If you’ve been anywhere near the internet this week, you will have seen that NASA is bringing the Crew-11 astronauts back from the International Space Station early due to a “medical issue.”
No great details given due to privacy rights, so no name, no diagnosis, and no great drama. Nonetheless, this lack of detail always leads to worry, much speculation and many clickbait headlines to boost page visitor numbers. But to be honest, this event holds no great mystery, it’s nothing weird, in fact, it’s probably overdue!

When we think of space exploration, we generally think of it as something heroic - big rockets, brave astronauts floating around and amazing photos of our planet Earth. What we don’t really talk about is that space is quietly hostile to the human body, not in an exploding spacesuit sci-fi drama sort of way, but in a slow, grinding, biological manner.
The simple fact is that microgravity messes with almost everything:

• Bones start leaking calcium.
• Muscles shrink.
• Blood moves around your body differently.
• Immune system gets confused.
• Eyes can change shape.
• Hearts can alter and not work in the usual way.
• Even old viruses that you had as a child can spark back into life again.

​Astronauts are not ‘ill’ in space in the usual sense, but they are also not ‘normal’ anymore. Instead, their bodies are constantly adapting and compensating for the lack of gravity, and slowly using up their safety margins.

NASA has not revealed exactly what happened to the Crew-11 astronaut who needed to come home and they probably never will. However, the important part really isn’t the specific symptom. The important part is that someone’s body crossed a line where Earth became safer than orbit. This is less about a mission failure and more about highlighting the reality of long-duration spaceflight.
The ISS has been permanently occupied for more than 25 years. In that time, astronauts have had all kinds of health issues up there, even if they were rarely described that way, for example:

• Heart rhythm changes.
• Kidney stones.
• Vision problems.
• Blood clots.
• Immune system crashes.
• People fainting and being unable to stand up when they come home.

​Most of it is explained away in polite language like “out of an abundance of caution” or for “operational reasons”, but this time, Crew-11 has said the quiet part out loud.

​Early space missions were short, just days or weeks. You could grit your teeth and push through, and before you knew it you were returning to Earth again. Nowadays, astronauts live on the ISS for six months, and sometimes longer. That turns spaceflight into something very different. It’s no longer a short sprint but more of a long-distance race, with slow exposure to an environment for which the human body was never designed. Astronauts these days are less like explorers and more like participants in long medical experiments, and sometimes experiments can end early.

InnovaSpace Director, Thais Russomano, is a doctor who specialised in space medicine and human physiology, and she will often say that space doesn’t suddenly break you. Rather, it slowly begins to nudge every single body system away from where it is accustomed to being. Most of the time, the body copes and adapts, but sometimes, it doesn’t. So, if NASA says someone needs to come home for medical reasons, it isn’t a mystery. It should be taken as a reminder that although human bodies are incredible, they still come with limits.

Fortunately for Crew-11, being on the ISS means they could come home relatively easily. But what of a Moon crew - maybe not - and a Mars crew - definitely not. There is no quick splashdown from deep space. This story perhaps reflects not so much on one astronaut on one mission, but sharply highlights where we are on a bigger journey.
​We are leaving the era of “Can humans survive in space?” and entering a new era of “Just how long can humans survive in space?”

​When we think of human spaceflight, it’s easy to focus on rockets, spacecraft and mission timelines. Less visible, but just as critical, is the quiet disruption of the body’s natural rhythms. On board the International Space Station, astronauts witness multiple sunrises and sunsets every day, challenging circadian systems that have evolved under a single 24-hour light–dark cycle. Sleep, hormonal regulation, cognition and overall wellbeing all depend on rhythm. The below article written by Dr Maria Helena Itaqui Lopes, originally published in the journal Zero Hora and website GZH, explores rhythm from a clinical and musical perspective, and reminds us that the language of the body matters deeply, whether on Earth or in orbit.

​One day, while studying the biography of Herbert von Karajan, the legendary conductor regarded as one of the greatest in the history of conducting and often referred to as the “conductor of conductors”, I was struck by his reflections on rhythm. He stated that “if no one teaches students the basic disciplines of rhythm, things become impossible”. Although this statement, coming from a musician, may at first seem to relate exclusively to music, in reality rhythm goes far beyond this. It encompasses a sense of balance in physical movement, mental processes, learning, self-care, daily activities and vital energy.

​Our bodies function rhythmically. We need only recall cardiac rhythm, breathing, sleep, digestive function and circadian rhythms, among many others. Of the biological rhythms that regulate bodily function, the circadian rhythm stands out as a central example, as it organises hormonal release in a time-dependent manner. The secretion of cortisol, melatonin, growth hormone and insulin follows patterns that influence metabolism, immune response, cognitive performance and tissue repair. In preventive medicine, recognising these rhythms allows functional variations to be interpreted, the timing of assessments to be guided, and interventions to be individualised.

​Still within the scope of preventive medicine, the starting point for a health review is not defined by age-related calendars nor by the presence of symptoms, but rather by the early recognition of functional changes, taking family history and genetics into account. Beginning an assessment at this stage means respecting an individual’s biological timing, interpreting subtle functional signals and anticipating risks before disease becomes established. In this way, the clinical review becomes a strategy of continuous, personalised care, aimed at preserving autonomy and health over time.

​These notions of the body’s own language interact with our daily activities. Returning to music, we know that a large proportion of Baroque works were written at a tempo of 75 to 80 beats per minute, measured by a metronome (a device used by musicians to regulate tempo by setting beats per minute), which corresponds closely to the average resting heart rate considered normal. It could be said that this synergy is pleasing to most people.

​A medical consultation also has its own rhythm, which is sometimes forgotten or even never learned. A consultation has a beginning, a development, a moment of climax and a conclusion. Expressing empathy either too early or at an inappropriate moment disrupts this balance, and the doctor–patient relationship becomes misaligned. Entering the correct frequency to properly understand a patient is a skill that requires a basic sense of rhythm. An andante tempo (a musical term referring to tempos between 72 and 84 beats per minute) closely resembles our heart rate and therefore feels comfortable to us. In other words, at the start of a consultation or during a visit to a patient in a hospital bed, the encounter should follow a rhythm that conveys safety and support from the doctor. This is a skill that should be better recognised and valued by professionals. From the patient’s perspective, the choice of when to undertake a clinical review should be carefully considered and planned for the new year that is beginning.

​Another, rather striking, story related to rhythm concerns three conductors who died while conducting the third act of Wagner’s opera Tristan and Isolde. The pauses in this passage are intermittent and irregular, creating tension that can affect both mind and body. Karajan, aware of this and seeking to protect himself, would dissipate this intense tension by using breathing movements to distance himself from the musical strain.
In life, as in music, it is essential to find the right rhythm for each challenge, especially when it comes to caring for one’s own health.

​Yet another year has flown by, and we now say goodbye to 2025 and welcome in 2026. Reflecting on the last twelve months in human space exploration, it feels like a year shaped more by consolidation than by any grand spectacle. Crews continued to live and work aboard the International Space Station, commercial astronaut missions became increasingly routine, and long‑planned space programmes quietly adjusted their timelines in response to technical and human realities. Rather than dramatic milestones, 2025 has offered something perhaps more valuable: a year of learning, reassessment, and preparation. Against this backdrop, the year ahead arrives not with grand promises, but with a sense of renewed direction, a year where people, not just missions, come back into sharper focus.

Stepping into 2026 seems like a good time to pause and take stock of where human space exploration really is. Not where the flashiest headlines suggest it might be, but where those working within the field know it to be. After years of delays, redesigns, and reality checks, there is a sense that progress is resuming, carefully and deliberately, with a renewed emphasis on the human being at the centre of spaceflight.
​2026 may not deliver dramatic firsts or iconic boot‑prints on planetary surfaces, but it should mark a return to forward motion, and in human space exploration, that truly matters.

​One of the most symbolically important missions of the year will be Artemis II. This mission is not about landing. It is about learning, or perhaps relearning, how to send people safely into deep space. It is safety‑focused and cautious by design, and that caution feels exactly right.

​While deep space draws attention, low Earth orbit continues to do much of the heavy lifting by laying the research groundwork. The International Space Station remains an extraordinary laboratory for understanding how the human body and mind respond to life in space. Commercial astronaut missions will no longer be a novelty in 2026, but will form part of the regular rhythm of human activity in orbit.

​China’s human space programme continues to progress at a calm, steady pace. Crewed missions to the Tiangong space station build long‑duration experience, while robotic lunar missions quietly prepare the ground for future human exploration. Different pathways perhaps, but shared human challenges.

​Robotic missions may lack the drama of crewed flights, but they are essential. Lunar south‑pole exploration, including the search for water ice, is practical preparation for a future human presence beyond Earth.

From a personal perspective, 2026 will also mark the very welcome return of the IAA Humans in Space Symposium in Montecatini, Italy. As the only international congress dedicated entirely to humans in space, its focus on physiology, psychology, performance, and wellbeing feels particularly timely.

I wouldn’t consider myself a great poet, far from it, but I would argue the case that poetry (and many of the other arts) have a rightful place in the future of space exploration. Life in space is not only about engineering solutions or medical data. Indeed, many astronauts onboard the ISS have found a need to reflect on and share their experiences, giving us a glimpse of space through human feelings and humour, more specifically through poetry.
Apollo 15 astronaut Al Worden published Hello Earth: Greetings from Endeavour in 1974, a collection of poems about his experiences as an astronaut and the feelings of joy and solitude that being in space provoked. Decades later in 2012, Don Pettit shared his own reflections while on the ISS in a short poem entitled Space Is My Mistress. These examples show that astronauts often look beyond scientific reporting, choosing poetry as a way to express moments that are difficult to put into ordinary words.

​Artistic work, including poetry, helps connect the public with space exploration. Scientific papers and technical reports can feel distant, but a poem sparks curiosity and imagination in new audiences. Some projects have even included artists directly in space-related activities, such as analog missions and exhibitions that mix art with science. These efforts highlight that exploration is not only about technology and survival, but also about culture and community. In the long run, creative expression will be an important part of how people adapt to life away from Earth.

​In honour of this blog, I thought I would write a few lines of poetry about spending time on the ISS, though let me remind you I warned in my first sentence that I am far from being a good poet – so bear with me! Here in the UK, I’m of an age that remembers an ITV television talent programme called Opportunity Knocks, decades before Simon Cowell and Britain’s Got Talent appeared on the scene. It was the mid-1970s and onto the stage walked a homely young lady called Pam Ayres, who in a little more than two minutes recited a humorous poem called ‘The Embarrassing Experience With A Parrot’. The audience loved her, I loved her, and my older brother Chris spent the following years of his life reciting Pam Ayres poems as his party trick to impress his friends! Considering all this, and remembering my brother who is no longer with us, I created a short light-hearted ode in the style of Pam Ayres, called Six Months Aloft.

​As we plan for longer missions to the Moon, Mars, and beyond, it becomes clear that astronauts will need more than machines and medicine to thrive. They will also need ways to express themselves and to stay connected with their own humanity. Poetry, along with other forms of art, helps bring meaning to the experience of living in space. Whether serious or humorous, it reminds us that exploration is not only about survival, but also about creativity, culture, and simply being human.

When humans eventually set foot on Mars, they’ll face a medical challenge that rarely needs to be thought about on Earth - TIME. A radio signal between Earth and Mars can take 4 to 24 minutes to travel one way. That means if an astronaut sends a question to Mission Control, it could be more than 40 minutes before they receive a reply, which in an emergency situation is far too long to wait.
To close this gap, NASA and Google are working together on something called the Crew Medical Officer Digital Assistant (CMO-DA), an artificial intelligence system for space medicine designed to support astronauts when Earth is too far away to give immediate help. Think of it as a “medical copilot” that will not replace doctors, but instead will help the crew diagnose and manage problems step-by-step using knowledge adapted specifically to space medicine.

Unlike a standard chatbot, the CMO-DA can work with multiple kinds of input. Astronauts might type or speak questions, upload vital signs, or share images from a portable ultrasound. The system then offers possible causes, highlights urgent warning signs, and suggests treatments that match the very limited supplies they have available to them. The big difference from Earth-based systems is that it’s trained with information that reflects spaceflight medical challenges, such as fluid shifts in low gravity, the increased risk of kidney stones, or how certain drugs behave differently in space.
To test its usefulness, NASA and Google have been running the assistant through structured scenarios. These use the same exam style that medical students face, called Objective Structured Clinical Examinations, where candidates are judged on how well they manage a case. The early results look promising, with the AI decision support tool giving safe, reliable advice, and it helps astronauts approach a situation more clearly under stress.

This project is part of NASA’s broader plan for Earth-Independent Medical Operations. For deep-space missions, it has long been recognised that crews need a much higher degree of autonomy, since communication with Earth may be delayed or even cut off entirely—for example, when Mars is hidden behind the Sun. A tool like the CMO-DA gives astronauts a way to stabilise and treat a patient without waiting for ground communication.
It’s important to remember that the system is meant as support and not as an authority. Ultimately, the astronauts in-situ remain the decision-makers. The assistant provides structured checklists, reminders, and treatment suggestions. It can also document everything that was done and prepare a clear report so that, once communication is restored, doctors on Earth can follow-up what happened and advise on next steps.

The future will bring new features, with researchers aiming to link the assistant to onboard sensors, wearables, and imaging devices, and to test it in Mars analogue missions on Earth. The goal is a complete medical system—crew, tools, and smart software working together to make medical autonomy on Mars a reality.
This technology, however, isn’t just for astronauts. It could also benefit people in remote communities on Earth, where medical access and connectivity are limited. In that way, a tool built for Mars missions medical support might improve healthcare for millions here at home.
NASA and Google’s project shows how AI in aerospace medicine is shifting from science fiction into practical support for space medicine—with potential benefits reaching well beyond Mars.

Microbes are generally associated with infection, and the usual response to their mere presence is to eradicate them as quickly as possible. For example, the “no-rinse soap” used during space travel mainly consist of antimicrobials, i.e. chemicals that kill microbes, with the aim to remove bacteria on the skin.
It is correct that microbes can cause disease, but it is microbes that created an environment and an atmosphere on Earth that allow plants and animals to exist. Microbes are literally everywhere, and we ourselves depend upon microbes to keep our external facing surfaces healthy and to help with the breakdown of food in our gut and production of substances that our body needs. The microbes form actual communities with thousands of species in and on us, for example the gut, respiratory and skin microbiomes, and these communities collaborate with our immune systems.

​To give an idea of their importance, data suggest that it is the pollution from antimicrobials that is the primary responsible for climate change because their impact is very broad and reduces the microbial diversity and changes the microbial balance. Similarly, studies indicate that antibiotics have long-term impact on our health, and they have been shown to increase the frequency of cancer, diabetes, asthma as well as functional impairments in children’s development, immune function, and cognition. Poor gut health, which usually means an unbalanced and low diversity microbiome, has also been associated with mental health problems including depression and anxiety as our gut microbiome is responsible for producing substances needed for normal brain function.
On the International Space Station skin issues and problems with wound healing have been reported. Microgravity and radiation have generally been assumed to be responsible for this and the fact, that “no-rinse-soap” is a cocktail of antimicrobials, has received practically no attention. Antimicrobials are traditionally used for treating wounds, but the US FDA reported in 2016 and again in 2022 that they are ineffective in treating wounds, and studies have demonstrated that antimicrobials directly impair healing and that a healthy wound microbiome is required for healing to take place. These novel conclusions banning antimicrobials in skin care and wound healing are further supported by the positive findings with a new technology, MPPT (micropore particle technology), which acts by regulating the wound microbiome without killing anything. MPPT has been able to achieve 100% wound closure rates, including in complicated wounds and in people with impaired immune function. This observation shows that approaches that support the collaboration between the microbes and the immune system can be much more effective than the traditional, old blanket-bombing approach of eradicating all microbes, which renders the skin debilitated and less resilient.

These observations are relevant to space travel, in terms of both the environment onboard and clothing, food and methods of ”washing”. Our bodies have evolved on Earth, where microbes were and are present, and our evolution has benefited from this as the microbes assist in protecting our surfaces and in delivering nutrients and critical compounds needed for our health. This dependence persists, even if we decide to leave Earth for shorter or longer periods of time. It is therefore a necessity, particularly for deep space travel, which does not permit us returning to Earth periodically to update our microbiome, to develop environments and procedures onboard that can sustain our microbial requirements.
These considerations are based on an article recently published in Frontiers in Public Health, which focuses on the role of antimicrobials in causing climate change from severely damaging the Earth’s microbiome. The impact of antimicrobials on the Earth microbiome and the microbiome inside a space station are comparable as they are both closed systems. It is consequently important to consider the essentiality of the microbial environment, when planning human life outside the Earth’s environment.

When scrolling through the endless nonsense recently that appears on Facebook, I came across a rare post of interest detailing the remarkable work of French geologist Michel Siffre, who died a year ago this Sunday (24 August 2024), aged 85 years. In 1972, Siffre conducted an extraordinary isolation experiment in which he lived alone for 180 days in a cave 440 feet underground. He had no sunlight, no clock, and no contact with any other person, having only basic supplies, a sleeping bag, and instruments for recording his activities and observations.
His aim was to study how the human mind and body behave when deprived of all natural time cues. The results of this work, now more than 50 years old, continue to be relevant for research into human endurance, circadian rhythms, and the psychological effects of extreme isolation. They are also especially relevant for human space exploration, with space agencies considering the realities of sending people to live for months, or even years, in sealed environments on the Moon or Mars.

Initially, Siffre relied on hunger and fatigue to regulate his days, but within weeks it was observed that his perception of time changed. He often believed a day had passed when nearly two had gone by. His body abandoned the 24-hour cycle, adopting a 36-hour waking period followed by 12 hours of sleep.
Scientists monitoring the experiment saw this as evidence that humans have an internal clock that can operate independently of the Sun. The changes, however, came with cognitive and psychological costs, like hallucinations, difficulty speaking, memory lapses, and a need to create artificial social interaction, such as talking to insects or to himself. By the time the experiment ended, Siffre believed only 151 days had passed, rather than the actual 180 days.

Life Without a Sunrise - Astronauts aboard the International Space Station (ISS) see 16 sunrises every Earth day. This constant cycling of light and dark is managed by strict schedules, carefully calibrated lighting systems, and oversight by mission control, ensuring that body clocks remain aligned with a 24-hour rhythm. Without such controls, circadian rhythms can rapidly drift, affecting alertness, decision-making, and even physical health.

InnovaSpace Team comment: Last week, we shared a post about the many ways people can contribute to space exploration—without ever wearing a spacesuit. This week, we’re delighted to feature a reflection from our friend and colleague Lukasz Wilczynski, founder of the European Space Foundation and creator of the European Rover Challenge.
Łukasz recently spent a week at the University of Oxford, participating in a high-level programme of The Karman Project and Oxford Space Initiative with future leaders of the global space community. His words below speak for themselves—rich in insight, humour, and a deep belief in space as a tool for positive change.

FINAL THOUGHTS
At InnovaSpace, we echo Łukasz’s sentiment: space is not a remote, elite pursuit - it’s woven into the fabric of our daily lives and our global future. It shapes how we live, how we connect, and how we look at the future.
Whether you're an engineer, artist, teacher, policymaker, or simply have a curious mind—there’s a role for you in space.
Want to get involved? Start by visiting events like the European Rover Challenge or following space organisations online.
Join in the conversation because space needs all of us!

When most people think about the type of person who will work in space, the image that springs to mind is that of an astronaut in a bulky white suit floating around outside the International Space Station! That is certainly a part of the story, however the exploration of space needs a lot more than just rocket pilots. In fact, some of the astronauts who will launch this week (July 31st 2025* - Crew-11) come from surprising backgrounds. One of them, Zena Cardman, didn’t start out flying planes or building rockets — she studied microbes in mud and explored caves and Antarctic ice looking for life in extreme environments.
Another of the astronauts, Kimiya Yui from Japan, started out in the Japanese Air Force and later trained with engineers and scientists before becoming an astronaut. Theirs and other stories like them prove that you don’t have to be a math genius or science whiz to have a future in space!
*note: launch delayed to 1st August 2025 due to weather constraints

Space Needs Everyone - Below are just a few of the surprising roles that play a huge part in exploring the cosmos:

• Writers & Communicators – NASA hires science storytellers to explain missions to the world.
• Lawyers - Space law is real! We need legal minds to navigate treaties, satellite rights, and even the ethics of space mining.
• Doctors & Biologists – Astronauts need medical support, and we need people studying how the human body changes in space, such as our very own aerospace medicine specialist Prof Thais Russomano.
• Plumbers - Plumbing is critical—someone has to make sure the water systems (and toilets!) work on the ISS and future Moon bases.
• Artists & Designers – Someone has to design mission patches, build virtual training tools, and even help plan future habitats.
• Gamers & Coders – In fact, video game skills translate well to robot control and navigation.

Whether you're into fashion, food, fitness, or filmmaking... there is room within space exploration for all of these talents and more.

India is a land of unity in diversity. Its rural and tribal corners, though brimming with curiosity and raw talent, often remain unsensitized by the conversations that shape our future, especially when it comes to space science and environmental awareness. On 14th November 2024, at Varanasi (an Indian city popular as a pilgrimage site), a quiet revolution began. LIFE-To & Beyond Foundation®, in collaboration with the Pratham Education Foundation, penned down a new chapter in the Indian space ecosystem. It was marked by a shared vision of "bringing science and space to the mainstream discussion". But this wasn't a lofty corporate pitch, but an interactive DIY science workshop on weather and climate change. This was made possible through LIFE-To & Beyond Foundation® (i.e., through our Outreach Sarabhai initiative, named after the Father of the Indian Space Program, Dr. Vikram Sarabhai [Figure 1]), when we decided to go further, deeper, and wider right into the heart of rural and tribal India. But such a dream needed legs, wheels, and fuel (both literal and metaphorical). That’s where Pratham Education Foundation entered as a key collaborator. Pratham helped bring together its grassroots strength to the table: identifying school children from rural and tribal areas, arranging transportation, and managing the logistics of setting up workshops in their Creativity club centers across India.

Thus, from the ghats of Varanasi to the sub-urbans of Aligarh in Uttar Pradesh; from the arid desert regions in Dausa, Rajasthan to the naxalite-maoist affected, densely forested areas in Konta and Sukma in Chhattisgarh to the gateway to north-east India, i.e., Cooch-Behar, in West Bengal, India, it was a journey across the lengths and breadths of north, west, and eastern parts of India (Figure 2)

The theme for these workshops was Weather and Climate Change and was carried out under the name “Build your Weather Station”. Why? Because these children are not just future citizens, they're current stakeholders of a planet undergoing rapid change, mainly due to anti-environmental human activities. And what better way to learn than by engaging? Kids were introduced to DIY weather stations, built their thermometers, rain gauge, and anemometer, along with engaging demonstrations of magic in a glass of water explaining the concept of atmospheric pressure, cloud in a jar and bottle, a tornado in a bottle, and paper-origami rocket, and a climate satellite model making. All built from everyday materials to understand concepts of temperature, atmospheric pressure, humidity, rainfall, wind, and climate monitoring through. From crafting anemometers out of paper cups to decoding how clouds are born, the sessions turned into hands-on labs of discovery. The idea was simple: make science feel like play and not an academic work.