The Schiaparelli module was designed to land safely on the surface of Mars (artist’s impression), but seems to have crashed on impact on 19 October. Credit: ESA/ATG medialab

Landing a space probe on another planet could never be described as routine, but the mood at the European Space Agency (ESA) ahead of its Mars-landing attempt last week did seem unusually calm. Despite the mission being explicitly labelled a test of Europe’s ability to master some complex technologies (or perhaps because it was only a test), there was little of the anxiety that often accompanies a Mars touchdown. Perhaps this confidence permeated through to the lander, which, after letting go of its parachute, seems to have mistakenly believed it was safe on the ground, and turned off its braking thrusters with at least 2 kilometres to go.

As Nature went to press, space-agency officials remained reluctant to say the probe had crashed. But it seems safe to say that a glitch in a sensor or computer meant that Schiaparelli covered the remaining distance somewhat quicker than expected, and arrived with the velocity of a bullet train. Indeed, NASA’s Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter has spotted what seems to be a 15-metre-by-40-metre impact zone.

ESA has little time to mourn. The mission was part of ExoMars, a wider two-part programme run jointly with the Russian space agency, Roscosmos. It was supposed to demonstrate the ability to land on Mars ahead of a second planned trip, an ambitious rover mission scheduled for 2020, and the coming months will now see frenetic activity to piece together exactly what went wrong with the landing and what can be done to fix it. Anxiety is back, which is no bad thing.

In the days after the crash, ESA’s public message was achingly positive. Director-general Johann-Dietrich Wörner and a series of press releases sought to focus public attention on both the success of Schiaparelli’s mothership — the Trace Gas Orbiter, which entered orbit around Mars on the same day as the crash — and the fact that the lander sent back enough data to both study what went right and diagnose what went wrong (in contrast, for example, to the ESA-operated but British-led Beagle 2, which disappeared on Christmas Day 2003; its fate could not be determined until it was spotted on the surface some 11 years later).

Such positive spin cannot distract from a spacecraft crash — even one billed as a test. But ESA scientists are correct that the mission was largely a success. For a start, the orbiter is the more scientifically important part: it is intended to track the intriguing origins of Martian methane, and to act as a communications relay for the 2020 rover. As for Schiaparelli, there is no doubt that it is better for the test device to crash and to provide lessons, than for some fatal flaw to emerge only during the landing of the much more expensive rover or any other future mission.

In space exploration, failure goes hand in hand with progress.

Still, in two short months, ESA directors will have to explain the very public failure of the landing as they discuss the future of the 2020 mission at this year’s ministerial council. Technologically, there should be no problem. Although investigations are still under way, so far all signs point to the failure being something that will be relatively quick and easy to put right. But politically, there is danger. The mission still needs around another €300 million (US$326 million) from the public purse.

At least publicly, Wörner is stubbornly optimistic about how little effect the crash could have on ministers’ willingness to stump up the cash. Asked about this at a press briefing, Wörner said he saw no reason for ministers to view the 2016 mission as any less of a success than he does. Behind the scenes, however, scientists are more nervous. With austerity continuing to reign across Europe, politicians may be wary of committing millions more to a venture whose risk seems to have shot up.

But ministers would be wrong to hesitate. Not only because experience from Schiaparelli’s crash will aid the ExoMars 2020 landing, but because in something as absurdly hard as space exploration, failure goes hand in hand with progress. ESA’s recent string of successes — including the pioneering Rosetta comet mission and a proto­type gravitational-wave detector, the LISA pathfinder — may have made such feats look easy, but about half of attempts to land on Mars fail, and the margin between failure and success can be miniscule.

So far, only NASA has successfully landed and operated on Mars (the Soviet probe Mars 3 reached the surface in 1971, but transmitted for only 20 seconds). Although Schiaparelli’s failure means that Europe can’t yet claim to have joined NASA in the big leagues, without missions such as ExoMars 2020, it never will. ESA has a budget less than one-third the size of NASA’s, but its ambitions are growing, and the European population is no less hungry for science and exploration than is its US counterpart. Failure should not be a reason to draw back, but an impetus to push forward.