Artemis II and the Search for Meaning and Purpose

Something was striking about the public reaction to the ten-day Artemis II mission around the moon. People were genuinely engaged—watching closely, discussing it, and following each development with anticipation. Yet for those of us who lived through the early years of the space program, a quiet question lingered beneath the excitement: haven't we done this before?

We orbited the moon in the 1960s. We landed on it and returned safely. So why does a mission that retraces those steps stir something so deeply again?

The answer lies not in the technology but in what it represents. When John F. Kennedy committed the nation to reaching the moon, he did more than set a goal. He gave a generation direction. That single objective reshaped science and engineering and, more importantly, instilled in people a sense of belonging to something larger than themselves. It was not merely an engineering challenge. It was a statement of purpose.

In the following decades, maintaining that sense of purpose became increasingly challenging. The Space Shuttle program advanced this legacy, but not without sacrifices. The tragedies of Challenger and Columbia served as stark reminders that such exploration requires sacrifice. Over time, the mission shifted from being a pioneering effort to a more routine, operational activity, with less apparent connection to a larger national goal. When the Shuttle program concluded in 2011, the U.S. lost the capability to launch its own astronauts into space. For almost ten years, American crews depended on Russian Soyuz rockets to reach orbit.

Only in recent years, with partnerships like SpaceX, has this capability been restored. Currently, most missions are still limited to low Earth orbit, mainly transporting supplies to and from the International Space Station.

None of this indicates a lack of technical skill. Instead, it highlights a less tangible but more crucial challenge: maintaining a shared sense of purpose consistently over time.

Today, people's reactions may stem not only from a familiar task but also from reconnecting with what we've been missing – meaning and purpose.

Abundance Without Fulfillment

We reside in the most prosperous nation in history, yet face high levels of depression, anxiety, addiction, homelessness, and suicide. Despite being interconnected through technology, we often feel emotionally disconnected from each other. Our struggles go beyond social or economic issues and may stem from a deeper source: a sense of lost purpose.

Throughout most of human history, people did not need to define purpose explicitly; it was inherently understood. Family, work, faith, and community created a framework that guided life. Roles were clearer, and effort carried meaning beyond the individual. Although not perfect, this system offered a vital sense of direction, connecting daily life to a greater purpose.

Today, many of these structures have diminished. Family formation has decreased, religious involvement has declined, and civic institutions have fragmented. For many work has historically been the main way to understand contribution and identity. This foundation is now evolving—initially due to economic shifts in past decades and, in the very near future, increasingly driven by artificial intelligence and automation.

Foundations That Cannot Be Replaced

Family, faith, and community are not outdated traditions. They are fundamental to learning responsibility, experiencing sacrifice, and shaping identity in ways that go beyond personal choices. Former Senator Ben Sasse, speaking recently on 60 Minutes about his terminal pancreatic cancer, stated clearly: Our closest relationships are not just beginnings we outgrow but the core of everything. Without this focus, a broader purpose risks losing its grounding.

The question, then, is not whether these foundations matter. It is what we build on top of them.

A Glimpse of What Purpose Looks Like

Science fiction has long anticipated the direction of human progress. Take the original Star Trek as an example: the Federation operates in a realm of abundance, where material needs are mostly satisfied, and scarcity is rare. In such a setting, humanity doesn't inwardly focus on endless consumption; instead, it looks outward. Its purpose is exploration, discovery, and gaining understanding—focused on goals beyond mere comfort.

We are approaching a similar moment. As AI and automation progress faster than many expect, we are moving from questioning what we need to contemplating our purpose. We can opt to indulge in more distractions—or, as our best ideas have always advised, direct our attention toward something more meaningful.

Where Purpose Is Found

If purpose is what we have lost, the solution will not be found in policy or economics alone. The question is ultimately philosophical: what is human life for—and is there a framework that speaks to both those who seek that answer through faith and those who seek it through reason?

I think so, and it starts with understanding that these paths are more linked than we've been led to believe.

The secular world sees inquiry as one of humanity's top pursuits. Exploring the universe, gaining knowledge, and improving life are valuable and meaningful aims. Nonetheless, inquiry mainly explains how things occur rather than why. Knowledge without purpose resembles a powerful tool lacking a clear goal. The disconnect—between our abilities and our reasons for action—is where many people face difficulties.

A translation of Paul’s Epistle to the Romans makes this idea very clear: “The invisible qualities of God’s nature have been made visible… He has made his character evident through all of his creation.” This is an impressive statement. It doesn’t separate faith from inquiry but rather links them. It implies that studying the world—looking into creation in all its details—is a way to understand something beyond it. The encouragement to explore, research, and learn isn’t contrary to faith. Instead, it is an expression of faith.

This issue extends beyond theology. It offers a framework for a purpose that does not require abandoning either faith or reason. It links the scientist's curiosity with the believer's reverence, both driven by the same fundamental act: the pursuit of understanding what surrounds us.

This kind of purpose is not just personal; it is collective. It doesn't remove differences but embeds them within a broader context—one significant enough to guide human effort, especially when that guidance is increasingly uncertain.

The excitement around Artemis II isn't just about revisiting the past. It offers a sense of harmony between effort and purpose—a fleeting feeling that we're heading toward something meaningful, rather than merely moving forward.

The question is whether we are prepared to create something more enduring from it.

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Catholic Just War Doctrine in a Time of War

I am not a theologian, but I relied on the Catholic just war tradition during a time of war, when the decisions before me carried consequences measured in human lives. That tradition, refined over nearly two thousand years, exists precisely for moments like that. Today, the Church articulates that tradition through a clear moral framework—what we call just war doctrine. 

I want to make a case—to Catholics and non-Catholics alike—that this tradition matters now. Pope Leo XIV has spoken powerfully about peace. That emphasis may reflect a pastoral corrective in a violent moment, but he has not engaged with the doctrine the Church itself provides.

The Strait of Hormuz: Secure the Present, Build a Different Future

In the late 1980s, I worked at the Office of Naval Intelligence, supporting U.S. naval operations in the Persian Gulf. One of those operations was Earnest Will, the largest convoy escort mission since World War II. American warships protected reflagged Kuwaiti tankers from Iranian mines and small-boat attacks. Despite those threats, the operation succeeded. The Strait remained open, and Iran ultimately backed down.

That success, however, masked a larger failure. We solved the immediate problem but left the underlying one intact. Iran retained the ability to threaten the strait, and the world remained dependent on it. Four decades later, we are paying the price.

Today, the Strait of Hormuz is effectively closed again. Commercial shipping has fallen by more than 90 percent, and millions of barrels of oil per day have been removed from the market. Prices have surged past $100 a barrel, and economies that depend heavily on Gulf energy, particularly in Asia, are scrambling to adjust. This was not an unforeseen development; it was the predictable result of a vulnerability that was never addressed.

Birthright Citizenship: A Personal Take on the Supreme Court Arguments

This week, I listened to the Supreme Court’s oral arguments in Donald J. Trump, President of the United States, et al. v. Barbara, et al.—a case that could redefine birthright citizenship in America. Both sides presented serious legal interpretations, and anyone claiming certainty about the outcome is probably allowing politics to influence their thinking. We should expect a ruling by the end of the Court’s term in June.

My interest in this case extends beyond academic curiosity. I minored in law during college and seriously considered law school, but I ultimately pursued a career as a Naval Intelligence officer. While serving in Washington, D.C., I lived just a few blocks behind the Supreme Court building and the Capitol and spent years witnessing how law and policy function in real-world situations—often in more complex ways than they appear from an outsider's perspective. This case is just as complex.

Some History Worth Knowing

The 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments, ratified between 1865 and 1870, aimed to rebuild the nation after the Civil War and ensure equal rights for formerly enslaved people. The 14th Amendment, in particular, granted citizenship to “all persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof,” while also securing due process and equal protection.

That language was clear in its immediate purpose but left room for interpretation—especially the phrase “subject to the jurisdiction thereof.” That ambiguity is precisely what the Court is now being asked to resolve.

Book Announcement: Brotherhood and Borders

 After more than a decade of writing about immigration and political division, my new book is now available on Amazon:

Brotherhood and Borders: Immigration, Compassion, and the Rule of Law in America

Immigration is not simply a border issue. It is a moral issue, a structural issue, and ultimately a credibility issue.

This book examines:

• Why reform efforts repeatedly fail

• How political incentives distort outcomes

• Why enforcement moved from controlled settings into public confrontation

• And what success would actually look like

It is written for readers who want structure instead of slogans.

Available now in hardcover and Kindle at this link:  https://a.co/d/0dNb2L9I

Please consider purchasing the book and if you find it informative and helpful in moving us closer to resolving this issue, share the link with friends, family, and influential people on this issue in Congress and in your state and local government.  Thank you, Dan Gallagher

Wake Up, America: Minneapolis and the Escalation We Pretended Wouldn’t Come

The death of Renée Nicole Good in Minneapolis is tragic. A life ended suddenly and violently, and no decent person should be indifferent to that. Almost immediately, the country split into familiar camps, each racing to advance a narrative before the facts had settled. As usual, nothing was learned, and tensions only rose.

Whatever the final legal findings say, one thing is already clear: this event did not occur in isolation. It fits a pattern that has been building for years. We can keep pretending these are isolated incidents, or we can face what the evidence is telling us. The divide over immigration enforcement is producing predictable—and preventable—tragedies.

The Data Tells a Story

Immigration enforcement happens in two fundamentally different ways. In cooperative jurisdictions, when local police arrest someone for an unrelated crime, ICE can lodge a detainer—a request to hold that person briefly so ICE can take custody when local charges are resolved. The transfer happens inside a jail, controlled and administrative. In non-cooperative sanctuary jurisdictions, local authorities refuse these detainers. This forces ICE to locate and arrest people in the community—at homes, workplaces, during traffic stops, and on streets. One method happens behind secure walls. The other happens in public—where crowds form, tensions escalate, and split-second decisions can turn deadly.

Between January 20 and October 15, 2025, ICE made more than 217,000 arrests in the country’s interior (Prison Policy Initiative analysis of ICE data). The majority of those arrested had either prior criminal convictions or pending criminal charges, while approximately 33% were arrested for immigration status violations only. It is not known how many individuals in this latter category were arrested in conjunction with another arrest or were subject to final deportation orders.

After Maduro: The Test of U.S. Power, Restraint, and Competence

This is Part III of a three-part series examining the Trump Administration's Venezuela strategy. Part I established why the Western Hemisphere became a U.S. national security priority. Part II explained how that strategy translated into Operation Southern Spear and the military force posture now in the Caribbean.

In the early hours of January 3, 2026, the United States conducted military strikes across Venezuela and captured President Nicolás Maduro and his wife, transporting them to the USS Iwo Jima before transfer to face narcoterrorism charges in the Southern District of New York. Operation Absolute Resolve succeeded with no U.S. casualties or equipment losses.

For readers of this series, the question was never whether this would happen—it was when, and what would follow.

In a press conference today, President Trump provided the answer. Asked who would govern Venezuela, he stated simply: "We are going to run it." He clarified that the United States has no intention of executing this operation only to hand authority immediately to officials who may lack capacity or support. The U.S. will establish stability, begin reconstructing the oil industry, and only then identify Venezuelan leadership capable of assuming power.

This represents direct U.S. interim administration—not immediate transfer to Venezuelan opposition figures. It is a significant departure from recent interventions and raises profound questions about execution, timeline, and exit strategy.