Now that Voyager 2 is flying away from Neptune, your dream is firmly taking shape.
Your space-geek father watched the Voyager news with excitement every day, and that excitement infected you. You were captivated by the beautiful blue planet—and by the idea that a small machine, engineered by humans, could travel across the vast solar system for 12 years, reach its farthest planet, send back stunning images, and make profound discoveries.
That’s when you decided: you want to join JPL and build a spacecraft like Voyager.
That will become your lifelong dream.
Would you be surprised if I told you that your dream will come true in 24 years? That you will help program autonomous driving for a Mars rover, work on AI for future spacecraft, and lead a team building a snakebot called EELS—one that may one day explore the subsurface ocean of Enceladus, a small icy moon of Saturn, in search of alien life? All of these incredible things have happened to me — and will happen to you — at JPL.
And you will be a father. Wouldn’t it be amazing? You will get the most precious gems in the whole universe. And the boy will look exactly like you! He will build LEGO rovers. The girl will sometimes draw EELS for you. They will be amazed when you point to the red planet in the sky and tell them your code is working there. They won’t say it, but you can feel that they are proud of your work. Nothing will make you happier.
Indeed, you will come to realize that working at JPL is not just exciting—it is deeply meaningful. Not simply because we build cool spacecraft. We do so to seek answers to the most fundamental questions of humanity – the questions about our existence. How did the universe start? How did life emerge? Are we alone in the universe? You will soon start asking these questions. And they will stick in your mind.
Well, answering those questions won’t make anyone materialistically rich. It won’t save people suffering from poverty or diseases. But always be true to your heart. There are things humans must do even if they will never make money.
Would you think I’m crazy if I told you I’ll leave JPL?
Why?
Not because your dream will change—but because JPL will.
In the late 2010s, as JPL is getting ready for the Perseverance rover, the sentiment of the lab will be to go beyond Mars next. To go find life on the icy moons of Jupiter and Saturn. You will have the chance to work on the Europa Lander mission, which would sample the ice and look for signs of alien life. You will be incredibly excited. But you will lose the opportunity – eventually because the mission will be canceled due to a ripple effect of the 2018 election.
But that will be okay. An even bigger opportunity will come to you: the snakebot for Enceladus that I mentioned. It will still be early-stage research, but if all goes well, the robot will get there in the 2040s. You will be hyper excited, imagining that you might see an alien ocean—and perhaps even alien life—within your lifetime!
But that, too, will be discontinued because, as you will be told, it is “too far.”
Over the next few years, JPL will go through painful changes. There will be multiple rounds of major layoffs, and many friends who shared your dream will have to leave.
In response, JPL will have to turn inward—toward near-term businesses. I don’t blame the lab; no one wants to see more layoffs. But as a result, much of the focus will shift to the Moon.
Don’t get me wrong. I am genuinely excited about the Moon. You will grow up reading about Apollo endlessly, building paper models, and playing Neil Armstrong. In fact, just last week, Artemis 2, the first crewed mission to the Moon since Apollo 17, came back to Earth. (Yes, you’ve heard it right. Humans won’t go back to the Moon until 2026.) I followed the Artemis news every day, as you did for Voyager. You will get involved in some of those lunar opportunities, and you will love them. But you will know they are not your ultimate destination.
At the same time, the broader space landscape will change. In 1989, most missions are led by governments like NASA. But in 2026, new commercial companies you’ve never heard of will launch rockets almost every day. It is truly marvelous. So, naturally, JPL will pursue partnerships in this new ecosystem. You will be part of that effort, and you will definitely enjoy it. But much of it will be driven by what is economically viable, rather than by fundamental questions like the origin of life or the universe.
And yet, you are stubborn—more than you realize. Despite all the exciting new opportunities in Artemis and commercial space, your heart will remain far beyond Mars: on the icy moons, on Neptune and Triton, and even beyond. The dream you found in Voyager 2 will never let you go.
So, last Friday, I told my boss that I would leave JPL. But to be honest, I feel that it is JPL who is leaving me.
So, where will you go?
Academia will be your natural path. You are a researcher at heart, and it will give you the freedom to chart your own course.
So you will interview with several universities and pitch your dream. And luckily, you will find a place that truly resonates with it and provides full support for it: the Aerospace Department at Georgia Tech, in a city called Atlanta. (By the way, it will be the city to host the 1996 Olympic Games – and Japan will do great in judo, but I shouldn’s spoil too much:) )
And what will you – and I – do at Georgia Tech?
The answer is simple: continue your dream.
I will build robots that boldly go where none have gone before, seeking answers to some of humanity’s most fundamental questions—just as Voyager did.
Georgia Tech will buy me a big freezer container. It will be Enceladus in Atlanta. And I’ll build robots that walk on ice, descend into crevasses, and ultimately reach the subsurface ocean in search of life. I want to see such a mission in my lifetime. And it will never be “too far” because I don’t have much of my lifetime left. (You might not believe it, but 40 years will pass in a moment. And the next 40 will too.)
These robots must be extraordinarily intelligent. So, I will also work on AI. It may sound unbelievable in 1989, but by 2026, AI will drive cars and solve your math homework. (Still—you MUST study math, OK?) I want to harness this amazing power for future spacecraft.
And I hope to test these robots and AI algorithms on the Moon in the next few years. As I said, the lunar exploration is exciting on its own. But the Moon is also an ideal proving ground because it is just 3 days away.
And in the next few years, I hope to test these robots and AI systems on the Moon. As I said, lunar exploration is exciting in its own right—but it is also an ideal proving ground, just three days away from the Earth.
Of course, academia is no wonderland over the rainbow where troubles melt like lemon drops. Funding for scientific space exploration is scarce. So I will likely work on the Moon, collaborate with commercial partners, and even take on non-space projects. That’s fine—I will enjoy it, as I did at JPL. The extra leeway in academia will hopefully help me navigate these rough waters toward our ultimate dream. And most of all, I am truly looking forward to working with fresh, imaginative young minds.
So yes, I will leave JPL. But I will not leave your dream. And in some sense, I will carry JPL with me.
I hope you are excited. But I also understand that you are still mad at me for leaving JPL.
I’ll write to you again in 5 or 10 years—and I hope, by then, I’ll be a little closer to our ultimate dream.
Sincerely yours,
Your forty-three-year-old self, on April 19, 2026