Commentary. A private satellite network should not be able to determine, even indirectly, whether a country can defend itself. Yet that is the uncomfortable lesson emerging from reports that some military-grade Starlink services used by Ukraine have been restricted amid continuing Russian attacks.[1]
The immediate facts remain contested and incomplete. Public reporting says the restrictions disrupted Ukrainian operations, while other coverage describes the development as part of a wider split over how the war should be conducted and brought to an end.[1][4] That uncertainty is precisely why governments should stop treating commercial connectivity as a dependable substitute for sovereign infrastructure.
The convenience trap
Starlink became indispensable because it solved a problem traditional military systems had not solved quickly enough: providing resilient communications across a vast, heavily attacked front. A privately operated constellation can be deployed faster than a state procurement program, upgraded continuously and used by soldiers and civilians alike.
Supporters of this model have a serious argument. Governments often move slowly, defence contracts can be wasteful, and commercial innovation has repeatedly outpaced public-sector engineering. A company that builds and operates a global network may also be better positioned than any single government to maintain service during war, disasters or infrastructure failures.
But speed is not the same as accountability. A government can be challenged in parliament, courts and elections. A corporation answers primarily to its owners, customers and internal policies. When the service in question carries military communications, that distinction becomes a matter of national security rather than consumer choice.
Ukraine’s warning is bigger than Ukraine
Ukraine’s experience should not be reduced to a dispute between Kyiv and a technology executive, nor to a partisan argument about one company. The broader issue is whether democracies have allowed critical public functions to migrate into systems whose rules can change without public consent.
Connectivity is now part of the battlefield’s basic infrastructure. Interruptions can affect intelligence, logistics, emergency response and the ability of units to coordinate. That does not mean a provider must offer every capability without restriction. Companies have legitimate legal and ethical concerns about enabling offensive operations, and governments cannot outsource decisions about escalation or civilian risk.
Those concerns, however, strengthen the case for formal agreements—not for informal dependence. If a state relies on a commercial network during a war, the terms should be explicit: who can suspend service, under what law, with what notice, and with which emergency guarantees? Contracts should require continuity plans, independent oversight and alternative systems. They should also make clear that decisions affecting national defence cannot be left to a single executive’s judgment.
The counterargument: private power can restrain governments
There is a legitimate fear on the other side. Private providers may sometimes restrain governments that are willing to cross legal or moral boundaries. A company’s refusal to support a particular operation could prevent escalation or reduce civilian harm. Treating every commercial restriction as illegitimate would create a dangerous presumption that military users are entitled to unrestricted technological assistance.
That safeguard should not be discarded. It should be governed. Decisions with consequences for war and peace need transparent standards, documented legal reasoning and review by accountable public authorities. Otherwise, the public receives the costs of a strategic decision without the ability to understand or contest it.
Our view is straightforward: commercial technology should support national defence, but it should never quietly become national defence. Governments must fund redundant communications, build interoperable alternatives and negotiate binding rules before the next crisis, not after a service is interrupted.
Ukraine’s reported disruptions are therefore a warning to every democracy, including those far from the front. A society that treats private infrastructure as public infrastructure must impose public obligations on it. Innovation deserves protection. So does democratic control.