The Artemis II mission has, for the past 10 days, reminded people all across the world just how cool space exploration can be. From the jaw-dropping “Earthset” photo taken by commander Reid Wiseman to the four astronauts’ audible wonder as they flew closer and closer to the moon, to the touching moment when the crew named the moon’s Carroll Crater in honor of Wiseman’s late wife. There’s something about this mission that has felt beautifully, fundamentally human.
The moon has always mattered to us, of course. For as long as our species has been conscious, we’ve incorporated it into our myths and religions. It helped us understand our solar system and has long been a vital component of ancient calendars. Even our modern calendar relies heavily on the moon, from the way we begin our week (Monday) to the 12 sections of our year (months.)
There’s something about this mission that has felt beautifully, fundamentally human.
But it’s also true that this is not the first time we have sent humans on a lunar mission — before Artemis, 24 people had done so, including the 12 who actually walked on the moon’s surface. Given that reality, it’s not surprising that some people aren’t as enthusiastic about this latest attempt. After all, humanity has plenty of things to worry about closer to home — and many Americans likely feel that the tens of billions of dollars that NASA is spending on the Artemis program could be spent addressing more surface-bound problems.
These are fair questions, but I believe there are several reasons why ambitious programs like Artemis are worth our time and our tax dollars.
The most notable reason is existential. The challenge of going to the moon will inspire a generation of humans to be curious, and curious people improve the human condition.
Humans naturally tinker, investigate and explore. We ask questions about things that we need to find answers to, from the trivial to the profound. The pursuit of new technologies and knowledge requires a certain amount of risk. We pull on every thread knowing full well that most of our experiments will be fruitless. That is how the species transitioned from a nomadic group of hunters and gatherers in central Africa to a worldwide civilization with agriculture, cancer treatments, blue jeans and ice cream. And that curiosity has turned the “mythical” journey to the moon into a reality.
Challenge also breeds innovation. There are many examples of technological spinoffs that have resulted from NASA missions over the years, changing how we test food for dangerous microbes, helping companies build more earthquake-resistant buildings and even improving the quality of hearing aids. While I think these spinoffs are a notable benefit of funding Artemis, the largest effect will be on the people Artemis inspires to wonder more deeply. The Apollo missions also created a boom in STEM jobs across the U.S. and inspired students to pursue STEM degrees, especially advanced degrees.
The Artemis program will likewise hopefully push humans to ask the kinds of questions that lead to new knowledge. Our innate human connection to the moon and the challenge of a lunar mission adds significantly to this potential for inspiration.
Artemis II has already provided scientists with a deeper understanding of the moon and the ability to more safely send humans into deep space. The astronauts have used their eyes to observe lunar color and topography in nuanced ways that cameras can’t quite mimic. Some of this topography is from regions of the far side that humans have never seen with their own eyes. They’ve observed a total solar eclipse and the solar corona. The mission has also tested vital spacecraft systems to safely navigate around the moon and safely return. And the astronauts have been able to investigate how radiation affects human bodies — particularly women — in space to build safer spacecraft and spacesuits. All of these tests and observations will allow the Artemis science team to perform research that will be vital for future missions to the moon and, eventually, Mars.
So, will the data gathered this past week directly affect your life soon? Maybe. Maybe not. As a professor of astronomy, it definitely excites me. But more importantly, history suggests that it will also excite other, even more brilliant young minds who may eventually have a chance to change the world — or save it. And that is certainly worth the investment to me.
Matthew Pryal is an assistant professor of astronomy at the University of Virginia. He's passionate about astronomy education, public outreach, and making astronomy accessible to curious humans everywhere.