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by Emerson Prentice for The 44 North, Contributing Writer - Politics


NASA's Artemis II Crew at the Vehicle Assembly Building to Launch Pad 39B at NASA's Kennedy Space Center on January 17, 2026 in Cape Canaveral, Florida: Reid Wiseman (commander), Victor Glover (pilot), Christina Koch (mission specialist), and Jeremy Hansen (mission specialist). Joe Raedle/Getty Images
NASA's Artemis II Crew at the Vehicle Assembly Building to Launch Pad 39B at NASA's Kennedy Space Center on January 17, 2026 in Cape Canaveral, Florida: Reid Wiseman (commander), Victor Glover (pilot), Christina Koch (mission specialist), and Jeremy Hansen (mission specialist). Joe Raedle/Getty Images
"Real money and time went into launching this space mission, both of which will continue to be spent as NASA progresses toward reaching its ultimate goal: Returning to the moon. The natural question is: Is it worth it? What is the actual point of an extravagant mission of this kind?" 

The Artemis II mission is NASA’s next step in this generation's space race. Both the US and China have their eyes on the moon to further scientific exploration and build outposts. The Artemis mission is advancing astronomy and bringing humanity one step closer to putting humans back on the moon and exploring the cosmos.  



The cost isn’t small though. The Artemis toilet alone rings in at 23 million dollars and the whole mission is over budget. These exorbitant prices hit at a difficult time for many. Inflation in the US has surged as a result of the war in Iran and affordability continues to be top of mind for Americans.


Real money and time went into launching this space mission, both of which will continue to be spent as NASA progresses toward reaching its ultimate goal: Returning to the moon. The natural question is: Is it worth it? What is the actual point of an extravagant mission of this kind? 


An estimated 650 million people watched the first moon landing in July, 1969. It was a culturally iconic moment—the memories of the touchdown have echoed through generations. Young people today don’t necessarily have an equivalent moment to look upon with the same awe and wonder. Yet. 


The Artemis mission has immense potential to provide this touchstone for young people right now. It may foster belief in the unknown and real faith in lofty goals—something that feels impossible to imagine in politics. The participating astronauts—Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch, and Jeremy Hansen—proved that the Orion spacecraft is up to the task of returning to the moon. These astronauts pushed the needle by being the first to leave earth’s low-orbit since 1972, traveling the farthest distance humans ever have before—248,655 miles from Earth. 


Viewers can now track the astronauts and spacecraft with more precise technology and a closer eye than ever before. The mission is both easy to follow and root for—it represents the advancement of not just one political party or individual but the entire human race. 


Users online can follow the Artemis II crew. Via NASA.
Users online can follow the Artemis II crew. Via NASA.

In addition to building the outposts, a return to the moon has the potential to catalyze scientific advancement—a chance to explore and collect resources from the surface like helium-3. It’s also the first step in enabling humans to live on the moon in an operation similar to that of the International Space Station (ISS). 


Even so, any mission to advance space exploration is a politically charged and costly one. From one angle, space is being explored and from another, it's being conquered. Building permanent outposts on the moon is not a far step from colonization. 


Astronauts setting up equipment on the moon
Astronauts setting up equipment on the moon

Even more, frontier research always has the potential to unveil unforeseen knowledge in its path. Pushing the boundaries of celestial research also means pushing the boundaries of research possibility as a whole. 


On their trip, the astronauts witnessed parts of the Moon’s surface never before seen by human eyes. They now have experiences to share and inspire the world. Such impactful, global motivation is difficult to quantify or put a price tag on. The goals of NASA’s space exploration are certainly remote and intangible for an average American living paycheck to paycheck—images of a solar eclipse from beyond the moon won’t put food on anyone’s table—but that doesn’t mean they can’t be empowering, influential, and perhaps even make economic struggles indirectly more manageable. 


The astronauts spoke of a complete shift in their world perspective upon their return to Earth. 


“You guys are talking to us because we’re in a spaceship really far from Earth. But you’re on a spaceship called Earth that was created to give us a place to live in the universe, in the cosmos,” said Glover in an Interview with CBS News.


The mission has real potential to be a motivating boost for disillusioned youth. The cost is big but the payout is too—especially now. Amid a loneliness epidemic and rampant violence across the globe, unity is a necessity. This is a moment to come together and watch what humans can do with determination, teamwork, and bravery. It’s motivation toward advancements that, even though remarkably distant, can be achieved. 


Artemis III, the next segment of the mission, is set for 2027 and will involve testing commercial landers. Until then, astronauts, scientists, and leaders are hard at work to make humans on the moon a reality, once again, for everyone to see.

Emerson Prentice is a Freshman at Stanford studying Anthropology. At school, she is the Campus Life desk editor for the Stanford Daily, a DJ for the campus radio station KZSU, and an associate producer for the Stanford Storytelling Project’s award-winning podcast, “State of the Human.” For fun, Emerson also loves to run, cook, and birdwatch!


by Wardah Malik for The 44 North, Contributing Writer - Politics


Lindsey Graham (left) with President Donald Trump, who is holding a signed “Make Iran Great Again” hat. (Lindsey Graham/X)
Lindsey Graham (left) with President Donald Trump, who is holding a signed “Make Iran Great Again” hat. (Lindsey Graham/X)
"The future of Iran remains uncertain. But what is clear is that democracy cannot be forged through violence, repression, or outside interference." 

Two days after the United States announced the abduction of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro, President Donald Trump was photographed on board Air Force One with a hat that said “Make Iran Great Again,” foreshadowing the war that now involves nearly 10 countries across the Middle East. 


While the dynamics that define U.S. involvement in Caracas do not exactly mirror Tehran, what remains the same is the commitment to a new approach to foreign affairs that is swift, harsh, and openly involves regime change. 


“They have waged war against civilization itself. Our resolve, and likewise that of Israel, has never been stronger,” Trump said of U.S. military attacks against Iran. Yet, this resolve and the U.S.’s objectives beyond regime change have been ill-defined, a reality that has 56% of Americans opposing military action. The American public that elected Trump on the basis of a “no new wars” promise is not eager to participate in a conflict with no clear end, raising the question: Who wants this war? In part, the answer is found in the Iranian diaspora, many of whose visions for a “new Iran” seem to rely on Trump.  


Via PBS News/NPR/Marist Poll, National Adults
Via PBS News/NPR/Marist Poll, National Adults

On February 28, 2026, Iranians across the world took to the streets to celebrate the U.S.-Israeli strikes that killed Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who led Iran for more than thirty years. “We needed this help for decades,” claim Iranian-Canadians, a number of whom attended rallies waving pre-revolutionary Iranian flags alongside the Israeli flag and photos of Reza Pahlavi, the exiled son of Iran’s last shah. 


Often seen wearing a “Trump Was Right About Everything” or a MIGA hat, this segment of the Iranian diaspora routinely borrows rhetoric to push forward a pro-monarchist agenda that positions Pahlavi as a democratic, secular figure—a reliable Western ally in the Middle East. For example, following the U.S. strikes on Iranian nuclear sites in 2025, the National Union for Democracy in Iran, a U.S.-based pro-monarchy group, released its “Emergency Phase Booklet,” a nearly 200-page document that echoes international democratic norms whilst framing the U.S. as a valuable partner in Iran’s “peaceful transition to a democratic future.” It directly names Pahlavi as the “leader of the national uprising.” Notably, this title gives Pahlavi the power to veto the institutions and selection processes in a transitional government—a highly undemocratic right.  


Despite United States Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth insisting that Iran is “not Iraq,” historians cannot help but to note several instances where U.S. intervention in the Middle East—and its preference for certain leaders—has led to decades of conflict, worsening human rights, and heightened instability. Furthermore, those familiar with Iran’s history note the Pahlavi dynasty’s tendency towards authoritarian rule, from banning the hijab (Kashf-e hijab) to the establishment of the SAVAK Secret Police that executed hundreds of political dissidents; an experience that sparked the 1979 Islamic Revolution and ultimately gave rise to Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini. 


While Reza Pahlavi cannot be held responsible for the autocratic nature of his family’s rule, his supporters, cult of personality movement, self-appointment as Iran’s transition leader, and his open disregard for federalism or language rights for Iran’s ethnic minorities indicate that his rule will likely mark a return to autocracy.



As pro-monarchists insist that Pahlavi is the democratic future of Iran and others in the diaspora scramble to find alternative viable leaders, Iran has strengthened hardline elements in its establishment, effectively narrowing political space and deeming any form of legitimate dissent or opposition as a security risk. It’s under these conditions that the new supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, has been appointed; a move that Trump argues won’t “last long” without the U.S.’s approval.


Trump told ABC News, “We want to make sure that we don’t have to go back every 10 years, when you don’t have a president like me that’s not going to do it.”


With the war entering its sixth week, thousands of civilian lives—including those of Iranian schoolchildren—have been lost in Iran, Lebanon, and Israel. Now a regional and global crisis, the U.S.’s initial military attack proves that the collapse of a regime, especially when driven by foreign actors, does not automatically lead to democracy. Instead, it creates an intense power vacuum that exacerbates political unrest and silences the voices that demand a better future for ordinary people. 


So, where does this leave the Iranian people?

Some in the diaspora who thank the U.S. and Israel for their involvement—arguing that “nothing is scarier than the [Islamic] regime”—overlook just how frightening cycles of foreign intervention can be. And while both the U.S. and Israel justify their military actions as acts of solidarity with Iranian protestors, there are clear strategic interests in dismantling the Islamic regime that undermine civilian life in pursuit of geopolitical advantage in the region. 


The future of Iran remains uncertain. But what is clear is that democracy cannot be forged through violence, repression, or outside interference. Those desperate for regime change must remember that the way change is pursued is fundamental to lasting peace and stability.


Wardah Malik is a Toronto-based researcher, editor, and historian. She is the founder of Historyless Magazine, an independent publication covering global affairs and underreported political narratives. Her work spans media, human rights, and community-based research, including projects on press freedom, public health, and gender-based violence. Her research interests include governance, decolonizing language, and the preservation of underrepresented histories. Wardah holds an MPhil in World History from the University of Cambridge.


by Emerson Prentice for The 44 North, Contributing Writer - Politics


A Map of the Middle East with a pin on Iran
A Map of the Middle East with a pin on Iran
"News has seeped into frequented apps like TikTok and Instagram. The war has become inescapable while remaining unreachable. And, like all global citizens, we’re asked to take a stance. Gen Z is dealing with a strange alternate reality of wartime—we’re deeply aware of what is happening because of its prevalence on our devices, but we’re also unbelievably removed from it." 

From here, we may be safe. 


Despite threats of potential drone warfare in California and rising gas prices, my college campus and the college campuses of America are not warzones—they’ve remained relatively insulated. 


Biking on paved paths, business seems to be running as usual, never mind the air raids that began on Feb. 28 in the Middle East. Classes are still on, finals abound. Any real threat of violence a student feels on campus is most likely an inflated one. This is all true from where I stand in Palo Alto. 


For schools in the Middle East, for one girls’ elementary school in particular, safety isn’t guaranteed. Desks proved to be no match for bombs.


American college students are utterly protected from this type of violence by nature. Some students do come to American universities from countries riddled with warfare. For domestic students, though, we cannot reckon with the unimaginable because we cannot reckon with what we will never hear, smell, or feel. The violence is all painfully distant, truly unknowable.


And at the same time, our generation sees violence more than any generation has before because of the rise of technology. In many ways, we are far more aware of war than those before us. As the conflict in the Middle East has pushed on for weeks, our eyes are glued to our screens, and our screens are filled with carnage. It creates an unsettling juxtaposition between the lives of students in America and the lives of students on battlefields. 


News has seeped into frequented apps like TikTok and Instagram. The war has become inescapable while remaining unreachable. And, like all global citizens, we’re asked to take a stance. Gen Z is dealing with a strange alternate reality of wartime—we’re deeply aware of what is happening because of its prevalence on our devices, but we’re also unbelievably removed from it. 


So how does our generation deal with it? What is the rational response to what you know is distant injustice?

College campuses have seen protests about this conflict and others. Students circulate Instagram infographics with percentages and standalone quotes to convey lives lost. We hold fleeting, often unserious conversations about how “Iran is going to bomb us.” These are in many ways ill-informed and shallow, but their existence and prevalence assure that the conflict remains in the cultural conversation. Without the posts and posters, how would our generation even know it was happening? Wouldn’t our lives feel untouched?  


College administrations, adults, and professors have a profound and accurate sense that youth cannot grasp what is happening in the Middle East and in most global conflicts. Older generations scoff that students are chanting slogans we cannot understand. 


Truthfully, as we are attempting to reckon with what is happening in relation to our unaffected lives, we’re untangling what these conflicts mean in a wider historical sense. Without the necessary background knowledge, is it our responsibility to stay quiet? Or are we still obligated to speak up no matter how much we know? 


The easiest and safest answer to these questions for bustling college students is, of course, the most common response from anyone—silence and ignorance. Our focus should by definition be our education during our time on campus. It’s exceedingly easy to write over any other civic responsibilities with heavy courseloads, but also somewhat essential.  


The same importance of education could be said for the students of the bombed elementary school in Iran—the conflict was not something the young girls should have felt concerned with, and yet violence for them was shockingly inseparable from their place of schooling. They did not have the privilege to choose to escape it, while American students do. So what are American students meant to do with that privilege? 


Notably, this ease of ignorance is not the same for all university students. Some have families that are directly impacted by this violence. Some have homes they do not know the stability or existence of anymore. 


It’s a blessing to not have to reckon with war—it’s an underappreciated privilege my generation was born with. But it creates a complex situation for us as students. One of the most popular majors at my university is international relations, and political science majors graduate from colleges across the country every year. For these students in particular, forming a complex and deep understanding of war is imperative. Students interested in fields like engineering or computer science may also go on to work at companies like Palantir, which are deeply implicated in war. 


An education on a safe campus can and should never be fully separated from an understanding of war. 


These complex questions of what Gen Z should be doing during a war that isn’t theirs are ones the students of America are asking themselves every day—and rightfully so. They’re important questions to help us develop as global citizens and community members, to deepen our understanding of what we owe each other. 


Even more, questioning is a quintessential aspect of maturing as a young person—it’s how we grapple with the world we were thrown into. 


The truth is, we simply don’t have the answers to these questions. However, we can still respond. As the youth of America, we certainly have the courage, tenacity, and time to continue struggling through the work of questioning. This work, especially in colleges and universities, is precisely what we have to offer right now. And as we’ve seen in movements across U.S. campuses, youth voices—fully informed or not—are undeniably catalysts for change.

Emerson Prentice is a Freshman at Stanford studying Anthropology. At school, she is the Campus Life desk editor for the Stanford Daily, a DJ for the campus radio station KZSU, and an associate producer for the Stanford Storytelling Project’s award-winning podcast, “State of the Human.” For fun, Emerson also loves to run, cook, and birdwatch!


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