2026: A Space Fantasy

The Artemis II crew of four astronauts will soon sit atop a massive rocket, the Space Launch System, preparing to launch and go where no woman has gone before— circumnavigating the Moon. Many see this mission as the first step toward establishing a permanent human presence on other worlds. As a retired medical researcher and Houston Baby Boomer who grew up with the space program, I have always been captivated by such endeavors. But we should ask ourselves whether another crewed lunar program is a wise investment of public resources. Blasting folks into space and landing on the Moon is dramatic, boosts national pride, and could lead to discoveries with practical uses in the future. However, taxpayers deserve clear, evidence-based reasons for sending humans when robotic missions have already delivered and can continue to deliver superior scientific results at a much lower cost and with less risk to humans. While we can do both, I will assert that crewed missions hinder space exploration by diverting valuable resources from robotic missions, which are a more effective and less costly way to expand human knowledge and advance civilization. As such, I believe NASA should refocus its priorities toward more robust robotic missions and less on crewed spaceflight.

The Artemis II mission is a refashioning of the successful 1968 Apollo 8 mission, now with an extra crew member, serving as a test flight to prepare for returning humans to the Moon's surface. As such, the Artemis Program is the 2026 version of the 1960s Apollo Program, which, during its four-year run, landed 12 astronauts on the Moon and safely returned them to Earth. So, why do we want to send humans back to the Moon after more than 50 years?

The milestone mission statement came in 1962 when President John F. Kennedy said these words,

“We shall send to the moon 240,000 miles away, a giant rocket, more than 300 feet tall on an untried mission to an unknown celestial body, and then return it safely to Earth. But why some say the moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask, why climb the highest mountain? Why 35 years ago fly the Atlantic? We choose to go to the moon. We chose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things not because they are easy, but because they are hard. Because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we're willing to accept. One we are unwilling to postpone. And therefore, as we set sail, we ask God's blessing on the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure that man has ever gone.” 

The motivating Moon speech was aspirational, inspirational, and perhaps poetic. But like all such words, they fade quickly unless they are firmly rooted in a solid foundation of reality. To better grasp Kennedy’s words and the true motivation, we should remember that they were spoken just 17 years after WWII, 13 years after the Soviet Union tested its first nuclear weapon, and 5 years after the launch of the hammer-and-sickle-adorned Sputnik, the first human-designed object blasted into Earth orbit. I remember (I was 10-years old) the anxiety that little metal ball caused. In response, the Apollo Program (and its precursors) was an American (using German technology) display of power, a symbol that we can tackle this and other hard challenges, born out of post-World War II tensions.

More than fifty years later, both the Trump and Biden administrations supported the Artemis Program, but neither delivered an iconic speech that satisfactorily articulated the nation’s reasons for returning humans to the Moon. The justifications and motivations have mainly come from NASA. However, their words, although more scientifically precise than Kennedy’s, lack the persuasive poetry of urgency that could truly inspire the nation to undertake such a monumental and costly task— again. NASA lists several reasons to return humans to the Moon:

- Establish a permanent human presence on the Moon.

- Build a lunar economy, including forming commercial partnerships.

- Conduct advanced research to study the history of the Solar System.

- Prepare for human missions to Mars.

- Inspire the next generation to pursue careers in science and technology.

- Maintain America’s leadership in space exploration. 

Any of these can spark curiosity in most humans, but only the last one will cause the Eagle to open its talons and dig deeper into its pockets—because it senses a threat to its pride and security. And who better than the world’s largest exporter to deliver that threat to us? In 2023, China announced its plan to send a crew of Taikonauts to the lunar surface by 2030. Fortunately, we already have a playbook for situations like this. Dust off the Apollo Program blueprints to beat them to it, although any country other than the USA landing humans on the Moon now will be the second to do so. We “won” that race, but a new contender is eager to claim the throne of the Space King, and we need to prove we still have more than the “right stuff”— load the rocket.

Over the past fifty years, our technology has advanced far beyond what was available for the Apollo program. Today, we have the Artemis Program and the Space Launch System (SLS), which some proud audio cassette owners from back in the day might have thought were a Buck Rogers rocket of the future. It’s not, but it does cost big bucks. The SLS is a rebuilt version of the Saturn V, with hydrogen instead of kerosene as fuel and solid rocket boosters strapped to the sides, the Apollo-style service module, and a slightly larger crew compartment, now called, ironically, Dragon. Apollo 8 was launched in the same year (1968) that Stanley Kubrick’s film “2001: A Space Odyssey” was released. Although a masterpiece of imagination, the film was entertainingly wrong in its portrayal of overly lavish future space capabilities. A quarter-century after 2001, the SLS and Artemis Program offer little new in terms of technological capabilities and immediate mission goals compared to the Saturn V and Apollo, except for extra room for one more astronaut, updated software to control the mission, and a bit more boost to carry the additional weight of the extra human and needed supplies. Isaac Newton’s 17th-century work provided us with the math needed to go to and land on the Moon. Since the force of gravity (or, for Einstein fans, the warping of space-time by the Earth and Moon) remains the same as it was in the 1600s, 1968, and 2026, it’s no surprise that the SLS closely resembles the Saturn V that launched all Apollo missions. 

But there are some important context-related differences. Primarily, the Apollo Program was created and executed by “The Greatest Generation.” These were goal-focused, storm-the-beach types who ignored hardships when given a clear objective—put a man on the Moon and bring him back safely. This generation was also the last American group to experience a clear, unambiguous victory in a war. They believed they could accomplish it, and they did. They were also the first to see that there was no need to keep pursuing this task, much like the Egyptians eventually decided that building pyramids for the Pharaohs was a wasteful use of resources.

So, why, after nearly sixty years, are so many of us still eager to send humans back to that spherical desert in the sky when such a feat was once considered impressive, but the only notable discovery was that it is unnecessary? Over those sixty years, technology has advanced to the point that we now have sent robotic probes to gather information throughout our solar system and deployed space telescopes that allow us to “walk around” on Mars and observe the edge of the observable universe — to see things no human has ever seen. We can conduct valuable space exploration and cosmic science without humans on board a rocket. However, the success of Apollo gave many of us Boomers false confidence that “if we can go to the Moon, we can do anything (just give us the money!).” For decades, Star Trek, Star Wars, and other space-themed stories have saturated our culture, creating a false sense of swashbuckling space adventure that underestimates gravity, the vastness of our Solar System, and life's fragility. The truth is, we are closer to Kubrick’s rising ape than Roddenberry’s space maverick, Captain Kirk. Yet, despite Hollywood’s unrealistic visions of the future, they achieved a feat that no human space mission ever will—costing taxpayers little or nothing while turning a profit.

Which brings us to the topic of money. How much does our lunar obsession really cost? According to NASA’s report to Congress in 1974, the Apollo Program is estimated to have cost over $300 billion in today’s dollars; the initial proposed cost was about half that. This serves as a reasonable benchmark for the Artemis program, considering inevitable cost overruns. It's fair to assume that the return on investment will be similar to Apollo’s: a few brave people walking on the lunar surface 240,000 miles from Earth, placing some instruments on the regolith, planting an American flag, and bringing back all the Moon rocks allowed by weight for analysis on Earth. Those familiar with this field know that all the science could be done with robotic extensions of ourselves at a much lower cost. The US had landed 5 probes on the Moon, and the Soviet Union 2, before Apollo 8. Eventually, in 1997, we put a small rover on Mars, 100,000,000 miles from Earth. Since then, we have landed five more rovers (each more and more sophisticated) and a helicopter. All performed better and lasted longer than planned, accomplishing their tasks of exploring and analyzing the surface. The Curiosity Rover (landed in 2012) and Perseverance with its scout helicopter, Ingenuity (landed in 2021), are still operational, except for Ingenuity, which stopped functioning after about 3 years, 72 flights (it’s seeing-eye mission covering about 10 miles from its deployment site). The Perseverance/Ingenuity mission cost approximately $3 billion. The total expense of all Mars rovers and the helicopter is around $8 billion, just 3% of the Apollo Program.

The Perseverance mission was to be linked to the Mars Sample Return robotic mission to retrieve canisters of Martian soil that the Perseverance rover is currently collecting. Through all the rovering and probing, we have learned that Mars once had surface water and might have supported life. Those samples could contain definitive evidence of extraterrestrial life, which would be among the most significant discoveries in human history. It is disheartening that, recently, Congress canceled funding for that program because they deemed it too expensive (estimated at $10 billion). So, the entire Mars Rovers/helicopter/Mars Sample Return would have an estimated cost of $18 billion—6% of the cost of the Apollo program. Yet— the Artemis Program moves forward.  Once humans are aboard a rocket, the main priority shifts to keeping them alive; science and discovery become secondary.

Some of the most vocal arguments and justifications for human spaceflight are that it produces impressive spin-off technologies that benefit everyone on Earth. While that’s true, it applies to any major endeavor, including launching space probes to distant locations. I believe that mastering the control of rovers and flying machines over hundreds of millions of miles of space has improved our ability to communicate with each other on Earth. We could go tit-for-tat for each spinoff from both crewed and robotic space programs, but if we only justify the main effort by potential beneficial spin-offs, then the main effort itself isn't justified. The costs of these efforts should lead us to focus on doing something more useful, less expensive, and less risky for humans. Still, we plan to circle the Moon and land there again, trying to convince ourselves that by 2030, humans will walk on Mars, pick up those lonely canisters, and bring them back to Earth for analysis—something we can accomplish now with a sample-return mission at a much lower cost. Every time you launch a human into space, science and discovery take a back seat.

But isn't it also true that humans are naturally curious explorers, and we need to venture into the last frontier? Yes, indeed. But all good explorers understand their strengths and limitations. For over half a century, we have steadily improved robotic technology and engineering to expand our reach across the Solar System and the cosmos; these mechanical extensions of ourselves can go there, stay, work, and communicate across hundreds of millions of kilometers. Humans have gained more from these efforts than from trying to send a few people at a time into low Earth orbit (240 miles above the Earth’s surface—the distance from Houston to Dallas), or a handful of brave explorers briefly visiting the lunar surface. For those who have never done so, I invite you to click a few buttons on your keyboard and explore the Universe like no astronaut can. Here are some recommended sites: For the cosmos—Hubble and JWST; for Mars—Mars Rovers and Mars Odyssey; for Jupiter and its moons—Galileo and Juno; for Saturn and its moons—Cassini/Huygens; for Uranus and Neptune—Voyager 2; and Pluto—New Horizons. These websites are a convenient starting point for exploring the final frontier. 

But others will be more impressed by the business aspects and see our nearest space neighbors as mineral-rich lands just over the next mountain. We will need hands-on people to mine those motherlodes, if they exist. The problem here (and there) is that it’s a bridge way too far, and sometimes we seem to drown in new technologies that do more harm than good. Let’s not make the situation worse by wasting resources when it’s easier and cheaper for Earthlings to develop local technology that uses fewer rare commodities. 

Others argue that we must build it so we can go to save humanity. There is fear—and partial-truth and under-specification marketing that stokes it—that Earth and its inhabitants face extrinsic, existential risks, such as a large asteroid impact or a solar flare that could make the planet uninhabitable. Would it not be a good idea to create a backup civilization on the Moon or Mars to safeguard humanity's future? No, despite our childhood imaginations, it is not a good plan. In the 1950s and early 60s, Mars appeared as a blurry red object in the sky, so blurry that it sparked wild speculation that it was infested with evil creatures we would eventually need to battle. Consider some of the popular movies during the Beatles’ invasion: The War of the Worlds, Invaders from Mars, and the inappropriate Mars Needs Women. But that perception should have changed in 1965, after Mariner 4 (look, Ma, no humans aboard) whizzed past the red planet and brought it into clearer focus. It provided a very underrated discovery: Mars is covered with craters, making it more Moon-like than Earth-like, with little or no magnetic field, and an atmosphere that is merely a wispy remnant of Earth’s. Of course, those craters were created by falling space rocks—expected, given its proximity to the asteroid belt and its lack of an atmosphere to burn up or deflect incoming objects, much like the Moon. Mars and the Moon are not suitable sanctuaries; attempting to make them so is more likely to hasten our demise. 

There is a camp that believes we need to develop the technology to transform the Moon and Mars into more Earth-like environments. First, know thyself and thy limitations. The Moon and Mars are massive, distant objects; they are not little fixer-uppers. Moreover, if we develop the technology to transform uninhabitable planets into livable worlds, we will also have the means to make Earth a more hospitable place. So, the “fix-it-up” argument is upside down. We should first develop technology to make more of Earth more habitable, then we can proceed to Mars if we decide we need to in the distant future. So far, there is no evidence that indicates we should do so anytime soon.

There is another “kind of” reason to inhabit other worlds— we have spent this much, let’s keep going. And NASA and SpaceX, a self-proclaimed private company, are almost, almost ready to go. Many believe the private sector will eventually fund human space, so let’s do it since the money isn’t coming directly out of our pockets. The reality is that the massive effort required for a long-term human presence in space—whether in low Earth orbit or on a desert planet—cannot even be attempted, let alone sustained, without significant taxpayer funding. Resources shouldn’t be wasted on costly adventures, with all due respect to JFK, just because they are hard. 

I wish the brave and daring Artemis II crew (Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch, and Jeremy Hansen) a safe and successful journey and will cheer them on with the same youthful enthusiasm I had as a thirteen-year-old when Alan Shepard blasted off into space. After all, watching that event fostered my interest in science, a clear benefit of the human spaceflight endeavor. But as an adult, I am reminded of what Marcus Aurelius told us almost 2,000 years ago: “Ask yourself every moment: Is it necessary?”