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As of today, more than 600 people have lived in orbit or beyond for some amount of time. But only two, both cosmonauts, have lived in space for more than a year. Typical International Space Station (ISS) missions of about six months are often billed as being test runs for extended stays in deep space or the moon or for missions to Mars, yet so far there is very little precedent for spending a long time in space.
A generation of space visionaries with deep pockets [ [link removed] ] has moved the concept of a future in space from speculation to plausibility. Elon Musk’s SpaceX has its sights set firmly on occupying Mars [ [link removed] ]. Blue Origin founder Jeff Bezos wants to move heavy industry [ [link removed] ] off the Earth and into space. Fatih and Eren Ozmen’s Sierra Space is developing large private space habitats [ [link removed] ] and spaceplanes to serve them.
All these entrepreneurs envision general access to space for humanity at large as a hedge against planetary disaster, a means of preserving Earth’s environment and expanding opportunities to make a living. In particular, Musk and Bezos talk about massive transfers of populations off the Earth and humans becoming a species that spans the solar system.
As attractive as this vision might be to futurists and space enthusiasts, it is going to be difficult to get people to sign onto sealing themselves off from the outside for years, if not for the rest of their lives.
It’s a Small World
The final frontier sounds expansive, but it won’t feel that way for those who make a life in it. True, the universe is endless, and vistas may be magnificent on the other side of the glass (or polycarbonate or transparent aluminum). But the fact is, there will always be a barrier between you and the great outdoors, even on planets other than Earth. Unless you go back to the homeworld on vacation, you will never feel a fresh breeze on your face again.
Even walking on the surface of Mars, with the sun in a marmalade sky and a beckoning horizon, a person is in a wrapper. If anything, spacesuits are even more confining than artificial space habitats. You are in an MRI machine with a window, or a screen. You can’t scratch your nose.
A lot of experimentation and research is going into the practical difficulties of supporting life in space, such as discovering the effects of microgravity [ [link removed] ], as weightlessness is properly called, on the human body. Similarly, understanding how much radiation the body receives in space [ [link removed] ] is key to safely enabling excursions beyond the Earth’s protective atmosphere and magnetic envelope. Sceptics cite these physical perils [ [link removed] ], often (inevitably) along with their ethical and economic objections to space colonization. Yet the challenges of providing people with gravity [ [link removed] ] and shielding them from various sources of radiation [ [link removed] ] are largely technical and appear solvable in time.
Even when discussions about living in space focus on the artificiality of the environment [ [link removed] ], the main issue seems to be whether people could supply or generate the required amounts of food, energy and resources to sustain habitats indefinitely. Again, these all appear to be problems that can be solved with research, engineering and practice.
However, space programs generate less information about the psychological effects of extended confinement in orbital conditions. While astronauts do receive regular batteries of neurological testing [ [link removed] ], these tend to focus on cognitive skills, stress levels and other factors related to mood and performance. Tests conducted during the record-holding 438-day flight of Russia’s Valeri Polyakov in the mid-1990s indicated he suffered some initial decline [ [link removed] ] in mood and performance early in the mission but recovered to near-preflight levels after two weeks or so. These results indicate that humans are adaptable even in extreme environments, particularly with training.
At the same time, such performance monitoring is exactly that: How is being in space affecting a person’s ability to do jobs and interact with others? The closer evaluations get to measuring how a person really feels about things, the more subjective they become and the more dependent they are on the astronaut’s candor and even self-knowledge. NASA astronaut Scott Kelly [ [link removed] ] famously reported on his physiological and psychological ailments resulting from nearly a year aboard the ISS.
Possibly the closest analog to space travel is deployment on a nuclear ballistic missile submarine. According to the U.S. Navy, so-called deterrence patrols require the sub to remain at sea and submerged for two to four months. Remaining unobserved is the whole point. While there is gravity, there are no windows for the 150 or so people cruising the depths.
Navies with such capabilities keep their servicepeople sane and effective under these conditions by filtering out those who probably wouldn’t be able to handle it with rigorous training regimes prior to assignment. For the maybe one-in-ten candidates who do qualify and deploy, they may find focus in the discipline of duty watches, opportunities for training in other functions and crew camaraderie. Not everybody is cut out to wear a dolphin [ [link removed] ].
On the face of it, highly selective screening and cross-training seem like just the ticket for astronauts as well. Space programs, scientific institutions and military services excel at developing engaging activities for trained personnel. Moreover, NASA operates a number of facilities where it is possible to conduct analog space missions [ [link removed] ] to simulate some aspects of long-endurance spaceflight and exploration, including the effects of confinement and isolation. There are similar privately run facilities, perhaps the most famous being the Biosphere 2 [ [link removed] ] campus in Arizona.
The common factor of all these simulations, however, is that the participants know they will be let out again into the open air and sunshine after some interval.
Inside Outside
Science fiction writers and filmmakers have explored the psychological pressures of being inside all the time in space. When tempers flared on the spaceship Icarus II in the 2007 movie “Sunshine [ [link removed] ],” the doctor prescribed the malcontents time in the “Earth room [ [link removed] ]” to restore their psyches with scenes of natural beauty and grandeur.
While the ISS doesn’t have the facilities or electrical capacity to support a dedicated simulation chamber, it does host virtual reality experiments with an eye toward fielding tools for maintaining the mental health of astronauts [ [link removed] ]. In one mode, the system enables the wearer of VR goggles to experience a relaxing natural setting. In another, the goggles simulate a realistic road system for enhancing stationary bike exercise.
While screens and VR headsets may provide some stimulation and engagement, relying on them for the mental health of astronauts over the long haul is likely a loser. Debates over the effects of screen time on children [ [link removed] ] are leading many to the relatively noncontroversial conclusion that less is more when it comes to mental health. Scientific studies [ [link removed] ] are showing that prolonged immersion in VR environments produces both physical and mental ailments.
Anecdotally, gamers often report feelings of isolation, disorientation and anxiety after marathon gaming sessions. Any prolonged computer use will produce similar effects. This being the case, screens and goggles cannot be counted on to provide the outdoor experience for extended periods of time that we seem to crave for our sanity.
Could this necessary contact with nature be accomplished in small doses? A recent study analyzing 30 years of published research said as little as 10 minutes of exposure to nature [ [link removed] ] per day can yield short-term benefits in adults with mental health issues. The research suggested that any exposure is better than none and that even urban parks could provide benefits. Maybe the Earth room on the Icarus II isn’t so farfetched for a future interplanetary spacecraft or space habitat.
Urban architects are already working to create more convincing illusions [ [link removed] ] of natural settings in enclosed work spaces, such as installing artificial skylights and windows with realistic framing and other visual cues for essentially tricking the brain into thinking that nature is close at hand. But while these might improve mood and morale over an eight-hour work shift, will they remain effective in a space habitat month after month, year after year, or will they eventually just become wan and even resented? Almost certainly the latter.
A simulation of nature is not the same as the real thing, and nobody but personnel trained to the highest levels can be expected to face a fate consigned to an artificial environment on the timescales needed for interplanetary travel and economic development. Furthermore, can even the highest-functioning astronaut be trained for a five-year mission, or beyond?
Inner Space
The only way to make long-endurance space travel tolerable for trained crews, let alone civilians, is to provide as much space inside vehicles and habitats as possible. Florida-based startup Max Space [ [link removed] ] is developing inflatable structures that the company says can scale up to volumes of thousands of cubic meters. By comparison, the ISS has a pressurized volume of only about 900 cubic meters, equal to a 747 airliner. Other companies such as Bigelow Aerospace [ [link removed] ], Lockheed Martin [ [link removed] ] and the aforementioned Sierra Space are developing inflatable space habitats. Bigelow deployed a 16 cubic meter inflatable on the ISS in 2016 that is still in service.
The advantage of inflatables is that they can provide large pressurized volumes with relatively little launch weight and volume compared to traditional space structures. Depending on the design, inflatable habitats are made from Kevlar and other proprietary materials that fold down into easily launchable shapes. Max Space is scheduled to fly a version of its design with SpaceX in 2026 that will launch as a two cubic meter package inflatable to a pressurized volume of 20 cubic meters.
Ultimately, Max Space says [ [link removed] ], it intends to fly megastructures with inflated volumes of 10,000 or more cubic meters on individual SpaceX Starship and Blue Origin New Glenn rockets when those are available.
Conceivably, more volume means more living space and room for those “nonessentials” that make life more pleasant and comfortable. Space analogs of urban architects will no doubt be contracted to turn a significant portion of these volumes into striking artificial nature-scapes that incorporate real plants and perhaps even some animals. Breezes and fragrances, mists and mild precipitation may be induced along with appropriate lighting and sounds to complete the effect.
But at its core, the Earth room on a future spaceship will be more like a Rainforest Cafe [ [link removed] ] than a forest. The most elaborate habitats on Mars will be like living in a high-end shopping mall. Flatscreen displays and VR headsets may amuse or motivate but are no substitute for getting outside for a bit of fresh air. Those who fantasize about terraforming Mars should remember how unsure we are about what affects Earth’s climate. Building a new one elsewhere is a nonstarter for the foreseeable future.
People will go into space, and possibly in significant numbers. However, rather than populations seeking new lives in the off-world colonies, specialists will pursue science, entrepreneurs will strive after fortunes and tourists will enjoy new experiences. Few will be willing or able to suffer the privations and confinements of living there.

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