Category Mars Wars

To make the case that the failure of SEI was not inevitable, this study employs two theoretical models to guide the narrative analysis of how the initiative reached the government agenda and what factors led to its ultimate demise. John Kingdon’s Policy Streams Model describes how problems come to the attention of policy makers, how agendas are set, how policy alternatives are generated, and why policy windows open.[3] This theory will be utilized to develop the story of SEI’s rise and fall, and will more specifically be used to assess who the important actors are within the space policy community. Frank Baumgartner and Bryan Jones’s Punctuated Equilibrium Model depicts the policy process as comprising long periods of stability, which are interrupted by predictable periods of instability that lead to major policy changes.[4] This model will be utilized to provide a better understanding of the larger trends that led to SEI s promotion to the government agenda and may explain its eventual downfall.[5] These two models contributed a number of descriptive statistics that were used to develop a collection of lessons learned from the SEI experience.

In 1972, Michael Cohen, James March, and Johan Olsen introduced Garbage Can Theory in an article describing what they called “organized anarchies.” The authors emphasized the chaotic character of organizations as loose collections of ideas as opposed to rational, coherent structures. They found that each, organized anarchy was composed of four separate process streams: problems, solutions, partici­pants, and choice opportunities. They concluded that organizations are “a collection of choices looking for problems, issues and feelings looking for decision situations in which they might be aired, solutions looking for issues to which they might be the answer, and decision makers looking for work.” Finally, a choice opportunity was:

…a garbage can into which various kinds of problems and solutions are dumped by participants as they are generated. The mix of garbage in a single can depends on the mix of cans available, on the labels attached to the alternative cans, on what garbage is currently being produced, and on the speed with which garbage is collected and removed from the scene.

Therefore, the three found that policy outcomes are the result of the garbage avail­able and the process chosen to sift through that garbage.[6]

In his classic tome Agendas, Alternatives and Public Policies, John Kingdon applies the garbage can model to develop a framework for understanding the policy pro­cess within the federal government. He found that there were three major process streams in federal policy making: problem recognition; the formation and refine­ment of policy proposals; and politics. Kingdon concludes that these three pro­cess streams operate largely independent from one another. Within the first stream, various problems come to capture the attention of people in and around govern­ment. Within the second stream, a policy community of specialists concentrates on generating policy alternatives that may offer a solution to a given problem. Within the third stream, phenomena such as changes in administration, shifts in partisan or ideological distributions in Congress, and focusing events impact the selection of different policy alternatives. Kingdon argues that the key to gaining successful policy outcomes within this “organized anarchy” is to seize upon policy windows that offer an opportunity for pushing one’s proposals onto the policy agenda. Taking advantage of these policy windows requires that a policy entrepreneur expend the political capital necessary to join the three process streams at the appropriate time.[7] Kingdon’s model provided a useful structure for assessing the role of the policy community in placing SEI on the government agenda and formulating alternatives to solve a perceived problem—a lack of strategic direction within the American space program. Furthermore, it provided benchmarks that were used to evaluate the flawed policy making process for the initiative. In particular, it provided an analytic tool for understanding why Vice President Quayle and Mark Albrecht were not able to successfully join the three process streams when a policy window opened for human exploration beyond Earth orbit.

In Agendas and Instability in American Politics, Frank Baumgartner and Bryan Jones introduce a punctuated equilibrium model of policy change in American politics, based on the emergence and recession of policy issues on the government agenda. This theory suggests that the policy process has long periods of equilibrium, which are periodically disrupted by some instability that results in dramatic policy change. Baumgartner and Jones describe “a political system that displays consider­able stability with regard to the manner in which it processes issues, but the stability is punctuated with periods of volatile change.” Within this system, they contend, the mass public is limited in its ability to process information and remain focused on any one issue. As a result, policy subsystems are created so that scores of agenda items can be processed simultaneously. Only in times of unique crisis and instability do issues rise to the top of the government agenda to be dealt with independently. At a fundamental level, the punctuated equilibrium model seeks to explain why the policy process is largely incremental and conservative, but is also subject to periods of radical change.[8]

Baumgartner and Jones argue that to understand the complexities of the policy making process, one must study specific policy problems over extended periods of time. To comprehend the policy dynamics of an issue, one must develop indicators that explain how the issue is understood. They introduce a new approach to policy research that attempts to meld the policy typology literature and the agenda status literature—the former based on cross-sectional comparisons of multiple public policy issues, the latter focused on longitudinal studies of a single issue over time. The new approach concentrates on the long-term trends related to interest in, and discussion of, important policy questions. In particular, they are interested in two related concepts, whether an issue is on the agenda of a given institution (venue access) and whether the tone of activity within that institution is positive or nega­tive (policy image).[9] The two utilize an eclectic group of measures to gauge venue access and policy image. Baumgartner and Jones’s model provided a useful method for understanding where SEI fits within the history of the American space program. More importantly, it provided a means to evaluate whether long-term space policy trends predetermined the initiative’s failed outcome.

In the six weeks following the creation of the Space Council, as the administra­tion was concentrating on other more pressing policy matters, no major actions were taken with regard to the future course of the space program. By the end of May, however, there was a flurry of activity to generate a policy initiative in prepara­tion for the Apollo 11 anniversary. On 25 May, Mark Albrecht called Admiral Truly to ask whether NASA could return to the Moon by the end of the century—in preparation for a Mars mission early in the next century. Albrecht was stunned by Truly’s response. “His first reaction was ‘don’t do it.’ NASA cannot handle this.” The NASA Administrator was unsure whether this request was simply Albrecht playing ‘what if’ games, or whether this was a serious proposition. As a result, he called Vice President Quayle, who confirmed that both he and President Bush wanted to know whether this was something NASA could accomplish. After consulting with Frank Martin, Director of NASA’s Office of Exploration, Truly concluded that there was [127] [128]

no way he could rebuff a presidential initiative. Albrecht recalled later “his initial impulse turned out to be quite revealing, because in the end, NASA couldn’t handle it.”[129] What is equally revealing, however, is the fact that nobody at the White House reconsidered the wisdom of announcing a new initiative given the agency’s reluc­tance.

After this interaction, the Space Council staff concluded that it needed to get a better sense of the correct technical approach to get back to the Moon on a per­manent basis and then on to Mars. To this end, Mark Albrecht set up a meeting for the end of the month with senior NASA leaders to discuss alternatives. On 31 May, Truly and Martin met to discuss a potential initiative. A few years later Martin recalled the discussion:

The nature of that conversation …was that going to the Moon [was] not the right answer. We have been to the Moon. If we are going to go to the Moon, we need to go back to stay. In the process of doing that, if you announce that you are going to go to the Moon and then go to Mars with humans, you had better be prepared to send robots along in the process.

Although he had signaled to Albrecht just days before that announcing any initia­tive at all was unwise, Admiral Truly was now supporting a much more aggressive (not to mention expensive) long-term exploration strategy. Later in the day, Truly, Martin, NASA Deputy Administrator J. R. Thompson, and former NASA Associate Deputy Administrator Philip Culbertson met with Albrecht to discuss proposals for a potential initiative. At this meeting, Truly told Albrecht that he “believed that the real program was Earth, Moon, and Mars as a total program strategy with both man and machines working together. It is that program that I think we need to proceed with.” Albrecht did not challenge the addition of Mars exploration to the initiative, even though his original inquiry had been limited to Moon exploration. By the end of the meeting, he had tasked NASA with preparing options and recommendations for a presidential decision to take advantage of the unique opportunity of July 20th and to achieve significant milestones by the end of the century.[130] Albrecht did not specifically ask NASA to consider the fiscal repercussions of a Moon-Mars initiative, although Admiral Truly made it clear this was not going to be cheap.[131]

With official direction from the White House, Admiral Truly moved quickly to establish a working group to pull together the alternatives for a Moon-Mars initia­tive. He immediately called NASA Johnson Space Center (JSC) Director Aaron Cohen and asked him to gather a group of experts to compile program concepts. Truly asked Cohen to keep this activity confidential in order to keep the space agen­cy’s efforts a secret. From a technical and programmatic perspective, Dr. Cohen was an excellent choice to lead this policy alternative generation process. He had joined the space program in 1962, serving as program manager for Project Apollo’s Com­mand and Service Module and the Space Shuttle Orbiter Project. Given his rich background with the human exploration program, Cohen was the logical choice to lead this effort. Furthermore, he was very enthusiastic about the initiative and believed it was a good thing for the entire country. He believed from the start, how­ever, that considerable monetary resources would be required to successfully imple­ment the program—not to mention a long-term commitment from the executive branch, the legislative branch, and the American public.[132]

Cohen assembled a small team that included Frank Martin, John Aaron, Mark Craig, Charles Darwin, Mike Duke, and Darrell Branscome—this became known as the Ad Hoc Working Group (AHWG).[133] On 4 June, just six weeks before the president was to deliver his address, the AHWG assembled at Johnson Space Center. Mark Craig, Director of the Lunar and Mars Exploration Office at JSC, remem­bered that because “Admiral Truly wanted to keep this extremely secret, for obvious reasons… Aaron Cohen found a building in the back lot of JSC that… was secure. So we set up headquarters back there. It already had computers in it. It was ready to move in. It was locked. So we basically set that up as our center of operations.” The goal of the team was to pour over the available information from the National Commission on Space, Ride Report, and Office of Exploration. Within two weeks, the AHWG was to develop a set of briefing charts that scoped out, in terms of cost and schedule, what would be required to return humans to the Moon by the year 2000. Frank Martin recalled that there was no effort to make it cheap, although there was some discussion about the feasibility of the initiative in the current politi­cal environment. Admiral Truly actually expressed his opinion that it was more important to “Do it right. Make sure we can do this. Make sure we understand the scope and magnitude of this program.”[134] This necessarily meant that the AHWG would not provide alternatives with different budget profiles, although Mark Albre-

cht had implicitly asked for multiple options. Instead, it would provide the Space Council with what it believed to be the right answer—regardless of cost. Although this didn’t cause considerable friction at this early point in the process, this agency approach would eventually lead to an increasingly bitter relationship with Vice Pres­ident Quayle and the Space Council staff.

The AHWG split up its work to create a long-term exploration strategy—Mark Craig led the technical analysis, John Aaron led the cost analysis, Darrel Branscome led the future planning analysis, Charles Darwin led the space transportation analy­sis, and Mike Duke led the science analysis. The vast majority of the work was done under Mark Craig’s leadership, utilizing his staff within the Lunar and Mars Explo­ration Office. The AHWG met as a consulting body, working to shape the various inputs from these engineers into a briefing for the White House.[135] There was some concern within the agency regarding the planning monopoly that had emerged. Douglas O’Handley, the Deputy Director of the Office of Exploration and a veteran of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) in California, remembered that the AHWG was a closed group composed almost exclusively of engineers from JSC. There was no effort to involve other NASA centers in this initial planning process. The envi­ronment within the agency during this period lacked the collegiality that had been experienced under the leadership of the Office of Exploration as agency-wide reports like “Beyond Earth Boundaries” were being drafted. O’Handley recalled that as the AHWG developed its plans, the JSC team clearly wanted as little JPL involvement as was possible. He became increasingly concerned as the planning moved forward because he felt “there was clearly a naivete about the impact of life sciences on the whole initiative. From my background, I was beginning to see holes in the fabric and things that JSC didn’t know much about falling to the side.”[136]

On 13 June, Mark Craig presented the AHWG program concept to Admiral Truly and Associate Administrator for Spaceflight Bill Lenoir at a secret meeting held in Washington, DC. The briefing, entitled “A Scenario for Human Explora­tion of the Moon and Mars,” proposed an approach that would start out with lunar activity and robotic missions—which would be precursors to Mars exploration. The AHWG approach required a sharp jump in the agency’s yearly appropriation, with stable annual investments for the life of the initiative. It was believed that after successfully establishing a lunar base and completing robotic precursor missions, a funding wedge would open providing the resources for Mars exploration.[137] The plan called for three phases of lunar development: emplacement, consolidation, and utilization. During the emplacement phase, extending from 2000 to 2004, a lunar station consisting of a base camp and science outpost would be assembled to house a crew of four on six-month tours of duty. It was expected that this initial capability could be accomplished with only six Shuttle-Cargo (Shuttle-C)[138] launches and a single crewed Shuttle launch. During the consolidation phase, extending from 2003 to 2006, a constructible habitat would be added to the lunar base—raising the crew size to eight and lengthening tours of duty to one year. During the utilization phase, extending from 2006 to 2017, a lunar oxygen production capability would increase crew size to 12 and lengthen tours of duty to three years—providing the capacity for significant scientific work and certification of Mars exploration hardware. As astro­nauts constructed and prepared the lunar station to be operational, NASA would begin robotic precursor missions to the red planet. These missions would conduct high-resolution imaging of the planetary surface, long-range surface roving, and return samples to scientists on Earth. The AHWG believed that crewed missions to Mars could begin in the 2015 timeframe, with a crew of four reaching the planet (after a Venus flyby) for a 100-day nominal stay in the Mars system—50 days on the surface. The intent was that successive missions would reach the Martian system faster, with longer surface stays up to two years for crews of five.[139]

The AHWG scenario was founded on a number of fundamental ideas regarding available technologies and infrastructure. First, the entire approach was based upon the assumption that Space Station Freedom (SSF) would be utilized as the hub for assembly work to construct lunar and Martian transfer vehicles. This required that a Shuttle-C be developed, capable of launching 68 metric-ton payloads into Earth orbit. Second, the strategy would eventually require reusable lunar transfer vehicles (LTV) and lunar excursion vehicles (LEV)—capable of conducting five missions without major maintenance before mandatory replacement. The LTV would utilize aero-braking technology for return to SSF, and a lunar fuel production capability would be initiated for LEV return to lunar orbit. Third, Mars exploration spacecraft would depart from Earth orbit after being assembled by astronauts stationed at SSF.

Fourth, production of liquid oxygen (LOX) on the lunar surface would be required to open a significant cost wedge for Mars exploration. Douglas O’Handley remem­bers that at this point the budget estimates for the entire program ranged from a low of $85 billion to a high of $365 billion. The $85 billion estimate included a lot of risk, while $365 billion incorporated significant redundancy to reduce risk. It was felt within the agency that “these costs, compared to the defense budget for one year, seemed reasonable for a 20 to 30 year endeavor.”[140] Although Bill Lenoir raised concerns regarding the necessary acceleration of space station construction to meet the objectives of the AHWG plan, the briefing was generally well received. No one expressed trepidation regarding the adoption of a program that would require a significant increase in the NASA budget, at a time when the federal government was in the midst of a serious fiscal crisis. Likewise, senior agency leaders did not question the complex and costly three-phase AHWG approach.

Two days later, the AHWG presented its proposal to Mark Albrecht. Mark Craig, who had never met Albrecht before, remembered being impressed with him. “The meeting…opened up with a monologue on why this was important and the problems that civilian space had had and was having, and that this was a way to fix them. I thought he was right on the money, having come from [the Space Station program, which] was suffering from a lack of definition of a strategic horizon.” The briefing highlighted the AHWG approach, which was: lunar base, robotic explora­tion of Mars, and human exploration of Mars. It also included links to Mission to Planet Earth (MTPE), which Albrecht requested be removed from the briefing because he feared it would muddle the Moon-Mars focus. Later in the day, Admiral Truly, Frank Martin, Craig, and J. R. Thompson traveled across town to brief Vice President Quayle in his office in the Old Executive Office Building.[141] Frank Martin recalled later that Admiral Truly introduced the briefing by stating that Mars was “the long-term goal. It wasn’t a program to go to Mars. It was a program to expand human presence [and] he talked about why it was important to do that.” After Tru – ly’s introduction, Martin presented the primary elements of the AHWG approach. He was forthright with regard to the estimated cost of the exploration program, which had risen to $400 billion. This revised budget number was partially driven by an Administration request that crew safety be placed at 99-9999%, which meant that the probability of an accident occurring that resulted in a loss of crew was once every million flights. This high level of safety led to additional cost.[142] The AHWG plan would require increasing the space agency’s budget by 10% annually until it

reached $25 to $30 billion—doubling the current appropriation.[143] Truly concluded the briefing by saying that NASA could not fulfill this mission without an increased budget that would provide the resources to hire essential personnel and construct new facilities. Frank Martin later remembered that:

[Quayle] was very interested. He was very friendly. He was wide-eyed and enthusiastic about it. He asked the kinds of questions you might expect to be asked from someone who is a non-technical type…the message I came away from that briefing at the White House [with] was the fact that for the first time in 20 years, somebody in the White House gave a damn about the Moon and Mars. That was what was very profound about it. He was willing to take the time and the effort to try to make something happen.

Overall, the NASA participants left the meeting with a very positive feeling that both Quayle and Albrecht would be willing to fight the necessary battles to make the exploration program work.[144]

The following day, Admiral Truly returned to the White House to meet with Chief of Staff John Sununu. Himself an engineer, Sununu moved through the brief­ing materials very quickly before signaling his support for the initiative. He told Truly that “investing in these kinds of things was good for the country and that he didn’t care who made the content of the program. It was the fact that they were doing it that was important.”[145] He said that he would leave the details to NASA, but that it wasn’t feasible for the space agency to get a further f 0% increase in the FY 1990 budget request. At the end of the meeting, Sununu made three requests. First, he wanted NASA to modify the program so that no money was required for the upcoming fiscal year. Second, he wanted the plan to be revised to present the President with options—not just lunar outpost, robotic Mars exploration, and Martian outpost. Many within NASA, most notably those outside JSC, thought that asking for additional alternatives “was absolutely the right thing to request.”[146] Finally, before the President made his speech, Sununu wanted the benefit of having others outside NASA review the proposed exploration program.[147]

Over the course of several weeks, Truly, Martin, Craig, and Darrell Branscome worked to refine the NASA proposal. They developed three different options for President Bush to consider:

• Lunar Outpost, then to Mars (NASA’s recommended approach)

– First crewed lunar landing in 2001 (crew of four, 30-day surface stay)

– Expansion to 8 crew capacity by 2005

– Expansion to 12 crew capacity by 2009 (1-year surface stay)

– First crewed Martian landing in 2016

• Direct to Mars

– First crewed Martian landing in 2008 (crew of four, 30-day surface stay)

– Expansion to 8 crew capacity by 2014

– Expansion to 12 crew capacity by 2018 (180-day surface stay)

• Robots Only

Due to the fact they could not expect any funding in FY 1990, the agency slipped the deadlines one year—so the Moon landing would not occur until 2001. Interest­ingly, based on NASA’s analysis, the Direct to Mars option did not entail a signifi­cant cost reduction. This option would still require the NASA budget to increase to nearly $30 billion annually, with a peak of over $35 billion during the late 1990s. As one chart in the final briefing indicated, this would represent a larger federal invest­ment (in real dollar terms) than Project Apollo and would raise the NASA share of the federal budget to 2.2%.[148] The agency did not provide any human exploration options that had significantly cheaper cost profiles.

Any discussion of human exploration of Mars must begin with a description of the reasons why this planetary destination has continually reemerged during the post-Apollo period as the “next logical step” for the American space program. Understanding the deep-rooted human interest in Mars provides some insight into the space program’s recurring focus on it as an objective for both robotic and human missions. Crewed Mars exploration has been seriously considered three times during the past 35 years, but our fascination with the red planet began a great deal earlier. For thousands of years, the human race has been drawn to Mars—our celestial neighbor fuels the imagination unlike any other planet in the solar system. Ancient humans examined the red planet as they attempted to unlock the mystery of the heavens. To primitive humans, the fourth planet from the sun was nothing more then a reddish point of light dancing across the night sky. Early civilizations gave it many names: the Egyptians called it Har decher (the Red One), the Babylonians named it Nergal (the Star of Death), the Greeks designated it Ares and the Romans called it Mars (both representing the God of War). While the early Babylonians made extensive astronomical observations, it was the Greeks that first categorized Ares as one of five wandering “planets” among the fixed stars (the others being Mercury, Venus, Jupiter, and Saturn). Greek astronomers observed that Ares did not always move from east to west, but sometimes moved in the opposite direc­tion. Due to the existing belief that the Earth was the center of the universe, this astronomical oddity would baffle sky watchers for centuries to come. By 250 B. C., Aristarchus of Samos had developed a complete heliocentric system that viewed Earth as an ordinary planet circling the sun once every year. This theory held the key to understanding the unusual movements of Ares. Later Greek and Roman astronomers did not follow Aristarchus’s lead, however, choosing to hold onto the geocentric system. Claudius Ptolemy made the greatest elaboration of this system during the second century A. D.—his geocentric model remained the predominant astronomical theory for more than a millennium.[10] [11]

Seventeen hundred years after Aristarchus first developed it, a Polish canon named Nicolaus Copernicus reintroduced the heliocentric model. Like Aristarchus, however, Copernicus could not exactly predict the motions of the planets using simple circular orbits. As a result, his contemporaries largely ignored his theories. While Copernicus had been primarily a theoretician, it would take two dedicated observational astronomers to discover the true movements of the planets—their names were Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler. Starting in 1576, Tycho spent 20 years studying the motions of the stars and planets, including Mars. In 1600, Kepler joined him and began examining the apparent retrograde motion of Mars. When Tycho died the next year, Kepler was appointed to succeed him as Imperial Math­ematician to the Holy Roman Emperor (although he was Lutheran).11

Using Tychos scrupulous observations, Kepler went to work trying to explain Mars’ apparent backward motion. Kepler argued that the planets revolved around the sun, but at different distances and therefore different speeds. While Earth orbited the sun in 365 days, it took Mars 687 days. Thus, the retrograde movement of Mars could be explained because the Earth was overtaking the slower-moving Mars. To an observer on Earth, it would appear that Mars was slowing down and then reversing course. Kepler proved, however, that this was simply an illusion. In 1609, Kepler published On the Motion of Mars, which expounded his first two laws of planetary motion—stating that planetary orbits about the Sun were elliptical (as opposed to circular as Aristarchus and Copernicus had assumed) and that a planets speed increases as it approaches the sun and decreases proportionally as it moves farther away. As a result of Tycho and Keplers observations and theories, the heliocentric system finally overcame Ptolemy’s geocentric model.[12]

In 1609, the same year that Kepler published On the Motion of Mars, Galileo Galilei made the first celestial observations with a telescope. The next year, after making observations of the Moon, Jupiter, and Venus, Galileo turned his telescope toward Mars. Due to the use of a relatively crude instrument, Galileos observations of Mars where not particularly informative—other than to suggest that the planet was not a perfect sphere. In 1659, Dutch astronomer Christian Huygens, using a considerably more advanced telescope, was able to detect the first surface feature on Mars. The dark triangular area that he observed over a period of months, which is today called Syrtis Major, allowed him to conclude that Mars rotated on its axis like the Earth. Seven years later, in 1666, Italian astronomer Giovanni Cassini began a series of observations and discovered the planets white polar caps.[13]

In 1783, astronomer William Herschel, who two years earlier had discovered the planet Uranus, made a series of observations of Mars and found that the planet was tilted at an angle of almost 24 degrees on its axis of rotation. This finding showed that like Earth, Mars had seasons; however, considering that a Martian year is almost double that of Earth, its seasons are nearly twice as long. Herschel also confirmed the existence of Mars’s polar caps, and postulated correctly that they were composed of ice. Finally, Herschel found that the planet had “a considerable but moderate atmosphere.”[14]

The revision process continued until just before Independence Day, after which the White House had arranged briefings for outside interest groups. For three days starting on 5 July, the Administration undertook a series of briefings to explain the Civil Space Exploration Initiative to four groups from outside the administration. The first group, which the White House labeled “Space Advocates,” was composed of influential members of the space policy community not affiliated with a par­ticular government agency or private sector company. This group included former Apollo 11 astronaut Mike Collins, Cal Tech professor Bruce Murray, former NASA Administrator Tom Paine, and President of the Planetary Society Louis Friedman.

The briefing, which was conducted in the Indian Treaty Room of the OEOB, was very well received. Mark Albrecht recalled that the group was “obviously excited about it, very enthusiastic.” Tom Paine, who had chaired the National Commis­sion on Space, was extremely supportive and stated that this was exactly the kind of strategic direction that the American space program needed. There were universal strong positive statements; the only thing that the advocates questioned was the appropriate balance between Moon and Mars exploration. Both Mike Collins and Bruce Murray had previously come out in favor of a direct to Mars approach, so they were a little uncomfortable with NASA’s recommendation to start with a return to the Moon. The rest of the group was largely in favor of NASA’s strategy.[149]

The second group was composed of representatives from the science community. Frank Martin later remembered that this group was very supportive, “they were enthusiastic about it more than I would have imagined. They [agreed that] this is the right thing. And doing [the] Moon and then Mars is the right way to do it. It was pretty universal.”[150] Surprisingly, no one from this group made a strong argument in favor of solely robotic exploration, perhaps sensing that Vice President Quayle was strongly in favor of the Moon-Mars approach. The third group was composed of chief executive officers from major U. S. corporations—many who were important NASA contractors. Mark Albrecht recalled that “industry was excited…but they were nervous about what [existing] programs could get cut to fund it. Anytime you hit the reset button in Washington, you find that everyone gets very nervous.” Mark Craig remembered this being the most disappointing of the meetings because the level of industry support was not as robust as had been anticipated. The general reaction was that if the government wanted to do this, and was willing to put up the funding, then industry would get on board.[151] Douglas O’Handley recalled that the CEO’s were concerned that the U. S. did not have the technical manpower to carry SEI off, despite the fact the administration believed the initiative would pro­mote science and engineering education.[152] As a result, there were no impassioned speeches arguing that this was exactly the kind of bold long-term plan that the aerospace industry and national economy needed. Craig stated later, “I felt the Vice President was…knocked on his heels. He tried to elicit some kind of emotion and response from these people.”[153]

The final group, made up of key Congressional staffers, was by far the most dynamic. Mark Albrecht contends that during the Reagan administration the House “Appropriations Committee and the Appropriations staffers essentially ran the space program because NASA got no direction or interest out of the White House.. .the vacuum was filled by the appropriators.” As a result, this was by far the most skeptical group—they were doubtful about the White House taking a renewed interest in space policy making and were not convinced that selecting an expensive new initiative was the best approach for providing the space program with direc­tion. Led by Richard Malow, this group was most concerned about the potential budgetary impact of such a large undertaking. Malow was the most powerful staffer on the House Appropriations Subcommittee that funded NASA. Senator William Proxmire of Wisconsin had recently called him the space agency’s shadow admin­istrator’ because he had so much influence over national space policy.[154] Malow had been working on space policy issues since 1972, far longer than NASA’s senior lead­ership, and was well-known for pushing the space agency to emphasize affordable space science missions rather than expensive human exploration programs. In fact, a week earlier the Wall Street Journal had run a front-page article stating that while Malow “would love the U. S. to mount an expedition to the far side of the Moon and build a telescope there…such dreams are ‘moot’ because of the budget crunch. Instead…NASA [should] focus on more attainable goals.”[155]

At the White House briefing, Malow remembered his “…initial reaction was that maybe this is something that we ought to be doing, but I don’t think I jumped in and said ‘that’s the greatest idea in the world.’ And as I started to see the details of it, as they unfolded, I became concerned, especially given the budget situa­tion.”[156] The reactions of other staffers were much more animated. For example, Stephen Kohashi, an aide to Senator Jake Garn, asked the briefers, “have you lost your mind?”[157] Kohashi said later, “politics is the art of the possible, and so it is with budgetary politics. I recall being incredulous at the magnitude of the price tag [for] the proposed program…and feared that it would have no credibility or viability on Capitol Hill.”[158] In the end, no real champions emerged on the Congressional side. Instead, the meeting served to generate “a certain tension…between the Space

Council staff and the staffs of the various committees on the Hill.”[159] Malow recalled that one reason for this rising animus was the failure of the administration to con­sult with Congressional leaders as it was formulating a plan for the new human exploration program. Malow stated that such discussions would have led to “warn­ings about the overall budget situation, which is what we were concerned about. We may have tried to convince them that they needed to think it through a little bit more.”[160] Despite this unenthusiastic response from the Congressional staffers, who would ultimately have a great deal of influence regarding the actual adoption and implementation of SEI, the White House marched forward with its plans to announce the initiative.

Starting on 13 July, just a week before the president’s planned speech, Vice President Quayle and Admiral Truly began meeting with key members of Congress. These meetings were intended primarily to acquaint the legislators with the initia­tive before the President announced it nationally. That morning, the two briefed a group of Representatives and Senators with responsibility for space policy at a break­fast meeting. As with the Congressional staffers, the reactions were not wholly posi­tive. In particular, House Appropriation Committee Chair BobTraxler of Michigan wondered where the Administration was “coming from, we can’t afford this.. .we’ve got other things on our plate, outside NASA.”[161] A few days later, Quayle and Truly went to Capitol Hill to personally brief Senator Barbara Mikulski of Maryland, Chair of the Appropriations Subcommittee overseeing NASA’s budget—who had been unable to attend the breakfast meeting. Frank Martin remembered later, “she was very supportive. She said “the budgets are going to be tight [but] I am glad the Administration is finally taking an interest in space.” One final briefing was given to Senator Ernest Hollings of South Carolina, chair of Commerce, Science & Technology committee—once again, the White House received support for the program.[162] Regardless of the general support that the administration received from Mikulski and Hollings, the clear skepticism ofTraxler was more important. As chair of the House appropriations committee, he would have enormous influence over the actual adoption of this program. Therefore, even before it was announced, SEI faced a huge uphill battle to gain backing from Congress. As Malow indicated, this was at least partially because the White House did not consult with Capitol Hill during the formulation of the new plan. More important, however, was the fact that there were no great supporters for implementing an expensive new program given the fiscal crisis facing the nation.

Joining the Streams:

In 1877, Mars came to a perihelic opposition just 35 million miles from Earth. That year Asaph Hall, director of the U. S. Naval Observatory, turned that institu­tion’s 26-inch refractor telescope toward the red planet in search of satellites. In August, he discovered two small moons orbiting Mars, which he named Phobos (fear) and Deimos (flight)—these were Mars’ attendants in Homers Iliad. Hall con­tinued his observations for several months, using the data he acquired to make an estimate of the mass of Mars. His calculation of 0.1076 times that of Earth proved to be quite accurate (the current accepted value being 0.1074).[15]

While the discovery of two Martian moons was a significant astronomical find­ing, it was not the only important study of the planet that year. In Italy, the director of the Milan Observatory, Virginio Schiaparelli, spent the summer observing Mars with a fairly small, 8-inch telescope. During his study, he saw what he believed to be faint linear markings on the planet. His maps of the planet showed dark areas seem­ingly connected by a large system of long, straight lines. Schiaparelli called these lines canali, which in Italian means “channels” or “grooves.” However, another meaning of the word is “canal,” which seemed to indicate that intelligent beings may have constructed a water transport system on Mars. Schiaparelli himself tried to caution against jumping to this conclusion, but his observations fired the public’s imagination. As a result, French astronomer Camille Flammarion was justified in stating “[Schiaparelli’s] observations have made Mars the most interesting point for us in the entire heavens.”[16]

Nearly two decades later, an American named Percival Lowell began his famed observations of Mars. A Lowell biographer wrote that “of all the men through his­tory who have posed questions and proposed answers about Mars, [he was] the most influential and by all odds the most controversial.”[17] An amateur astronomer with a gift for mathematics, Lowell plunged into the field aspiring to complete Schiaparel­li’s earlier work. Using an inherited fortune, he constructed the Lowell Observatory (which had 18-inch and 12-inch telescopes) in the Arizona mountains near Flag­staff. During the summer and fall of 1894, Lowell studied Mars every night with unbounded enthusiasm. His maps of the planet displayed 184 canals, twice as many as Schiaparelli had portrayed. As a result of his observations, he announced to the world that there were indeed canals on Mars constructed by intelligent beings. In 1895, he published Mars, within which he vividly described his theories regarding the Martian canals and their builders.[18]

During the coming years, Lowell continued his observations of Mars. With each subsequent opposition, he became increasingly convinced that intelligent beings lived on Mars and had built the canals. Lowell also postulated that the shrinking of the white polar caps and the expansion of darker regions (which he believed to be vegetation) during the Martian summer indicated seasonal renewal. Despite his grand pronouncements, most astronomers were not convinced that his theories had any merit. Their criticism of Lowell was bolstered by the fact that many other astronomers, including Edward Barnard, had studied Mars with far more powerful telescopes and found no evidence of canals. Barnard wrote “I see details where some of his canals are but they are not straight lines at all.” It is now believed that Lowell’s canals were simply optical illusions produced because the human eye attempts to arrange scattered spots into aline. Despite the eventual erosion of his theories, how­ever, there is little doubt that Lowell’s declarations about extraterrestrial Martian life led to greatly increased public interest in the red planet.[19]

As these events were unfolding in Washington, President Bush was in Europe on a 10-day trip that included an address before the Polish National Assembly, a meeting with Solidarity leader Lech Walesa, a meeting with Hungarian leaders, and attendance at a G-7 summit in France. While he was away, Bush had essentially delegated decision-making responsibility for the exploration initiative to Vice Presi­dent Quayle. Over the course of the previous month, Bush had discussed the devel­opment of the exploration initiative with Quayle at several of their weekly lunch meetings, but the president had essentially let his vice president make all the critical decisions with regard to the strategic plan. One important facet of their discussions was whether the Administration should set a target date of 2010 for completion of a Moon base and 2020 for an expedition to Mars. Although this debate continued up until the last moment, the two ultimately decided against specific deadlines because they feared it would adversely impact future budget deliberations. By early July, the President had fully committed to the program.[163]

On 14 July, Quayle chaired a meeting of the full Space Council to discuss the forthcoming announcement of the exploration initiative. Mark Albrecht recalled that “everyone lined up, thought it was a great idea and made a recommendation to the President that he go ahead and do this.” Thus, when Bush arrived back in Washington two days before the speech, everything was already in place for him to announce the new plan.[164] Vice President Quayle wrote in his memoirs that if the agenda setting process for SEI sounded like a. .somewhat ad hoc, improvisational way to think about going to Mars, you’re right. But what was important right then was to think big, to put a bit of ‘the vision thing’ back into the program, to get people excited about it once again, even if that meant getting ahead of ourselves.” Quayle believed the only thing that would enliven the American people was a res­toration of wonder in the idea of sending people to explore space, not just orbit around the Earth.[165]

Before the new initiative was officially announced, the 17 July 1989 edition of Aviation Week and Space Technology (AW&ST) broke the story that a secret White House review was considering a human lunar base and Mars initiative. The article opened by stating, “A sharp debate has been sparked within the Bush Administra­tion and Congress by Vice President Dan Quayle’s proposal that President Bush commit the U. S. this week to developing a manned lunar base as a stepping-stone to a manned flight to Mars. Under the proposal, the U. S. could build a lunar outpost by 2000-2010 and use the experience gained on the moon to develop that capability to mount a manned Mars mission by 2020.” The magazine reported that Quayle had been formulating the initiative in secret meetings with a group of NASA offi­cials, Mark Albrecht, and White House Chief of Staff John Sununu. Administration officials were quoted as saying that President Bush would not make a Kennedy-style call for reaching Mars within a specific timeframe, instead endorsing “the lunar base and manned Mars concepts as overall 21st century goals [and deferring] specific program and budget decisions on these goals until NASA completes a more inten­sive assessment of the mission options.” The magazine reported that NASA’s budget would have to double within a decade to pay for the initiative. This was at the same time that the House Appropriations Committee was planning on cutting NASA’s FY 1990 appropriation by more than $1 billion, including a 50% decrease in funding for technologies key to Mars exploration. While Vice President Quayle recognized that the federal government faced serious budgetary limitations, he was quoted as saying that “when we have tight budgets, there will be winners and losers, but I am convinced a winner will be space.” Craig Covault of AWdrST reported that NASA leaders saw a presidential endorsement as an opportunity to seek increased funding and begin serious mission planning. Overall, the article was uncannily accurate and set the stage for President Bush’s upcoming address.[166]

On Thursday, 20 July 1989, with the decision in favor of an aggressive program for human exploration of the Moon and Mars made, President Bush prepared to announce the initiative at the anniversary celebration of Apollo ll’s landing on the Moon twenty years earlier. At shortly before 10:00 a. m., President and Mrs. Bush, accompanied by Vice President and Mrs. Quayle, departed the White House for the short drive across the National Mall to the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum. Upon their arrival at the museum, the group was escorted to the Lunar Module display, where they were greeted by Admiral Truly, Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, Buzz Aldrin, and Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution Robert Adams. After a quick photo opportunity attended only by invited pool photogra­phers, President Bush and his growing entourage were escorted to the museum’s front steps, where after a brief hold he was ushered on stage with an obligatory rendition of “Hail to the Chief.”

The first order of business for the event was the unveiling of an Apollo 11 post­age stamp by Postmaster General Anthony Franks. The $2.40 stamp depicted Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin raising the American flag on the plains of the Sea of Tranquility. After brief remarks by Truly, Armstrong, Collins, and Aldrin, Vice President Quayle introduced George Bush. President Bush opened his remarks by saluting “three of the greatest heroes of this or any other century: the crew of Apollo 11.” Bush used the first several minutes of his address remembering the remarkable accomplishment of that first human landing on the lunar surface. He recounted his family’s personal recollections of the landing—his children spread throughout North America, each listened in their own way. “Within one lifetime,” the presi­dent stated, “the human race traveled from the dunes of Kitty Hawk to the dust of another world. Apollo is a monument to our nations unparalleled ability to respond swiftly and successfully to a clearly stated challenge and to America’s willingness to take great risks for great rewards. We had a challenge. We set a goal. And we achieved it.”

Celebrating such an important legacy, Bush asserted, was an appropriate time to look to the future of the American space program. He proclaimed the inevita­bility of human exploration and permanent settlement of the solar system in the 21st century, in the process confirming the United Statess place as the preeminent space faring nation on Earth. Based on this rhetorical foundation, Bush unveiled his vision for this future exploration and settlement. “In 1961 it took a crisis—the space race—to speed things up. Today we don’t have a crisis; we have an opportunity. To seize this opportunity, I’m not proposing a 10-year plan like Apollo; I’m proposing a long-range, continuing commitment. First, for the coming decade, for the 1990s: Space Station Freedom, our critical next step in all our space endeavors. And next, for the new century: back to the Moon; back to the future. And this time, back to stay. And then a journey into tomorrow, a journey to another planet: a manned mis­sion to Mars.” The President stated these missions would follow one another in a logical progression, creating a pathway to the stars. He made clear that while setting the nation on this visionary course, the primary focus of his Administration would be the completion of Space Station Freedom—a crucial stepping stone for missions beyond Earth orbit.

President Bush announced that he was tasking Vice President Quayle to “lead the National Space Council in determining specifically what’s needed for the next round of exploration: the necessary money, manpower, and materials; the feasibility of international cooperation; and develop realistic timetables—milestones—along the way.” He requested that the Space Council report its findings to him as soon as possible, with concrete recommendations regarding the proper course to the Moon, Mars, and beyond. As his remarks wound down, Bush explained the one rationale for the grand initiative by alluding to the Apollo 1 fire and the Challenger accident, stating, “there are many reasons to explore the universe, but ten very special reasons why America must never stop seeking distant frontiers; the ten courageous astro­nauts who made the ultimate sacrifice to further the cause of space exploration. They have taken their place in the heavens so that America can take its place in the stars. Like them, and like Columbus, we dream of distant shores we’ve not yet seen. Why the Moon? Why Mars? Because it is humanity’s destiny to strive, to seek, to find. And because it is America’s destiny to lead.” The President opined that humans would ultimately reach out to the stars and to new worlds. While he believed that this would not happen in his lifetime or that of his children, making this dream a reality for future generations must begin with a commitment by his generation. He concluded that “we cannot take the next giant leap for mankind tomorrow unless we take a single step today.”[167]

Shortly after President Bush finished his remarks, Admiral Truly was introduced by Press Secretary Marlin Fitzwater in the White House Briefing Room to answer questions regarding the President’s speech. Truly’s answer to the very first question of the press conference was surprising, considering he had been intimately involved with the decision-making process for SEI. Asked if there was a proposed date for the first human landing on the red planet, he replied, “no…I just, frankly, learned this morning what [President Bush’s] direction was.”[168] Following this rocky start, Truly stumbled through a series of questions regarding the specifics of the plan and the political practicality of obtaining Congressional support for such an ambitious undertaking. Asked whether the potential budget for the Moon-base portion of the President’s plan would top $100 billion, he replied somewhat lamely that it would be affordable over the long-term. When pressed on the probable cost of the endeavor, Truly admitted that “we don’t have any detailed NASA figures. We have, obviously, in the last several weeks, looked in gross terms at what it would cost, but there was no specific timetable and I have not presented the President with a specific and detailed list of budgetary requirements.”[169] The press conference con­tinued along this shaky path with a question regarding the timetable for announc­ing a specific plan and budget for the initiative. Truly was once again unable (or unwilling) to provide a specific answer to this question, vaguely answering that it would take a number of months. He rallied in the end with his answer to a question regarding the necessity to bring in foreign partners, stating, “I think we can afford to go it alone, although I think that’s probably in the long run not what’s going to happen. The world has changed since the 1960s in space. It’s premature…to know where we’re heading, but I would think [SEI will] have an international flavor.”[170] In retrospect, what is most striking about this press briefing was the lack of specifics regarding the Administration’s plans to gain Congressional approval for SEI. Rapid decision – making was required to formulate the initiative in time to announce it on the Apollo 11 anniversary. Consequently, the White House did not have the time to formulate a strategy for winning support on Capitol Hill. Likewise, the Space Council had not drafted a top-level policy directive to guide administration activi­ties aimed at further defining the initiative. In the coming months, these shortcom­ings would derail SEI.

As Admiral Truly’s briefing was ongoing in the pressroom, guests began assem­bling on the White House South Lawn for a celebration of Apollo ll’s landing on the Moon. With picnic tables spread throughout the center of the lawn and a U. S. Navy band playing in the background, the guests sat down to partake of a lunch that included barbecue pork ribs, barbecue chicken, potato salad, and deep dish apple Betty with ice cream. Among the 300 distinguished attendees were 23 Apollo astronauts, 26 key members of Congress, and dozens of NASA officials. President and Mrs. Bush arrived at noon and were seated at a table near the bandshell with a group of special guests.[171]

After lunch, President Bush walked to the stage to deliver some brief remarks to the gathered celebrants. He warmed the crowd up with a little astronaut humor, joking that planning the barbecue was hectic because he was unsure whether they preferred their food grilled or in a tube. He continued to say that “as you might

expect from a former Navy pilot who lived much of his adult life in Houston, I, too, am a longtime supporter of the space program.” As an example of this support, he pointed to the fact that the single largest percentage increase for any agency in his Administration’s first budget proposal was for NASA. He told those assembled, “My commitment today to forge ahead with a sustained, manned exploration pro­gram, mission by mission—the space station, the Moon, Mars, and beyond—is a continuing commitment to ask new questions, to seek new answers, both in the heavens and on Earth. James Michener was right when he told Congress: ‘There are moments in history when challenges occur of such a compelling nature that to miss them is to miss the whole meaning of an epoch. Space is such a challenge,’ he said. Well, today’s announcement is our recognition that the challenge was not merely one that belonged in the sixties; it’s one that will occupy Americans for generations to come… the American people, I’m convinced, want us back in space—and this time, back in space to stay.” Bush concluded by stating that he looked forward to the day when a future president addressed, in similar fashion, the first Americans to walk on Mars, “now only children, perhaps your children.”[172]

In 1898, just three years after Percival Lowell popularized the vision of a Mars threaded by canals and peopled by ancient beings, the first great Martian science fiction book was published. The War of the Worlds, written by H. G. Wells, is hailed as the greatest alien invasion story in history. The book began with a Martian assault just outside of London. While the Martians at first seemed helpless in the heavy Earth gravity, they quickly exposed their advanced technology in the form of huge death machines that began destroying the surrounding countryside, forcing the evacuation of London. The saving grace for the badly overmatched humans turned out to be common bacteria that the Martians had no immune system to fight off. In 1938, the book was famously adapted for radio by Orson Welles. The retelling of the story, portrayed as a news program about a Martian landing in rural New Jersey, was so believable that millions of Americans actually thought that Earth was being invaded.[20]

Starting in 1917, author Edgar Rice Burroughs began a highly popular series about Mars exploration with the publication of A Princess of Mars. In subsequent years, he wrote ten more books tracking the adventures of Captain John Carter on Mars. The series was first published as a longer sequence of serials printed in All – Story Magazine, which represented a common strategy for the publication of science fiction novels during that period. The Carter books were considered to be more fantasy than hard science fiction, which was exhibited by the lack of detail regard­ing how Carter actually got to the red planet—he was magically taken there in the book.[21]

During the Great Depression and the Second World War, there was a conspic­uous absence of popular books regarding Mars exploration. The lull was broken when author Robert Heinlein wrote Red Planet. Published in 1949, the book fol­lowed teenager Jim Marlowe, his friend Frank, and his Martian “roundhead” pet Willis on their travels across the planet to warn a human colony that was the target of a conspiracy by the Martians.[22] A year later, Ray Bradbury authored his famous book entitled The Martian Chronicles. The book was actually a compilation of relatively unrelated short stories about an ancient, dying Martian race. Along with Heinleins Red Planet, the book borrowed heavily from the observations and theories of both Schiaparelli and Lowell—planetary canals were a central accomplishment of the Martian civilizations in both books. These were early examples of how scientific research pushed science fiction novels.[23] In 1956, Robert Heinlein wrote Double Star, the most critically acclaimed Martian novel during this time period. The book, which won the Hugo Award,[24] centered on the emotional predicament of an out of work actor, Lorenzo Smythe, who was asked to stand in for an important politician who had been kidnapped. His trouble began when he was forced to take part in an important ceremony on Mars despite the fact that he hated Martians. The book was an interesting rendering of the civil rights struggle going on in the United States at the time.[25]

During this same period, a large number of popular films featured adventures involving the red planet. In 1938, Flash Gordon: Mars Attacks the World premiered as a feature-length film. In the movie, Flash Gordon blasts off for Mars to destroy a mysterious force sucking the nitrogen from Earths atmosphere and foil a plot by Ming the Merciless to conquer the universe. This was followed in the post-War period with the 1950 film Rocketship X-M, the story of five astronauts that set off to explore the moon but due to a malfunction ended up on Mars—where they find evidence of an advanced civilization nearly destroyed by an atomic holocaust. The next year, Flight to Mars chronicled the adventures of a team of scientists and a newspaper reporter that fly to Mars and thwart a plan by the Martians (who look identical to humans) to conquer Earth. In 1953, Invaders from Mars told the tale of small town where all the adults begin acting strangely shortly after young David MacLean sees strange lights settling behind a hill near his home. That same year, Gene Barry starred in a film adaptation of War of the Worlds. Finally, in 1959, The Angry Red Planet followed a group of astronauts that land on Mars and battle aliens, a giant amoeba, and the dreaded “Rat-Bat-Spider thing.” By the late-1950s, the combination of these best selling books and feature-length films had fixed human exploration of the Mars (and the likely inhabitants of that planet) in the popular culture of the nation.

"We are going to return to the Moon and journey to Mars because we must, because the United States needs to challenge itself in order to be ready for the new world of the 21st century, now just over ten

years away. ”

NASA Administrator Richard Truly, 26 October 1989

The public reaction to President Bush’s announcement of SEI was swift, and not altogether positive. The following day, the headline on the front page of The New York Times read, “President Calls for Mars Mission and a Moon Base: Critics Cite High Costs—Bush Offers No Timetable or Budget for Plan, Leaving That to Space Council.” The article stated the speech set the stage for “the first full-scale debate in years on the nation’s troubled space program.” The piece cited expert opinions predicting the initiative would cost at least $100 billion, and could rise to as much as $400 billion.1 The reaction from the Democrat-controlled Congress was largely critical. Senator Al Gore of Tennessee, Chairman of the Subcommittee on Space, Science, and Technology, stated that “by proposing a return to the Moon and a manned base on Mars, with no money, no timetable, and no plan, President Bush offers the country not a challenge to inspire us, but a daydream.” His fellow senator from Tennessee, James Sasser, concurred, stating “the President took one giant leap for starry-eyed political rhetoric, and not even a small step for fiscal responsibility. The hard fact is this administration doesn’t even have its space priorities established for next year, much less for the next century. We have numerous space and science – [173] related programs already on the table, all of them worthy, all of them high-ticket and all of them competing for scarce dollars.”[174] House Budget Committee Chair­man Leon Panetta was quoted saying, “The budget deficit is stealing the resources we need to…resume our nation’s mission in space. When this President is ready to recognize that we can’t do all he would like to do even on this planet without new revenues, then perhaps we can talk about Mars.”[175] Even fellow Republicans were wary. Representative Bill Green of New York, the ranking minority member on the subcommittee with oversight of the NASA budget, stated that “given the federal budget deficit and earthly demands, I don’t see how we can afford expensive manned programs in space in the near future.”[176]

The Baltimore Sun captured the mood very well, writing that the announcement of a human mission to Mars “was tempered by the financial worries that took much of the thrill out of America’s romance with outer space after the historic flight of Apollo 11 .”[177] For this very reason, the American public was not terribly supportive of the new initiative. A Gallup Poll released shortly after the announcement suggested that only 27% of Americans believed space spending should be increased, and only 51% thought being the first nation to land a human on Mars was a meaningful goal.[178] [179] Not surprisingly, The Wall Street Journal reported support from the aerospace industry for SEI, although many executives believed a strong lobbying effort would be required to get Congressional approval for the expensive undertaking. In a pre­pared response, Martin Marietta Chairman Norman Augustine stated, “we applaud the president’s call for renewed vigor in pursuit of the space frontier and the many benefits it implies.” Despite similar supportive statements flowing from other aero­space giants, there remained a sense of pessimism within most corners of the indus­try—the result of looming questions regarding the source of the billions of dollars needed to carry out the ambitious plan. “It’s not the same clarion call that President Kennedy gave when he set a moon-landing [goal],” said aerospace analyst Wolfgang Demisch.

There were somewhat diverse opinions regarding President Bush’s speech amongst NASA’s senior leaders. On one hand, many were impressed that Bush was able to depart from the written text during his speech, which they felt proved that Vice President Quayle really understood NASA’s plan and had effectively briefed the president. Douglas O’Handley recalls that this was probably the most positive thing ever said about Quayle by NASA officials.[180] On the other hand, some agency officials believed the address laid the foundation for a ruinous relationship between the Space Council and NASA. Aaron Cohen felt this was the case because neither organiza­tion was paying attention to what the other was saying. Top NASA leaders thought the speech was a Kennedyesque declaration calling for a large-scale national effort to build a lunar base and send humans to Mars. Quayle and Albrecht, in contrast, wanted to introduce a new way of doing business within the space program—one that involved smaller budgets and more aggressive technology development (which they believed would lead to large cost efficiencies). Cohen recalled, “the day that the initiative was announced was a day of great elation [at NASA]. It took everyone back to the days of Apollo.”[181] For a White House that wanted to change the Apollo paradigm, this was not the desired reaction from the space agency.

After the euphoria of the announcement died down, Douglas O’Handley argues “Frank Martin and Admiral Truly realized that they needed to back up the skel­etal AHWG studies.”[182] This effort would include validating data that had been presented to the Space Council and assessing the technology readiness levels for the equipment needed to carry out the initiative—this review became known as the 90-Day Study. Mark Albrecht remembered later that NASA “stepped forward and almost demanded to lead this effort, which indicated the beginnings of a little friction” between the space agency and the Space Council staff. From the NASA perspective, however, the study was initiated because President Bush’s speech had provided the agency with a charter to develop a plan for a lunar base and human mission to Mars. There was a fundamental belief among senior leaders at the agency that this was exactly what the Space Council wanted. In fact, some of Albrecht’s public statements at the time seemed to indicate this was the case. He was quoted in Government Executive magazine saying that now that a national space policy goal had been set, the council would “leave it to the departments and agencies to decide how they’re going to achieve that. Once they’ve made that determination, we’ll review that to see whether or not it comports with national policy, or whether it’s realistic or plausible. But in terms of getting into their programs and plans for the purposes of ‘We know a better way,’ that’s just not what we’re here to do.”11 Later in the process, however, the White House had changed its tune, and both Albrecht and Vice President Quayle were arguing that they never wanted NASA to conduct the 90-Day Study. Aaron Cohen argues this problem arose because the Council didn’t have its own ideas regarding how to start the process. Although it had announced the initiative, the administration didn’t have a good sense regarding how to proceed after the speech. He contends this was the main reason problems emerged between the two organizations.[183] [184]

In the end, Albrecht asked NASA to provide “a variety of different approaches… we want a variety of time frames, we want a variety of cost profiles, we want a variety of technologies, so the President can choose among different options rather than being told ‘this is how to do it.’”[185] This was not the method, however, that Admi­ral Truly favored. The Administrator simply wanted to pull together the wealth of data that had been generated during the preceding five years and draft a report that would be ready within three months.[186] Over the coming months, Truly was warned during two meetings of the full Space Council that his plan “was not the approach most members wanted to pursue.”[187] The Council members wanted NASA to develop options based on innovative new technologies that could potentially offer reduced long-term costs.[188] Admiral Truly essentially disregarded this direction from the Council. At the same time, by allowing the space agency to pursue its own course, the Council in effect delegated the authority granted to it by President Bush to conduct a review of options for implementing SEI.

A week after President Bush’s speech, Admiral Truly assigned Aaron Cohen to lead an agency-wide effort to fashion a plan for establishing a lunar base and explor­ing Mars, drawing upon existing NASA planning documents. During the remain­der of the year, the space agency never wavered from this approach.[189] Although he was asked to examine both technical and management issues, Cohen chose to ignore questions regarding changes in NASA’s management culture. Some believed this decision was fueled by his view that the new initiative was laying out another Apollo program—in essence, a reinstitution of Kennedy’s mandate.”[190] As a result, there was no need to change the management culture that had successfully landed humans on the Moon. The only task was to define an aggressive program to meet President Bush’s new mandate. In his book Dragonfly: NASA and the Crisis Aboard Mir, author Bryan Burrough detailed a revealing conversation between Albrecht and Cohen after the latter had been named to lead the 90-Day Study:

“Most of all we want alternatives, plenty of alternatives,” Albrecht told Cohen.

“What do you mean, alternatives?” Cohen asked. From the blank look on the JSC director’s face, Albrecht could tell he wasn’t getting through.

“Alternatives,” Albrecht repeated. “I mean, there has to be more than one way to do this. Give us a Cadillac option, then give us the El Cheapo alter­native, with the incumbent risks. Talk about all the different technologies that could be learned.”[191]

Albrecht believed this interaction, and NASA’s reaction over the coming months, was the beginning of a never healed rift between the Space Council staff and NASA.[192] Cohen later recalled the conversation differently. Although he remembered Albre­cht asking for several options, he has no recollection of being asked to provide alternatives with significantly different cost profiles. Without this direction, mission planners at JSC felt the only course of action was to develop a program plan based on the President’s speech.[193]

Frank Martin believed the cause of this burgeoning conflict was the differing approaches of the two organizations. The Space Council staff, with backgrounds largely in the national security space sector, wanted NASA to develop alternatives starting “with a clean sheet of paper.” The JSC view was that it would be a shame not to take advantage of the research that had been conducted during recent years. In fact, Mark Craig remembered later that “there were never any debates about using a clean sheet.’ Our goal was to find the best approach to meet a set of requirements, not to just find something new for its own sake.”[194] In the end, NASA employed the JSC methodology and began developing an SEI strategy that was highly dependent on past studies and didn’t consider multiple alternatives with different budgetary requirements.[195] Douglas O’Handley contends, “this is where the initiative fell apart, when it was taken over by the Johnson Space Center.”[196]

While there was substantial progress made in telescope technology during the 70 years after Lowell’s sensational observations, it was still beyond the abilities of astronomers of the time to unequivocally disprove his theories. In fact, during this period there was little sustained interest in planetary astronomy, and as a result, few new discoveries were made. In 1957, the Soviet launch of Sputnik opened vast new opportunities for scientific investigations. Once the concept of robotic planetary exploration was conceived during the coming years, it was taken for granted that missions to Mars would be a priority. Several failed attempts by both the Americans and Soviets to send spacecraft to Mars during the early 1960s, however, delayed the first close up examination of the red planet.[26]

On 28 December 1964, NASA launched Mariner 4 on a mission to explore Mars. About halfway to the planet, the spacecraft experienced technical difficulties that greatly concerned ground controllers. The “Great Galactic Ghoul,”[27] however, was unsuccessful in its efforts at crippling the probe. On 14 July 1965, Mariner 4 made a flyby to within 6,118 miles of the planet’s surface. It was able to relay 22 images back to Earth with its single camera before passing out of range. The data that was obtained from those images, as well as from the spacecraft’s other instru­ments,[28] were nothing less than stunning. Instead of the living planet that Lowell had envisioned, Mariner 4 discovered a surface that was apparently devoid of life and seemingly unchanged for billions of years. In addition, results of an S-band radio occultation experiment found that the Martian atmospheric density was con­siderably lower than expected and that its makeup was approximately 95% carbon dioxide. Finally, it was discovered that the planet had no discernible magnetic field. The information returned by Mariner 4 resulted in a complete revision of human thinking about Mars, ending forever Lowellian theories regarding vegetation and intelligent beings.[29]

During the early months of 1969, the Americans and the Soviets each sent two more spacecraft towards Mars.[30] While the Soviets continued their string of failures, both Mariner 6 and Mariner 7 were successful. These spacecraft, like Mariner 4, were designed as flyby missions, but they were capable of photographing the planet at much greater distances. Mariner 6 sent 75 images earthward, while Mariner 7 produced 126 photographs. In total, the two probes, which passed within 2,120 miles of the planet, returned data about approximately 20% of the surface. Once again, the information obtained showed a largely cratered landscape, although it also showed large expanses that were like an exceedingly dry and cold desert.[31]

As chance would have it, the first three Mariner missions explored some of the most geographically lackluster areas of Mars. Launched on 30 May 1971, Mari­ner 9, the first successful orbiter to reach Mars, finally revealed the topographical diversity of the red planet. When the spacecraft arrived in November, however, the planet was obscured for weeks by a massive dust storm. Two Soviet landers, Mars 2 and Mars 3, were lost in the storm, because they were not capable of waiting in orbit for it to clear. They did, however, become the first machines to reach the Mar­tian surface. A month after Mariner 9 reached orbit, the dust finally cleared, and it was able to begin mapping the planet. The first features that were discovered were a series of gigantic shield volcanoes—the largest being Olympus Mons, the largest known mountain in the solar system. The second major finding was the immense Valles Marineris system, which dwarfed the Grand Canyon and stretched one-quar­ter of the way around the planet. Finally, the spacecraft detected wide channels (reminiscent of river valleys) and the hummocky terrain that is characteristic of the south polar regions. In October 1972, when the probe ran out of fuel, it had taken 7,239 photographs and revealed a truly unique planet.[32]

After the success of the Mariner program, the next step in the exploration of Mars involved sending robotic vehicles to conduct in situ experiments. In the late summer of 1975, Viking 1 and Viking 2 were launched to the red planet to carry out a search for Martian life, among other scientific objectives. Each spacecraft actually had two separate components—an orbiter based on Mariner 9 technolo­gies and a lander equipped with various scientific instruments. On 20 July 1976, about a month after it had entered orbit and seven years after the first human land­ing on the moon, the 1,300-pound Viking 1 lander settled onto the western slopes of Chryse Planitia—it was the first probe to safely reach the planets surface. The lander quickly began photographing its surroundings, including a stunning 300- degree panorama that showed sand dunes, a large impact crater, low ridges, scattered boulders, and a pink sky.[33]

The Viking 1 lander was outfitted with a large array of sophisticated equipment, including: antennas for communicating with ground controllers on Earth; cam­

eras capable of transmitting photographs in black and white, color, and infrared; a mechanical arm capable of scooping soil for examination; and a meteorology boom for assessing atmospheric humidity, temperature, and wind speed. Eight days after landing, the mechanical arm went into action and scooped up its first sample of Martian soil. The soil was released through a funnel that automatically separated it for chemical and biological analysis. While the findings of the landers various experiments were initially ambiguous, it is the widely held opinion of most of the scientific community that they revealed no signs of Martian life.[34] The Viking 2 lander, which touched down on Utopia Planitia on 3 September 1976, similarly

revealed a Mars with no visible signs of living organisms. Despite the conclusions drawn by mission scientists that Mars was lifeless, however, there is still active debate regarding the possibility that the red planet once harbored life. When the durable Viking 1 lander finally ceased operations in November 1982, the first phase of robotic exploration of the planet officially came to an end. Although many of the beliefs that had endured during the first two-thirds of the 20th century had been disproved by robotic probes, there remained considerable interest in future journeys to Mars. The question at that time was whether this second phase of discovery would be centered on robotic or human exploration.

The ensuing chapters will examine the events leading up to the announcement of SEI, including an effort by NASA to garner political support for a crewed mission to Mars during post-Apollo planning. The central focus of this story, however, will be a detailed account of the agenda setting process that placed SEI on the govern­ment agenda and the intense political battles that virtually guaranteed that an actual program would not be adopted. Finally, the manuscript will investigate the lessons learned from this failed policy process in an effort to provide a tool to current and future policy makers attempting to garner continued political and public support for human exploration beyond Earth orbit.

By late August, the White House was getting gradually more worried about the progress NASA was making on the 90-Day Study. Mark Albrecht was concerned with the weekly status reports he was receiving from the Technical Study Group (TSG), which was the JSC-led team tasked with carrying out the study. “We didn’t like the reaction we got from NASA,” he remembered. “It had an uh oh’ quality to it. NASA reports seemed to be full of lofty verbiage but few technical outlines or alternatives for what a lunar base and a Mars mission would actually look like.”[197] Throughout this period, Albrecht kept emphasizing that the President wanted to see a lot of technical and budgetary options. Based on the space agency’s responses, however, the council staff was beginning to get the strong feeling that it wasn’t going to get any alternatives. Although Congress wasn’t heavily engaged during this period, there was rising concern because of the increasingly frayed Space Council – NASA relationship. The feeling on Capitol Hill was that this strain was caused largely because NASA was “running their own plan, which wasn’t the same as the White House’s plan.”[198]

As time went on, these stressed relations escalated into an all out war between the TSG and the Space Council. NASA’s Douglas O’Handley had actually made a few friends among the Space Council staff, and they were pleading with him to provide assistance. In the end, however, he was not able to provide any support because Admiral Truly and the TSG controlled all information relating to the 90-Day Study. Things got so bad that every time senior NASA officials returned from a White House meeting, there was another story about “those dumb [expletive] on the Space

Council. I have often thought,” O’Handley stated later, that the conflicting “per­sonalities caused many of the problems. If, instead of fighting with the Space Coun­cil, we had tried to work with them, the outcome might have been different.”[199]

While this external battle was being waged between the Space Council and NASA, there was another internal battle being waged within the agency. There was rising apprehension regarding JSC’s control of strategic planning for the initiative. Although the TSG was to a degree soliciting advice from other field centers, there was a feeling that the JSC leadership didn’t really take outside advice very well. Douglas O’Handley argued later, “I absolutely think a wider net should have been cast within NASA, but JSC deprived the other centers an opportunity to contribute to the initiative.”[200] The aerospace industry also wanted to play a role in the mission development, but weren’t heavily involved. Although there were numerous techni­cal concepts and architectural options floating about, the TSG essentially ignored them. JSC became “Fortress NASA” and outside ideas were not welcome.[201]

Despite ongoing problems between the Space Council and NASA, and misgiv­ings about the initiative on Capitol Hill, the TSG was allowed to continue compil­ing the 90-Day Study. The study group was staffed with about 450 people led on a day-to-day basis by Mark Craig, with an average of 250 people working directly on the study on any given day—although the core team was formed by the members of the AHWG.[202] The study began by decomposing the President’s objectives into top level technology requirements. These requirements were then used to develop an end-to-end architecture, which included the following features:

• Characterize the environment in which humans and machines must function with robotic missions

• Launch personnel and equipment from Earth

• Exploit the unique capabilities of human presence aboard the Space Station Freedom

• Transport crew and cargo from Earth orbit to lunar and Mars orbits and surfaces

• Conduct scientific studies and investigate in-situ resource development

The TSG assumed the agency would utilize the Space Shuttle and Space Station Freedom to implement SEI. This, in essence, meant the group never considered whether leveraging these systems was feasible or desirable given the existing fiscal environment. The inclusion of the two systems was almost a foregone conclusion because JSC wanted to protect the Shuttle and continue Station development—in the near term, this meant the ultimate success of SEI was not necessarily the agency’s top priority. From the agency’s perspective, completion of an orbital station was part of a serial progression that started with the shuttle and would eventually end with a human mission to Mars—an idea that dated back to post-Apollo planning. This viewpoint was directly influenced by Admiral Truly’s decision to base the 90- Day Study’s technical analysis on past NASA studies. Douglas O’Handley argues, “this is where the Space Council and the agency were on a collision course. NASA was documenting the past and the Space Council wanted options and innovative thinking. None of the NASA principals knew how to go about” providing those alternatives.[203]

The 90-Day Study alternative generation process was far from optimal. Because the TSG was so JSC-centric, technical and architectural concepts from other seg­ments of the space policy community were not solicited. Perhaps more importantly, the group considered budgetary constraints last. This should have been the first thing that was evaluated, with all programmatic options tailored to the fiscal reali­ties. Instead, the TSG put together a virtual ‘wish list’ for human exploration with­out taking into account the existing political environment. This eventually became an even greater problem because the group never paid “much attention to lowering the initiative’s costs by using emergent technologies.”[204] There is some indication that part of the reason for this was because NASA had been directed to virtually guarantee the safety of the astronauts. Based upon the Apollo experience and a con­temporary understanding of the life science challenges, the TSG had calculated that one member of a seven-person crew may not return. The Space Council staff told agency planners they wanted ‘seven out and seven back.’[205] This would have required 99-9999% mission reliability. As much as anything done by the space agency, this

White House decision drove costs up enormously.[206]