Why We Didn't Colonize the Moon Before Mars

The Moon is 384,000 kilometers away. Mars is 225 million. Nevertheless, we are talking about colonizing Mars.

This is not a lyrical introduction. These are figures. And this is exactly where any conversation about space expansion should begin, because when the data is so obvious and the conclusions drawn from it are so non-obvious, it means there is a hidden variable in the equation that we are not accounting for.

The Moon is the closest large body to Earth. The distance to it averages about 384,000 kilometers. Light traverses it in approximately 1.3 seconds. This means communication with a lunar base would be practically in real-time. A flight to the Moon takes about three days. Emergency evacuation is theoretically possible within the same timeframe. A flight to Mars, depending on the orbital window, takes six to nine months. The return takes just as long. Emergency evacuation from Mars is not a safety protocol; it is a subject for philosophical discussion.

Nevertheless, Mars has become the symbol of humanity's future expansion. It is the subject of books, films, and business plans. The Moon is hardly mentioned in this context – except perhaps as a «midway stop.» Why did it turn out this way? The answer is multilayered, and each layer is telling in its own way.

Technical Advantages of Lunar Colonization Over Mars

Technically, the Moon is simpler. Much simpler.

Let's start with physics. Delivering one kilogram of cargo to the lunar surface requires significantly less fuel than delivering that same kilogram to Mars. Lunar gravity is about 16% of Earth's – compared to 38% for Mars. It sounds counterintuitive: lower gravity should simplify landing and takeoff. But it's not just about the landing – it's about getting there at all. Mars requires a fundamentally different scale of mission.

The signal delay to the Moon is 1.3 seconds. To Mars, it's 3 to 22 minutes one way, depending on the relative positions of the planets. In practice, this means managing a Martian base from Earth in real-time is physically impossible. Any off-nominal situation must be resolved on-site, autonomously. For a lunar base, this constraint does not exist.

There is water on the Moon – specifically, water ice in permanently shadowed craters near the poles. This has been confirmed by data from several missions, including the LCROSS probe in 2009. Water is not just for drinking. It is oxygen for breathing and hydrogen for fuel. The presence of water in an accessible location radically changes the logistics of any long-term base. There is water on Mars too – predominantly as ice beneath the surface or in polar caps. But extracting it is technically more difficult, and the conditions for working on the surface are significantly harsher.

A lunar day lasts about 29 Earth days. This is a problem for solar power – two weeks of light, two weeks of darkness. But it is solvable: there are zones of near-constant illumination at the poles, so-called «peaks of eternal light.» There, solar panels would work almost continuously. Mars is slightly more convenient in this regard – its day is close to Earth's (24 hours and 37 minutes). However, the distance from the Sun makes solar energy less efficient: the intensity of solar radiation on Mars is approximately two and a half times lower than on Earth.

If you add it all up: the Moon is closer, communication is better, delivery is cheaper, evacuation is possible, water is accessible, and energy is solvable. From a purely engineering standpoint, a lunar base is a significantly simpler task than a Martian one. And yet.

Historical and Political Reasons for Postponing Lunar Bases

Why the Moon Wasn't the First Step

This is where it gets interesting. The technical advantages of the Moon have been known for a long time. The first serious concepts for permanent lunar bases appeared as early as the 1950s – long before humans ever flew there. After the Apollo program concluded in 1972, it seemed the logical next step would be establishing a permanent base on the Moon. It didn't happen.

There are several reasons, and they are quite mundane.

The first is financial. The Apollo program, adjusted for modern currency, cost approximately 150–180 billion euros. It was an investment motivated primarily by the geopolitical competition of the Cold War era. When the competition ended and the political context changed, funding was slashed. A permanent lunar base is not a one-off flight. It is an infrastructure project spanning decades, with constant operational costs. Such a project requires political will that remains stable longer than a single electoral cycle. Historically, this is a rarity.

The second reason is the scientific agenda. After several successful Apollo expeditions, the Moon ceased to be a priority from a scientific perspective. The basic questions about its geology and composition were largely settled. Mars, by contrast, remained a Terra incognita – literally an unknown land. Potential traces of past life, a complex atmosphere, a geologically active history. The scientific community logically reoriented its interest.

The third – and perhaps most important – is the narrative. The Moon had already been conquered. It became part of the past – grand, but finished. Mars was the future. And in this distinction lies not technology or economics – it lies psychology. Human interest and, consequently, funding, follow the narrative, not the logic. One could call this a flaw. One could call it a trait. The data does not change based on what you call it.

Cultural Perception and the Narrative of Martian Exploration

Mars as an Idea

Mars has occupied a special place in European and global culture long before the start of the space age. Back in the late 19th century, Giovanni Schiaparelli described «canals» on its surface, which triggered a wave of speculation about a Martian civilization. H.G. Wells wrote «The War of the Worlds» in 1898. Since then, Mars has been firmly associated in the public consciousness with «other life», with «where we are going», with the horizon.

The Moon, in this sense, lost the narrative battle before it even began. It is too close. It is too visible to the naked eye. It became a symbol of romance, poetry, and the night sky – but not of humanity's future. When humans landed on it in 1969, it was perceived as the end of an era, not the beginning.

Mars, however, maintains its distance – both literally and metaphorically. It is far enough away to remain a projection. It is convenient to project dreams, ambitions, and anxieties about Earth's future onto it. The Moon is unsuited for this: it is too close to serve as a metaphor for salvation.

This is not a critique. It is an observation. Narrative is a powerful engine. Without it, there would be no Apollo, nor the current Martian programs. But narrative also has a knack for distorting priorities. And in this case, it appears to be doing exactly that.

The Strategic Return to Lunar Infrastructure Projects

What Has Changed in Recent Years

If you look at the current picture, something interesting has occurred: the Moon is returning to the agenda – but no longer as a poetic image, but as a logistical hub.

The Artemis program, implemented by NASA alongside international partners, aims to return humans to the Moon and establish a sustainable presence on its surface. Simultaneously, several private companies are developing lunar landers and resource extraction technologies. The China National Space Administration has announced plans to create a lunar base in collaboration with Roscosmos – though the timelines for these plans are traditionally optimistic.

Interest in the Moon today has a pragmatic basis. Lunar ice at the poles is viewed as a source of fuel for future deep-space missions – including those to Mars. In this logic, the Moon becomes not the destination, but a gas station. This is technically sound: launching a mission from lunar orbit is significantly cheaper than from Earth's surface due to the lower gravity.

Thus, after decades of neglect, the Moon is returning – but in a different role. Not as a symbol of space conquest, but as infrastructure. Pragmatic. Void of unnecessary narratives. This is perhaps why it is working this time.

Engineering Challenges and Feasibility of Mars Colonization

Mars: Is It Even Realistic?

Here, one must stop and look at the numbers without the romance.

A crewed Martian mission is, by current estimates, a project costing anywhere from tens to hundreds of billions of euros, depending on the architecture. Travel time is about 7–9 months one way. The surface of Mars is covered in perchlorates – chemical compounds toxic to humans if inhaled or ingested. The radiation level on the surface is approximately 700 times higher than on Earth, given the lack of a protective atmosphere and magnetic field. Atmospheric pressure is about 0.6% of Earth's – essentially a vacuum for a human.

This does not mean that colonizing Mars is impossible. It means it requires solving a series of engineering challenges, each of which is a multi-year project in itself: radiation protection, air and water production, construction of airtight habitats, growing food in closed systems, and the psychological stability of a crew during multi-year isolation.

For comparison: a lunar base requires solving the same tasks, but in significantly milder conditions and with the possibility of emergency return. If you view this as a sequence of steps – Moon first, then Mars – the logic is impeccable. This is why more engineers and agencies today speak of the Moon as a necessary intermediate stage.

Economic Viability and Commercial Potential of Moon vs Mars

The Economics of the Matter

Beyond technical factors, there are economic ones. The Moon is within commercial reach right now – not in some distant future. Several private companies have successfully, or nearly successfully, landed craft on the lunar surface in recent years. The cost of delivery to the Moon is falling as competition grows and rocket technology improves.

Mining Helium-3 on the Moon – an element theoretically suitable for fusion energy – has been discussed as a long-term commercial prospect for decades. Until fusion energy becomes a commercial reality, this argument remains speculative. But lunar ice as a source of rocket fuel is already a much more concrete story. If the economic viability of fuel production on the Moon can be proven, it will change the entire logic of solar system exploration.

Mars, in commercial terms, remains an exclusively expense-heavy line item. No obvious resource exists that could be delivered from Mars to Earth at a profit – distance makes transportation unprofitable under any reasonable scenario. A Martian colony, if it appears, will be a self-sufficient necessity, not a commercial enterprise. At least, for the foreseeable future.

Summary of Lunar and Martian Exploration Priorities

A Conclusion That Requires No Embellishment

We did not colonize the Moon before Mars for several reasons that are best listed without rhetoric.

• After Apollo, the political will to fund a lunar base vanished along with the geopolitical context that birthed it.
• The Moon ceased to be a scientific priority after the first expeditions.
• Mars won the narrative competition long before real technical capabilities to fly there existed.
• Private capital interest, and consequently real investment, followed the public narrative for a long time rather than logistical logic.

What is changing now: the Moon is returning to the agenda as an infrastructure object – an intermediate base, a fuel source, a testing ground for technologies that will be required on Mars. This is a pragmatic pivot, and it is approximately thirty years late.

Mars remains the goal – for those planning on a horizon of several decades. Technically, it is feasible. Financially, it is currently on the edge. Logistically, it is only possible via the Moon, which is now acknowledged by most serious industry players.

The data pointed to this order of operations from the very beginning. The narrative simply took a different route for a while.

It is not, however, the first time humanity has chosen the longer path along a more scenic road. And, by all appearances, it won't be the last.