Artemis II’s Moon fly-by: How NASA’s scientific nerve centre obscures colonial legacies and extractive space governance

Indigenous lunar cosmologies universally reject the Artemis programme’s extractive framing, viewing the Moon as a sacred, living entity deserving of protection rather than mining. The Navajo Nation, for instance, has long opposed NASA’s Apollo missions due to their desecration of lunar sites, a stance that remains unaddressed in Artemis narratives. Western scientific paradigms frame the Moon as a 'resource' for human use, erasing millennia of Indigenous knowledge systems that treat celestial bodies as kin. This dimension scores low (0.2) because the original framing actively suppresses these perspectives in favour of a colonial, technocratic worldview.

The Artemis programme is a direct descendant of Cold War space militarisation, where the U.S. and USSR raced to assert dominance over extraterrestrial territory—a legacy now repackaged as 'scientific exploration.' Historical parallels abound in terrestrial colonialism, where 'scientific expeditions' justified land theft and resource extraction under the guise of progress. The 1967 Outer Space Treaty, while nominally prohibiting national appropriation, has failed to prevent corporate and state-led exploitation, mirroring 19th-century treaties that displaced Indigenous peoples while claiming 'discovery.' This dimension scores moderately (0.6) due to the superficial acknowledgment of historical context in space law, but its erasure in mainstream narratives.

Cross-culturally, the Moon is a symbol of cyclical time, feminine energy, and spiritual connection—from the Māori *Maramatanga* (lunar calendar) to the Islamic *Hilal* (new moon) and Hindu *Chandra* (deity of the Moon). African traditions, such as the Dogon people’s knowledge of Sirius, demonstrate deep astronomical wisdom that predates Western astronomy by millennia. In contrast, Western space programmes frame the Moon as a 'frontier' for human domination, ignoring these epistemologies. This dimension scores highly (0.8) because the original framing could integrate these perspectives to challenge its extractive paradigm.

Scientifically, Artemis II’s mission is framed as a validation of human spaceflight capabilities, but it obscures the lack of consensus on lunar resource extraction’s ecological and ethical risks. Studies on lunar regolith toxicity and the irreversible impacts of mining on potential microbial ecosystems are sidelined in favour of technological spectacle. The mission’s scientific goals (e.g., studying solar wind, lunar geology) are valuable, but the framing prioritises PR over peer-reviewed rigor. This dimension scores moderately (0.7) because while science is central, the narrative is skewed toward boosterism rather than critical inquiry.

Artistically and spiritually, the Moon has inspired countless works that reject its commodification—from Van Gogh’s *Starry Night* to Māori *whakapapa* (genealogical connections) linking humans to celestial bodies. The Artemis narrative’s focus on 'heroic' astronauts erases the Moon’s role in global mythologies as a symbol of mystery, femininity, and interconnectedness. Indigenous artists like the Māori *tohunga* (priests) or Navajo weavers have long depicted the Moon as a living force, a perspective absent in Western space discourse. This dimension scores low (0.3) because the original framing reduces the Moon to a backdrop for human achievement rather than a sacred entity.

Future modelling of Artemis II must account for the geopolitical risks of lunar militarisation, where resource competition could escalate into conflict—echoing terrestrial water wars or Arctic territorial disputes. Scenario planning should include Indigenous-led governance models, such as the Māori *kaitiakitanga* (guardianship) framework, to prevent extractive outcomes. The mission’s long-term implications include the commercialisation of the Moon’s south pole (rich in water ice), which could trigger a 'space gold rush' with no regulatory safeguards. This dimension scores highly (0.9) because the narrative’s lack of future-oriented analysis is a critical omission.

Marginalised voices—particularly from the Global South, Indigenous communities, and women in STEM—are entirely absent from the Artemis II narrative, despite their disproportionate exposure to terrestrial extractive violence. Women scientists and engineers, who face systemic barriers in space programmes, are reduced to background figures in the 'nerve centre' metaphor. The framing also ignores the voices of nations excluded from the Artemis Accords, such as China and Russia, whose lunar ambitions are framed as 'threats' rather than legitimate aspirations. This dimension scores very low (0.1) because the narrative actively excludes these perspectives to centre a narrow, elite vision of space exploration.