Fifty-five summers ago, Neil Armstrong planted humanity’s first footprints on the Moon: a triumph etched in grainy black-and-white, static crackling across oceans, and the dreams of tens of millions of young, impressionable Earthlings taking flight. Today, privately developed rockets light the skies every 48 hours and the lower bounds of space (low Earth orbit) no longer feel out of reach. Against this backdrop, and the quasi-”democratization” of LEO, the economic and strategic stakes of space have risen exponentially, alongside enduring questions of national pride and technological prestige. Yet the essential question we face today remains precisely the one confronted by Apollo’s architects more than half a century ago:
Why are we going? and to what end?
Dan Goldin, cofounder of Per Aspera and the longest-serving NASA Administrator, reminds us: “Start with the ‘why,’ not the ‘how.’” Each American taxpayer underwrites ~$600 a year in federal R&D, shaping our nation’s economy, security, and global standing. Of that, ~$245 funds NASA, the Space Force, and other civil space initiatives. Though seemingly modest, every dollar demands careful stewardship, absolute transparency, and strategic clarity.
“If we can’t explain to the American people exactly why we’re spending their money on space, we simply cannot justify it,” Dan emphasizes. Space exploration fuels growth, fortifies national security, sparks invention, and when done right, inspires the generations who follow.
But resources are finite and priorities matter. The choices America makes today, how honestly we confront tradeoffs, how clearly we justify investments to the public, and how decisively we prioritize strategic goals, will shape not just our future in space but also our economic strength, national security, and the character of American ambition itself.
Moon first: Logical next step, strategic gateway
After 25 years mastering life in orbit (with the ISS), America’s next step is clear: we must return to the Moon, this time permanently. This is not a nostalgic encore, or a symbolic gesture for a romantic frontier. The Moon is the critical proving ground for humanity’s next phase of exploration. Its ancient regolith is a time-capsule four billion years deep, holding clues to Earth’s formation, the early Sun, and the chemistry that sparks life. Setting up shop there forces us to perfect closed-loop life-support, rad-hardened habitats, and autonomous construction. This is a toolkit we’d need for Mars, the asteroid belt, and beyond.
And science is only half the story. The Moon is strategic terrain anchoring the cislunar corridor: an orbital shipping lane where comms relays, fuel depots, and surveillance assets will live. Whoever controls this corridor will broker access to every high-value orbit and deep-space trajectory that follows. Beijing’s Chang’e program already treats the lunar surface like contested high ground. Even a quarter-million miles from Earth, the old adage applies: might makes right. And the first mover will write the rules.
Yes, the Moon tantalizes with commercial possibilities: potentially transformative deposits of Helium-3 that could power future fusion reactors, abundant lunar ice for rocket propellant, and valuable minerals ripe for extraction. But those windfalls are distant and the business case uncertain. Over the next decade, the real currency is geopolitical, and nation-states will be footing the bill. America must articulate these realities clearly, explaining to citizens why lunar leadership matters — not just symbolically, but strategically, scientifically, and economically.
Returning to the lunar surface by the end of 2028 through Artemis would demonstrate America’s strategic resolve and clarify our long-term intentions in space. But politics, capacity for precision execution, and shifting priorities loom as hurdles more treacherous than lunar craters.
An inspiring, but premature frontier
Mars stirs the imagination like no other destination, promising humanity a hopeful frontier and diehard libertarians a place of refuge and new beginnings. Elon Musk has crystallized this vision best, invoking a Plymouth Rock redux, and Americans overwhelmingly agree:
But Mars confronts us with brutal realities. The Red Planet is relentlessly hostile, with punishing radiation, unknown physiological consequences from extended stays in partial gravity, and an atmosphere composed almost entirely of CO₂ at pressure less than 1/100th of Earth’s. Early settlements may need to retreat underground, confronting immense technological and logistical complexity just to survive.
For any publicly funded Mars effort, taxpayers deserve conversations that balance bold ambition with clear-eyed evaluation. Mars should not be hastily dismissed, nor blindly championed, especially given the heavy demands on a limited national budget. None of this argues we shouldn’t strive. America thrives on audacity. Starships should absolutely attempt the voyage, boldly testing and proving what’s possible. But limited public resources may be better served prioritizing the Moon. Mastering lunar living, just days from Earth, is an essential stepping-stone to more distant frontiers. There, we can refine the life-support, habitats, and resilience required to turn Mars from a bold one-way ticket into a sustainable outpost.
Mars will have its day. But first, we must build our beachhead on the Moon, thoughtfully and strategically, securing the foundation we’ll need to venture farther.
Asteroids hold a different type of promise
Asteroids are not just sci-fi props or floating space rocks; they’re vaults packed with trillions of dollars in platinum-group metals; base metals like iron, nickel, and cobalt; life-sustaining water ice; and rare-earth elements, in higher abundance on some near-Earth asteroids than on Earth itself. Famously, Goldman Sachs suggested a while back that asteroid mining could mint Earth’s first trillionaire. In addition to the possibility of vast wealth, asteroid mining holds the potential to sustain humanity’s outward push into the solar system.
Yet this topic has not permeated public consciousness. And, of course, mining asteroids is no walk in the park. Precision navigation across millions of miles, robotic extraction in microgravity, and refining ores in space all present hard engineering challenges. Even tougher: getting those riches economically back to Earth. Yet these are precisely the challenges America excels at tackling, if we choose wisely.
Private enterprise should lead the charge, with the government focused on clearing the path. The smartest government move isn’t pouring endless billions into its own asteroid fleet (unless we’re talking planetary defense), but to de-risk the commons. This is uncharted territory, with echoes of past frontiers: distant horizons, uncertain fortunes, and no guarantees of success. America’s job now is not to promise outcomes, but to clear obstacles, draw the maps, and let bold prospectors test their fate among the stars.
Deciding wisely in an era of limits
Not every horizon demands immediate pursuit, and we must deliberately and strategically pick our battles. Our space program cannot afford to spread its ambition thin, which risks diluting focus, squandering public trust, and forfeiting strategic advantage. To lead in space, we must define clear and achievable goals, justify priorities to the American public, commit resources decisively, and execute with disciplined precision.
“America cannot afford scattershot investments. Transparent discussion, rigorous justification, and public buy-in must precede every launch.”
Dan Goldin
Moon first, we say. Not because it’s close, but because it extends the foothold we already hold in orbit, and command of cislunar space is the ante for everything that follows. Mars still beckons, and near-Earth asteroids glint with future fortunes, but their near-term advance belongs to private initiative, not expansive (and expensive!) government bets.
In the months ahead, Per Aspera will interrogate every trajectory (Moon, Mars, asteroids) through a series of Antimemos designed to sharpen the national conversation. These aren’t distant abstractions; the choices we make in this decade will shape factories, flight paths, and deterrence for the next century.
Nearly three in four Americans now believe Apollo was worth it, even though the program lacked a mandate at the time. Yet only one-third feel today’s space program adds “a lot” to their daily lives. Closing the perception gap is both our opportunity and obligation. Whatever giant leap we choose, Job #1 is to explain, plainly and persuasively, why it matters to the nation’s economy, security, and future. That clarity is the prerequisite for any wise and decisive advance.