Is It Time to Cancel Canada’s Human Spaceflight Program?

An Emblem of Ambition

The image of a Canadian in space is a potent symbol of national achievement. From Marc Garneau’s pioneering flight in 1984, becoming the first Canadian to breach the atmosphere, to Chris Hadfield’s command of the International Space Station (ISS), capturing the world’s imagination with a guitar and a view from orbit, the Canadian astronaut has occupied a celebrated place in the national consciousness. This legacy is set to continue with Jeremy Hansen’s assignment to the Artemis II mission, poised to become the first Canadian to journey around the Moon. These individuals and their missions evoke a powerful sense of pride, a feeling that Canada is a participant, a partner, in one of humanity’s most audacious endeavors. They represent a reach for the stars, an embodiment of technological prowess and adventurous spirit.

The public perception of the astronaut program is overwhelmingly positive, shaped by these high-visibility successes and the compelling personal stories of the astronauts themselves. This has created a deep emotional attachment, a patriotic connection that often insulates the program from the kind of rigorous, dispassionate cost-benefit analysis that is routinely applied to other major government initiatives. While other large-scale public expenditures in science and technology are intensely scrutinized for their tangible return on investment, the astronaut program has often been judged by a different, less quantifiable standard: its inspirational value.

This article seeks to look behind that veil of sentiment. It does not argue against the pursuit of space exploration itself, nor does it diminish the remarkable accomplishments of Canada’s astronauts. Instead, it offers a critical policy analysis, asking a fundamental question of strategy and prudence. In an era of pressing domestic needs, finite public funds, and the exponential advancement of robotic and autonomous technologies, is the continued maintenance of a human spaceflight program the most strategic, cost-effective, and beneficial investment for Canada’s future?

To answer this, it is necessary to move the discussion from one of sentiment to one of strategy. This analysis explores the transactional history of Canada’s astronaut corps, revealing its origins as a byproduct of the nation’s robotics expertise. It will present a transparent accounting of the program’s true and total costs, which extend far beyond astronaut salaries and flight tickets. It conducts a comparative analysis of the scientific returns from human-led missions versus Canada’s world-leading robotic and satellite programs. It examines the significant opportunity costs – the tangible, ground-based benefits that are forgone to fund a human presence in orbit. Finally, it will propose a more strategic path forward for the Canadian Space Agency (CSA), one that builds on proven strengths and delivers maximum value to all Canadians, not just the select few who get to fly.

A History of Bartered Seats: The Origins and Nature of Canada’s Astronaut Corps

The Canadian Astronaut Corps was not born from a standalone national ambition to send people into orbit. Its existence, from its very inception to the present day, has been a direct and recurring consequence of a transactional relationship with international partners, primarily the United States. Canada’s ticket to human spaceflight has consistently been paid for not with launch vehicles or independent missions, but with its world-class expertise in space robotics. The astronaut program is a bartered service – a return on investment for the nation’s technological contributions.

This foundational arrangement dates back to the 1970s. In 1974, NASA, preparing for its new Space Shuttle program, sought out Canadian expertise for the development of a sophisticated robotic arm. This project, which would become the famous Canadarm, marked the beginning of a close collaboration in human spaceflight. As a direct result of this important contribution, NASA extended an invitation for a Canadian to fly on a shuttle mission. This invitation was the catalyst for the creation of the first Canadian astronaut team in 1983, managed initially by the National Research Council of Canada. More than 4,000 people applied in that first recruitment campaign, from which six individuals, including Marc Garneau and Roberta Bondar, were selected. Garneau’s flight aboard STS-41-G in 1984 was the direct fulfillment of this barter.

This pattern of exchanging robotics for rider seats became the defining characteristic of Canada’s human spaceflight efforts. The most significant example is Canada’s role in the International Space Station. The nation’s contribution to this monumental project was not a habitable module or a power system, but the $1.3 billion Mobile Servicing System (MSS). This complex suite of robotics, featuring the next-generation Canadarm2 and the dexterous two-armed robot known as Dextre, was and remains critical for the assembly, maintenance, and operation of the entire station. This substantial technological and financial investment was the explicit price of admission for Canadian astronauts to live and work on the ISS.

The transactional nature of this relationship was starkly illustrated in 2012. Chris Hadfield’s celebrated mission to the ISS, culminating in his command of the station, marked the completion of NASA’s compensation to Canada for its MSS contribution. With the “bill” paid, there were no confirmed future flight opportunities for Canadian astronauts. The program faced an uncertain future until June 2015, when the Canadian government announced a renewed commitment to the ISS, effectively negotiating a new phase of the barter and securing flights for its remaining active astronauts.

Today, this same dynamic is playing out in humanity’s return to the Moon. Canada’s participation in the NASA-led Artemis program is anchored by its commitment to develop and contribute Canadarm3, a highly autonomous, AI-enabled robotic system for the future Lunar Gateway outpost. This multi-billion-dollar investment is the cornerstone of Canada’s new space strategy. In direct return for this contribution, Canada has secured two astronaut flights to the Moon: a seat for Jeremy Hansen on the Artemis II mission, the first crewed lunar flyby since the Apollo era, and a spot on a future mission to the lunar surface.

This history underscores a fundamental reality: Canada’s astronaut corps is a dependent program. Lacking any sovereign launch capability, Canada has always relied on partners to get its astronauts into space, hitching rides on American Space Shuttles, Russian Soyuz rockets, and, in the future, American commercial crew vehicles and the Orion spacecraft. This positions the Canadian astronaut program not as an independent national endeavor, but as a perpetually junior partnership. It is a program whose opportunities are contingent on Canada’s utility to the strategic goals of larger space powers. The following table provides a comprehensive overview of the astronauts recruited and the missions they have flown, illustrating the scale and output of this four-decade-long arrangement.

This transactional model, while successful in placing Canadians in orbit, creates a significant strategic vulnerability. It results in a path dependency where Canada’s space policy becomes inextricably linked to the priorities and roadmaps of its larger partners. To secure flight opportunities, a major political and public expectation, the CSA must continuously invest billions of dollars in large-scale robotics projects that service the needs of NASA’s human exploration architecture. This dynamic limits strategic flexibility. It raises the question of whether these massive investments would be better directed toward independent national objectives, such as a new generation of Earth observation satellites or a sovereign satellite communications network. Instead of being a strategic leader defining its own path, Canada’s role in human spaceflight is that of a highly skilled, but ultimately subordinate, technology provider – a pilot of the robotic arm, but a passenger on the larger strategic journey.

The True Cost of a Human Presence in Space

A clear-eyed assessment of Canada’s human spaceflight program requires a transparent and comprehensive accounting of its full financial footprint. The costs commonly associated with the program – astronaut salaries and the price of a launch – represent only the visible tip of a much larger financial iceberg. The true cost is embedded in massive, multi-billion-dollar capital projects and long-term operational commitments that are the necessary price of admission for a Canadian to fly.

The Canadian Space Agency’s overall budget provides the context for this expenditure. While it fluctuates annually due to special projects, the agency’s funding has been on an upward trajectory, driven largely by commitments to human exploration. For the 2022-23 fiscal year, the CSA spent just over $498.2 million. Planned spending is projected to reach a record $834 million in 2025-26, with the vast majority of that – $778 million – allocated to its core responsibility, “Canada in Space.” It is within this large envelope that the full costs of human spaceflight are found.

Direct Costs: The Tip of the Iceberg

The most straightforward costs are those directly tied to the astronauts themselves. Canadian astronaut salaries are modest in the context of the overall space budget, with a scale ranging from approximately $91,300 to $178,400 per year. Specialized training also carries direct costs, such as an $849,000 contract awarded to a Quebec firm to develop AI-powered training technology.

More significant are the per-seat flight costs. Since Canada does not have its own crewed spacecraft, it must purchase passage on foreign vehicles. In the later years of the Space Shuttle’s retirement, NASA paid Russia a reported $85 million to $90 million USD for a single seat on a Soyuz spacecraft to the ISS. With the advent of American commercial crew vehicles, the costs remain substantial. Estimates place the per-seat cost for NASA on a SpaceX Crew Dragon between $60 million and $67 million USD, and on a Boeing Starliner between $91 million and $99 million USD. These figures represent the direct ticket price for sending one Canadian to low Earth orbit.

Indirect and Enabling Costs: The Submerged Mass

The far greater expense of the human spaceflight program lies in the indirect and enabling costs – the massive technological contributions Canada must make to secure those seats in the first place. These are not optional investments; they are the non-negotiable price of participation.

The International Space Station represents the first major long-term commitment. From the beginning of the program through 2017, Canada’s total contribution in development and operating costs for the ISS amounted to approximately $2.2 billion. In the early 2000s, the annual cost to Canada was around $60 million. This figure covers the ongoing operations of the Mobile Servicing System (Canadarm2 and Dextre) and Canada’s share of the station’s common operating costs. To secure flight opportunities through 2024, the government allocated an additional $379 million in its 2016 budget. These hundreds of millions of dollars are the prerequisite for having Canadian astronauts on the station’s crew roster.

The next generation of human spaceflight demands an even greater financial commitment. The investments tied to the Lunar Gateway and the Artemis program are staggering. In 2019, the government announced a $2.05 billion investment over 24 years for Canada’s space program, with the development of Canadarm3 as the centerpiece. The initial design phase contract for this new robotic arm alone was valued at $268.9 million. More recently, the government committed an additional $1.2 billion over 13 years to develop a lunar utility vehicle to assist astronauts on the Moon’s surface. These multi-billion-dollar expenditures are explicitly linked to securing the Artemis II seat for Jeremy Hansen and a future lunar landing for another Canadian.

The budgetary structure of the CSA effectively obscures this reality. There is no single, transparent line item labeled “Human Spaceflight Program.” Instead, the costs are distributed across large capital projects like “Canadarm3” and operational lines like “International Space Station Operations.” While these are indeed world-class robotics and science programs, their primary negotiated return, as stated in official agreements, is astronaut flight opportunities. A significant portion of the Canadarm3 budget is not merely an investment in robotics; it is the bartered payment for a ride to the Moon. By re-aggregating these direct, indirect, and enabling costs, it becomes clear that Canada’s human spaceflight ambitions constitute a multi-billion-dollar enterprise that consumes a disproportionate share of the nation’s space budget. This lack of clear financial reporting prevents a necessary public and political debate about the program’s true value relative to its immense and ongoing cost.

The Scientific Ledger: Human Subjects vs. Robotic Observers

A core justification for the expense and risk of human spaceflight is its scientific return. Proponents argue that the presence of astronauts in orbit enables unique research that cannot be conducted by robots alone. An examination of Canada’s scientific portfolio in space reveals a stark contrast between the science enabled by its astronauts and the transformative discoveries delivered by its unmanned systems. This comparison raises critical questions about the value and efficiency of the science being conducted by Canadians in orbit.

The Human-Centric Science Portfolio

The scientific experiments performed by Canadian astronauts aboard the International Space Station are overwhelmingly focused on a single subject: the human body. The portfolio is dominated by space life sciences, a field dedicated to studying and mitigating the detrimental effects that the space environment has on astronauts. Experiments like CARDIOBREATH, Vascular Aging, and Space Health use Canadian-developed technologies like the Bio-Monitor smart shirt to track how microgravity and radiation affect cardiovascular health, blood pressure regulation, and arterial stiffness.

This research has yielded interesting findings with potential applications on Earth. The physiological changes astronauts experience in space – such as bone density loss, muscle atrophy, and cardiovascular deconditioning – serve as a model for accelerated aging. The CSA has collaborated with the Canadian Institutes for Health Research’s Institute of Aging to pool knowledge from these studies, hoping to find solutions for conditions like osteoporosis and to develop better health protocols for elderly or bedridden patients. For example, the VASCULAR study found that astronauts returning from six months on the ISS had arterial stiffness equivalent to aging 10-20 years on Earth, providing insights into the limitations of certain exercise regimes for sedentary populations.

A Critical Assessment of Scientific Return

While these terrestrial benefits are valuable, they invite a critical assessment of the overall scientific return on investment. A significant portion of human spaceflight science is inherently circular: it is dedicated to solving the health problems that are only created by the decision to send humans into space in the first place. This research is essential if long-duration missions to the Moon and Mars are a given, but it does not, on its own, justify the continuation of those missions.

Furthermore, the role of the astronaut in these experiments is often that of a highly trained “lab technician.” They execute protocols and operate equipment designed by scientists on the ground, who then receive the data for analysis. While human dexterity and problem-solving are still valuable, the increasing sophistication of automation and robotics suggests that many of these tasks could be performed without a human present. One recent study of NASA-sponsored research did find that papers and patents stemming from ISS experiments receive significantly more citations than comparable Earth-based work by the same researchers, suggesting a high impact. for a country like Canada with a limited budget, the question remains whether the specific, human-centric experiments it conducts justify the enormous cost of placing the human subject in orbit.

The Unmanned Powerhouse

This scientific record stands in sharp contrast to the unambiguous, high-impact, and globally significant returns from Canada’s unmanned space programs. In these areas, Canada is not just a participant; it is a world leader, generating unique data and capabilities that drive global science forward.

The RADARSAT program is the preeminent example. Since the launch of RADARSAT-1 in 1995, Canada has been a leader in space-based Synthetic Aperture Radar (SAR), which can image the Earth’s surface day or night, through clouds and smoke. This capability has produced revolutionary scientific breakthroughs. RADARSAT-1 was used to create the first-ever high-resolution map of the entirety of Antarctica, providing critical baseline data for glaciologists studying climate change. The RADARSAT Constellation Mission (RCM) continues this legacy, providing essential data for monitoring sea ice in the Arctic, managing responses to natural disasters like floods and wildfires, and ensuring Canadian sovereignty over its vast territory. The government’s commitment of over $1 billion for the next phase, RADARSAT+, underscores the immense and ongoing value of this data to Canadian science, security, and economic life.

Beyond Earth orbit, Canada’s technological contributions to international astronomy and planetary science missions have delivered exceptional scientific value without sending a single astronaut. Canada provided the Fine Guidance Sensor and the Near-Infrared Imager and Slitless Spectrograph (FGS/NIRISS) for the James Webb Space Telescope, the most powerful space observatory ever built. This critical contribution guarantees Canadian astronomers a share of observing time, placing them at the forefront of modern astrophysics. Similarly, Canada’s contribution of the OSIRIS-REx Laser Altimeter (OLA) was essential for the successful navigation of the OSIRIS-REx spacecraft to the asteroid Bennu and the collection of a pristine sample that is now being studied by scientists, including a team in Canada.

This comparison reveals a fundamental strategic divergence. In human spaceflight science, Canada operates largely as a “passenger” or a user of the ISS laboratory, a facility managed by an international consortium. The science, while valuable, is part of a shared agenda. In contrast, its robotic and satellite programs represent genuine Canadian leadership and scientific autonomy. The world comes to Canada for RADARSAT data. Canadian instruments on JWST provide a unique capability. This distinction is critical: human spaceflight allows Canada to participate in science, while its unmanned programs make it an indispensable scientific leader.

The Opportunity Cost: A Grounded Perspective

Perhaps the most compelling case against prioritizing human spaceflight for Canada is not found in an analysis of what the program costs, but in a clear-eyed assessment of what those funds could otherwise achieve. Every dollar directed toward the multi-billion-dollar enterprise of securing a seat for an astronaut is a dollar not invested in other national priorities, both in space and on the ground. This opportunity cost – the value of the next-best alternative forgone – is immense, and it directly impacts the lives and prospects of millions of Canadians.

Alternative Path 1: Closing the Digital Divide

A persistent challenge for a country as vast as Canada is ensuring equitable access to essential services. In the 21st century, high-speed internet is an essential service, critical for education, healthcare, economic participation, and social connection. Yet, a significant digital divide persists. As of 2022, nearly 7% of Canadian households still lacked access to broadband internet speeds of 50 megabits per second (Mbps) for downloads and 10 Mbps for uploads. This figure masks a much deeper disparity; in rural communities, only 62% of households had access to these speeds. For hundreds of thousands of families, particularly in remote and Indigenous communities, the digital economy remains out of reach.

The federal government has recognized this as a critical national issue, committing billions of dollars to connect all Canadians by 2030. A key part of the solution is satellite internet. The government has made massive investments to support this technology, including a $1.44 billion investment and a subsequent $2.14 billion loan to Telesat for its Lightspeed low-Earth-orbit satellite constellation. These programs aim to bring reliable, high-speed connectivity to the country’s most underserved regions.

This is where the opportunity cost of human spaceflight becomes starkly apparent. The fully loaded cost of sending a single Canadian astronaut on a six-month mission to the ISS, or the multi-billion-dollar down payment for a trip around the Moon, represents a massive pool of capital. If redirected, these funds could dramatically accelerate the goal of universal connectivity. The following table provides a direct comparison, translating the abstract cost of a space mission into a tangible, nation-building outcome.

Alternative Path 2: Dominating the New Space Economy

Beyond addressing immediate domestic needs, redirecting human spaceflight funds could also position Canada to dominate the next era of the space economy. Canada already possesses a robust and innovative space sector. In 2022, it contributed $3.2 billion to the national GDP and supported over 25,000 high-quality jobs. The vast majority of this economic activity – nearly $4 billion out of $5 billion in total revenues – comes from the “downstream” segment, which includes satellite operations and the development of products and applications that use space-based data. This is the commercial heart of the Canadian space economy.

A strategic pivot would involve redirecting the massive, long-term capital investments required for human exploration – like the $2.05 billion for the lunar program and Canadarm3 – into programs that directly fuel this economic engine. Initiatives like the Space Technology Development Program (STDP) and the smartEarth initiative provide funding to Canadian companies, particularly small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs), to develop innovative technologies in areas of national strength: advanced robotics, AI, satellite communications, and Earth observation applications.

This approach would generate a more significant and widely distributed economic return. Instead of concentrating resources on a program that culminates in a flight for one or two individuals, the investment would be spread across hundreds of innovative companies from coast to coast. This would foster a more resilient and dynamic industrial base, create thousands more jobs, and allow Canada to capture a larger share of the global space market, which is projected to more than triple to over $1 trillion by 2040.

This choice represents a fundamental divergence in philosophy. The focus on human spaceflight reflects a legacy “Old Space” mentality, where national prestige is paramount and exploration is led by massive, slow-moving government programs. A strategic pivot to funding satellite communications, Earth observation, and commercial technology development would align Canada with the more agile, commercially driven “New Space” economy. This is where the most significant economic growth and societal benefits are projected to occur. The opportunity cost of human spaceflight is not just the other projects that go unfunded; it’s the risk of failing to fully embrace this paradigm shift, potentially leaving Canada’s economy behind as the new space race accelerates.

Rethinking National Inspiration: Beyond the Astronaut

A primary and enduring justification for the high cost of a human spaceflight program is its unparalleled power to inspire. The image of a Canadian astronaut floating against the backdrop of Earth is presented as a powerful tool to ignite national pride and encourage young people to pursue careers in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM). While the inspirational effect of figures like Chris Hadfield is undeniable, a closer examination reveals that this model of inspiration is both inefficient and potentially counterproductive, and that more effective alternatives are readily available.

The Limits of Astronaut Inspiration

The “astronaut as STEM role model” argument rests on the idea that presenting the pinnacle of achievement will motivate widespread interest. this assumption is flawed. Research into STEM engagement suggests that for many students, particularly those who do not already have a high level of scientific literacy or support at home, the image of the astronaut as a super-achiever can be more intimidating than inspiring. It can reinforce a “not for me” attitude, framing space science as something reserved for the exceptionally brilliant, rather than an accessible and viable career path. This perceived difficulty can create a barrier to entry, discouraging the very students who need the most encouragement.

Furthermore, relying on a handful of high-profile individuals is a fragile and remarkably inefficient strategy for national inspiration. Canada has conducted only four astronaut recruitment campaigns since 1983, selecting a total of 14 people. The investment required to produce a single astronaut role model – encompassing the multi-billion-dollar enabling technologies, the multi-million-dollar seat cost, and years of training – is astronomical. It is a valid policy question whether this represents the most effective use of public funds allocated for the purpose of STEM outreach.

A Universe of Alternative Role Models

A more effective and inclusive strategy for national inspiration would shift the focus from the few who fly to the thousands on the ground who make flight possible. Canada’s true space legacy is built not by its astronauts, but by the vast, diverse teams of scientists, engineers, software developers, and technicians who designed and built the Canadarm, who operate the RADARSAT constellation, and who created the sophisticated instruments for the James Webb Space Telescope. These individuals represent a spectrum of accessible, relatable, and achievable career paths within the space sector. Celebrating their collective achievement provides a much broader and more realistic set of role models for young Canadians.

Canada already has a vibrant ecosystem of highly effective, scalable, and cost-efficient STEM outreach programs that do not rely on astronauts. Organizations like Actua and Let’s Talk Science reach hundreds of thousands of students across the country every year with hands-on, engaging science programming. These organizations partner with universities, community groups, and industry to deliver workshops, summer camps, and classroom resources that make STEM accessible and exciting. The federal government, through various departments and agencies, already supports these and many other initiatives designed to build a national culture of science and innovation.

The cost-effectiveness of these ground-based programs is orders of magnitude greater than the astronaut-centric model. For example, a proposal for a $45 million investment in Actua over five years projected that the program would reach 3.4 million youth and could help as many as 90,000 of them pursue STEM careers, generating hundreds of millions in new GDP growth. This figure, less than the cost of a single fully-loaded astronaut mission to the ISS, demonstrates a far superior return on the “inspiration” investment.

Over-reliance on the astronaut as the primary symbol of Canada’s space program also creates a misleading public narrative. It obscures the nation’s genuine, world-leading strengths in uncrewed systems and risks creating a brain drain by setting an unrealistic career goal. By focusing the national story on the handful of astronauts, we fail to celebrate and build public support for the thousands of jobs that form the real economic engine of the Canadian space sector. This creates a critical mismatch in workforce development. We inspire children to become astronauts – a job for which Canada recruits only two to four people per decade – instead of inspiring them to become the robotics engineers, data scientists, and software developers that the Canadian space industry actually needs to hire. This can lead to highly qualified personnel, their ambitions fired by the dream of spaceflight, looking abroad for opportunities that Canada, with its niche program, cannot provide.

A Strategic Repositioning: A Future Focused on Autonomous Systems

The evidence presents a clear and compelling case for a fundamental re-evaluation of Canada’s space priorities. While the human spaceflight program has provided moments of national pride, a dispassionate analysis of its immense costs, its limited and often circular scientific returns, and the vast opportunity costs it entails reveals it to be a suboptimal investment for the nation’s future. The time has come for a deliberate, strategic pivot away from the pursuit of bartered seats on foreign spacecraft and toward a confident doubling-down on Canada’s proven areas of global excellence: autonomous systems, space robotics, and satellite-based data services.

This repositioning should not be framed as a retreat from space. On the contrary, it is a forward-looking strategy to ensure Canada leads in the domains that will define the 21st-century space economy. The vision is for Canada to become the undisputed global leader in the technologies where it already holds a significant competitive advantage. This includes the next generation of AI-driven space robotics, building on the legacy of Canadarm; the development and operation of advanced Earth-observation satellite constellations like RADARSAT; and the pioneering of space-derived data applications and space medicine technologies that deliver tangible benefits to people on Earth.

This focused approach offers demonstrably superior returns across every key metric. Economically, it would foster a robust domestic ecosystem of innovative SMEs, create thousands of sustainable, high-quality jobs, and empower Canadian industry to capture a larger share of the trillion-dollar global space economy. Scientifically, it would enable Canada to lead its own discovery missions, contribute unique, high-value instruments to international partnerships, and generate sovereign data, thereby maximizing scientific impact and influence. Socially, it would deliver direct and widespread benefits to Canadians through improved climate monitoring, more effective disaster management, enhanced national security and sovereignty, and the closure of the digital divide for remote communities.

A pivot away from human spaceflight would also grant Canada greater strategic autonomy. The current model leaves Canada’s flagship space initiatives vulnerable to the shifting political winds and budgetary priorities of its larger partners. An investment of billions in Canadarm3 for the Lunar Gateway, for instance, is contingent on the United States’ continued commitment to that specific architecture. By focusing on more independent robotic and satellite missions, or by diversifying its partnerships with other agencies like the European Space Agency and the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency, Canada can pursue a more agile and resilient national space strategy, one that is defined by Canadian needs and priorities, not by the price of a seat. The following table synthesizes the return on investment across Canada’s major space program areas, illustrating the clear strategic advantage of its unmanned initiatives.

Summary

The Canadian astronaut program, for all its symbolic power, represents a strategic path that is no longer optimal for the nation. It began as a barter – robotics for rides – and has continued in that vein, making Canada a technological contributor but a strategic passenger in the grand scheme of human exploration. A thorough analysis reveals that this path is exceedingly expensive, with its true multi-billion-dollar cost obscured within the budgets of large-scale robotics projects that serve as the price of admission.

The scientific returns from this investment, while not without merit, are narrow, focused primarily on studying the challenges of human spaceflight itself. These returns are dwarfed by the transformative, world-leading scientific and societal benefits delivered by Canada’s unmanned programs, such as the RADARSAT constellation, which provides critical data for climate science, disaster response, and national sovereignty.

The program also carries an immense opportunity cost. The resources dedicated to securing a handful of flight opportunities could be redirected to solve pressing national challenges, such as closing the digital divide for hundreds of thousands of Canadians in remote communities. Alternatively, these funds could be invested to accelerate growth in Canada’s commercial space sector, generating far more jobs and economic benefit across the country. Finally, the long-held belief in the astronaut as a unique source of inspiration is questionable; it is a costly and potentially inefficient model compared to scalable, ground-based STEM outreach programs that can inspire millions of young Canadians to pursue a wider, more realistic range of careers in science and technology.

The logical conclusion is that Canada should undertake a strategic repositioning of its space program. This involves phasing out the costly pursuit of human spaceflight and redirecting those substantial resources to solidify its global leadership in the areas that offer the greatest scientific, economic, and social returns: autonomous robotics, artificial intelligence, and satellite-based Earth observation. Such a move would not be a retreat from ambition, but a confident stride toward a smarter, more strategic, and more beneficial future in space – a future grounded in Canada’s proven strengths and focused on delivering tangible value to all its citizens.