In the coming days, NASA is poised to send astronauts toward the moon, a journey not undertaken since 1972. This isn’t a landing, but a flyby – a feat first accomplished by Apollo 8 in 1968. Considering the leaps in technology since then, from microchips to artificial intelligence, it feels less like a giant leap and more like a cautious step, yet it’s a welcome sign that space exploration isn’t solely in the hands of private ventures.
The Artemis II mission will carry four astronauts on a ten-day, 230,000-mile voyage, looping around the moon without venturing closer than a few thousand miles. This crew represents a historic first: the first person of color, the first woman, and the first Canadian to journey to lunar distance. As astronaut Christina Koch stated, “Things are certainly starting to feel real.”
NASA recently unveiled its “Ignition” strategy, encompassing Artemis II and outlining ambitious goals for the future. This includes a 2027 mission, a crewed landing in 2028, and a permanent lunar base by the 2030s, backed by a $20 billion investment over the next seven years. The commitment is clear: to re-establish American leadership in space and maintain a continuous presence beyond Earth.
The vision extends beyond singular missions. NASA aims for frequent crewed landings, potentially every six months, utilizing multiple launch providers and fostering competition. The goal is resolute: America will not relinquish its claim to the moon. This bold ambition, however, begs the question of whether grand pronouncements consistently translate into tangible results.
History is littered with “moonshots” that fell short of their promise. The 2016 “Cancer Moonshot” aimed to “end cancer as we know it,” yet cancer rates, particularly in young adults, continue to rise. Operation Warp Speed delivered life-saving vaccines, but also fueled a surge in vaccine hesitancy. Even Alphabet’s “Moonshot Factory” boasts a mere 2% success rate.
Recent observations of the conflict in Ukraine reveal a similar pattern. The U.S. military’s reliance on expensive, traditional weapons systems has proven vulnerable to inexpensive, AI-driven drones. A German arms manufacturer dismissed Ukrainian adaptations – 3D-printed drone parts created by “Ukrainian housewives” – as mere tinkering, failing to recognize their innovative impact.
This disregard for grassroots innovation echoes a troubling trend within the U.S. healthcare system. A recent analysis reveals that nearly half of all metropolitan areas are dominated by just one or two hospital systems. Over 80% have markets where one or two systems control over 75% of care, and this consolidation has only worsened since 2015.
Hospitals, despite accounting for 40% of national healthcare spending growth, haven’t demonstrated the disruptive innovation needed to address rising costs and improve access. They represent a costly, slow-moving infrastructure – the healthcare equivalent of a tank in the age of drones.
The future of healthcare shouldn’t rely on massive, expensive institutions. The lengthy and costly process of training physicians and translating research into practice feels archaic in an era of artificial intelligence. Similarly, the billions spent on drug development, coupled with years of patent protection, stifle the potential for affordable, effective treatments.
True innovation lies in the unexpected places, in the ingenuity of those adapting to challenges with limited resources. It’s the Ukrainian housewives building drone parts, not the dismissive pronouncements of established manufacturers. It’s time to prioritize the kind of agile, resourceful innovation that can truly transform healthcare, not just perpetuate the status quo.
