Skip to main content

#8 International Space Agency v. Mark Whatney

Mars: The next frontier

Elon Musk has been all over space news in recent years with his now famous goal to take humans to our red sister planet. Despite what you may think, he’s not the only one; MarsOne (debatably), NASA, and Mars Base Camp, all have plans to put humans on Mars in the next few decades. Though there are some very convincing skeptics (Neil Degrasse Tyson); many people, myself included, are excited to see if Space X can pull it off and to see the subsequent flux in space law.
(See here for more on Musk).
There is just one problem.  Haven’t we already gone to Mars?  Didn’t Matt Damon already make it there?  Well, not exactly.  But he did play a convincing Martian.  Mark Watney — the lovable sarcastic astronaut, the man who stakes a personal claim to many firsts in space for humans, even being the first space pirate.  

(Go here for the complete list of top 10 space crimes.)

What it takes to be a space pirate (a.k.a Spirate)

Mark Watney spent 549 Sols (approximately 565 days) on Mars, the majority of which was spent trying to find a way home.  During his fight for survival he, by necessity, travels from his landing sight, to the landing site for the next Martian expedition in order to commandeer the lander.  While he is planning this, he makes a pretty bold declaration, a declaration most of us have wanted to make since we were four years old:
“There’s an international treaty saying that no country can lay claim to anything that’s not on Earth. By another treaty if you’re not in any country’s territory, maritime law applies. So Mars is international waters. . . . Here’s the cool part. I’m about to leave for the Schiaparelli Crater where I’m going to commandeer the Ares IV lander. Nobody explicitly gave me permission to do this, and they can’t until on board the Ares IV. So I’m going to be taking a craft over in international waters without permission, which by definition… makes me a pirate. Mark Watney: Space Pirate.”


Sure, as four-year-old children we weren’t running around pontificating on the finer points of maritime law, but we sure as hell knew what a space pirate was, and we all wanted to be one.  But was Watney a space pirate?  Did he get it right?
By legal definition, piracy is “robbery or forcible depredation on the high seas, without lawful authority, done animo furandi and in the spirit and intention of universal hostility.” 61 Am. Jur. 2d Piracy § 1. Now, within that definition there is a lot of legal jargon, but I want to focus in on one important phrase that, I think, makes all the difference; “intention of universal hostility.”
Intent is an important part of any criminal law.  Put simply, there has to be an unlawful act coupled with the right mental state, and intent speaks to that mental state.  Piratical “intent includes the wanton plunder or malicious destruction of property.”  61 Am. Jur. 2d Piracy § 1. So to know if Watney had the right intent to be a pirate, we have to see if he either acted wantonly, or maliciously.  
Wanton, in Black’s Law Dictionary, is defined as acting “regardless of another’s rights.” Using that definition, Watney, by regarding his personal lack of right to the Aires IV lander, was explicitly negating any wanton intent he may have previously had.  So we can knock that off our list and move on to malicious.
Black’s Law Dictionary explains that to have malicious intent you must intentionally commit an unlawful act “without just cause or excuse.”  Not only is duress or necessity a proper legal defense, but I think we could all agree that if we were in Mark Watney’s situation, we would all be willing to sacrifice our employer’s lander for any attempt to get back home.  So, under the malicious intent analysis Watney also fails.  He simply lacks any criminal intent necessary to be a pirate.  He may call himself a pirate, but he isn’t one at heart.  

(To read about a real spirate, check out State v. Han Solo.)

Legal analysis is all that matters

I know what you are thinking, “this is why people hate lawyers, can’t you just enjoy the book/movie!?”  To answer your astute question — no.  Since I first learned that the words space and pirate could be placed next to each other to make a tangible thought, I have wanted to be a space pirate.  Since I first looked into the stars I yearned to explore the vast unknown, while simultaneously pillaging and committing all sorts of cool and fun crimes.  In the end, though, I am a realist, and I know it won’t happen me, or to you, for that matter. So the simple fact is, if I don’t get to be a space pirate, Mark Watney doesn’t get to be either.

(For more from Space Law experts, check out the Space Law Blog.)

From Matt Collins

Disagree? Comment below.

Comments

  1. Also, Mr. Watney, Maritime Law?!? Where do you get off? The International Space Treaty Governs space law, including anything that happens on Mars, not Maritime Law. Stick to Botany.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Top 10 Space Crimes Ever

If you’re like me (and like most people), after you watch a movie you’re primary reaction is: sure the action was alright, but where’s the legal analysis? That’s why we’ve used our vague and complex rubric to compile this list of the top 10 space crimes ever committed. Besides, considering the dearth of “real” human activity in space, these “fake” film scenes provide a stellar platform for the much-desired application of space law. #1 Inhabitants of Alderaan, deceased v. Galactic Empire, Grand Moff Tarkin Grand Moff Tarkin told the Death Star to blow up the planet of Alderaan, and that’s exactly what it did. The first Death Star’s superlaser created a superluminal boost , pushing Alderaan’s mass into hyperspace and destroying it instantly along with its 2 billion inhabitants. That is what we call planetary genocide, and the Empire must pay. via GIPHY #2 Crew of Discovery I v.  Heuristically Programmed Algorithmic Computer 9000 In 2001: A Space Odyssey , Heuristically Prog

Space Crime #3 Hitchhiker’s Guide: 3 reasons the Vogons should get the book

For thousands of years, humanity has wondered how the world would end. The ancient Sumerians, for example, thought a planet called Nibiru was on a collision course with Earth. The speculations have only increased in recent years: A meteor (like the imaginary one that attracted a strong following during the 2016 U.S Presidential Election), nuclear war , global warming , or even artificial intelligence (which Elon Musk, head of SpaceX, recently called our “biggest existential threat ”). But what if they were wrong? What if instead, it will be giant slug-like intergalactic creatures called Vogons who destroy the earth to make room for a hyperspatial express route? In addition to being somewhat of a bummer (after all, then we would never live to see a world of fully autonomous cars , supersonic hyperloops , and ultra-high bandwidth brain-machine interfaces ), the scenario poses the all-important question: Is there a legal remedy? The civil legal issues raised by de