In the quiet routine of data review, NASA scientist Robert Wagner encountered something the moon had kept hidden until now: a crater 728 feet wide, born from a collision that statistical models say happens only once every 132 years. The discovery, made from images captured in spring 2024 by the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, reminds us that even the most familiar objects in our sky still hold the capacity to surprise — and that science, at its most profound, often begins not with grand ambition but with someone simply paying close attention.
NASA scientist discovers massive new moon crater in routine data check
A one-in-a-lifetime observation, the kind of event a scientist might work an entire career without witnessing.
So Wagner was just doing routine work and happened to spot this? That seems almost lucky.
It does, but the LRO is designed to catch exactly this kind of thing. It images the whole moon every two weeks, so the data is there—someone just has to look at it carefully. Wagner was doing a quality check when he noticed the anomaly.
Right, but how many quality checks happen? How many scientists are looking at this data? The luck is partly that Wagner was the one who happened to be checking that particular region at that particular time.
The crater is 728 feet wide. How do we know it formed between April and May 2024 specifically?
They compared images from before and after. The LRO has a continuous record, so if a crater appears in May images but wasn't there in April, you can narrow the window pretty tightly.
That's a two-month window, though. We know it happened sometime in there, but not the exact date. And we're inferring the impactor size from the crater size—we didn't observe the impact itself.
The statistic about once every 132 years—where does that come from?
That's from crater production models, mathematical predictions based on what we know about the lunar impact rate and how impacts scale with size. It's not an observation; it's a calculation.
Exactly. It's a model. A good one, probably, but models can be wrong. We should be clear about what that number actually represents.
So this is genuinely rare, but we can't be certain how rare.
Right. We know it's big and we know big impacts don't happen often. The 132-year figure is the best estimate we have, but the underlying data is still being refined.
And the moon is still being hit all the time. We just found this one because it was big enough to see and someone was looking at the right data at the right time.
Le Pouls
- A six-story-building-sized asteroid struck the moon sometime between April and May 2024, leaving a wound twice the width of a football field and deeper than three school buses stacked upright.
- The impact was so statistically rare — expected only once every 132 years — that its discovery in a single scientist's lifetime borders on the extraordinary.
- Wagner's find demanded immediate investigation, ultimately earning publication in Science Advances and signaling to the broader scientific community that something genuinely unusual had occurred.
- The Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter's 14-day imaging cycle made the detection possible, yet its resolution limit of roughly 30 feet means the full scale of lunar bombardment remains beyond our sight.
- The crater arrives in a year already marked by renewed human lunar ambition and an errant rocket's impact, sharpening the reminder that the moon is not a static relic but a dynamic, active world.
In the quiet routine of data review, NASA scientist Robert Wagner encountered something the moon had kept hidden until now: a crater 728 feet wide, born from a collision that statistical models say happens only once every 132 years. The discovery, made from images captured in spring 2024 by the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, reminds us that even the most familiar objects in our sky still hold the capacity to surprise — and that science, at its most profound, often begins not with grand ambition but with someone simply paying close attention.
Robert Wagner was running a routine data quality check on images from NASA's Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter when something in the frames brought him to a halt. There, documented between mid-April and late May of 2024, was a crater his team had never seen before — and not a modest one.
The object that created it was roughly the size of a six-story building. The collision it produced left a scar 728 feet across and 141 feet deep — more than twice the span of a football field, deeper than three school buses standing end to end. Crater production models suggest an impact of this scale strikes the moon only once every 132 years, making Wagner's observation something a scientist might spend an entire career never encountering. The discovery was significant enough to warrant publication in Science Advances.
The Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter has been methodically photographing the moon's entire surface every 14 days for 17 years. Because the moon has no atmosphere or weather to erode its features, every mark endures — and the orbiter has catalogued roughly 1,000 new craters and more than 100,000 surface changes in that time. Still, the instrument can only resolve features 30 feet wide or larger, leaving the true scope of lunar bombardment permanently out of reach.
That this crater appeared in 2024 — a year already charged with renewed human interest in the moon and the unplanned arrival of an abandoned rocket — only deepens the sense that our nearest neighbor remains far more alive and unknowable than its ancient, scarred face might suggest.
Robert Wagner was doing what he'd done countless times before—checking data quality from NASA's Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter—when something stopped him cold. There on the moon's surface, in images captured between mid-April and late May of 2024, was a crater his team had never documented before. Not a small one. A massive one. Wagner, a NASA scientist, abandoned whatever else was on his desk and began investigating.
The moon's face is ancient and heavily scarred. More than two million craters pock its surface, the vast majority of them formed billions of years ago, long before humans had instruments to observe them. Finding a new large crater is rare enough that when it happens, the scientific community takes notice. This one warranted publication in Science Advances.
The impact that created it came from an object roughly the size of a six-story building, traveling at speeds that made size almost irrelevant. The collision left a wound 728 feet across—more than twice the width of a football field—and 141 feet deep, a depth equivalent to three school buses standing end to end. By the standards of lunar geology, this was extraordinary. According to crater production models, an impact of this magnitude occurs on the moon only once every 132 years. Wagner's discovery, then, represented something statistically singular: a one-in-a-lifetime observation, the kind of event a scientist might work an entire career without witnessing.
The Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter has been circling the moon for 17 years, systematically imaging its entire surface every 14 days. That relentless schedule means NASA maintains a continuous record of change on a world with no atmosphere to erode its features, no weather to soften its edges. Every impact, every shift in the regolith, remains visible indefinitely. In its nearly two decades of operation, the orbiter has detected roughly 1,000 new impact craters and more than 100,000 other surface changes. But the instrument can only resolve features about 30 feet wide or larger, which means countless smaller impacts go unrecorded, leaving the true total of lunar bombardment unknowable.
What made Wagner's discovery particularly striking was its sheer size. Large craters do not appear frequently. They do not arrive every year or even every decade. The timing of this one—arriving in 2024, during a year when the moon had already hosted human visitors for the first time in half a century and absorbed an abandoned SpaceX rocket—underscored how active the lunar environment remains, how much we still have to learn about our nearest neighbor, and how fortunate Wagner was to be the one holding the data when the evidence of this ancient collision finally came into view.
Citations marquantes
I just stopped, dropped everything, and started looking into what that spot was.— Robert Wagner, NASA scientist
This event constitutes a statistically rare, effectively one-in-a-lifetime observation.— Robert Wagner, in Science Advances article