When I was a kid the brilliant Space 1999 was in its pomp. This was in the mid-1970s. As a family, we’d recently moved back from America, but the Moon landings were still fresh enough in the mind to believe that, by the year 2000, space colonies would be everywhere. I figured I should run the biggest, most important one (naturally), so decided that Commander of the future Moon base would be a good career choice. So far, things haven’t worked out, though if any of you can get to the Imax3D movie Magnificent Desolation: Walking on the Moon, you absolutely have to do it. When I was working on the Science of Spying at London’s Science Museum, I was able to go loads of times, and never once got tired of it (occasionally I’d see Space Station 3D instead, but it’s just not the same).

The Science of Spying

I also expected to be a writer. I’ve still kept my early notebooks and must digitize them so I can put a couple of stories online and you can see the early inspiration for Johnny Mackintosh. Then, I did kind of expect to be a footballer at some point. I was captain of the school team and we were pretty successful, so to an 11 year old it seemed a small step up to become a professional.

Sometimes my ambitions were a little more down to Earth and I thought about going into politics. I was going to be the leader of the first world government, bringing peace to mankind and unifying our efforts to colonize space. During my teenage years I heard about the PPE (Politics, Philosophy and Economics) course at Oxford University and decided that would be a fun thing to study (in fact it’s exactly what the current British Prime Minister, David Cameron, and many of his peers, did), but as I approached the sixth form I began to get sidetracked.

I do remember my English teacher taking me aside after one lesson imploring me to study English literature at ‘A’ Level, but despite my love of writing, by this point I’d been bitten by the beauty of mathematics and physics. It’s a great mystery why the universe seems to run along mathematical lines, but we should be grateful it does. Hence I went to Cambridge University to study mathematics (with physics). You can read a little of how that turned out in a career interview I recently gave Plus Magazine.

The great thing is, that you never grow out of growing up. People say “40 is the new 30″ and the world (and beyond) still seems full of possibilities. It was only three years ago that I applied to ESA to become an astronaut and, as we enter another year, I’d encourage everyone to dream great dreams and do your best to turn them into realities. I don’t know what I want to be doing in, say, 20 years’ time, except that I’ll always have a notebook with me and be writing something.

Eugene Cernan: last man to stand (or drive) on the Moon (photo Harrison Schmitt, NASA)

Earlier this year was the glorious fortieth anniversary of the first Moon landing. Today marks the rather more ignominious occasion of humans (I could still simply write “Man”) leaving the Moon for the last time. On this day in 1972, Apollo 17’s Eugene Cernan and Harrison “Jack” Schmitt lifted off from the Mare Serenitatis and the first chapter of the Space Age ended, leaving the rest of the book unwritten.

It was claimed that, reaching the Moon was somehow an end in itself and that, less than four years on, the public had become as bored of the whole incredible affair as the politicians. In the many years since, all we’ve done is send a few robot explorers into the solar system and some people into low Earth orbit, most recently to the International Space Station (ISS). Anyone who thinks the ISS is a long way away should realize the Moon is a thousand times further – it seems almost as out of reach today as when President Kennedy made his famous speech in 1961.

Of course it’s right to scoff at the witless lunatics who disbelieve the whole glorious adventure. Even now, mirrors left behind by the crew of Apollo 11 can be used by anyone around the world with the right equipment to bounce lasers back and forth to measure the distance between us with great precision. Yet it was such a stand out achievement that you can almost understand why some, who weren’t alive at the time, are a little incredulous. The pace of technological advance appears so tremendous, yet we’re unable to repeat what we achieved all those decades ago.

At least now a return is being mooted, even if driven by a second space race. The West is being overtaken as the world’s economic powerhouse and there’s no better national symbol to prove it than to send a new generation of humanity a step further out and plant a new flag on another world. And the West is responding by dusting off plans and also looking to go back – I suspect (and hope) we’ll all end up pooling resources and journeying together.

the Moon combined with background stars (double exposure, NASA)

If we’re to survive as a species then one thing is certain – we need to colonize space. Failure to do so, simply keeping all our eggs in this one basket here on Earth, means we’ll one day be wiped out. It might happen next year (let’s hope not!) or it might take a few thousand years, but the simple rules of probability, coupled with the global catastrophic risks, make it certain. While I’m sad I won’t see it myself, I long for a day of human colonies around the galaxy, embassies on alien worlds, spaceships with mixed human and alien crews exploring together and witnessing sights we can’t even begin to dream of. I’ve always loved the words of my hero, Carl Sagan, who said:

“The surface of the Earth is the shore of the cosmic ocean. From it, we have learned most of what we know. Recently, we have waded a little out to sea, enough to dampen out toes or, at most, wet our ankles. The water seems inviting. The ocean calls. Some part of our being knows this is from where we came. We long to return.”

It’s thirty-seven years since we left the Moon – I hope it doesn’t take us so long again to return and that, when we do, we don’t stop but instead use our handily placed satellite as a stepping stone to begin our great journey to the stars.

Last night, the Science Museum held one of its “Lates” sessions, a rather more official way of seeing the museum than my earlier nocturnal wanderings. And I noted, with disappointment, that this time, the route to the Apollo 10 capsule was barred. But it was good to see signed copies of Johnny Mackintosh  beside Harry Potter in the museum bookshop.

However, while most of the crowds were there to see the Japan Car exhibition, I’d gone along on another of my moon missions – to view the high-definition videos from SELENE, one of Japan’s satellites in lunar orbit.

In mythology, Selene is the name of the Greek equivalent of Luna and was a daughter of two Titans. Nowadays, the spacecraft is more often called Kaguya, the name chosen by the Japanese public after a beautiful lunar princess in a Japanese folk story (who rejects countless marriage proposals here on Earth before returning to her original home on the Moon). SELENE stands for SELenological and ENgineering Explorer

Although images from the satellite are high-definition and give a better view of overflying the Moon than we’ve had before, they were projected onto the screen in the Science Museum’s small theatre rather than its giant Imax, and were at the limits of magnification with some pixilation setting in, so still came across as pretty low-resolution. But it’s always a wonderful thing to see Earthrise.

It’s well worth taking a look at the dedicated youtube channel. Sadly, I’m not allowed embed the videos into this blog to give you a taster. The accompanying copy read “the closest you can get to flying over the moon”, but I’d argue that, for the very best Moon experience, you really have to see the Imax film Magnificent Desolation: Walking on the Moon 3D. Now that, genuinely, is just like being there…

All the space images are copyright Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA)