There is a second space race, with America on the back foot
The Space Launch System (SLS) vehicle has once again been rolled out to the launchpad, preparing to send the Artemis II spacecraft into orbit. This mission, first reported at the end of January, is meant to mark a milestone: the first crewed flight of the Artemis program, launched during Donald Trump’s first presidency and designed to return Americans to the Moon.
For the astronauts involved, it will also be a first. They will fly aboard the SLS, a super-heavy rocket assembled from Space Shuttle-era components, and travel in the Orion spacecraft, which has been in development for years as NASA’s vehicle for deep-space missions. For the first time in half a century, humans are expected to venture beyond Earth’s orbit. Even if, for now, the plan is only to fly past the Moon without entering its orbit.
Yet behind the symbolism lies a program under pressure. Years of underfunding and shifting priorities have left Artemis struggling to maintain momentum. Meanwhile, China is accelerating its own efforts and may yet become the first country to land humans on the Moon in the 21st century. Washington has noticed and is now attempting to respond with a series of abrupt and, in some cases, radical changes.
The Artemis II launch has already illustrated the program’s fragility. As anticipated, technical issues intervened. A helium leak in the upper stage forced NASA to roll the rocket back from the launch pad to the assembly building in late February. Earlier, less serious problems had been resolved on site, but this one proved more persistent. The entire March launch window was lost. A new attempt is now scheduled for early April, though further delays could push it back to the end of the month.
Under normal circumstances, such rescheduling would merit only brief attention. But Artemis is no ordinary program. It has become emblematic of the broader difficulties facing American space policy, and of the gap between ambition and execution.
Originally, Artemis II was to be followed by a lunar landing in 2028 under the Artemis III mission. Before that, SpaceX’s Starship-based lunar lander was expected to complete at least one uncrewed landing and ascent. The plan was ambitious, even by NASA standards, but it rested on a series of assumptions that now appear increasingly optimistic.
At the center of the problem lies SpaceX’s lunar lander. Selected by NASA in 2021, it is an enormous and complex system, arguably over-engineered for the program’s early stages. Crucially, it depends on the full operational capability of SpaceX’s Starship, a system that, as of March 2026, has yet to reach orbit even once.
The concept is as intricate as it is unproven. Multiple Starship launches would be required to assemble an orbital “tanker,” which would then be refueled with tens of tonnes of propellant, a process that has never been demonstrated in space. Only then could the lunar lander itself be fueled for its journey. After that comes the not insignificant challenge of landing a 50-meter spacecraft on the Moon and bringing it safely back.
Recognizing the risks, NASA hedged its bets. In 2023, it awarded a parallel contract to Blue Origin to develop an alternative lunar module. This system, known as Blue Moon, is smaller and less ambitious, and could potentially perform an unmanned test landing as early as this year. Originally intended for later missions, it has now been pulled into the front line.
The shift in strategy became explicit with the arrival of NASA’s new administrator, Jared Isaacman. Facing criticism over repeated delays, he has opted not to defend the original plan, but to rewrite it. Artemis III will no longer attempt a lunar landing, or even travel to the Moon. Instead, it will focus on docking maneuvers in high Earth orbit, testing the interaction between spacecraft and lander systems.
In many ways, this is a return to earlier, more cautious approaches. During the Apollo era, NASA conducted a dedicated test mission, Apollo 9, to validate the lunar module before committing to a landing. That lesson, it seems, is being relearned.
At the same time, Isaacman has called for more frequent launches. The logic is simple: a rocket flown once every few years will never become routine. Each launch will carry the weight of accumulated uncertainty, increasing the likelihood of errors. By contrast, a higher launch cadence could improve reliability. Though whether this is feasible, given current constraints, remains an open question.
Cost reduction is another priority. Plans to develop a more powerful version of the SLS, featuring a new upper stage, have been shelved. Instead, NASA is moving towards a standardized configuration, simplifying production and operations. The long-discussed Gateway lunar orbital station, once a central element of the program, now appears to be slipping into the background. Postponed, if not discreetly abandoned.
Taken together, these changes suggest a program in retreat from its original ambitions. The rhetoric remains bold, but the underlying strategy is becoming more pragmatic, and perhaps more realistic.
Even so, the timeline remains tight. A successful lunar landing in 2028 would now represent not just progress, but a minor miracle. Too many components remain untested, too many dependencies unresolved.
And all the while, China is advancing. This year, Beijing is expected to begin unmanned tests of its new crewed spacecraft and launch system. Its goal, a human landing on the Moon by 2030, is ambitious but increasingly plausible. Unlike the American approach, China’s program appears more linear, more controlled, and less dependent on a complex web of private contractors.
This is the context in which Artemis must now operate. The United States is no longer competing with its own past, but with a determined and capable rival. The second space race is already underway, and it is gathering pace.
If Washington continues on its current trajectory – adjusting plans, postponing milestones, and relying on technologies that remain unproven – it risks falling behind. Not decisively perhaps, but enough to lose the initiative.
Half a century after Apollo, the question is no longer whether the United States can return to the Moon. It is whether it can do so first.
This article was first published by Kommersant, and was translated and edited by the RT team.
