Against Misery: Moonshot Edition

By Charles C. W. Cooke

Wednesday, April 01, 2026

 

As a child, I was obsessed with the American space program, which, along with the country’s unparalleled collection of rollercoasters, was one of the many things that initially attracted me to the United States and convinced me that it was better than everywhere else. I can remember reading about the Apollo missions in awe, but also being shocked to learn that, by the time of the later excursions — Apollo 15, Apollo 16, and Apollo 17, in particular — the general public was no longer interested. This, frankly, astonished and annoyed me. Naturally, nothing was going to beat Apollo 11 in the popular imagination, and, for obvious reasons, Apollo 13 had its own grim televisual appeal. But these were manned missions to the moon! How could the whole world not have been transfixed during every single one?

 

The best case I could come up with was that, in 1971 and 1972, Apoll0 11 had been recent. Amazing, yes. But amazing a couple of years ago. Humans are impatient, complacent, and easily bored, and the moon landing was so 1960s. Oh look, Dick Cavett’s on!

 

But what, pray, is the excuse for indifference now? Today, from Cape Canaveral here in Florida, NASA is sending humans back to the moon. This time, they’ll “only” orbit it. A few missions hence, they’ll land on it. Such things are no longer recent. This will be the first time since the Nixon administration that a person has left low earth orbit. That’s more than half a century ago!

 

Does anyone care? I am fully aware that I cannot tell people what they should be interested in. But I find it remarkable that this is not the sole topic of discussion in America. The press is quiet on the matter. Not a single one of my casual acquaintances has mentioned it. Heck, my son’s baseball coach has scheduled a practice during the launch. It’s just not a big thing — at least not relative to other apparently crucial subjects for conversation, such as whether NBA players should be allowed to be Christians and whether a pretty standard midterm-year correction in the stock markets signals the end of the world. Are we crazy?

 

In the most recent issue of the magazine, I made a plea against misery:

 

It is, of course, virtuous for a free people to attempt to improve the country they inherited. But it is a grave mistake to believe that anything short of the establishment of heaven on earth represents failure. What we have in the United States right now — it’s not a matter of if or when or after or before, but right now — is a miracle. This country — as it is. This economy — as it is. This culture — as it is. This constitutional order — as it is.

 

After all, though “Americans have become convinced that, outside of their own enclaves, the United States is a hellscape,”

 

in the year of our Lord 2026, the United States is no such thing. In fact, it is the best place in the world by far. It has a durable constitutional order that, more than two centuries since it was ratified, continues to protect individual rights to an extent that remains unique in the West. It has the largest and most dynamic economy and the highest standard of living of any large nation. It has the most impressive higher-education sector; the best scientists, engineers, and doctors; and the lion’s share of the global technology industry. It boasts massive natural resources, including enough oil to remain energy-independent, vast tracts of arable land, and abundant fresh water. It has the most fearsome military, the world’s reserve currency, and the most important financial markets on earth.

 

And we’re going to the freaking moon!