Here in 2026, something remarkable has happened: humanity, for the first time since the Apollo era, has returned to the Moon. Despite all of our technological, computational, materials science, rocketry, and manufacturing advances that had occurred since 1972, no human had left the confines of even low-Earth orbit, just a few hundred kilometers up above Earth’s atmosphere, in 54 years. All of those advances had never been applied — with the appropriate long-term commitment of resources — to sending humans out into the Universe to explore, with their own eyes, bodies, and experiences, the vast abyss of space.
And then, from April 1st to April 11th of 2026, just like that, we did. The culmination of years of work by thousands of scientists, engineers, technicians, and support staff, not only brought humans back to the Moon for the first time since the Apollo 17 mission in 1972, but carried them farther away from Earth than any human had ever traveled before. The astronauts on board, because of the phases of the Moon, were also able to gaze upon portions of the far side of the Moon that had never been glimpsed with human eyes. They saw four flashes of light on the unilluminated portion of the Moon: evidence for lunar impacts, never reported before. And they inspired millions of people, reminding us all of our dreams for taking humanity farther into the Universe than ever before.
But with NASA and the National Science Foundation — among many other scientific organizations and enterprises — facing the most severe proposed cuts in history, many scientists are simply unable to celebrate. Instead, they view Artemis II as one of the final gasps of a legacy of science and exploration that’s currently being strangled to death. Here’s why.

“The effort to understand the Universe is one of the very few things which lifts human life a little above the level of farce and gives it some of the grace of tragedy.” -Steven Weinberg
It’s easy to make a long list of all the good that investing in science has done for society over our civilization’s history. It was science that enabled us to understand how to plant, grow, and breed crops: the birth of agriculture. It was science that led us to develop the plough, the wheel-and-axle, metalworking, and medicine. Science led us to the discovery of the microscopic world, the germ theory of disease, the practice of antisepsis. It gave us water supplies, sewers, and later, electrification. It brought about all of the advances of the modern world: computers, telephones, mass production, automobiles, and much, much more.
But that’s not why we do it. In fact, that’s never been why science has been conducted. In fact, scientists are notoriously terrible at predicting what types of inventions and technologies their discoveries and profound insights will lead to. Einstein couldn’t have envisioned that his greatest achievement, general relativity, would lead to a network of satellites that could measure your position anywhere on Earth to sub-centimeter accuracy, but that’s precisely what Gladys West did in developing GPS from his ideas. Heinrich Hertz, who proved the existence of radio waves, famously declared that they had no practical applications, but was later proved wrong when Guglielmo Marconi developed wireless telegraphy with it.

In other words, science isn’t necessarily conducted with a specific end-result in mind, or a technological goal that will lead to a quantifiable benefit for humanity. Instead, it’s conducted out of the spirit of curiosity and the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake. As Max Planck, one of the founders of quantum physics, put it:
“The forces of nature, such as electricity for instance, were not discovered by men who started out with the set purpose of adapting them for utilitarian purposes. Scientific discovery and scientific knowledge have been achieved only by those who have gone in pursuit of it without any practical purpose whatsoever in view.”
We conduct science for two reasons. First, we do it because we are interested in learning how reality actually is. We want that information so that we know how to tell:
- what is true from what is false,
- what is real from what is fiction,
- what is physically possible from what is physically impossible,
- and what is mandatory from what is forbidden.
We don’t just want to know what works and what doesn’t work, but rather we want to know how it all works: we want that explanatory power. We want to be able to predict, given a certain setup, what’s going to happen, when, and in what amount. These insights apply to all realms of science, from theoretical physics to treating a disease to ocean ecology to quantum computation and more.

But we also do it because, with each new discovery that we make, we increase both the sum total of human knowledge, as well as which technological feats and applications become possible. We used to think that nature was deterministic, and yet if you are given a radioactive atom, you can only determine the probability that it will have decayed after a certain period of time has elapsed; you cannot predict its exact decay time. We used to think that heavier-than-air flight was impossible, as several famed physicists asserted shortly before the Wright Brothers successfully accomplished it. And we used to think that turning lead into gold was impossible, but this feat was actually accomplished just last year at the Large Hadron Collider at CERN.
We cannot know in advance what sorts of new applications or technologies will come into existence from conducting the raw science alone. That is not what the purpose of science is, after all, although it is a downstream benefit that civilizations gain by conducting it. As Robert Goddard, legendary rocket scientist, famously said:
“It is difficult to say what is impossible, for the dream of yesterday is the hope of today and the reality of tomorrow.”
Almost exactly 100 years after the launch of Goddard’s first liquid-fueled rocket, the 25th, 26th, 27th, and 28th humans in all of history left the Earth behind and flew to the Moon aboard Artemis II: the first time anyone has done so in 54 years.

But this time, unlike in the Apollo era, there are very few arguing that this is a giant step for all of humankind. Sure, the future that so many of us have dreamed about is still within reach: a future where science and technology are used to benefit all of humanity. A future where:
- technology is used to create an abundance of food, energy, medicine, and wealth,
- where all humans work together for the collective good of society and each other,
- where poverty, disease, and war become concerns of the past,
- and where we collectively invest in continuously pushing those frontiers of knowledge and possibility, pursuing new scientific horizons at every opportunity.
As has been made abundantly clear here in 2026, however, that is not the path that is presently being pursued: not by NASA, not by the United States, and not by planet Earth as a collective whole. The environment that gives rise to scientific success has always looked the same throughout all of human history: a society that values investment in the big questions, that supports its scientists with sustained funding, state-of-the-art laboratories and facilities, and that gives them the space they need to concoct and develop ideas, to tend to the fertile ground of intellectual exploration, and to share information with similar minds all across the world. That was the formula that helped the United States and the rest of the world develop so rapidly in the aftermath of World War II, and that’s precisely what’s being destroyed in the United States today.

There is no sugar-coating the truth of the matter. Last year, in 2025, the President’s proposed FY2026 budget included deep cuts across the board for science:
- a total 24% decrease in NASA’s overall budget,
- a 47% decrease specifically for NASA science, where the science mission directorate oversees Earth Sciences, Heliophysics, Astrophysics, and Planetary Science,
- a total cancellation of more than 40 missions and projects,
- the elimination of the Office of STEM Engagement,
- and an accompanying more-than-50% cut to the National Science Foundation’s budget,
in addition to deep cuts for many other science-related organizations in the country.
Then, despite that budget not yet being law, appropriated funding was withheld, the NSF was kicked out of their office headquarters, positions were illegally terminated, thousands of NASA employees were pressured into early retirement, and several missions were sabotaged, including NASA’s AXIS.
There was a glimmer of hope when, in the aftermath of a large-scale grassroots campaign to maintain existing funding, the government reopened in late fall of 2025, as the US Congress rejected many of the proposed budget cuts and reinstated funding for NASA and the NSF for the next fiscal year. But then just as Artemis II was embarking upon its mission, the FY2027 budget was released.

It was basically the same proposal as the prior year, with the following relevant similarities:
- cut NASA’s total budget by 23%,
- cut NASA’s science funding by 47%,
- completely eliminate more than 40 (by some accounts, more than 50) independent missions and projects,
- close down the office of STEM engagement,
- and cut the NSF’s budget by more than 50%.
It is the most pro-war, anti-society budget ever proposed since the end of World War II. It is, as others have noted, an incredible self-own for the country: destroying the legacy of what made America the great nation it became in the mid-to-late 20th and early 21st centuries. But there are several factors that make the situation here in 2026 even worse than the situation that was faced last year.
First, the people critical to keeping our scientific infrastructure intact during 2025’s assault by the federal government — thousands of senior people, including administrators — are now retired. They cannot help us this time.
Second, the organizations tasked with setting the policies that drive American science forward — the National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine, the National Science Board, the Presidential Council of Advisors on Science and Technology, etc. — have either been eliminated, as in the case of the National Science Board, or have had non-scientists and noted partisans inserted into their ranks. They are no longer independent advisory boards that can be relied on for accurate, truthful information. They also eliminated the planetary science advisory board.

Third, ideologically-driven leaders of various national science enterprises in the country have been installed across the board, and are now entrenched. Lee Zeldin leads the EPA. Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., leads the Department of Health and Human Services. Jared Isaacman, the new NASA administrator, refused on April 27th, 2026, to support and advocate for the suite of science missions that are already funded in front of the United States Congress. Jay Bhattacharya runs the National Institutes of Health. And, of course, the list goes on, as deeply as you care to look.
And finally, everyone is exhausted from merely fighting for survival on so many fronts. Tens of thousands of scientists have already left the country, seeking better and more stable opportunities abroad, making the events of 2025 and 2026 (so far) the largest brain drain of any advanced country on Earth since the fall of the Soviet Union.
As many have noted, NASA science has been doing such incredible work on a “shoestring budget” for years now, achieving incredible scientific feats despite routinely being scrutinized to a far more stringent degree than almost any other form of discretionary spending. With the proposed cuts for the FY2027 budget, that string is about to break. Moreover, scientists can be certain that the same destructive tactics — closing offices, delaying funding disbursement, awarding grants late, withholding funding streams, and proposing ghastly cuts at every opportunity — will come back again and again, year-after-year, until the destruction of American science is complete.

Mind you, it’s not just astronomy, astrophysics, and space sciences that are suffering from these proposed cuts. NASA also plays a major role in understanding our own planet, but its Earth Science division is among the hardest-hit by these cuts. The National Science Foundation funds a wide variety of scientific endeavors, but the FY2027 proposal, when compared to actual allocations from 2025, reads like a funeral service.
- Biological sciences: cut from $801M to $225M.
- Computer and Information Science and Engineering: cut from $945M to $346M.
- Engineering: cut from $749M to $185M.
- Geosciences: cut from $1028M to $426M.
- Mathematical and Physical Sciences: cut from $1562M to $515M.
- Social, Behavioral, and Economic Sciences: cut from $222M to zero.
- Office of International Science and Engineering: cut from $59M to $3M.
- Technology, Innovation, and Partnerships: cut from $676M to $350M.
Scientists across the board, from undergraduates to graduate students to postdoctoral associates to researchers to professors, have felt the brunt of these devastating cuts, often implemented despite not being law. In a far-ranging interview from earlier this year, prominent astrophysicist David Spergel issued what appeared to be an extremely prescient warning about the outlook for science in the United States:
“But there’s also this possibility of real devastation. There is also a scenario in which this is the moment when the United States gives up its global scientific leadership. China starts to play that role, with a tremendous impact economically and militarily.
I’m concerned about the hundreds of PhDs this year who will not pursue careers in research because the market is unable to find positions for them. I’m worried about tens of thousands of undergraduates who decide they don’t want to go to graduate school because there’s just not opportunity there.
I’m hopeful that our political leadership will not go down this path in the end. It would be so devastating to the country to destroy this incredible science enterprise that we’ve built.”

It’s difficult to look at the success of Artemis II, in this context, as much more than a pivot and a distraction for NASA and for US science as a whole when applied to the large-scale destruction of the country’s scientific infrastructure. It’s a pivot toward space militarism: in line with the published plans of the US Space Force for a 2040 vision, the land-grab opportunism associated with ambitions for a lunar nuclear reactor, and the selling out of our planet’s one-and-only orbital environment to whichever billionaires dare to pollute it the fastest.
The truth of the matter is this: you cannot have a society remain successful for long without a deep and sustained investment in the endeavors — like science, education, information literacy, and an adherence to truth — that were necessary to achieving that success in the first place. We can always recover that success, and surpass even the pinnacle of our previous greatness, if we choose to make those investments in a sustained, protected fashion: where no political actors can destroy or touch them. Without those values, and without that investment, it’s difficult to view Artemis II through an optimistic lens, rather than as a distraction from the devastation currently being wreaked upon the world, and on American science and society, from the absolute highest levels of power.