The Department of Space’s response to a wave of resignations at the Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO) is, unfortunately, the most bureaucratic one imaginable: a memorandum. Issued on July 14, it asks centre directors not to routinely accept resignation or voluntary-retirement requests from Group A scientific and technical personnel associated with Gaganyaan and other important missions. Instead, such requests must be referred to the department for a final decision. With more than 100 scientists reportedly leaving in recent months, including personnel connected with important projects, the concern is understandable. The remedy is not. A memorandum cannot manufacture motivation. A scientist compelled to remain on a human-spaceflight programme against her will is hardly an asset; Gaganyaan needs people fully committed to its success, not those serving out an indeterminate sentence. Restricting exits also sends precisely the wrong message to the young engineers ISRO must recruit.
The deeper mistake is to regard every departure as a national loss. The government opened the space sector to private participation in 2020 precisely because India’s ambitions had outgrown a system built around a single state agency. That policy is now beginning to work. Start-ups are developing launch vehicles, satellites, propulsion systems, ground infrastructure, and space-based services, and they naturally require experienced people. Where will they find them if not at the institution that has trained India’s space scientists for six decades? ISRO should not be judged not by how tightly it bolts its gates but by the wider ecosystem it creates. Scientists moving from ISRO to Indian companies are not necessarily abandoning the national space programme; they may simply be serving it from elsewhere. As opportunities multiply, talent mobility is both inevitable and desirable.
Other space agencies recognised this long ago. NASA does not treat every private company as a poacher. Through its commercial cargo and crew programmes, it contracts companies such as SpaceX to undertake functions once performed almost entirely within government. The result is an ecosystem in which talent, technology, and ideas circulate between the agency, universities, and industry, while NASA concentrates on frontier research and missions that private capital cannot undertake alone. ISRO already works extensively with private suppliers, but the relationship must move beyond the purchase of components and launch services. It should include joint missions, shared research facilities, fixed-term deputations to private companies, fellowships that allow scientists to return, and genuine lateral entry in both directions. IN-SPACe can design arrangements under which expertise moves across institutional boundaries without compromising sensitive projects.
ISRO must also look inward. If experienced project personnel are leaving in the middle of important missions, higher private-sector salaries are unlikely to be the only explanation. Slow promotions, delayed projects, limited recognition, rigid hierarchies, and shrinking professional autonomy may matter just as much. These are problems a memorandum conveniently avoids, because solving them requires reforming the institution itself. ISRO was built by scientists given unusual freedom, responsibility, and trust; it cannot now be administered like any other government department, where attrition is addressed by circular and ambition by office order. Its scientists should have faster career progression, performance-linked rewards, opportunities to lead independent projects, and the freedom to move between research, industry, and academia. Some departures will remain disruptive, particularly when specialised knowledge is scarce, but the answer lies in creating deeper teams and better succession systems. The way to retain exceptional people is not to make leaving harder.