The world held its breath last week, as four astronauts were hurtling back toward a vast blue ocean, after entering the atmosphere. NASA’s Artemis II crew — comprising Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch, and Canadian Jeremy Hansen, after their historic 10-day journey, splashed down in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of California in the early hours of (Indian time) April 11, 2026. Having just completed a flawless free-return trajectory around the Moon, this mission marks the first time humanity has ventured into the lunar vicinity in over half a century.
But as we watch these space-farers return from the farthest distance humans have ever travelled from Earth, a question keeps cropping up: Why are we going back to the Moon?
This is not a repeat of Apollo. The Apollo missions of the 1960s and ’70s were born of a geopolitical sprint — a dash to plant flags, collect rocks, and quickly return home. Its main goal was summarised by US President John F Kennedy’s famous speech of September 12, 1962, delivered in his inimitable Boston accent: “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.” They used the Saturn rockets to directly hurtle to the Moon in three days- needing a lot of power, and lots of fuel. The six Apollo Moon landings ended with the mission. They did not lead to more activity on the Moon.
Artemis, by contrast, is a meticulously planned marathon. The format of the Artemis mission is similar: First, unmanned probes to the Moon, then a Moon orbiter with people, before people land on the Moon. In the 1960s, the Apollo spacecraft did not even have computers.
The Artemis II mission is a breathtaking feat of modern engineering and human courage. Utilising a free-return trajectory, the Orion spacecraft relied on the Moon’s gravitational pull to seamlessly sling it back toward Earth, minimizing the need for complex engine burns. During their far-side lunar flyby, the crew lost contact with Earth for 40 minutes, drifting through the ultimate quiet of deep space. When they reemerged, they witnessed stunning spectacles: An in-space solar eclipse, earthshine illuminating the lunar surface in a dim blue glow, and an “Earthrise” that showcased parts of Africa, Asia, and Oceania. However, spectacular as this flyby has been, it is merely a glimpse of the ingenuity involved.
To understand why the Moon matters so much to us now, we must look at the structure of the Artemis programme. Artemis differs vastly in ambition, scope, and long-term vision. It is built on international partnerships — incorporating the European Space Agency, Canada, Japan, and the UAE — and a burgeoning commercial space sector. It also reflects humanity’s diversity, sending a diverse team including a woman, a person of colour, and a non-American into deep space.
Artemis I tested the uncrewed Space Launch System and Orion spacecraft. Now, Artemis II has validated those systems with human lives aboard. Soon, Artemis III will return astronauts to the lunar surface. The programme aims to build the Lunar Gateway, a space station in lunar orbit, and establish a permanent base camp at the Moon’s south pole. Artemis differs vastly from Apollo in ambition, collaborative international scope, and long-term vision of staying there.
Strategically and scientifically, the Moon has become invaluable. As the US and global space science budgets face increasing scrutiny, the Moon offers a fiscally stable, game-changing platform for next-generation astronomy. Because the Moon lacks an atmosphere and its far side is permanently shielded from Earth’s cacophony of radio signals, it is one of the quietest places in the solar system.
But why the Moon, and why now? From my perspective as an astronomer, the Moon has become strategically and scientifically invaluable. As funding for massive Earth-based observatories becomes increasingly austere, the Moon is emerging as a pristine, fiscally viable scientific stage.
Earth is a noisy planet. Our ionosphere blocks low-frequency radio waves, and our telecommunications chatter drowns out the universe’s faintest signals. The far side of the Moon, however, acts as a massive shield against Earth’s cacophony. It is one of the quietest places in the solar system. By piggybacking on Artemis, projects like the Lunar Surface Electromagnetics Experiment–Night (LuSEE-Night) aim to place radio telescopes on the lunar far side, to be able to observe the “cosmic dark ages”— the mysterious epoch after the Big Bang but before the first stars ignited.
But Artemis is not just about looking outward; it is about learning how to live away from our home planet. The role of lunar resources and infrastructure is fundamental to enabling future deep-space exploration. Traveling outside the protection of Earth’s magnetic field exposes humans and equipment to severe challenges, notably cancer-causing cosmic radiation. The Moon serves as a critical proving ground to test radiation shielding, life-support systems, and habitats.
The lunar south pole is believed to harbour vast reserves of water ice in permanently shadowed craters. This ice can be mined and processed into drinking water, breathable oxygen, and, most importantly, liquid hydrogen and oxygen for rocket fuel. By turning the Moon into a deep-space gas station, we drastically reduce the cost and weight of launching missions directly from Earth.
Artemis signals a new phase of sustained human presence beyond Earth. We are no longer visiting the Moon; we are moving there. The infrastructure we build, the international cooperation we forge, and the scientific data we harvest will serve as the foundation for the next great leap — a crewed mission to Mars.
As Indian readers watched the splashdown, the resonance was palpable. Nations like India, through the resounding success of the Chandrayaan missions, have already demonstrated that lunar exploration is a global, collaborative endeavour. The success of Artemis II epitomises the evolution of human ingenuity. India’s Gaganyatris in training have a lot to learn from these missions, and ISRO and NASA are working in close collaboration.
It is an era where the Moon serves as both a window into the universe’s deepest past and the stepping stone for humanity’s — and India’s — future journey to Mars. The Moon matters again, because this time, we are going to stay.
Somak Raychaudhury is vice-chancellor and professor of physics, Ashoka University, Delhi-NCR. The views expressed are personal
