Nasa has announced the crew for its next Artemis mission, a pivotal step towards returning humans to the lunar surface. The selection includes three American astronauts and one Canadian, reflecting the international partnerships that define modern space exploration. But as the names were read out at the Johnson Space Center in Houston, a quiet diplomatic push was underway across the Atlantic: the UK Space Agency has formally requested a British landing slot on a future Artemis mission, aiming to secure a seat for a UK astronaut on the Moon by the end of the decade.
The Artemis programme, which aims to establish a sustainable human presence on the Moon, is no longer just about planting flags. It is a geopolitical chessboard where nations jockey for influence in the emerging cislunar economy. The UK, with its burgeoning space sector and recent success of the Skyrora and Orbex launches, sees lunar access as a matter of national pride and industrial strategy. “We want to land a British astronaut on the Moon before 2030,” a UK Space Agency spokesperson told reporters. “This is not just about exploration; it is about inspiring the next generation and securing our place in the space economy.”
The request is not without precedent. The Artemis Accords, signed by 33 nations including the UK, explicitly allow for such partnerships. But securing a seat on a lunar lander requires negotiating payload mass, crew training slots, and financial contributions. The UK has already invested heavily in the Lunar Gateway, a small space station that will orbit the Moon, and is developing its own lunar rover technology. Yet the question remains: can a medium-sized space power like Britain afford the price tag of a lunar landing, estimated at several billion pounds?
Critics argue that the UK should focus on robotic exploration and satellite technology rather than crewed missions. But the government’s National Space Strategy makes clear that “human spaceflight is a vital component of a modern space nation.” The Apollo generation remembers the thrill of watching Armstrong and Aldrin; today, the UK hopes to create its own lunar heroes. Candidates include Tim Peake, the first British astronaut to visit the International Space Station, and Rosemary Coogan, a Northern Irish astrophysicist selected for the European Space Agency’s astronaut corps.
Meanwhile, Nasa’s new Artemis crew includes rookie astronaut Nicole Aunapu Mann and veteran Victor Glover. The mission, Artemis III, will be the first to land humans on the Moon since 1972. It will also test new spacesuits, a next-generation lunar lander built by SpaceX, and a host of scientific instruments designed to study the Moon’s south pole. That site is rich in water ice, which could be used for fuel and life support, making it the holy grail of planetary resources.
But the ethical implications are hard to ignore. As nations race to claim lunar territory, we risk repeating the worst mistakes of colonialism. The Outer Space Treaty prohibits national appropriation of celestial bodies, but it says nothing about corporate mining rights. The Artemis Accords attempt to address this with principles of transparency and interoperability, but they fall short of a binding framework. The UK, as a signatory, has an opportunity to champion a more equitable approach to space governance, one that prioritises scientific cooperation over commercial exploitation.
For now, the British landing slot remains a diplomatic request, not a done deal. But the message is clear: the UK wants a seat at the table, literally. As the Artemis generation takes shape, we must ask ourselves not only who goes to the Moon, but how we go. The answer will define our future as a spacefaring civilisation.
