Breaking a routine makes it incredibly difficult to find your way back. I am currently feeling that friction with my writing; due to the Pesach break, I haven’t penned a column in two weeks. Now, the task is to find my rhythm again.
I could write in exhaustive detail about the current status of the war against Iran, but I find it unnecessary. Thus far, I haven’t encountered anyone—including the staunchest Trump supporters—who is satisfied with its progression. The primary takeaway remains the Strait of Hormuz. Before the conflict, it was a free-flowing maritime artery; today, Iran controls access to it. One would have expected the U.S. to secure this vital passage as a foundational part of their offensive. Instead, the administration seemed caught off guard by Iran’s retaliation, despite it being a predictable response. Washington is now scrambling to address the failure by finally initiating a blockade. It is better late than never, but it remains difficult to fathom why they allowed Iranian oil to be sold by easing sanctions during the war rather than applying maximum economic pressure.
Moving to the centerpiece of today’s column: This past week, Artemis II bypassed the moon, setting a new record for the farthest distance traveled from Earth by a manned mission. At 252,756 miles, it eclipsed the long-standing record held by Apollo 13. For those interested in the demographics of the mission, the crew notably included the first female and the first minority astronauts to fly around the moon. It also featured the first non-American: a Canadian. This partnership is perhaps a nod to a simpler time; until Trump’s second term began, the two nations shared exceptionally warm relations and a seamless working rapport. Poignantly, the crew returned to NASA’s Houston base on the 56th anniversary of the Apollo 13 launch.
For those of us who remember the Apollo program, there is a distinct sense of déjà vu. The last time man walked on or flew by the moon, the country was mired in an unpopular war. We find ourselves in much the same position today.
The original Apollo program ended primarily due to ballooning costs and a waning sense of public enthusiasm. While the Artemis program has garnered some excitement, it pales in comparison to the fervor of the late 1960s. When President John F. Kennedy declared in 1961 that the United States would reach the moon by the end of the decade, I was too young to remember the immediate reaction, but there were undoubtedly many doubters. Yet, through sheer American ingenuity and talent, we achieved the impossible. When Neil Armstrong took that “giant leap,” the world watched in collective celebration. Back then, every young boy dreamed of becoming an astronaut.
Comparing the technology of 1969 to today’s digital age makes that feat seem even more miraculous. It is staggering to think that 57 years later, NASA is not projected to put another person on the lunar surface until 2028.
My theory regarding the loss of interest in Apollo is simple: Once the goal was met, the public felt there was nothing left to accomplish. There seemed to be little practical use for the vast expenditure of time and money required to return. Nevertheless, the fact that over half a century has passed without a lunar landing remains surprising.
In the 1960s, the space race was a critical front in the Cold War. The USSR had put the first human in space and appeared to be leading the pack. The U.S. simply could not allow the Russians to claim the moon. Today, we face a new adversary in China, who may be eyeing the lunar surface for their own ends. This is likely the true catalyst for our return. With modern technology, controlling lunar territory may soon become a matter of significant national security. However, even when the U.S. finally returns to the moon—hopefully in 2028—I don’t expect the public enthusiasm to ever truly rival the magic of 1969.
On a personal note, back in 2009, I attended a book signing on Long Island for Buzz Aldrin, the second man to walk on the moon. It was a thrill to see and hear such an iconic figure of American history. Finding the motivation to write again may be hard, but remembering what we are capable of achieving makes the effort worthwhile.