
On Nov. 1, 2024 I embarked on a mission with three other crew members to discover what life on Mars could be like. But instead of launching into space, we walked into a 650-square-foot closed habitat at NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston for Human Exploration Research Analog (HERA) Mission 7. The mission’s goal is to understand the physical and psychological effects of isolation and confinement on astronauts, as well as communication delays that may happen in space.
I have always been interested in spaceflight and initially wanted to be an astronaut when I was younger. As supervisor for NASA’s Cybersecurity Mission Integration Office, volunteering for a HERA mission allowed me to live out this dream and contribute to scientific research that will mitigate risks for future astronauts. I also hoped to share lessons learned with my organization to inform how we support missions with our services.
For 45 days, my team members and I were confined to a cylindrical habitat, and lived and worked like astronauts according to a schedule prepared by Mission Control. After we closed the door, we couldn’t receive any outside tools for the duration of our mission — the same as future astronauts on their way to Mars. We needed to be careful with our equipment and ration our supplies, including a major essential: instant coffee. Two floors of our habitat were dedicated to working and another was for sleeping.
Every day we’d wake up at 7 a.m. and I’d turn on the lights (my military background meant I was usually awake first) as Mission Control played music we pre-selected. Then we’d typically take our biometric measurements, such as checking our temperature and weight. After completing morning activities, we’d eat breakfast as a crew. Daily tasks included paired activities related to scientific research or individual tasks performing maintenance.
We’d exercise six days a week and even our showers were scheduled. During any extra time, we’d clean, do laundry in a small wash basin or relax by watching a streaming service. We’d read books that we each brought as part of our personal items, which were limited to about the size of a carry-on suitcase. Every evening our crew ate dinner together, spent time chatting and got ready for bed. I’d often listen to music on an old-school iPod I bought on eBay before the trip, as we weren’t allowed to bring anything with wireless connectivity into the habitat.
In many ways, life during the mission was similar to an average person’s day. But the tight space and isolation were far from the norm. With Mission Control being our only outside contact, we had to rely on each other.
My background in technology meant that I fixed a lot of hardware and software bugs that came up in mission. There was even an entire day when we lost network access. We worked closely with Mission Control to pivot to alternate methods of completing our research.
As a crew we were challenged with maintaining morale and teamwork in the face of confinement and isolation. We celebrated every seven days we made it through the mission by hanging up numbers cut out of construction paper. We observed holidays as best we could, but Thanksgiving was a tough one for most of us. We looked out for and checked in with each other. We had a remarkably empathetic crew — something that will be important for astronauts during farther space exploration. We all gave each other room when we needed it (or at least as much as we could, considering our cramped conditions). And when someone needed to talk or be distracted, we were quick to make friendly conversation or pull out a deck of cards to play a game.
My biggest challenge was the lack of communication with my family. Not knowing how things were at home was hard, particularly because my daughter was getting ready to start college in the spring, and I knew it would be tough for her without me there to help.
Astronauts will not only need to have the scientific and technological knowledge to command space vehicles, but also the mental fortitude to maintain a high standard of work ethic in the face of isolation and confinement. They’ll need good emotional awareness to work in tight quarters with each other and with limited privacy.
But each moment of the mission that was hard was easily surmountable. It was the accumulation of many events that became challenging. I have an even deeper appreciation for the dedication of astronauts, who not only put their lives in danger, but also persevere through these challenges. And this experience serves as a reminder of why this work is important.
The investment in human space exploration is an investment in hope. It’s hope for future generations — hope that we will progress to the point of being able to explore our solar system and beyond. I did this mission with no expectation that I’ll live to see the benefits of the results. I can only hope that we work together as humans for the common purpose of furthering scientific discovery and exploration and, ultimately, gain more understanding of why we are here and where we came from.
Tiffany Snyder ’18MS is supervisor for Cybersecurity Mission Integration at NASA. She earned a master’s in digital forensics from UCF.