On Saturday, China became the third nation to pull off a soft landing on the Moon’s surface, a feat not seen since the Soviet Union’s final Luna mission in 1976. China’s achievement capped a remarkable month of space news, coming the same day as the Iranian government’s announcement that it had recovered a second monkey from space and just a few weeks after India’s Mars orbiter, Mangalyaan, left Earth’s orbit for the Red Planet.

Like their Cold War predecessors, the Chinese, Iranian, and Indian governments all see their space programs as proxies for national status. China, whose participation in the International Space Station has been blocked by the U.S., takes particular pride in its manned space program at a time when the United States lacks the means to send its own astronauts into space. With monkeys, Moon shots, and missions to Mars, it seems fair to ask: is a new space race underway?

Well, no. Not unless a one-sided race counts. Neither American nor European politicians appear to be eager to enter into a space competition against the Chinese—or, for that matter, anyone else. But in an odd way, this too feels like a page out of the late 1950s playbook, when President Dwight Eisenhower steadfastly refused to see “a race” while Nikita Khrushchev crowed over a series of Soviet satellite launches and the first lunar probes. Eisenhower never regretted this position; he slept soundly knowing that the Soviet Union’s space spectaculars disguised that country’s limited nuclear strike capability.

Where Eisenhower erred was in underestimating the damaging effects of the Soviet space program on American prestige. The Soviet triumphs rattled America's allies, who counted on the United States’ reputation as a leader in science and technology. It took the media-savvy John F. Kennedy to commit the United States to a bona fide space race that ultimately sent 12 astronauts to the surface of the Moon and restored global confidence in American science and technology.

Eisenhower and Kennedy’s different approaches go a long way toward explaining why so many present-day commentators wonder if the United States and Europe should be panicking about a space race, despite the fact that NASA and the European Space Agency have a long and accomplished record in both manned and unmanned space exploration. It would nevertheless be a mistake to apply the logic of the Cold War to the contemporary politics of space. The psychological power of the last space race came from being first. With the exception of a manned mission to Mars—an expedition that no space agency has yet to fully embrace—none of the current space programs offer dramatic new accomplishments. Instead, they promise incremental advances to scientific knowledge and technology. They might best be interpreted as proof of basic technical mastery, a claim to a seat at the space table.

NASA and ESA have already demonstrated their competence in spades. If there’s a challenge in Chinese, Indian, and Iranian ambitions in space, it’s in confronting that very complacency. Neither NASA nor ESA currently have their own craft for human spaceflight; both organizations rely on Russian Space Agency Soyuz capsules to ferry their astronauts to and from the International Space Station. While the United States hopes to launch an unmanned version of its next-generation Orion vehicle in 2014, the spacecraft won’t be cleared to carry humans until at least 2020. In the meantime, the United States hopes to rely on Space X, a private contractor, whose Dragon capsule has already successfully docked with the ISS (without passengers).

Even NASA’s planetary exploration missions—flagship operations like the Mars Curiosity rover and Cassini, the Saturn orbiter—are under threat from lack of sustained political attention. The proposed NASA budget for 2015 includes no additional funding for robotic missions, despite new projects on the books, and fear is rampant among the space science community that one or the other of these projects will be cut.

Americans and Europeans might respond to the growing number of space states with apathy, alarm, or excitement. But American politicians in particular would be wise to remember that this is a situation at least in part of their making. By barring Chinese participation in the ISS and prohibiting bilateral agreements between NASA and the Chinese National Space Administration, the U.S. Congress has pushed China toward going it alone.

The challenges of space exploration—whether manned or robotic, focused on Earth, the Moon, or other planets—are too daunting and expensive for such a chauvinistic approach. International collaborations in space are good for science and good for international relations. Instead of closing ranks, NASA and the ESA should welcome the space ambitions of a new group of rising powers. After all, they offer resources—public enthusiasm and a willingness to fund—currently in short supply.

Audra J. Wolfe is a writer, editor and historian based in Philadelphia. She tweets as @ColdWarScience.