The Economic Reality of Lunar Competition

Orion The Orion spacecraft being prepared for Artemis 2. (credit: NASA/Glenn Benson ) The economic reality of lunar competition: beyond the space race rhetoric by John P. Christie Monday, September 29, 2025 NASA acting administrator Sean Duffy’s recent declaration that “we are going to beat the Chinese to the Moon” captures the political zeitgeist perfectly. But buried within his own remarks lies a more troubling economic reality: “At $4 billion a launch, it becomes very challenging to have a moon program”. This tension between political imperative and fiscal mathematics reveals a fundamental disconnect in how America approaches lunar competition—one that may ultimately undermine the very goals it seeks to achieve. This tension between political imperative and fiscal mathematics reveals a fundamental disconnect in how America approaches lunar competition—one that may ultimately undermine the very goals it seeks to achieve. When Duffy acknowledges the unsustainable economics of the Space Launch System while simultaneously demanding acceleration, he’s highlighting a core problem with America’s approach to lunar competition. At current costs, a lunar program of four launches per year would consume $16 billion annually—a large fraction of the agency’s entire budget. This isn’t just expensive; it’s economically incoherent as a foundation for sustained lunar presence. The mathematics become even more stark when considering program duration. If Artemis requires even a decade of operations to establish meaningful lunar infrastructure, we’re discussing $160 billion in launch costs alone, before accounting for other mission operations. Compare this to SpaceX’s projected Starship costs of under $100 million per launch, and the economic irrationality of the current approach becomes clear. Yet rather than addressing these fundamental cost drivers, the political response is to demand speed over sustainability. Duffy’s exhortation that “sometimes we can let safety be the enemy of making progress” and that “we have to be able to take some leaps” suggests a willingness to accept even higher costs in the name of timeline compression. This represents precisely the wrong economic incentive structure for long-term competitiveness. The recent budget drama illustrates another economic contradiction. The Trump Administration initially proposed a historic 24% cut to NASA’s budget, including 47% reductions to science programs. Congress is moving to restore those cuts, but only after months of uncertainty that disrupted program planning and contractor relationships— exactly the kind of instability that drives up costs in complex technical programs. This budgetary whiplash reveals the hollow nature of political commitments to space leadership. If beating China to the Moon were truly a national economic priority, it would merit stable, predictable funding increases, not dramatic cuts followed by political interventions. Instead, we see the classic pattern of American space policy: grand rhetoric accompanied by budgetary uncertainty that makes efficient program execution nearly impossible. The restoration of funding after initial cuts also demonstrates that space programs operate more as political symbols than economic investments. Real economic priorities don’t face 24% budget cuts in the first place. The fact that Artemis funding was protected while science programs faced elimination suggests that the lunar program’s value lies more in its political utility than its economic returns. The current approach embodies what might be called “sprint economics”, an optimizing for short-term political victories rather than long-term competitive advantage. This creates several economic distortions. Rushing to meet arbitrary political deadlines means accepting higher costs and technical compromises that increase long-term program expenses. The SLS exemplifies this problem: a vehicle designed by political requirements rather than economic optimization, resulting in costs that make sustained operations prohibitive. The political imperative to use existing contractors and proven technologies to minimize schedule risk actively inhibits the cost-reducing innovations that could make lunar operations economically viable. SpaceX’s Starship development, proceeding independently of political timelines, demonstrates how different approaches can achieve order-of-magnitude cost reductions. Having invested heavily in expensive approaches, political and bureaucratic incentives favor continuing those investments rather than acknowledging their economic inefficiency. The result is a lunar program that becomes increasingly expensive to maintain and increasingly difficult to abandon. China’s approach, by contrast, appears more economically rational. Their methodical progression through Chang’e missions builds capability incrementally while developing cost-effective technologies. Their Long March 10 rocket, designed specifically for lunar missions rather than adapted from existing systems, represents the kind of purpose-built optimization that America’s political constraints prevent. The economic question isn’t whether America should compete with China in space: it’s whether the current approach creates sustainable competitive advantage or merely expensive political theater. Three key economic realities suggest the latter. Sustainable space economics requires reducing access costs to enable broader participation and innovation. China’s incremental approach and focus on cost-effective technologies better serves this goal than America’s expensive sprint to plant flags. America’s commercial space sector, led by companies like SpaceX, represents the most significant cost innovation in decades. Yet current lunar program architecture largely bypasses these innovations in favor of traditional cost-plus contracting that provides no incentives for efficiency. The witnesses at the recent Senate hearing warned that losing the lunar race would damage America’s economic and diplomatic position globally. As Mike Gold testified, “If they get there first, we will see a global realignment that will impact our economy, our tax base, our ability to innovate, and our national security.” But this assumes that symbolic victories translate to sustained competitive advantage—an assumption that America’s experience in previous space races should call into question. We see the classic pattern of American space policy: grand rhetoric accompanied by budgetary uncertainty that makes efficient program execution nearly impossible. Rather than optimizing for landing first, America might optimize for landing sustainably. This would mean prioritizing cost reduction over schedule compression, leveraging commercial innovation rather than traditional aerospace approaches, building reusable scalable systems rather than expendable demonstration vehicles, and focusing on economic returns from lunar activities rather than political symbolism. Such an approach might concede the symbolic victory of first landing while establishing the economic foundation for long-term dominance. Given that lunar development will likely span decades, the country with the most cost-effective, sustainable approach will ultimately control lunar resources and opportunities. Sean Duffy’s admission that current launch costs make lunar programs “very challenging” while demanding acceleration anyway encapsulates the economic incoherence of America’s lunar strategy. Political imperatives are driving decisions that undermine long-term competitiveness in favor of short-term symbolism. The real question isn’t whether America will return humans to the Moon before a Chinese landing at the end of the decade. It’s whether America will develop the economic capabilities to lead in lunar development over the next 50 years. Current policies suggest the answer may be no, not because America lacks technical capability, but because political constraints prevent the economic optimization that sustained space leadership requires. If America truly wants to win the lunar competition, it needs to start thinking like economists rather than politicians. Otherwise, China’s patient, cost-focused approach may prove more effective than America’s expensive sprint to nowhere. John P. Christie is Associate Professor of Management & Economics and Chair of the Department of Business Management at Regis College.

NASA Needs To Qualify Not Certify Commercial Space Stations

Starlab Starlab is one of several commercial space stations in development for potential use by NASA. (credit: Starlab Space) NASA needs to qualify, not certify. commercial space stations by Steve Hoeser Monday, September 29, 2025 With the retirement and decommissioning of the International Space Station (ISS) just five years away, NASA—partnered with selected industrial partners—is entering the final stages of deploying fully commercial space stations. However, simply applying the programmatic approaches and practices from the previous Commercial Crew Program (CCP) overlooks both the dramatic advances in technology and the fact that the resulting products and services will be entirely owned and operated by private enterprises. Therefore, NASA must recalibrate its perspectives and business practices, recognizing that qualification, rather than certification, is the appropriate framework for determining the suitability of these commercial space stations for NASA’s use. This shift away from traditional NASA programs signals a need to reassess these legacy processes and policies—established during the Apollo era and refined for the ISS—that will determine the viability of future commercial space facilities. For decades, habitable space stations have been owned and operated exclusively by governments, with the notable exception of the ill-fated attempt to privatize Russia’s Mir. This paradigm is poised to shift, driven by growing demand from both governmental and commercial sectors. Declining launch costs, coupled with NASA’s plan to retire the ISS in 2030, underscore the urgency of ensuring a sustained US human presence in low Earth orbit. In response, NASA has launched two initiatives: a non-reimbursable Space Act Agreement (SAA) and the Commercial LEO Destinations (CLD) program. These efforts aim to secure orbital facilities for NASA astronauts while catalyzing the development of US-owned commercial space stations. The SAA contract is with Axiom Space and the second contract is a competitive CLD commercial space station development program with multiple commercial teams. The Axiom agreement provides for at least one habitable commercial module to be attached directly to the ISS prior to its decommissioning. Axiom’s plans are to add additional commercial modules to this module and fly this facility as an independent self-sustaining orbiting commercial space station. The CLD program is structured as a public-private partnership. The intent is to create additional independently owned and operated commercial space stations. NASA has indicated they plan to lease space and services from these new commercial facilities to continue their space research and house NASA astronauts. These facilities will also support “commercial” customers who want to conduct international country sponsored research, industrial space manufacturing, commercial research, and potentially an adventure tourism destination. No longer using government-owned and operated facilities, the advent of these commercial space facilities alters the government’s operational, program, and regulatory landscape. Specifically, NASA must decide how to ensure these private stations meet their needs. A key need is to ensure the safety of their astronaut “employees” who will be booking stays, leasing space, and using government-provided equipment on the space they rent from these new commercial space facilities. This shift away from traditional NASA programs signals a need to reassess these legacy processes and policies—established during the Apollo era and refined for the ISS—that will determine the viability of future commercial space facilities. Perspectives and impacts of using certification NASA considers its astronauts to be government employees, and therefore holds them to the same rigorous health and safety risk standards that apply to all NASA personnel. In light of this, NASA determined that the informed consent practices used for commercial spaceflight participants—outlined in the Commercial Space Launch Act (CSLA) and administered by the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA)—do not adequately fulfill the agency’s responsibility to ensure the health and safety of its astronauts. In the past, NASA instituted “human rating” requirements under the CCP that were based on NASA’s previously used certification processes for the new commercial crew launch systems and capsules. Application of these stringent demands affected proposed design specifications, number and types of verification testing, and operational demonstrations. NASA’s former rules included additional requirements for systems to provide increased redundancy and specific abort systems. These additional mandates ended up adding time and costs to the program. These CCP delays ended up forcing a continued dependence on and payments to Russia until May 2020. It wasn’t until then that SpaceX flew their first Crew-1 mission on its Falcon 9 using their Dragon capsule. This was more than ten years after the shuttle’s retirement, and almost four years after the initial planned SpaceX Commercial Crew first mission verification flight. Boeing has not yet conducted a successful flight test confidence mission to prove their Starliner’s worthiness for general transport of NASA astronauts. Furthermore, if Sierra Space’s commercial Dream Chaser transport is expected to meet the same certification and rating requirements established under NASA’s Commercial Crew Program, it will necessitate a new NASA contract to pay for work to authorize the vehicle for astronaut carriage. Commercial space facilities present a paradigm shift Under the ongoing CLD and Axiom SAAs, NASA is again employing a public-private partnership contract approach. This approach requires joint funding by select commercial company partners along with investments by NASA. As part of their program approach NASA appears poised to extend the same human-rating processes to “certify” the new CLD habitats. This is being done even though these next-generation space stations will be commercially owned and operated, not government-owned platforms such as the ISS. This shift introduces three key challenges: 1. Ownership and control: NASA must navigate the complexities of creating and maintaining an ongoing process for certifying and recertifying systems it does not own or directly control, raising questions about oversight authority and operational accountability. 2. Liability and risk allocation: The agency must establish clear frameworks for liability and risk-sharing between NASA and commercial operators. This includes a clear agency and government position on indemnification, especially in scenarios involving government personnel aboard privately operated platforms. 3. Requirements harmonization: NASA’s internal safety and mission assurance requirements may conflict with commercial design and operational philosophies, requiring negotiation and adaptation to ensure mutual compliance without compromising astronaut safety. NASA lacks statutory authority Of key impact to addressing these issues is that NASA has no statutory authority to “certify” commercially owned and operated space facilities and systems. Unlike the FAA, NASA has not been directed nor granted the authority by Congress to conduct certification of commercial space facilities. They do, however, have every right (and the responsibility) to “qualify” commercial facilities for NASA personnel and equipment use. To clarify the important differences between qualification and certification: An unintended consequence of NASA’s assertion that it must certify commercial space facilities for safety is the implicit signal it sends to the broader marketplace: that facilities not certified by NASA may be inherently unsafe or substandard. Qualification refers to a system’s successfully meeting a set of requirements designated by contract using an agreed-to validation process. In this CLD partnership it means that alternative commercial practices, methods, and approaches to provide satisfactory evidence deserve consideration. A qualification approach better defines and scopes the needs, allowing for the CLD contractors to identify the costs and clearly define the schedule to meet these special customer requirements. Certification by NASA of these facilities on the other hand, demands documented evidence through a dedicated and pre-established US government developed program that desired safety results are consistently obtained. This approach also requires that NASA must put in place and staff ongoing certification bureaucracy to handle continuing changes and new space stations. What results is a process that creates delays and injects future costs. Creation of false market perceptions An unintended consequence of NASA’s assertion that it must certify commercial space facilities for safety is the implicit signal it sends to the broader marketplace: that facilities not certified by NASA may be inherently unsafe or substandard. This perception—however unintentional—can distort market dynamics by creating a false dichotomy between “NASA-certified” and “uncertified” platforms. This could lead to potential vendor favoritism and undermining the credibility of other capable commercial providers. It may also discourage non-government customers from engaging with these “uncertified” facilities and, perhaps most damaging, it can sow doubt among investors through heightened regulatory uncertainty or a perception of diminished commercial viability for platforms outside NASA’s certification umbrella. In a nascent and fragile commercial LEO ecosystem, such perceptions can stifle innovation, limit competition, and slow the emergence of a diverse and resilient US lead orbital economy. Creation of a gap in US orbital habitat capability With NASA planning to decommission the ISS around 2030, delays in certifying new CLD facilities could lead to a significant US space station capability gap—echoing the setbacks experienced during the Commercial Crew Program. Such a gap would not only disrupt NASA’s access to orbital platforms but also hand strategic advantage to international competitors, particularly China, whose growing space station capabilities could attract global partners and commercial customers, further consolidating their leadership in low Earth orbit. This concern was explicitly raised during a meeting earlier this year of the Aerospace Safety Advisory Panel, where members warned that CLD facilities might not be “human-rated” in time if NASA continues applying legacy certification processes. The root issue is that NASA has yet to define what “rating” a commercial space station for NASA use actually entails. Such schedule delays and added costs will undermine the key objective of the CLD program which is, “….to facilitate the development of commercially owned and operated LEO destination from which NASA, along with other customers, can purchase series and stimulate the growth of commercial activities in LEO.” If NASA is genuinely committed to partnership, it must move beyond the traditional model of top-down oversight. Rather than imposing legacy certification frameworks designed for government-owned systems, NASA should engage in collaborative dialogue with their commercial partners to create a qualification framework. This means clearly articulating safety and reliability expectations and working jointly to integrate any unique government requirements into facility service contracts—above and beyond the baseline standards of commercial station operations. This is not just a matter of policy—it’s a matter of trust, innovation, and a shared vision. A thriving commercial LEO economy depends on flexible, forward-looking governance that empowers private industry while safeguarding public interests. NASA’s role should be that of a strategic enabler, not a gatekeeper. Steve Hoeser is Senior Technical Advisor at the Beyond Earth Institute.

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Last Of The Dinosaurs: Admiral Nakhimov Sails Again With Satellite Eyes

warships September 2025 Airbus satellite image of the nuclear-powered battlecruiser Admiral Nakhimov. Originally launched in the 1980s, the ship spent nearly 30 years in mothballs but has recently been upgraded. (credit: Airbus) Last of the dinosaurs: Admiral Nakhimov sails again under satellite eyes by Dwayne A. Day Monday, September 29, 2025 Recently, a commercial imagery satellite photographed the Russian nuclear-powered battlecruiser Admiral Nakhimov at pierside after undertaking new sea trials. The satellite imagery provides new details about the ship’s modernization after a very long and expensive refit period. It reveals the large number of missiles that the ship is now equipped to fire, making it, by some measures, the most powerful surface warship in the world. The ship first came to the attention of Western intelligence agencies in satellite photos taken more than 40 years ago, but then it posed a greater threat than it does today. warships A 1984 HEXAGON reconnaissance satellite image of the Leningrad (now St. Petersburg) shipyard where the Kirovs were constructed. At left is the third Kirov under construction. The ship was eventually named Kalinin and in the 1990s was renamed Admiral Nakhimov. At right is the large communications ship Ural. (credit: courtesy of Harry Stranger) Spotting the monster In early 1974, American reconnaissance satellites spotted the first signs of a new major surface warship under construction at a Leningrad (now St. Petersburg) shipyard. Over the next several years they photographed the ship as it took shape, indicating that it would be the Soviet Union’s first nuclear-powered surface warship. The ship launched in late 1977, sliding down the ramp into the Neva River. It was the largest surface combatant in the world at that time, bigger than any American cruiser. High-resolution reconnaissance images showed that it had twenty large hatches on its bow covering what were obviously big missiles, and intelligence analysts determined that it was intended to attack American aircraft carriers. Other hatches concealed anti-aircraft missiles. The ship’s pagoda-like superstructure was covered with numerous radar and communications antennas. Eventually, the US intelligence community determined that the ship was named Kirov. (See “HEXAGON vs. Kirov: American satellite reconnaissance and the Soviet Union’s most powerful warship,” The Space Review, September 23, 2024.) Over the next several years, American satellites spotted the Kirov undergoing sea trials, staying within Soviet waters where it was safe from observation by the West’s aircraft and ships—although not American satellites. In 1980 Kirov finally sailed into the open sea and was tracked by NATO forces. Kirov soon became overloaded with weapons systems and its mission changed from submarine hunting to attacking American aircraft carriers. But at least one Soviet naval designer considered it to be absurd, too expensive, and too much ship for the mission. As Kirov was undergoing sea trials, American satellites spotted a second ship of the same class under construction in the Leningrad shipyard. In 1982, a secret intelligence report noted that this vessel was slightly different than the Kirov, lacking the twin-tube SS-N-14 missile launcher and the addition of a possible Udaloy-type surface-to-air missile system. This second ship also had a twin 130mm gun mount replacing two 100mm gun mounts positioned aft on Kirov. Upon launching, it was named Frunze. At that time no evidence of construction of a third Kirov was observed. The Soviet Union paused construction of new Kirovs to build an unusual nuclear-powered ship that was even larger than the battlecruisers. This ship was intended to intercept American satellite communications. It was launched in 1983. It was moored nearby the construction yard undergoing installation of its large satellite domes while work began on the third Kirov battlecruiser. In July 1984, the last successful HEXAGON reconnaissance satellite mission, number 1219, photographed the Leningrad shipyard. The satellite photo returned to Earth a few days later revealed the third Kirov under construction. It was nearly identical to the first two ships that had been launched in 1977 and 1980. Although this was not the first satellite image of the facility showing the new construction, it added to the growing body of evidence indicating that the Soviet Union was continuing to build these large warships after launching the large communications vessel Ural a year before. It was the Kirovs more than any other factor that led the U.S. Navy to reactivate its four Iowa-class battleships in the 1980s. By 1986, the official Department of Defense publication Soviet Military Power noted that the third Kirov was nearing completion and would likely launch in 1986, and that a fourth ship was under construction. When the third ship entered service in 1988, it was named Kalinin and it was assigned to the Northern Fleet. Eventually a fourth and final Kirov was launched. warships A 1984 HEXAGON reconnaissance satellite photo of the large shipyard in what is now illegally occupied Crimea where the Soviet Union built its aircraft carriers. The carrier/cruiser Baku is at left, still fitting out. The carrier under construction at right was eventually named Admiral Kuznetsov. Kuznetsov has been undergoing modernization for many years now and is likely to be scrapped. (credit: courtesy of Harry Stranger) The Nakhimov Building Some information about the development of the Kirovs has been published in Russian naval history books. One revelation was that the ship was originally intended to be an anti-submarine cruiser like its predecessor, the Kara class. However, it was nuclear-powered and, as the hull got bigger, various factions within the Soviet Navy argued for inclusion of their new weapons systems. Kirov soon became overloaded with weapons systems and its mission changed from submarine hunting to attacking American aircraft carriers. But at least one Soviet naval designer considered it to be absurd, too expensive, and too much ship for the mission. This assessment proved accurate, particularly with the collapse of the Soviet Union. The Kirovs required large crews and were costly to operate. All four ships were renamed after the dissolution of the USSR. Kirov suffered a nuclear reactor accident in 1990 and was pulled from service and in 1992 was renamed Admiral Ushakov. Frunze, renamed Admiral Lazarev, was pulled from service in 1994 and decommissioned four years later. Kalinin was renamed Admiral Nakhimov in 1992, but the ship was moored by 1997. Only the fourth ship, Pyotr Velikiy, remained operational. Starting in 2021, Admiral Lazarev was scrapped, and satellite photos showed the ship being cut up in a floating drydock. Admiral Ushakov is also supposed to be scrapped, but the reactor accident will make this difficult to accomplish. Admiral Nakhimov sat at dockside throughout the 2000s. In 2014, the Russian government announced that it was beginning modernization of the ship. Despite that, Nakhimov’s refurbishment took over a decade. It was put in drydock and some photos and videos were released showing the ship’s outdated weaponry and radars being stripped. But the pace of refurbishment was incredibly slow. In the US Navy, the derogatory term for a ship that spends too much time in port due to mechanical problems is a “building.” Ships are supposed to be at sea, not at dock. For nearly three decades, Nakhimov was a building. warships When originally built, Kalinin had twenty large hatches forward for anti-ship missiles. New satellite photos reveal that they have been replaced with ten eight-cell cruise missile launchers, for a total of eighty cruise missiles. (credit: Airbus) The dinosaur sails again It was not until early 2025 that the Russian government announced that the ship’s two nuclear reactors had been activated. In August 2025, Admiral Nakhimov was finally photographed heading into the White Sea on trials—the first time in 27 years. However, the ship did not appear to be under its own power but towed by tugs. It spent three weeks in the White Sea and then was towed back into port, possibly indicating that the propulsion system is not yet working. One of the ironies of the modern space age is that powerful tools that used to only be accessible to the American intelligence community are now available to anybody with a computer. Although several photos of Admiral Nakhimov were posted to social media in August, they all showed the ship from the side, which did not reveal any notable changes to the ship’s weapons systems. In the US Navy, the derogatory term for a ship that spends too much time in port due to mechanical problems is a “building.” For nearly three decades, Nakhimov was a building. In July 2024, a commercial satellite photo had shown the ship back in the water, but still incomplete. In September 2025, a commercial satellite photo of Admiral Nakhimov became publicly available. The satellite photo reveals that Admiral Nakhimov’s original 20 vertical launchers for P-700 (SS-N-19) Granit anti-ship cruise missiles have been replaced by ten eight-cell modules for 80 modern cruise missiles. Forward of these are 12 eight-cell rotary launchers housing 96 S-300FM (SA-N-20) surface-to-air missiles. Additional photos—via satellites, or those taken by Western maritime surveillance aircraft, or released by the Russian government—will be necessary to determine other changes to the vessel. The core of the modernization program was a plan to install no fewer than 176 vertical launch tubes. This would be more than any other surface combatant or submarine in the world. At least in terms of missiles, it would make Admiral Nakhimov the most powerful surface combatant at sea. However, photos cannot reveal if all those vertical launch tubes are loaded, or if the ship’s new electronic systems work properly. The sheer size of the vessel could be considered a weakness. Why spend so much money, and load so many weapons, onto a single vessel? As submariners like to say, there are two kinds of naval vessels: subs and targets. Admiral Nakhimov is a very big target. The Admiral Nakhimov spent forever undergoing refurbishment, but may not be the most notorious large Russian warship. The aircraft carrier Admiral Kuznetsov went into refurbishment in 2017. During the work, the carrier suffered multiple fires and a drydock sinking. By early 2021, analysis of photos of the carrier suggested that work on the vessel had more or less stopped in the previous 12 months. In February 2023, the Kuznetsov finally departed its drydock at the Sevmorput Naval Shipyard in Russia’s northwestern Murmansk region. Two months later there were reports that many members of the crew had been sent to fight in Ukraine. In summer 2025, a Russian newspaper reported that Kuznetsov was now likely to be scrapped. When—if—Admiral Nakhimov is declared fully operational, it is expected to eventually replace the only operational ship, Pyotr Velikiy, in the Northern Fleet. Pyotr Velikiy will probably be scrapped due to its high operating costs and its obsolete systems. warships warships warships warships warships The second Kirov-class ship was originally named Frunze and later renamed Admiral Lazarev and withdrawn from service in the 1990s. Between 2021 and 2024 the ship was scrapped, as seen in these GoogleEarth images. (credit: GoogleEarth via Temistocle) Dwayne Day can be reached at zirconic1@cox.net.

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