In a move that has left this correspondent reaching for his emergency hipflask, Nasa has announced the crew for its next Artemis Moon mission, and predictably, the British Space Agency has been spotted loitering at the back of the spaceport, hat in hand, hoping for a lift. The chosen four: Commander Reid Wiseman, Pilot Victor Glover, Mission Specialist Christina Koch, and Canadian Jeremy Hansen. A perfectly respectable lineup, unless you are a patriotic British taxpayer wondering why our brave lads and lasses are not among them.
Fear not, for the UK Space Agency has issued a statement, a press release so achingly hopeful it could have been written by a children's TV presenter who has just discovered the moon is not actually made of cheese. They are 'in discussions' with Nasa about securing a British seat. 'Discussions' is Whitehall-speak for 'we are sending strongly worded emails and crossing our fingers.
' The moon, that celestial ball of cheese and glory, is apparently still off the menu for Blighty. One pictures the meeting: a Nasa official, sunglasses indoors, leans back in his chair and says, 'Look, we'll see what we can do, but maybe ask again after you've fixed your potholes.' The absurdity is almost too much.
We have a Space Agency. We have a Space Command. We have a government that solemnly intones about Global Britain.
And yet, when the rockets fire, we are not on them. Instead, we are 'in discussions.' The word 'Artemis' is Greek for 'hitchhiker.
' No, it isn't, but it should be. The chosen few will orbit the moon, gaze upon its grey magnificence, and return to ticker-tape parades. We will watch from our sofas, munching crisps, as our taxes fund a space programme that appears to have forgotten the best part of the British Empire: the bit where we actually go places.
The UK Space Agency assures us that a British astronaut is 'a matter of when, not if.' When the rent is due? When the sun burns out?
When Brexit finally delivers on its promise of a sovereign space programme? The irony is delicious. We left Europe to 'take back control,' and now we are begging for a seat at America's table.
The Special Relationship, it seems, is a one-way ticket. So raise a glass to Reid, Victor, Christina, and Jeremy. May they find cheese on the moon.
The rest of us will be here, in discussions.
