The Fifty Four Year Gap
NASA's historic lunar mission resumes after 54 years, exploring the competitive motivations behind the Apollo program and public sentiment during its inception.
5 minutes · No politics · Just things worth knowing
Transcript
It's Friday, April third, and welcome to HigherIQ. On Tuesday evening, four astronauts launched from Kennedy Space Center aboard NASA's Orion spacecraft and left Earth orbit for the Moon. They are the first humans to make that journey since December 1972. That's a fifty four year gap. We put twelve people on the lunar surface between 1969 and 1972, then stopped and didn't go back for more than half a century. The reason wasn't technology. We had the technology in 1969 with less computing power than a modern thermostat. The reason was that going to the Moon was never really about the Moon. On May twenty fifth, 1961, President Kennedy stood before a joint session of Congress and committed the United States to landing a man on the Moon before the end of the decade. The speech is remembered as visionary, but the motivation was purely competitive. The Soviet Union had just put the first human in space. America needed a dramatic, visible response. The Moon wasn't chosen because it was scientifically important. It was chosen because it was hard enough to prove American superiority and close enough to be achievable within a presidency. NASA's budget surged. At its peak in 1966, the agency consumed about four and a half percent of the entire federal budget. Adjusted for inflation, the Apollo program cost roughly two hundred and eighty billion dollars. The engineering was extraordinary. The Saturn V rocket generated 7.5 million pounds of thrust at liftoff. The guidance computer had less memory than a modern calculator. And on July twentieth, 1969, Neil Armstrong stepped onto the lunar surface in front of an estimated six hundred and fifty million viewers worldwide. But public support was never as strong as the mythology suggests. A 1967 Harris poll found that forty six percent of Americans opposed the lunar landing program, with only forty three percent in favor. Fifty four percent said the four billion dollar annual price tag wasn't worth it. The Apollo 11 landing produced a surge of national pride, but it didn't translate into lasting enthusiasm for more missions. Apollo 13's near-disaster in 1970, when an oxygen tank explosion crippled the spacecraft and the crew barely survived a harrowing return to Earth, was the only post-Apollo 11 mission that grabbed front-page headlines, and it grabbed them because people almost died, not because people were exploring. By the time Apollo 17 flew, television networks were barely covering the launches. Moon landings had become routine, which is perhaps the most extraordinary sentence in the history of exploration. NASA had originally planned ten lunar landing missions, through Apollo 20. Three were cancelled before they ever flew. The first to go was Apollo 20, cut in January 1970 to free up a Saturn V rocket for the Skylab space station. Then in September 1970, Apollo 18 and 19 were cancelled after further budget cuts. President Nixon even pushed to cancel Apollo 16 and 17, though his budget deputy talked him out of it. Nixon's view was blunt. He told NASA that he "did not see the need to go to the moon six more times." On January fifth, 1972, Nixon announced the Space Shuttle program. His pitch was about making space access routine and affordable, not about exploration. "It will take the astronomical costs out of astronautics," he promised. The shuttle was designed for low Earth orbit: ferrying satellites, building space stations, serving military needs. Deep space was off the table. The decision to build the shuttle was also the decision to stop going to the Moon. NASA's budget couldn't support both, and the agency's leadership chose the shuttle because it preserved jobs and institutional relevance even though it confined human spaceflight to orbiting two hundred miles above Earth instead of traveling two hundred and forty thousand miles to another world. What followed was a fifty four year cycle of cancelled programs, each one promising a return and each one dying for the same reasons. George H.W. Bush announced the Space Exploration Initiative on the twentieth anniversary of Apollo 11 in 1989, promising a return to the Moon "to stay" and then a mission to Mars. NASA's internal cost estimates came back at four hundred billion dollars. Congress killed it. Bill Clinton redirected NASA toward the International Space Station, which cemented low Earth orbit as the priority and consumed the bulk of the human spaceflight budget for the next two decades. George W. Bush announced the Vision for Space Exploration in 2004, partly in response to the Columbia disaster, and created the Constellation program to build new vehicles for lunar missions. The target was a landing by 2019, the fiftieth anniversary of Apollo 11. But Constellation was predicated on the shuttle retiring sooner than it did, freeing up budget. The shuttle kept flying. Constellation was underfunded from the start, fell behind schedule, and produced cost overruns. Obama cancelled it in 2010, proposing instead to skip the Moon and go directly to an asteroid. Congress rejected that plan and directed NASA to build the Space Launch System instead, which inherited many of Constellation's contractors, workforce, and political supporters. Each new president proposed a new destination, Congress partially funded it, the next president scrapped it and started over, and the infrastructure for leaving Earth orbit never got built. Meanwhile, the Saturn V production lines were shut down, the specialized workforce dispersed, and the institutional knowledge that had put humans on the Moon gradually disappeared. The Space Shuttle flew from 1981 to 2011. It was supposed to fly a hundred times a year and reduce launch costs to a tenth of existing systems. It flew a hundred and thirty five times total over thirty years. Two of those flights ended in disaster: Challenger in 1986 and Columbia in 2003, killing fourteen astronauts. The per-launch cost, adjusted for inflation, ended up being roughly 1.5 billion dollars. The shuttle consumed NASA's human spaceflight budget for three decades and produced no capability to leave low Earth orbit. After the shuttle retired in 2011, Congress directed NASA to build the Space Launch System, the rocket that just carried the Artemis II crew toward the Moon. The program has cost over a hundred and five billion dollars so far and has not yet landed astronauts on the surface. A lunar landing is targeted for 2028, under the Artemis III mission. If it succeeds, it will have taken fifty six years to do something we first accomplished with slide rules and vacuum tubes. The Artemis II crew, Commander Reid Wiseman, Pilot Victor Glover, and Mission Specialists Christina Koch and Jeremy Hansen of the Canadian Space Agency, launched at 6:35 PM Eastern on April first. They are currently on a ten day trajectory that will take them around the far side of the Moon, farther from Earth than any humans have traveled since Apollo 17. Glover is the first Black astronaut on a lunar mission. Koch is the first woman. Hansen is the first non-American. On Monday, April sixth, they'll fly close enough to the Moon's far side to photograph terrain that no human has ever seen directly. The mission does not include a landing. It's a test flight, designed to prove that the Orion spacecraft's life support systems work with humans aboard. But the fact that proving a spacecraft can keep four people alive for ten days qualifies as a major milestone tells you everything about how far the program fell behind. We solved this problem fifty four years ago. We're solving it again because we let the solution disappear. So if this comes up in conversation, here's how to think about it. Four astronauts are on their way to the Moon right now, the first humans to make that journey in fifty four years. The gap between Apollo 17 and Artemis II is not a story about technology. We had the technology in 1969. It's a story about what happens when a program built to win a geopolitical competition achieves its goal and loses its political reason to exist. Every president since Nixon has promised to go back. Every program was cancelled or replaced before it could deliver. The shuttle consumed three decades and two crews without ever leaving low Earth orbit. Artemis is the latest attempt, and whether it succeeds depends less on engineering than on whether the political will lasts longer than one administration. The Moon hasn't gone anywhere. We just kept choosing not to go. Stay informed, stay curious, and we'll see you tomorrow.
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