How Gatekeeping in Ham Radio Is Hurting the Hobby

8,734 words, 46 minutes read time.

A Pattern That Can No Longer Be Ignored

A little over a year ago, I published a blog post titled How Gatekeeping in Ham Radio Is Hurting Newcomers: Let’s Build a Supportive Community. That article was not an exception. It was simply one more example in a pattern that has followed nearly everything I have written about amateur radio. Regardless of the subject—operating practices, technology, culture, or the future of the hobby—the reaction from a segment of the amateur radio community has been consistently hostile. The criticism rarely engages with the substance of what is written. Instead, it arrives through social media messages, emails, and private DMs questioning credibility, motives, or whether I have any right to speak at all.

In recent months, the focus of that hostility has expanded. Alongside familiar accusations of not respecting tradition or not “doing things the right way,” criticism has increasingly targeted how the content itself is created. I have been transparent about using modern tools, including artificial intelligence, to assist with research, organization, drafting, and image creation. For some, the use of AI has become a disqualifier on its own, as though leveraging contemporary tools invalidates experience, technical knowledge, or good-faith participation. That reaction is revealing. Amateur radio was built on experimentation and adaptation, yet innovation is increasingly treated with suspicion in spaces that once celebrated it.

What makes this reaction harder to reconcile is the absence of any personal or financial incentive. All content on this site is published freely. There are no subscriptions, no paywalls, and no meaningful revenue. After more than two years of consistent writing, the blog generates nothing of consequence financially. There is no commercial angle, no monetization strategy, and no attempt to manufacture authority. The purpose has been straightforward: to document observations, share experience, and contribute to a conversation about the present and future of amateur radio.

That reality forces an uncomfortable question. If the work is free, transparent, and offered in good faith, why does it provoke such resistance? At some point, anyone who writes critically about an insular culture has to decide whether to step back or continue, knowing the reaction is unlikely to soften. The issue, then, is no longer about one article or one author. It is about a pattern of gatekeeping that increasingly defines how amateur radio presents itself to the outside world.

What Gatekeeping Looks Like in Amateur Radio

Gatekeeping in amateur radio rarely takes the form of explicit exclusion. It is not written into federal regulations, licensing requirements, or published band plans. No rulebook states that certain people do not belong or that certain questions are unwelcome. Instead, gatekeeping operates socially, enforced through tone, assumptions, and informal cultural signals that are widely understood by those already inside the hobby and immediately felt by those trying to enter it. This makes it difficult to confront directly because nothing overt has technically been violated—yet the message is unmistakable.

One of the most common examples appears when basic questions are asked. A newcomer may ask how to properly identify on a repeater, how to program a radio, or why a particular operating practice exists. Rather than receiving a clear explanation, the response is often layered with irritation, sarcasm, or condescension. Phrases like “you should already know that,” “read the manual,” or “that question gets asked all the time” communicate impatience rather than guidance. In some cases, the response is technically correct but delivered in a way that discourages further participation. The result is not education; it is embarrassment.

I have personally observed some of the meanest comments coming from gatekeepers directed at new hams on Facebook. Simple, genuine questions are sometimes met with ridicule rather than instruction. A query about basic repeater etiquette or antenna setup can spark a cascade of dismissive or insulting responses, leaving the person asking the question hesitant to engage further. This behavior sends an unmistakable message: asking questions publicly carries risk, and participation is conditional on tolerance for social friction rather than curiosity or effort.

Gatekeeping can also appear in day-to-day operational interactions, even when rules or listings suggest otherwise. For example, I was once asked not to use a repeater listed on Repeaterbook.com as publicly accessible. The operator insisted I should not transmit, despite the repeater not being marked private and being clearly intended for general use in the area, not only for visitors on vacation. While the principle of private repeaters is valid—owners may wish to restrict access to specific groups—this situation demonstrates how informal social enforcement can conflict with documented guidance. The expectation placed on me was not grounded in regulation or policy but in subjective judgment, effectively policing access through personal interpretation rather than technical or legal standards. Instances like this communicate a subtle but powerful message: access and participation are conditional on the approval of those asserting authority, even when formal rules are clear.

This phenomenon is also visible online in broader communities. I have seen amateur radio groups on Facebook or other forums grow rapidly when active and welcoming discussions attract new members—but then lose members over time as gatekeeping behavior takes hold. Experienced participants or self-appointed “experts” sometimes dominate conversations, criticize newcomers harshly, or insist that only certain practices or knowledge are valid. Over time, the community loses the very curiosity and energy that helped it grow in the first place. Those leaving are often skilled, motivated, and capable, but they are unwilling to endure persistent social friction.

Another common manifestation of gatekeeping is public arguments over trivial or technical details, which can occur in any forum imaginable—online, in-person, or even over the air. I have seen operators engage in prolonged disputes on Facebook groups, online forums, and club discussion boards over minor issues, such as exact phrasing in a net check-in, choice of equipment, or whether a specific repeater etiquette rule applies. These arguments often escalate, drawing in multiple participants and leaving newcomers observing a hostile environment. Even on the air, gatekeeping behavior can appear as sharp corrections or repeated commentary on trivial operating practices, turning routine communications into social policing.

It is important to clarify that while gatekeeping is socially discouraging, it is not the same as violating FCC rules. The FCC enforces regulations when an operator’s behavior interferes with others’ ability to use the airwaves, such as deliberately transmitting over other signals, playing prohibited audio content, or willfully blocking legitimate communications. For example, the FCC has fined operators for repeatedly transmitting music or animal noises that interrupted other communications, with penalties reaching tens of thousands of dollars. These cases are regulatory enforcement actions, distinct from the cultural gatekeeping described here, which primarily discourages participation rather than creating legal violations.

The dynamic is compounded when longevity is equated with authority. Experience matters in amateur radio; decades on the air bring insight and perspective. The problem arises when time served becomes a substitute for explanation. Statements such as “that’s how we’ve always done it,” “trust me, I’ve been licensed for decades,” or “you’ll understand once you’ve put in the time” shut down discussion rather than advance it. Knowledge becomes something to guard rather than something to share. In this environment, asking “why” is interpreted as a challenge rather than an opportunity to learn.

Gatekeeping is also evident in the treatment of operating modes and technology. Interest in newer digital modes, weak-signal experimentation, or software-defined radio is sometimes dismissed as a lack of seriousness. Operators may be told they are “letting the computer do all the work” or that they are avoiding the “real” skills of amateur radio. This framing ignores the reality that many modern modes require significant technical understanding of signal processing, propagation, timing, and software configuration. The objection is not technical but cultural: what is being defended is familiarity, not competence.

Similarly, familiarity with software, networking, automation, or data systems can be undervalued because these skills were not historically central to the hobby’s identity. Skills directly relevant to modern communications are sometimes minimized, while legacy knowledge is elevated regardless of current applicability. Even experienced operators who suggest procedural updates, question commonly repeated assumptions, or challenge norms can find themselves marginalized. In these cases, resistance is not about accuracy or safety but about violating unspoken rules: tradition should not be questioned publicly, and deviation from the familiar is interpreted as a threat rather than a legitimate perspective.

Club environments can amplify gatekeeping. Meetings may privilege inside jokes, historical hierarchies, or informal power structures that newcomers find difficult to navigate. Decisions might be made without explanation because “that’s how it’s always been done.” Those who ask for clarity risk being labeled disruptive. Over time, participation narrows to those willing to accept these dynamics without question.

Online forums intensify the effect. Threads intended for education often devolve into contests of status—who knows more history, who has the longest tenure, or who remembers obscure technical details. Correcting someone publicly, rather than privately, can be treated as a demonstration of authority. For newcomers or returning operators, these interactions create a daunting and unwelcoming first impression.

Gatekeeping is frequently defended as a way to protect standards, and it is important to acknowledge that standards genuinely matter in amateur radio. Shared spectrum requires discipline. Poor operating practices can interfere with others. Technical competence affects safety, legality, and public perception. The concern itself is valid. The problem lies in the method of enforcement. When standards are taught through patient explanation, demonstration, and guidance, they produce capable operators. When they are enforced through ridicule, public shaming, or dismissive language, they discourage participation without improving competence.

The practical cost of this behavior is significant. Gatekeeping filters out participants who are unwilling to tolerate unnecessary friction. It selects not for skill or commitment but for tolerance of hostility. Over time, this leads to a smaller, more insular community, which becomes increasingly defensive precisely because it has lost momentum. Standards are not strengthened by this process; they are maintained by fewer participants and defended more aggressively because the culture feels fragile.

Perhaps the most damaging aspect of gatekeeping is that it often goes unrecognized by those enforcing it. Because the exclusion is informal and socially normalized, it feels justified. The absence of explicit rules allows individuals to deny responsibility while the cumulative effect is clear: newcomers leave quietly, questions stop being asked, and participation declines. Gatekeeping becomes self-reinforcing. The community shrinks, dissenting voices disappear, and remaining members interpret the silence as confirmation that their approach is correct. Meanwhile, the hobby loses the curiosity, adaptability, and experimentation that once defined it.

Gatekeeping does not preserve amateur radio’s legacy. It erodes it slowly, politely, and often unintentionally. Recognizing that distinction is not an attack on experience or tradition. It is an acknowledgment that culture—not regulation—now poses one of the greatest risks to the hobby’s future.

How This Culture Took Hold

Amateur radio developed during a period when access to electronics and communication technology was extremely limited. In the early 20th century, radios were complicated, expensive, and largely inaccessible to the general public. Operators often had to build their own equipment from kits or even from raw components, carefully winding coils, assembling transmitters, and learning the intricacies of vacuum tubes. Every new skill—from soldering circuits to tuning antennas—required patience, ingenuity, and a willingness to experiment. Learning was hands-on and failure was common. Mentorship was essential: more experienced operators guided newcomers through the nuances of both the technical and social dimensions of the hobby, passing down not just knowledge, but also an understanding of the values and etiquette that governed the airwaves.

That environment fostered pride and identity. Completing a complex project or mastering a new operating technique was a visible achievement, and operators often took deep satisfaction in helping others learn. At the same time, the scarcity of knowledge and the difficulty of gaining it created a sense of ownership over the hobby’s identity. Those who had “been there” felt that the skills they had earned entitled them to define what it meant to be a legitimate amateur radio operator. This sense of ownership was not inherently malicious; it reflected a culture where expertise was rare, effort was costly, and mistakes could have real consequences for equipment, safety, or compliance with regulations.

As technology advanced, the context changed dramatically. The rise of personal computing, inexpensive digital electronics, and widely available communication tools expanded access to technical experimentation. Today, a beginner can purchase a ready-to-use digital transceiver, explore weak-signal or software-defined modes, and even experiment with satellite communications without ever having built a transmitter from scratch. Amateur radio no longer occupies a singular role as the primary gateway into electronics, networking, or wireless communication. Participation in the hobby began to decline in some areas, particularly in local clubs where membership aged without sufficient replacement. The visible result was fewer active operators and less generational turnover in knowledge.

In response, parts of the community became increasingly protective. Change, particularly when it involved digital modes, software-assisted operation, or other new approaches, was sometimes framed as a threat to identity rather than an opportunity for growth. Gatekeeping emerged in this context as a defensive response. By narrowing the definition of what constitutes “legitimate” operation—favoring traditional analog modes, hands-on equipment building, or adherence to historical etiquette—some operators attempted to preserve the cultural and technical identity that they felt was at risk.

The irony is stark: amateur radio’s early history was defined by rapid change, creative problem-solving, and experimentation that constantly pushed boundaries. Early pioneers were, in many ways, the ultimate disruptors. They tested the limits of what could be built, transmitted, and received. They challenged regulatory frameworks, adapted to evolving technology, and defined norms as they went. Resistance to new ideas, digital experimentation, or alternate learning pathways is a relatively recent development, emerging only after the hobby became more stable, less exclusive, and more accessible to the broader public.

This historical perspective helps explain why gatekeeping persists. It is not rooted in the hobby’s origins or in the practical requirements of operating legally and safely. Rather, it reflects a cultural anxiety: a desire to preserve identity in the face of generational change, technological evolution, and the democratization of knowledge. Understanding this context is essential. Gatekeeping is less about expertise and more about fear—fear that the hard-earned knowledge, skills, and traditions of one generation will be diluted or disregarded.

Yet the opportunity exists to realign culture with history. If the amateur radio community embraces curiosity, mentorship, and inclusive guidance—values that built the hobby in the first place—gatekeeping can be replaced with constructive participation. Early operators never intended their hard-won knowledge to become a barrier; it was meant to inspire, to educate, and to ensure that the airwaves were used responsibly. Reconnecting with that original spirit can help the hobby thrive in the modern era, where new tools and new perspectives are expanding what is possible.

The Effect on New and Returning Participants

People drawn to amateur radio today often arrive with practical motivations and diverse backgrounds. Some are interested in emergency communication, community resilience, or public service. Others are drawn by antennas, electronics, propagation, or the challenge of mastering digital modes. Many newcomers bring experience from adjacent technical fields—software, networking, robotics, or engineering—and see amateur radio as a hands-on, experimental extension of their skills. Returning operators, meanwhile, may be revisiting a hobby they explored decades ago, curious to see how technology and modes have evolved.

When these individuals encounter gatekeeping, the message they receive is not simply that the hobby is technically challenging, but that it is socially unwelcoming. Difficulty paired with support encourages persistence, growth, and deeper engagement. Difficulty paired with ridicule, sarcasm, or dismissive attitudes, however, drives disengagement. A newcomer may hesitate to ask questions, a returning operator may stop participating, and even capable individuals can quietly drift away from the hobby.

Real-world examples illustrate this clearly. On social media, I have witnessed new hams post simple questions about repeater etiquette, antenna placement, or basic operating procedures, only to be met with hostility or sarcastic responses from self-appointed “experts.” These interactions can escalate, drawing attention from others in the group, amplifying discomfort, and creating a climate where participation feels risky. Similarly, I have seen online amateur radio communities grow rapidly when curiosity and collaboration are encouraged, only to lose members over time as gatekeeping behaviors emerge—harsh corrections, trivial disputes, and repeated dismissals gradually push out those who are most eager to learn.

Even over the air, the effect is tangible. Minor violations of perceived etiquette, or the use of newer digital modes, can trigger repeated public corrections, unsolicited commentary, or criticism framed as instruction. I recall being scolded harshly for using a Roger beep early in my time as a ham. At the time, my intention was simply to signal the end of my transmission clearly and politely, yet my choice of practice provoked unexpected rebuke. Experiences like this communicate to newcomers that even small, well-meaning actions may be scrutinized, turning routine interactions into sources of anxiety rather than learning opportunities.

Another example involves impromptu nets, particularly with operators who key up rapidly and consistently. In these scenarios, anyone wishing to join the conversation may be physically unable to get their transmission through. In digital modes such as DRM, the effect can be even more restrictive: participants who want to disconnect or adjust settings are prevented from doing so because others dominate the channel. These behaviors are rarely intentional in the sense of personal malice, but the outcome is the same—new or returning participants are effectively blocked from active engagement, creating frustration and discouragement.

A core principle of amateur radio is that experience is gained through action. I am a full believer that you learn as you “do.” Reading manuals, watching videos, or observing others is valuable, but true understanding comes from operating your equipment, experimenting with setups, and engaging directly on the air. This principle is not academic—it has life-and-death implications in emergency situations. Operators drawn to amateur radio often join with the intent to serve their communities in times of crisis. They may want to assist in disaster communication, coordinate with emergency services, or provide backup communication when conventional networks fail. In these contexts, hesitation or inexperience can have serious consequences. If someone has only observed, studied, or theorized, they may struggle to set up antennas, program radios, or operate digital modes under pressure. Gatekeeping that discourages hands-on experimentation, delays participation, or makes newcomers afraid to transmit actively undermines this essential learning process. Emergencies are not the time to “learn.” Every operator must enter such situations with confidence and competence, which comes only from repeated, hands-on practice.

The discouragement is often subtle, yet persistent. New operators quickly learn which repeaters or nets feel welcoming and which are “policed” by gatekeepers. Some avoid certain bands or frequencies entirely, opting to participate only where they feel safe. This selective participation limits their exposure to different modes, technical challenges, and networking opportunities. Returning operators may experience similar limitations, discovering that questions they feel are essential for reintegration are met with judgment rather than assistance. The social cost becomes a barrier almost as real as technical or legal limitations.

The consequences ripple beyond individual participation. Clubs and nets lose momentum when active, curious members disengage quietly. Volunteer-led activities, mentorship programs, and community events suffer from reduced involvement. A net or forum that could serve as a hub for learning and experimentation instead becomes a gatekeeping showcase, deterring newcomers and silencing those who might otherwise contribute fresh ideas or technical innovations. Over time, the culture shifts subtly but decisively: enthusiasm is tolerated only if it conforms to established norms, and innovation is framed as unnecessary or threatening.

Modern technical hobbies abound, offering steep learning curves without social friction. Robotics, coding, maker communities, and digital communications platforms attract curious, capable individuals who are free to experiment and fail without fear of social ostracism. When amateur radio appears rigid, judgmental, or hostile, it quietly loses potential long-term participants who choose to invest their energy elsewhere. These are not people deterred by technical complexity—they are people deterred by culture. Gatekeeping, even when unintentional, functions as a silent attrition mechanism, limiting the hobby’s ability to attract and retain talent, curiosity, and innovation.

Licensing numbers alone do not reflect the true health of amateur radio. While thousands of new licenses are issued annually, many of these operators never become active participants. Obtaining a license is only the first step; remaining engaged, contributing to nets, clubs, and technical experimentation, and sharing knowledge with others is what sustains the hobby. Retention matters far more than initial recruitment. Cultural barriers—including gatekeeping, social friction, and dismissive attitudes—play a major role in determining who stays and who quietly disappears.

Early interactions are particularly influential. The first few experiences a newcomer has—whether on a repeater, in a local club meeting, or on an online forum—can determine whether they continue or disengage. When newcomers feel dismissed, ridiculed, or publicly corrected without explanation, motivation quickly erodes. In many cases, the potential for embarrassment outweighs curiosity or enthusiasm, and operators simply stop transmitting, attending meetings, or engaging online. Recruitment efforts alone fail when the culture discourages participation after entry. Gatekeeping accelerates decline by filtering out exactly the people needed to sustain the hobby.

The long-term effect on the hobby is cumulative. Declining participation among new and returning operators reduces diversity of thought and experience. Technical experimentation slows, and innovation is stifled. Mentorship networks shrink, leaving fewer experienced operators available to guide the next generation. In extreme cases, persistent gatekeeping can create generational gaps, where new hams never feel fully integrated and returning hams find the environment alien or intimidating. This dynamic threatens not only the vitality of local clubs and online communities but the broader sustainability of the hobby itself.

Ultimately, gatekeeping affects the hobby’s most valuable assets: people and culture. Every discouraged newcomer or disengaged returning operator represents potential talent, perspective, and enthusiasm lost. When the barriers are social rather than technical, the effect is insidious, invisible, and difficult to reverse. For amateur radio to remain relevant, inclusive, and vibrant, it must confront this culture, encourage welcoming participation, and restore mentorship as the standard for integrating new and returning participants.

Retention, Not Recruitment, Is the Real Problem

Licensing numbers alone do not reflect the true health of amateur radio. While thousands of new licenses are issued annually, many of these operators never become active participants. Obtaining a license is only the first step; remaining engaged—contributing to nets, clubs, technical experimentation, and mentoring—is what sustains the hobby. Retention matters far more than initial recruitment, and cultural factors play a major role in determining who stays and who quietly disappears.

Early interactions are particularly influential. The first few experiences a newcomer has—whether on a repeater, in a local club meeting, or on an online forum—can determine whether they continue or disengage. When newcomers feel dismissed, ridiculed, or publicly corrected without explanation, motivation quickly erodes. A sharp rebuke for asking a basic question, criticism for using a Roger beep, or frustration at being unable to join an impromptu net due to rapid keying can seem minor in isolation, but these experiences accumulate to create a pattern: participation is risky, and mistakes are punished rather than used as learning opportunities.

A core principle of amateur radio is that operators learn by doing. Reading manuals or watching videos is valuable, but true competence comes from hands-on practice: setting up antennas, programming radios, experimenting with modes, and making contacts on the air. This principle is not merely academic—it has practical consequences in emergencies. Operators who have not practiced in real-world conditions may struggle to set up communications under pressure or operate efficiently when networks fail. In emergencies, there is no time to “learn” on the job. Gatekeeping that discourages hands-on experimentation or instills fear of mistakes undermines this essential learning process, leaving the hobby’s operators less prepared and less confident.

Another barrier to retention is the perceived club-centric mentality in parts of the amateur radio community. Historically, clubs have provided access to repeaters, mentorship, licensing classes, and organized nets, making them central to the hobby’s social and technical infrastructure. For many veteran operators, club affiliation is equated with legitimacy or commitment, creating the impression that to be a “real” ham, one must participate in a club.

While club membership can be beneficial, this perception can discourage or alienate independent operators or newcomers who prefer to learn on their own or participate mostly online. Operators who choose to operate solo may feel excluded or judged, while others may be subtly pressured to join a club as a prerequisite for acceptance. In effect, the club-centric culture can function as an additional social filter, amplifying the impact of gatekeeping on retention.

The consequences of poor retention are visible across multiple dimensions. Clubs struggle to maintain membership and organize events when volunteers disengage after just a few months or years. Repeaters see declining use and reduced oversight as active operators dwindle. Mentorship programs falter, nets lose participants, and online communities shrink as enthusiasm is filtered out by gatekeeping behaviors. Recruitment efforts alone cannot compensate for these losses. Even when new licenses are issued in large numbers, culture—including expectations around clubs—determines whether those operators remain engaged, active, and confident.

Gatekeeping accelerates decline by filtering out the very people needed to sustain the hobby. Those most likely to ask questions, experiment, or innovate—traits essential for growth and modernization—are often the first to disengage when met with impatience, sarcasm, or social exclusion. Unlike regulatory violations, which are measurable and enforceable, cultural attrition is subtle and cumulative. By the time its effects are evident in membership rolls, net participation, or volunteer availability, significant damage has already occurred.

Retention also depends on mentorship and inclusive guidance. Communities that invest in onboarding, encourage questions, allow mistakes in low-stakes environments, and promote hands-on learning see significantly higher long-term participation. Conversely, communities that rely on rigid norms, public shaming, or social policing often lose highly capable operators. Over time, these losses reinforce the perception of the hobby as insular and defensive, further discouraging new and returning operators from investing their time and energy.

In short, amateur radio’s long-term health cannot be measured by license issuance alone. Recruitment without retention is meaningless. Every disengaged participant represents a loss of talent, enthusiasm, and capability. For the hobby to remain vibrant, relevant, and resilient, it must prioritize retention through a culture of mentorship, hands-on practice, and supportive learning—rather than allowing gatekeeping and club-centric attitudes to silently dictate who belongs.

Technology, AI, and Resistance to Change

The criticism surrounding artificial intelligence in amateur radio is part of a broader discomfort with modernization. For some, AI has become a symbol rather than a subject. It is often framed as a shortcut, a compromise of authenticity, or a threat to the “real” way of doing things. This resistance is not new. Similar debates arose with the adoption of digital modes, computer logging, software-defined radios, and even early satellite communications. In many cases, the pattern is the same: new technology is questioned not on the basis of its utility, but on its perceived departure from tradition.

Amateur radio has always relied on tools. From spark gaps to vacuum tubes, from transistorized transceivers to microprocessors, progress has come through adoption, experimentation, and integration—not avoidance. Using AI to assist with writing blog content, creating instructional images, or planning antennas does not replace human expertise any more than simulation software replaces the need to understand propagation or circuitry. Tools amplify human effort and creativity; they do not negate understanding. They allow operators to focus on learning, experimenting, and solving complex problems, rather than spending disproportionate time on repetitive or administrative tasks.

That said, the concerns about AI are not entirely unfounded. Relying too heavily on AI without cultivating underlying knowledge or hands-on experience can create dependency. In situations where AI is unavailable, produces errors, or misinterprets context, operators who have not developed fundamental skills may struggle. Just as in emergency communications, the operator’s own judgment, knowledge, and problem-solving ability are critical. AI should be treated as a tool, not a substitute for expertise—a way to augment learning and efficiency while preserving core competence.

Treating modern tools as illegitimate is another form of gatekeeping. It defines authenticity by nostalgia rather than capability, establishing arbitrary boundaries around what constitutes a “real” operator. This mentality can discourage participation from individuals who are already comfortable with contemporary technology, creating a subtle, yet pervasive, barrier to engagement.

The resistance is often selective. Many hams embrace new tools only when they align with long-standing practices or personal comfort zones. For example, digital modes such as FT8, D-STAR, and DRM are still criticized by some operators, while traditional CW (Morse code) is universally respected—even when, objectively, both require skill and technical understanding. One of the most amusing—and telling—arguments I’ve encountered is a ham complaining that someone using FT8 could contact all the countries in a region within a few hours and gain recognition for it, while it had taken them years to achieve similar recognition using DX FM phone. Whether or not this scenario is technically accurate, the perception alone reveals a key tension: modern digital modes, with their efficiency and automation, are sometimes seen as “shortcutting” the traditional path, even when the outcome—making successful contacts, learning propagation, or logging countries—is objectively the same.

This kind of criticism highlights a broader gatekeeping pattern: mastery is measured not only by achievement, but by how one achieves it. Digital modes, computer-assisted logging, or AI-assisted content creation can provoke suspicion because they do not follow historical methods, even though they are tools that expand participation and learning. Ironically, amateur radio has always evolved through the adoption of new technologies—from spark-gap transmitters to transistors, from analog repeaters to software-defined radios. Yet, when efficiency threatens tradition, some operators perceive it as a challenge to legitimacy rather than an opportunity to broaden engagement.

Ultimately, the pattern is clear: fear of change, suspicion of tools, and attachment to nostalgia create invisible barriers that prevent newcomers from fully engaging. AI, digital modes, computer logging, or other modern tools are not threats—they are extensions of the hobby’s original spirit: learning, experimenting, and communicating. Responsible adoption of AI and modern tools—combined with hands-on practice and fundamental knowledge—can strengthen the hobby, improve retention, and encourage innovation, rather than weaken it.

Emergency Communications and Cultural Risk

One of amateur radio’s strongest claims to relevance is its role in emergency communication. From natural disasters to local power outages, amateur radio operators have historically provided critical communication when conventional infrastructure fails. This capability depends on trained, confident, and motivated operators who are willing and able to serve under pressure. Gatekeeping undermines this mission by narrowing the pool of participants, discouraging newcomers, and creating an environment where potential operators hesitate to engage until it is too late.

The stakes are high. Emergencies do not allow for delayed learning, experimentation under observation, or “waiting your turn” in social hierarchies. Operators must know their equipment, modes, and procedures in advance. I have seen firsthand how cultural friction—whether harsh correction for small mistakes, exclusion from impromptu nets, or dismissive attitudes toward newer modes—can inhibit this hands-on experience. When operators fear public shaming or ridicule, they transmit less often, experiment less, and avoid situations where they might make errors, all of which diminishes practical readiness.

One of the simplest truths about emergency communication is that having enough people is often as critical as having skilled operators. During my years working with CERT (Community Emergency Response Teams), I saw firsthand how even well-trained volunteers struggled to meet operational needs simply because there were not enough participants. Tasks that seem straightforward—staffing check-in points, relaying messages, monitoring nets—require multiple people working together. Inadequate numbers mean overworked operators, delayed communications, and gaps in coverage that can compromise the effectiveness of the response. Amateur radio faces the same challenge. Even highly skilled operators cannot fill gaps if the overall number of participants is low. Gatekeeping compounds this problem by discouraging new or returning operators from engaging fully. Over time, this reduces the pool of available operators, creating a situation where emergencies may be staffed by too few people to operate safely or effectively.

Modern emergency communication increasingly intersects with digital systems, data transmission, and network integration. Effective coordination often relies on automated reporting, packet radio, mesh networks, and digital modes such as D-STAR, FT8, or DRM. Excluding operators who bring expertise in computers, networking, or digital communications—simply because they do not conform to traditional analog practices—weakens overall preparedness. Skills often derided by traditionalists can be exactly what enable rapid, reliable communication in a crisis. Cultural hostility toward these tools or the operators who use them does not improve readiness; it undermines it.

The implications extend beyond individual capability. Public agencies, emergency management organizations, and community preparedness planners evaluate amateur radio based on participation, professionalism, and adaptability. A shrinking, inward-facing community struggles to maintain credibility in these contexts. When clubs and nets are insular, or when digital expertise is discouraged, emergency managers may question whether amateur radio can reliably support critical communications during disasters. This perception affects funding, partnerships, and the broader role of the hobby in public service.

Ultimately, the link between culture and capability is direct. Gatekeeping and resistance to modernization do not simply hurt newcomers—they have real-world consequences for community resilience. Amateur radio’s claim to relevance depends on the ability to integrate all available skills, modes, and operators. A community that fosters inclusion, mentorship, and hands-on learning ensures a broader, more competent, and more adaptable operator base—exactly the qualities required when infrastructure fails, when every transmission counts, and when there simply aren’t enough people to do the job without everyone contributing.

Standards Are Preserved Through Education

Concerns about lowering standards often surface whenever gatekeeping is criticized. Critics argue that without strict social enforcement, operators will ignore procedures, misuse frequencies, or fail to uphold technical rigor. While the intention is understandable, these concerns frequently misunderstand the root of the problem. Clear standards—spectrum discipline, procedural knowledge, technical competence—are most effectively preserved through education and mentorship, not exclusion or intimidation. Standards enforced through gatekeeping, ridicule, or social pressure may appear to maintain authority in the short term, but in reality, they produce resentment, drive away capable participants, and weaken the community over time.

Respect for procedure and technical knowledge does not require hostility. Operators can be taught to follow rules, log contacts correctly, or handle nets efficiently through structured guidance, clear examples, and patient explanation. For instance, rather than scolding a newcomer for incorrectly joining a net, an experienced operator can demonstrate proper procedure, explain why it matters, and encourage repetition until the skill is mastered. A culture built on supportive instruction preserves the same standards that gatekeepers claim to defend—but it does so without alienating new or returning operators.

Authority earned through teaching is more durable than authority enforced through intimidation. A mentor who patiently guides a newcomer fosters trust and confidence. The operator internalizes knowledge and develops the competence to act independently, often exceeding the mentor’s expectations. By contrast, authority based on intimidation or sarcasm creates compliance only while observation is present, and it discourages initiative, experimentation, and critical thinking. In emergencies, when operators must act independently and adapt to unpredictable situations, the latter approach leaves them unprepared.

Gatekeeping also distorts perceptions of expertise. Longevity or technical skill may be conflated with moral or social authority, giving certain operators outsized influence over community norms. When standards are framed as tools for social control rather than shared knowledge, competence is overshadowed by conformity. In such environments, newcomers may hesitate to ask questions, veterans may avoid experimenting with new modes, and innovation slows—despite the ostensible goal of preserving quality.

Education-based standards also naturally accommodate modernization. Whether teaching digital modes, AI-assisted logging, or software-defined radio operation, clear instruction allows operators to master new tools without sacrificing technical rigor. Gatekeeping, in contrast, often resists change, equating unfamiliar technology with lowered standards rather than an opportunity to expand competence. This resistance can make communities insular and unwelcoming, undermining both retention and the long-term viability of the hobby.

In short, preserving standards is not about policing or shaming; it is about empowering operators with knowledge and confidence. A culture rooted in mentorship, explanation, and hands-on learning produces skilled, adaptable, and motivated participants. Those are the qualities that sustain amateur radio, maintain professionalism, and ensure readiness—whether in everyday operation, technical experimentation, or emergency communication.

Signs of Change Within the Community

Despite persistent challenges, there are encouraging signs that parts of the amateur radio community are evolving. Some clubs have recognized that onboarding and mentorship are critical for retention and long-term engagement. They invest in structured licensing classes, hands-on workshops, and open nets specifically designed to welcome newcomers. In these environments, questions are answered patiently, mistakes are treated as learning opportunities, and participation is valued over immediate technical perfection. This approach not only develops skills but fosters confidence, helping operators stay active and contribute meaningfully over the long term.

Online spaces are also showing positive examples. Moderated forums, social media groups, and digital communities increasingly enforce codes of conduct, curbing sarcasm, public shaming, and exclusionary behavior. Constructive discussion is encouraged, and members are rewarded for mentoring and sharing knowledge. In addition, some groups actively highlight beginner questions and create “starter guides” for new hams, showing that inclusion and technical rigor can coexist. These measures help prevent the attrition that often follows negative early experiences and encourage operators to participate in nets, contests, and emergency exercises without fear of ridicule.

Independent voices—bloggers, educators, and community advocates—have begun addressing gatekeeping explicitly, framing it as a cultural risk rather than a protective measure. They share personal experiences, provide resources, and demonstrate ways to balance tradition with modernization. For example, articles on integrating digital modes, AI-assisted tools, or software-defined radios show that embracing new technology does not compromise technical standards. Instead, it expands accessibility and engagement, allowing more operators to participate fully and safely.

Some operators are also experimenting with hybrid approaches that combine tradition and innovation. For instance, mentorship programs may include CW practice alongside FT8 digital modes, or club nets may pair older analog repeater use with digital voice and data exercises. These initiatives show that it is possible to respect history while preparing participants for modern communication challenges, including emergency scenarios where adaptability is critical.

These efforts demonstrate that change is possible without abandoning tradition. Respect for procedure, technical competence, and historical practices can coexist with mentorship, digital tools, and inclusive practices. Gatekeeping is not mandated by licensing rules or regulations; it is a cultural phenomenon. Rules did not create it, and rules alone will not solve it. Instead, the solution lies in shifting norms, fostering supportive communities, and recognizing that the hobby thrives when participation is encouraged rather than restricted.

In many ways, these changes signal hope for the future. Communities that embrace constructive mentoring, welcome digital modes, and integrate modern tools like AI for education or content creation are building a more resilient, adaptable, and engaged operator base. They demonstrate that amateur radio can evolve, attract new participants, and retain experienced operators while maintaining standards. The key lesson is that the hobby’s strength comes not from excluding participants but from empowering them, ensuring amateur radio continues to grow, innovate, and maintain its relevance in everyday operation, technical experimentation, and emergency communication alike.

Why This Conversation Matters

Amateur radio faces significant external pressures. Spectrum demands from commercial interests, regulatory constraints, and technological redundancy all place limits on what the hobby can do. Digital communication, cellular networks, and satellite systems increasingly handle tasks that amateur radio once fulfilled, from message relays to long-distance contacts. In this environment, adaptability, innovation, and broad participation are not optional—they are essential for the hobby’s survival and continued relevance.

Cultural self-sabotage compounds these external pressures. Gatekeeping reduces participation precisely when the community most needs new ideas, skills, and energy. Every discouraged newcomer is a potential operator, mentor, or advocate lost. Every veteran who withdraws due to a hostile culture diminishes institutional knowledge and operational capacity. The irony is stark: while amateur radio’s history was defined by experimentation and technological advancement, resistance to change today undermines both growth and preparedness.

It is important to note that people entering amateur radio are not asking for lowered expectations. They are not seeking shortcuts to competence; they want a fair opportunity to learn, practice, and contribute. When the community welcomes them, these individuals become productive operators, share knowledge with others, and strengthen clubs, repeaters, and emergency networks. When dismissed, ridiculed, or excluded, they quietly move on to other technical hobbies, leaving the hobby with fewer participants and less collective capability.

Ultimately, the combination of external pressures and internal gatekeeping represents a dual threat. Spectrum may be limited, technology may advance, and regulations may evolve—but the real danger comes from a culture that turns away potential participants. To thrive, amateur radio must embrace its own principles of learning, experimentation, and communication—not just in words, but in practice, mentorship, and inclusion.

Looking Forward: Culture Determines the Future

The future of amateur radio will not be determined by nostalgia alone. Its continued relevance, resilience, and vibrancy depend on how the community aligns behavior with its stated values. If amateur radio truly values experimentation, learning, technical mastery, and public service, it must confront the informal barriers that undermine those principles. Gatekeeping—whether through sarcasm, exclusion, rigid adherence to tradition, or subtle social enforcement—directly contradicts the spirit of the hobby and threatens its long-term health.

Gatekeepers thrive when people remain silent and when their actions go unexamined. By discouraging questions, ridiculing mistakes, or enforcing conformity quietly, gatekeepers exert influence without accountability. This makes cultural change slow and often invisible until participation dwindles, emergency preparedness suffers, or innovation stagnates. It is no exaggeration to say that the informal social rules of exclusion are as powerful as any regulatory requirement in shaping the behavior of operators. Speaking out, sharing experiences, and highlighting barriers is essential to breaking this cycle and creating a culture where learning and participation are prioritized over conformity and intimidation.

As we have seen throughout this discussion, gatekeeping affects retention more than recruitment. While new licenses may still be issued, the early social experience of a newcomer often determines whether they continue to operate, explore new modes, or contribute to the community. Newcomers and returning operators face social friction that discourages hands-on learning, limits skill development, and reduces participation in nets, clubs, and emergency exercises. Experienced operators may avoid mentoring or experimenting for fear of public criticism. Even modern tools—digital modes, AI-assisted resources, or software-defined radios—can be discouraged simply because they deviate from familiar practices. The result is a shrinking, less adaptable community, which compromises not only everyday operations but also the critical role amateur radio plays in emergency communication.

Emergency communication, perhaps more than any other aspect of amateur radio, demonstrates the stakes of this culture. Amateur radio operators have historically provided vital communications during natural disasters, power outages, and other emergencies when conventional infrastructure fails. This mission requires trained, confident, and motivated operators who can respond without hesitation. Emergencies do not allow for delayed learning, experimentation under observation, or waiting one’s turn. Operators must know their equipment, modes, and procedures in advance. When gatekeeping discourages participation or punishes mistakes publicly, it erodes confidence, reducing the number of active, capable operators available in a crisis.

One of the simplest truths about emergency communication is that having enough people is as critical as having skill. During my years with CERT (Community Emergency Response Teams), I saw how even well-trained volunteers struggled to meet operational needs simply because there were not enough participants. Staffing check-in points, relaying messages, monitoring nets—these tasks require coordination and manpower. Inadequate numbers lead to overworked operators, slower communications, and gaps in coverage. Amateur radio faces the same challenge. Gatekeeping compounds this problem by discouraging capable new operators, resulting in a smaller, less confident pool of volunteers. Even highly skilled veterans cannot fill the gaps alone, and the hobby’s capacity to serve the public is directly diminished.

Modern emergency communication increasingly intersects with digital systems, data transmission, and network integration. Automated reporting, packet radio, mesh networks, and digital modes like D-STAR, FT8, or DRM all enhance efficiency and reliability in crises. Operators with expertise in these areas are invaluable. Yet gatekeepers often dismiss such skills, equating familiarity with computers or digital technology with a lack of seriousness. This reduces overall preparedness and reinforces a false dichotomy between “traditional” and “modern” competence. Skills that can save lives or improve communications in high-stakes situations are marginalized, not nurtured.

Cultural barriers have consequences beyond immediate operations. Public agencies and emergency management organizations evaluate amateur radio based on participation, professionalism, and adaptability. A shrinking, inward-facing community struggles to maintain credibility in these contexts. Agencies may hesitate to include amateur radio in integrated emergency plans if they perceive the operator community as unwelcoming or resistant to modern tools. Gatekeeping is therefore not just a social issue—it is a strategic vulnerability, affecting the hobby’s ability to fulfill one of its most important public service missions.

Beyond emergencies, gatekeeping harms the day-to-day life of the hobby. Newcomers face ridicule for simple mistakes, for asking basic questions, or for experimenting with new modes or tools. I have personally witnessed harsh scolding over minor procedural issues, such as the use of a roger beep, or being discouraged from participating in a repeater clearly marked for public use. Impromptu nets can be intimidating when operators key up so quickly that anyone trying to join cannot participate—or, in the case of digital repeaters, cannot disconnect without disrupting others. Across social media and online forums, I have seen some of the meanest comments directed at newcomers for basic questions. Entire online communities have grown and then lost members because gatekeeping created an unwelcoming atmosphere.

Retention, not recruitment, is the real problem. While licensing numbers indicate initial interest, long-term participation depends on whether individuals feel welcomed, supported, and capable. Early interactions—on repeaters, in clubs, or online—shape attitudes that persist for years. When newcomers feel dismissed or publicly corrected without context, motivation erodes. Repeaters see declining use. Clubs struggle to maintain membership. Events rely on a shrinking pool of volunteers. Gatekeeping accelerates this decline by filtering out exactly the people needed to sustain the hobby.

A culture of mentorship, not intimidation, preserves standards more effectively than gatekeeping ever could. Technical competence, spectrum discipline, and procedural knowledge are best taught through guidance, explanation, and constructive feedback. Authority earned through teaching is far more durable than authority enforced through ridicule. In this model, standards are upheld naturally because operators internalize expectations, rather than performing only under the gaze of judgmental peers. This approach accommodates both tradition and modernization, allowing veterans to pass on knowledge while embracing new modes, digital tools, and even AI-assisted resources to support learning.

The resistance to modernization—digital modes, software-defined radios, AI-assisted tools—is a continuation of this gatekeeping mindset. Some operators view FT8, DRM, or AI-assisted writing and visual content as shortcuts or threats to authenticity. One amusing but telling example is the complaint that an FT8 operator could contact all countries in a region in hours, while others spent years achieving similar recognition using DX FM phone. Whether or not this scenario is technically accurate, it highlights a cultural tendency to measure mastery not by results or competence, but by adherence to traditional methods. Responsible adoption of tools, including AI, does not diminish skill—it enhances it. Those who leverage AI for writing, research, or visualization do so to amplify effort, not to replace knowledge or judgment.

A few people have criticized my blog—claiming the use of AI makes it “sloppy,” objecting to my writing style, or questioning the images I create. Those complaints will not deter me. I use AI as an assistive tool, helping with research, drafting, and creating visuals, but I do not blindly rely on it. Every piece reflects my perspective, judgment, and experience. AI amplifies effort; it does not replace expertise, context, or human oversight. This approach mirrors the broader lesson for amateur radio: modern tools—whether AI, digital modes, or software-defined radios—are valuable when used responsibly. They do not diminish skill; they enable it.

Despite these challenges, signs of progress exist. Some clubs now emphasize structured mentorship and onboarding, providing classes, hands-on workshops, and supportive nets. Online communities are increasingly moderated to prevent sarcasm, shaming, and exclusion, encouraging constructive discussion instead. Independent voices address gatekeeping as a cultural problem rather than a safeguard, highlighting ways to balance tradition with innovation. Hybrid approaches—pairing Morse code practice with FT8, or analog repeater nets with digital exercises—demonstrate that inclusion and modernization can coexist with technical rigor.

It is critical to recognize a broader truth: gatekeepers are the death of any hobby, organization, or company. Their influence, whether subtle or overt, stifles curiosity, discourages participation, and slows innovation. In amateur radio, gatekeepers reduce the number of active operators, erode morale, and limit the transfer of knowledge to new generations. The hobby thrives when people are empowered to explore, experiment, and contribute. It diminishes when rigid hierarchies, fear of judgment, and cultural exclusion dominate. Gatekeeping is not a safeguard; it is self-sabotage.

Those who enter amateur radio are not asking for lowered expectations. They are asking for a fair opportunity to learn, contribute, and grow. When welcomed, they become operators, mentors, and advocates. When dismissed, they quietly move on. The hobby loses twice: it loses participants, and it loses potential future leaders who could have sustained and strengthened the community. In this context, gatekeeping is not merely a nuisance—it is an existential threat to the hobby’s vitality and long-term survival.

Continuing to write about these issues invites criticism. Choosing silence would be easier—but silence allows cultural problems to persist unchallenged. Gatekeeping thrives precisely because it is rarely examined, and because people who could counter it remain silent. Speaking out, sharing experiences, and highlighting barriers breaks that cycle, making it possible to build a more welcoming, skilled, and resilient community.

The question is no longer whether amateur radio can afford to be more welcoming. The question is whether it can afford not to be. Its survival, relevance, and contribution to technical education and public service depend on retaining participants, integrating modern tools responsibly, and fostering a culture of mentorship and learning. Those who enter the hobby with curiosity, energy, and skill are not threats—they are the very lifeblood that ensures amateur radio continues to thrive for generations to come.

Ultimately, amateur radio’s future hinges on culture as much as technology. Technical competence, adherence to standards, and respect for procedure are essential—but they are insufficient without a community willing to teach, support, and encourage. Gatekeeping undermines all of these goals, while mentorship, inclusion, and thoughtful adoption of modern tools strengthen them. The choice is clear: the hobby must empower its participants, celebrate learning, and embrace modernization if it hopes to endure.

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D. Bryan King

Sources

Disclaimer:

The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.

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Exploring Satellite Communication for Amateur Radio Enthusiasts: Accessing the ISS and Beyond

2,453 words, 13 minutes read time.

https://open.spotify.com/episode/4bgSi0XQEZQHUSMoD2G5CG

Amateur radio has always been a fascinating hobby, offering endless opportunities for communication across the globe. But what if I told you that you could take it even further? Imagine sending a signal from your station that reaches the International Space Station (ISS) or even other satellites orbiting the Earth. This level of communication isn’t just for the professionals—it’s accessible to amateur radio enthusiasts with a little knowledge, the right equipment, and some patience. In this post, we’ll dive into the world of satellite communication, specifically how amateur radio operators can access the ISS and beyond.

Understanding Satellite Communication

Satellite communication, in the context of amateur radio, refers to using satellites to communicate over long distances, often through radio signals relayed by satellites in orbit. These satellites can be either geostationary, meaning they remain in a fixed position above Earth, or low Earth orbit (LEO) satellites, which move across the sky, passing over different locations as they orbit the Earth.

In amateur radio, the most common satellites are LEO satellites, which are ideal for short-range communications but provide exciting possibilities for global contact, such as accessing the ISS. These satellites are often used for Voice or Data transmission, with communication modes ranging from analog FM to digital modes like PSK31 and FT8.

Accessing the International Space Station (ISS)

One of the most thrilling aspects of amateur radio satellite communication is the opportunity to communicate with astronauts aboard the ISS. The ISS serves as an active hub for amateur radio operations through a program called ARISS (Amateur Radio on the International Space Station). This program allows amateur radio operators from around the world to make contact with the astronauts in orbit, provided certain conditions are met.

To get started with accessing the ISS, you’ll need a few key pieces of equipment and some knowledge of how satellite communication works. Here’s a more detailed look at what you’ll need:

1. A Suitable Transceiver

To communicate with the ISS, you’ll need a VHF/UHF transceiver that can transmit on the 144 MHz and 435 MHz bands. These frequencies are commonly used for satellite communications and specifically for operations involving the ISS. The VHF band (144-148 MHz) is used for uplink signals, meaning your signal from Earth to the satellite, while the UHF band (435-438 MHz) is used for downlink signals, meaning the satellite’s signal to you. A good transceiver that supports both of these bands will enable you to transmit and receive signals to and from the ISS.

In addition to frequency capability, it’s important that your transceiver has the necessary features to handle satellite communication. For instance, many amateur radio operators use radios with an Automatic Frequency Control (AFC) function to help mitigate issues with frequency drift, which can be caused by the Doppler effect as the satellite moves. Some radios also have built-in satellite modes that adjust for Doppler shifts automatically, making communication easier during high-speed passes.

2. A Directional Antenna

A directional antenna, such as a Yagi or an Arrow antenna, is essential for satellite communication with the ISS. Unlike a simple omni-directional antenna, which broadcasts in all directions, a directional antenna focuses the signal in one direction. This is critical because the ISS moves rapidly across the sky, and to maintain a strong, stable signal, you must point the antenna directly at the satellite.

The Yagi antenna is particularly popular among amateur radio operators for satellite communication because of its high gain and relatively compact size. If you’re just starting out, there are portable models available that can be easily set up and taken down. When you’re tracking the ISS, you’ll need to continually adjust the antenna’s direction as the satellite moves overhead. Having a high-quality, directional antenna will ensure you get the best possible signal strength and quality during these brief communication windows.

3. Tracking Software and Tools

Since the ISS orbits the Earth every 90 minutes, it will only be in range for a short window of time. To effectively communicate with the ISS, you need to know when it will be passing over your location, and where to point your antenna. Fortunately, there are a number of tracking software applications and websites that can help with this.

One of the most popular tracking tools is the Heavens-Above website, which provides real-time satellite tracking, including the ISS. Additionally, N2YO is another excellent resource for tracking the ISS and other satellites. These websites allow you to input your location and provide you with the exact time and trajectory of the ISS’s next pass over your area. There are also mobile apps available for iOS and Android, such as ISS Tracker and GoISSWatch, which provide real-time notifications when the ISS is about to pass.

Tracking software typically includes information like the satellite’s altitude and azimuth, showing you exactly where in the sky to point your antenna for optimal communication. Some programs even provide Doppler shift predictions, helping you adjust your frequency settings in real-time.

4. A Good Understanding of Satellite Passes

To make contact with the ISS, timing is everything. The ISS orbits the Earth roughly every 90 minutes, meaning it moves rapidly across the sky. Since the satellite only remains in range for a brief period, you’ll need to carefully plan your communication attempts around its pass schedule.

The pass of the ISS is predictable, and knowing when it will pass overhead is crucial to making contact. Each satellite pass lasts only a few minutes, and the ISS’s orbit means it’s constantly moving in and out of range. For example, if you’re trying to communicate via an overpass at the horizon, the satellite will be very low and its signal strength weaker. Conversely, during the overhead portion of the pass, the signal is typically stronger.

Tracking software or apps will show you exactly when the next pass will occur in your location, including the duration and the satellite’s maximum elevation angle. This means you can plan to be ready with your equipment at the right time to catch the best part of the pass.

Additionally, understanding the Doppler shift effect is crucial. As the ISS approaches, its frequency will be slightly higher than the nominal frequency due to the Doppler effect, and as it moves away, the frequency will shift lower. If you’re using a manual system, you’ll need to adjust your frequency settings in real time as the satellite moves. Many modern radios and tracking software can handle this automatically, but it’s something to be aware of if you’re manually tuning in.

5. Other Considerations

While these four components—transceiver, antenna, tracking software, and pass understanding—are the core requirements for communicating with the ISS, there are a few other things to keep in mind:

  • A stable power supply: Since satellite communication requires a lot of focus and can sometimes take several attempts, ensuring your equipment has a reliable power source is crucial. Consider using a battery backup or a reliable generator if you’re setting up in a remote area.
  • A quiet environment: Satellite communication can be affected by interference, so a quiet radio environment is essential. Avoid operating near strong RF interference sources like power lines or large electrical equipment.

By carefully preparing these elements, you’ll be well on your way to making contact with the ISS and taking part in one of the most exciting facets of amateur radio. With the right equipment and knowledge, you’ll soon be able to join the ranks of amateur radio operators communicating with the International Space Station!

When the ISS is within range, you can attempt a communication session using a simple “CQ” (calling for any contact) or by listening to the astronauts as they periodically transmit their voice for public Q&A. Make sure to respect the ISS’s frequency allocations and be mindful of the rules for operating in such a unique environment.

Satellites: Exploring Beyond the ISS

While the ISS serves as an exciting gateway for amateur radio enthusiasts to explore satellite communication, it is just the tip of the iceberg. Beyond the ISS, there is a whole universe of satellites to discover. Known as “AMSATs” (Amateur Radio Satellites), these satellites provide a wealth of opportunities for communication with fellow amateur radio operators across the globe. These satellites are often in Low Earth Orbit (LEO), meaning they orbit the Earth at altitudes between 200 and 2,000 kilometers, and they offer unique capabilities for both voice and data communication.

AMSATs operate on a variety of frequencies and modes, providing options for operators of all levels to engage in satellite communication. Some satellites are designed specifically for voice communication, while others are set up for digital modes, and many support a combination of both. These satellites can be used for everything from simple voice QSOs (contacts) to more complex digital modes and data transmissions.

For those new to satellite communication, AMSATs offer an accessible way to extend your range and reach new parts of the world without the need for long-distance ground-based communication systems. Here’s a closer look at some notable AMSATs and how you can access them.

Notable AMSATs You Can Access

  • AO-91 (RadFxSat-2) AO-91 is a popular amateur radio satellite operating in LEO and is part of the RadFxSat mission. Launched by AMSAT, this satellite is designed to offer both FM voice and digital communications. It’s an excellent choice for newcomers to satellite communication due to its simple, user-friendly FM voice repeater, which is perfect for making voice contacts with fellow ham operators. AO-91 also supports digital communication modes such as BPSK31, a mode widely used for low-data-rate digital transmissions.The satellite has an uplink frequency of 145.880 MHz and a downlink frequency of 435.150 MHz, both of which are common in the amateur satellite community. Its orbit provides a great opportunity for operators to connect during relatively short passes across the sky, making it an excellent tool for practicing satellite communications.
  • AO-92 (RadFxSat-1) AO-92, also known as RadFxSat-1, is another AMSAT in LEO that provides both voice and digital communications. Much like AO-91, AO-92 is designed to facilitate communication using FM voice repeater capabilities, making it ideal for new satellite operators. In addition to voice communication, AO-92 supports digital modes, including PSK31, which is a popular digital mode for text-based communication over radio.AO-92’s operating frequencies are very similar to those of AO-91, with an uplink frequency of 145.880 MHz and a downlink frequency of 435.350 MHz. The satellite’s regular passes provide reliable opportunities for operators to make contact, and its clear voice capabilities make it a favorite among satellite enthusiasts.
  • SO-50 (Saudi-OSCAR 50) SO-50 is another LEO satellite that has been in service for years. It is an FM voice repeater satellite, making it an excellent choice for operators who want to make simple voice contacts. The SO-50 satellite has an uplink frequency of 145.850 MHz and a downlink frequency of 436.795 MHz. Although it’s older than some of the other satellites, it remains a reliable choice for operators due to its easy-to-use FM voice repeater and its regular passes over North America and other regions.
  • FO-29 (Fuji-OSCAR 29) FO-29 is a unique satellite because it supports both analog FM voice communication and SSB (single-sideband) operations, allowing for longer-range, high-quality communication. This satellite is particularly useful for operators who want to experiment with different modes of communication. FO-29’s downlink frequency is 435.795 MHz, and its uplink frequency is 145.850 MHz. While it operates in a higher frequency range than the simpler FM repeaters, it’s a valuable satellite for more advanced operators looking to broaden their skill set.
  • How to Communicate with AMSATs

    Like the ISS, most AMSATs are in Low Earth Orbit, which means they move quickly across the sky and are only in range for a few minutes at a time. To successfully communicate with these satellites, operators need to carefully track their position in real-time and adjust their antennas accordingly to maintain contact as the satellite passes overhead.

    Tracking AMSATs

    Tracking the position of AMSATs is similar to tracking the ISS, but it requires more frequent adjustments because most AMSATs have shorter passes and may appear and disappear quickly. To do this effectively, you’ll need tracking software or apps, such as Heavens-Above, N2YO, or SatPC32, which can provide precise data about when an AMSAT will pass over your location and where to point your antenna.

    These tools offer detailed information about each satellite’s pass, including the elevation (how high in the sky it will appear), azimuth (the compass direction from which the satellite will come), and duration of the pass. Many amateur radio operators use automated antenna tracking systems that can adjust the antenna’s position based on satellite location data, but if you’re manually tracking, you’ll need to be prepared to rotate your antenna during the pass.

    Antennas for AMSAT Communication

    For satellite communication, a high-gain, directional antenna is essential. Common options for AMSAT communication include Yagi antennas and the Arrow 2m/70cm handheld antenna. These antennas are designed to provide a narrow, focused beam that can be directed toward the passing satellite. Due to the rapid movement of these satellites, operators must continuously adjust their antenna’s direction to keep the signal strong and clear.

    Short Passes and Doppler Shift

    One of the challenges of communicating with AMSATs is the Doppler effect, which causes the frequency of the satellite signal to shift as it moves relative to your position on Earth. As the satellite approaches, the frequency will be slightly higher than the nominal frequency; as it moves away, the frequency will be slightly lower. This shift can cause issues if you don’t adjust your frequency settings in real-time. Fortunately, most modern radios are equipped to compensate for Doppler shift automatically, but it’s important to be aware of this phenomenon when using older equipment or if you’re manually tuning.

    Operating on Satellites

    While it’s thrilling to make contacts with satellites, communication on these frequencies requires the same etiquette and consideration as traditional amateur radio operations. Keep your transmissions brief, especially during peak usage times when multiple operators may be trying to access the same satellite. Be patient, listen for your turn, and always be respectful of others on the air.

    Conclusion: The Expanding World of AMSATs

    Satellite communication in amateur radio is an exciting and expanding frontier, and AMSATs offer an incredible opportunity to communicate with fellow ham operators all over the world. While the ISS is a great starting point, AMSATs like AO-91, AO-92, SO-50, and FO-29 open up even more possibilities, allowing you to explore different modes, frequencies, and communication techniques.

    With the right equipment, tracking software, and a little practice, you’ll be able to enjoy the thrill of satellite communication, expanding your reach and exploring new ways to connect with the amateur radio community.

    D. Bryan King

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    Exploring Satellite Communication for Amateur Radio Enthusiasts: Accessing the ISS and Beyond

    The Deep Dive · Episode

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