Look up tonight. Go on, find a window. What do you see? A giant, glowing rock. A dead rock. A silent, grey witness that has watched humanity crawl out of the slime and start building skyscrapers. For eons, the Moon has been the definition of desolate. A place where nothing grows, nothing breathes, and nothing lives.
But what if that was about to change? What if the lifeless grey was about to get a splash of green?
Back in 2013, a story broke that sounded like pure science fiction. It wasn’t a movie script. It wasn’t a fever dream. It was a NASA directive. The plan? To put life where life has no business being. To grow a garden on the Moon.
The Project That Time Forgot
Let’s rewind. The year is 2013. The internet is buzzing with a leaked timeline from a small, scrappy team inside the space agency known as the “Lunar Plant Growth Habitat.” Their goal was audacious. Crazy, even. They wanted to attempt to grow plants on our planet’s pale white satellite. And they weren’t talking about fifty years in the future. They were talking about a launch in 2015.
Obviously, if you look at your calendar, you’ll notice 2015 has come and gone. We don’t have lunar forests yet. But the story of why they tried, and what happened to this technology, is a rabbit hole worth jumping down. It reveals the terrifying reality of space travel that most astronauts are too polite to talk about in press conferences.
The chosen vegetation for this suicide mission? Arabidopsis (rockcress), basil, sunflowers, and turnips. Sounds like a weird salad, right? It isn’t random. Every single one of those plants was picked for a specific, survivalist reason. We’ll get to that. But first, the tech.
Coffee Cans of Life
They weren’t planning to build a glass dome. Too heavy. Too fragile. One micrometeoroid hitting a glass dome and—poof—your salad is freeze-dried instantly. Instead, the engineers went rugged. Low-tech looking, but high-tech functioning.
The plants were designed to grow inside coffee-can-size aluminum cylinders. Think about that. A soda can against the vacuum of space. These cylinders were engineered to be self-contained biospheres. They would regulate their own temperature, manage water intake, and handle their own power supply.
The Moon is not a friendly place. It swings from boiling hot to freezing cold. It’s bathed in radiation. And there is no air. These aluminum cans had to be fortresses. They had to endure the hard lunar climate while keeping a fragile little sprout alive inside.
The mission, a collaboration of NASA scientists, students, contractors, and volunteers, was set to blast off on a commercial lander. This was the dawn of the “New Space” era, where private companies and public sectors started chipping in together. It was supposed to be the “iPhone moment” for space agriculture. Cheap, fast, and revolutionary.
The “Why” Is Terrifying
Why do this? Why spend millions to grow a turnip 238,900 miles away?
The point of this exercise is to further understand the biology, agriculture, and life of other worlds. But read between the lines. This isn’t just about curiosity. It’s about insurance.
If we can’t grow food off-Earth, we can’t leave Earth. Period. If humanity is ever going to have a “Plan B,” we need to know if biology can function when stripped of the magnetic field that protects us here.
Dr. Robert Bowman, the project’s biologist, put it simply: “Simply knowing how plants deal with stress on the moon can really tell us a lot about how they deal with stress right here on Earth.”
He’s talking about genetic expression. When you torture a plant with cosmic rays and low gravity, does it mutate? Does it die? Or does it turn into something else? NASA plans on sending participating schools their own habitats as a control. This was meant to be a massive crowdsourcing effort. Kids in classrooms growing the same basil as the robot on the Moon, comparing data. A million little scientists checking if their space-basil turned purple or withered away.
The Four Horsemen of the Lunar Garden
Let’s look at the lineup again. Why these four plants? This is where the conspiracy theorists and the biologists start nodding at each other.
- Arabidopsis (Rockcress): The lab rat of the plant world. We have mapped its entire genome. If a single gene changes because of moon radiation, we will know instantly. It is the canary in the coal mine.
- Basil: This isn’t for pesto. It’s for the mind. Basil has a distinct smell. In isolation experiments, astronauts have reported that the smell of fresh plants prevents them from going insane. It’s a psychological anchor to Earth.
- Turnips: Calories. Dense, fast-growing calories. If you are stranded in a lunar bunker, you aren’t eating rockcress. You are eating turnips. This was the test for “subsistence farming” on a dead world.
- Sunflowers: This is the fascinating one. Sunflowers are known hyper-accumulators. They suck toxins out of the soil. They were used in Chernobyl and Fukushima to pull radioactive isotopes out of the ground. Why send them to the Moon? Maybe to see if they can filter radiation? Or maybe… to see if they can clean the lunar soil itself?
The Invisible Enemy: Regolith
Most people think the Moon is covered in sand. It’s not. It’s covered in regolith.
Sand on Earth has been tumbled by the ocean and wind for millions of years. It’s round. It’s smooth. Lunar regolith has never been tumbled. It is jagged, microscopic shards of glass. It shreds lungs. It destroys seals on space suits. And it absolutely murders plant roots.
If you plant a seed directly in Moon dirt, the dirt attacks the seed. It rips the cellular walls apart. That is why the coffee-can idea was so smart. It bypassed the soil problem entirely by using hydroponics or brought-from-Earth gel. It was a way to cheat the system.
The “Lost” Timeline
So, the mission was set for 2015. It didn’t launch. Why?
Budget cuts? Maybe. Technical failures? Possible. Or perhaps the private sector landers weren’t ready. The Moon Express lander and the Google Lunar X Prize competitors faced massive delays. The “Uber for the Moon” didn’t show up on time.
But the data didn’t disappear. The dream didn’t die; it just went into cryosleep. In addition to learning about other worlds, researchers hope the data will teach us how to grow crops in harsher climates here on Earth. With climate change ramping up, understanding how to farm in a hellscape is becoming very relevant, very fast.
“The first picture of a plant growing on another world—that picture will live forever,” added Dr. Pete Worden, Director of NASA’s Ames Research Center. He knew the power of the image. It’s a flag planting, but better. A flag says “we were here.” A plant says “we are staying.”
The China Connection
Here is where the story gets a modern update. While NASA’s coffee cans sat on a shelf, someone else took the baton. China.
In 2019, the Chang’e 4 lander touched down on the dark side of the Moon. It carried a small canister. Inside? Cotton seeds. And guess what? It sprouted. For a brief, shining moment, there was a living cotton plant on the far side of the Moon. It died quickly when the lunar night set in and the temperature dropped to -170 degrees Celsius, but it happened.
NASA’s concept was right. The coffee can worked. They just got beat to the punch. But the race isn’t over. With the Artemis missions gearing up to put boots back on the grey dust, the idea of the Lunar Plant Growth Habitat is back on the table. This time, it won’t be a coffee can. It will be a greenhouse.
What If It Works?
Imagine the future. Not the shiny Star Trek future, but the gritty, realistic one. Massive underground lava tubes on the Moon, sealed off and pressurized. Rows and rows of UV lights. And under them? Fields of turnips and sunflowers.
It changes everything. If we can grow food there, we don’t have to ship it. The cost of a Mars mission drops by billions. The Moon becomes a gas station and a grocery store. It stops being a destination and starts being a gateway.
But it also raises the stakes. If we bring life to the Moon, do we contaminate it? Are we messing with a pristine environment? These are the questions that keep bio-ethicists up at night. But for the engineers, the goal is simple: Keep the green thing alive.
The Final Verdict
This 2013 project was a glimpse into a future that is still struggling to be born. It showed us that the barrier isn’t just rockets. It’s biology. It’s convincing a seed that evolved on a warm, wet, blue marble to wake up and grow on a cold, dry, dead rock.
Allowing others to chip in—students, private companies—will give NASA plenty of valuable information; it’ll also allow children to participate. And maybe one of those kids, staring at a basil plant in a classroom in 2015, is the engineer designing the Artemis greenhouse today.
The Moon is waiting. The seeds are ready. We just need to stick the landing.
SOURCE FORBES
Originally posted 2013-11-24 22:51:04. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Aloha, I’m Amit Ghosh, a web entrepreneur and avid blogger. Bitten by entrepreneurial bug, I got kicked out from college and ended up being millionaire and running a digital media company named Aeron7 headquartered at Lithuania.