On Thursday, at 00:35 am South African time, I watched Artemis II launch from the Kennedy Space Centre. Growing up, like many others, I flirted at some point or another with the possibility of being an astronaut. Whilst that dream didn’t last (perhaps owing to my inability to do maths, which is a fairly strong requirement as an astronaut), my fascination with space never ended. The last time humans travelled to the Moon was in 1972, before any of the crew of Artemis II were born. What differs now, other than the obvious, is that this forms part of a long-term, global strategy that – just like any other person or institute – must convince the world that this is a good idea.
It’s tempting to see NASA’s Artemis II mission as purely a feat of engineering, a technical milestone that allows humans to see the dark side of the Moon for the first time. But upon closer inspection, Artemis II serves as a reminder that some of the world’s most ambitious projects succeed not just because of scientific capability, but because of narrative discipline, coalition-building, and strategic messaging.
The Cold War’s space race was a two-player game: one against the other, both willing to sacrifice human life in the name of flags and footprints. That strategy has shifted significantly over the last 50 years. This time, the United States has pursued a strategy of cooperation, most clearly seen in the Artemis Accords, first introduced in 2020 and now signed by 61 countries. The Artemis Accords set forth an agreement that space must be used “for peaceful purpose,” that the benefits of space exploration are “for all humankind,” and that exploration must operate within a framework of collaboration.
There is nothing incidental about this framing. The language of collaboration shapes regulatory norms, builds legitimacy, and establishes leadership in decisions that will influence the future of space resources, technology, and geopolitical influence. While the financial cost of returning humans to the Moon is significant, the programme has been broadly regarded as worthwhile. Its value is measured not only in scientific advancement but in its strategic influence, partnerships, and technological ecosystems it helps to shape.
It positions the United States as the pilot of space exploration, which, even if not actively engaged in a space race, has always been the goal.
NASA has invited the outside in, and in doing so, it has created a kind of human camaraderie more often seen at sporting events or national celebrations than in geopolitical competition. Rather than forcing a race, NASA has positioned itself as the natural coordinator of humanity’s next frontier.
Perhaps the greatest ambassadors of this strategy are the astronauts themselves. Overwhelmingly human yet technically exceptional, their authenticity is what makes this strategy work because it is entirely real.
Christina Koch captured this perfectly when she said,
“We will explore. We will build ships. We will visit again. We will construct science outposts. We will drive rovers, we will do radio astronomy, we will found companies. We will bolster industry, we will inspire.
But ultimately, we will always choose Earth. We will always choose each other”.
It is difficult to imagine a more effective articulation of soft power. The message is not dominance, nor is it one of competition. It is a message of stewardship and collaboration. Through narrative discipline, coalition-building, and symbolic leadership, NASA has made the United States the default convenor of humanity’s next chapter in space exploration, with global partners willingly signing on.
For those of us working in strategic communication, Artemis II is a compelling reminder that influence is rarely asserted directly. It is constructed patiently, through legitimacy, credibility, and shared purpose. Even in space, leadership is not simply claimed; it is communicated into being.
– Erin Dodo
Account Executive