan
policies—which the Space
Force used to be, for
the most part—have the
best chances of
surviving White House
transition. (Most
Democrats opposed the
creation of any kind of
Space Force, but they
only got on board after
the White House
promised more
parental-leave benefits
for federal workers in
exchange.) “When the
president got involved
and made this a campaign
rallying cry, it became
political,” Forczyk
said. The next president
may see fit to roll back
the young Space Force,
logos and all.