Once again, though, you are misunderstanding the bigger picture. Nothing was ever said about one affects the other directly. This side topic is about, lack of wisdom in priorities. I did not have to pick on the issue with homeless children in our K-12. Could have brought up any number of numerous basic societal issues we have that demonstrate the poor prioritization of funding that in this case, go to cosmological projects that do nothing to further the society in any practical way.
So the problem highlighted is not this vs. that, but that overall our society does not prioritize its resources very wisely. As a result, we have homeless children in schools, more than 1/10th of our people living in poverty (which is really bad as for some reason the Federal Govt thinks that a single adult making $13k/yr is not in a poverty situation), etc. So we spend billions on silly cosmological endeavors when people are dying from hunger right here where we live, and some can't get health care, etc., etc. If you want to bring the analogy home more closely, the current situation is like all the cars breaking down in your household and you cannot fix any of them because the necessary household income to affect the repairs is being earmarked to buy a lot of popcorn. Very wise! Basically if a person in your community is homeless or in poverty or dying because they cannot get medical insurance, then how can anyone argue that it is still ok to spend billions to figure out a little better what may have happened at the Big Bang, or exactly what the gasses are in an exoplanet we can never reach (with current technology will take 80,000 years to get to nearest star).
I understand the bigger picture just fine.
In 1831, the British Admiralty commissioned a hydrographic survey of the coastline, harbors, anchorages, and river mouths of the area around Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. The idea was to create charts that could aid the navigation and replenishment of ships crossing from the Atlantic to the Pacific along the southern tip of South America. On this ship's previous journey, its captain had suffered a mental breakdown due to the lonely and difficult conditions, and had committed suicide. The new captain, fully aware of those conditions, and prohibited by naval law from forming friendships with any of the crew, decided to find a gentleman of appropriate social rank who would not be part of the crew to accompany him for companionship. He also hoped that the companion would have some training in geology to assist in understanding some of the terrain they would encounter.
He had difficulty finding anyone to take the position. After asking for help from a network of acquaintances in the British scientific community, they finally convinced a young man, a medical school dropout who's main passion was collecting beetles, but who had also had a recent field trip in geology that he'd found interesting, and who's future was likely to consist of a life as a country parson. After meeting him, the captain had serious reservations, among other things the shape of his nose implied a lack of determination.
The captain and his companion got along for the most part, but had some major disputes on such topics as slavery, to which the young gentleman was adamantly opposed. There were long intervals where they would not speak to each other, which somewhat undermined the purpose of the young man's presence in the first place. He also had long bouts of seasickness and fevers, which made him not very companionable anyway.
While the ship conducted its research of unquestionably practical subjects, the young man, by now the unofficial but acting naturalist aboard occupied himself looking for fossils, hypothesizing about the geologic history of the landscape, and collecting specimens of the local plants and animals. Much of what he found interesting was considered rubbish by the rest of the crew. When the ship stopped in the Galapagos Islands, he found himself fascinated by the different beak shapes of the finches he found on the various islands.
All of this was very interesting, but none of it promised any practical social benefit. There could be little more esoteric than the study of the beak shapes of small birds of remote Pacific Islands. It was the kind of thing an eccentric, wealthy gentleman might be expected to do, obtain a collection as a form of travelogue, have curiosities that he could point to as evidence of his adventurous nature as a young man.
But Charles Darwin was not your average eccentric gentleman. Those esoteric observations and collections became the basis for a serious study, and even more serious theory, one that a few decades later would rock the scientific world, and eventually help to reshape society itself. Today, Darwin's theory of evolution forms the bedrock of modern biology, without which none of what we know about genetics, ecology, biochemistry, or epidemiology makes any sense. Nobody, not even Darwin himself, would have predicted that his observations on finch's beaks would have brought incalculable benefits to the world in coming years.
A story about the English scientist Michael Faraday illustrates the point. In his time, he was an enormously popular lecturer, as well as a physicist and chemist of the first rank. In one of his lectures in the 1840s, he illustrated the peculiar behavior of a magnet in connection with a spiral coil of wire which was connected to a galvanometer that would record the presence of an electric current.
There was no current in the wire to begin with, but when the magnet was thrust into the hollow center of the spiral coil, the needle of the galvanometer moved to one side of the scale, showing that a current was flowing. When the magnet was withdrawn from the coil , the needle flipped in the other direction, showing that the current was now flowing the other way. When the magnet was held motionless in any position within the coil, there was no current at all, and the needle was motionless.
At the conclusion of the lecture, one member of the audience approached Faraday and said, “Mr. Faraday, the behavior of the magnet and the coil of wire was interesting, but of what possible use can it be?” Faraday answered politely, “Sir, of what use is a newborn baby?”
That little useless experiment was, of course, the beginning of the art of generating electricity, which civilization now depends on for its very existence, without which billions would die miserably.
So the bigger picture, which you yourself are the one missing, is that you have no way of determining the "wisdom" of priorities. You cannot tell in advance, you cannot pick and choose, to determine what discovery will be forever useless to mankind and which one will provide tremendous and unexpected benefits. Poverty is a terrible thing, but in actual fact, the rise of science as a priority in the world's endeavors has been correlated with a drastic decrease in the amount of poverty. Scientific research is not popcorn.
If you feel otherwise, and are so concerned about the wisdom in our priorities, then I suggest you sell all of your astro gear and books, give the proceeds to charity, and get off the internet and rid yourself of computers and phones, since they take up valuable energy that could have gone to the poor.