Category Mars Wars

During its deliberations, the Ride task force recommended that an organization be created to perform systematic planning for the nations civil space program. In July 1987, Administrator James Fletcher established the NASA Office of Explora­tion to coordinate the agency’s efforts to promote missions to the Moon and Mars. Fletcher appointed John Aaron, a longtime NASA official, as the first Assistant Administrator for the bureau. Among Aarons first assignments was to conduct a study, building on the Paine and Ride reports, looking at options for the long range human exploration of the solar system. This effort, which involved representatives from seven NASA field centers and five headquarters program offices, continued for more than a year.[80]

On 19 December 1988, the Office of Exploration submitted to Fletcher its first annual report, Beyond Earth’s Boundaries: Human Exploration of the Solar System in the 21st Century—which was the final product of the office’s year-long strate­gic study. The study team examined two different alternatives for future human exploration. First, the space agency could develop a series of expeditions that would travel from Earth to new destinations in the solar system. Second, the space agency could focus on an evolutionary expansion into the solar system that would concen­trate more on permanence and the exploitation of resources. The NASA-wide effort utilized a technique called exploration case-studies, whereby a series of technical and policy “what if” questions were asked to judge the viability of several mission options. Beyond Earth’s Boundaries examined four specific case studies:

• a round-trip human mission from Earth to the Martian moon Phobos, which would serve as a stepping stone to a landing on red planet

• a direct human mission to the surface of Mars

• establishment of a human scientific research station on the Moon

• a lunar outpost to Mars outpost plan, which emphasized the use of the Moon as a springboard for further exploration of the solar system

The study team concluded that an expedition to Phobos could be a valuable interim step to a human landing on the Martian surface, offsetting some of the uncertainties that the latter mission could encounter. They also found that utilizing the Moon as a springboard for expansion into the solar system had a number of advantages, such as learning to construct habitats, extract and process mineral resources, and operate and maintain exploratory machinery. It was also believed that using the Moon as a fuel depot would appreciably reduce the total Earth launch mass, greatly cutting overall programmatic costs. In the end, the report favored establishment of a scientific research station on the Moon as a logical stepping-stone to both a per­manent lunar outpost and a full-up Mars expedition. The study team did not sup­port a “crash” human exploration program, regardless of the alternative chosen by policy makers. Instead, it preferred that NASA conduct long-lead technology and life sciences research during the 1990s—including the completion of Space Station Freedom. It was contended that this would provide government officials with the requisite data to make a decision before the turn of the century regarding the best alternative for expansion into the solar system.[81]

During the period that the Office of Exploration was conducting its study, work was going on within the Reagan administration to generate a new national space policy. In 1982, the White House had produced a national space policy under the auspices of the National Security Council. That document stated the central role of the Space Shuttle in the national security and civil space sectors.[82] [83] In the interim, however, there had been important changes in the American space program— including the Challenger accident, a greater emphasis on commercial applications, and the National Commission on Space report. Throughout the latter half of 1987, a Senior Interagency Group (SIC) for Space conducted a comprehensive review that reflected those and other changes in the policy environment. On 11 February 1988, an unclassified summary of the Presidential Directive on National Space Policy was publicly released. The stated goals of the space policy were:

• to strengthen national security

• to obtain scientific, technological, and economic benefits

• to encourage continuing private-sector investment in space related activities

• to promote international cooperation; and, as a long-range goal

• to expand human presence and activity beyond Earth orbit into the solar system

This presidential directive was the first time since Kennedy’s May 1961 speech that human exploration beyond Earth orbit formally made it onto the government agenda. To implement this new policy, the document directed NASA to begin the systematic development of technologies necessary to enable a range of future human

* * 49

missions.

Despite the appearance that President Reagan had made a momentous commit­ment to sending humans beyond Earth orbit, many space policy experts question the strength of the pledge. American University’s Howard McCurdy argues that the policy directive was merely a “gesture designed to please NASA bureaucrats and space exploration advocates who were clamoring for an expedition to Mars.” George Washington University’s John Logsdon contends that for all intents and purposes the policy was meaningless because it committed the administration to no spe­cific new exploration program. Finally, the Congressional Research Service’s Marcia Smith makes the case that human exploration outside the Earth system was not actually part of the government agenda during the Reagan administration; it was simply part of the “space agenda.” Despite the weak commitment to the proposal, however, the presidential directive did generate further momentum for the adoption a Moon-Mars initiative by the next president.[84]

In September 1991, two years of White House frustration with Admiral Truly came to ahead when NASA Deputy Administrator J. R. Thompson tendered his res­ignation. The job was a presidential appointment and provided the Space Council with an opportunity to select someone who would support President Bush’s vision for the future. Mark Albrecht was responsible for making the selection, but was sur­prised to find that no one would take the position as long as Admiral Truly remained administrator. Despite being an outspoken critic of the administrator, Albrecht was surprised by how widespread anti-Truly feelings were. After briefing Vice President Quayle regarding the status of the search, he was asked to assess whether there was support for Truly’s removal. In early December, Quayle and Albrecht met with three former NASA administrators—Jim Beggs, Thomas Paine, and Jim Fletcher. During the course of the meeting each of the three reiterated a common message—Truly had to go.[328] [329]

After conferring with President Bush, Vice President Quayle summoned Admi­ral Truly to the White House and requested that he step aside as administrator. He offered to appoint Truly to any open ambassadorship in the world in exchange for his resignation. The administrator said he would consider the proposal. A few days later, however, he sent a message to the Quayle stating he would not resign. “Then he went into utter radio silence for a week, maybe two weeks,” remembers a Quayle staffer. Then, out of the blue, Albrecht received a phone call from the newly appointed White House Chief of Staff, Samuel Skinner. Apparently Truly had made an appointment with Skinner, in an attempt to plead his case. Quayle and Albrecht were outraged at the administrator’s audacity. It was even more startling, however, when Truly again refused to resign when Skinner reiterated Quayle’s earlier resigna­tion request. “I want to hear it from the President’s lips,” Truly told Skinner. By this

time it was early February 1992.[330] [331]

On 10 February, at about five o’clock in the afternoon, Truly was once again summoned to the White House—this time to the Oval Office. After a half hour with President Bush, he finally agreed to submit his resignation. As with most other major space policy decisions made by the Bush administration, there were mixed reactions to the decision to fire Admiral Truly. Many space experts were not terribly surprised by the White House move. John Logsdon (a newly appointed member of the Vice President’s Space Advisory Board) told The Washington Post that Truly “did an extremely valuable job in getting the Shuttles flying again, and restoring a sense of integrity to the agency… [however], Truly’s vision of the future was not compatible with the realities of the world.” Others were troubled by the signal this forced resignation sent regarding the future course of the space program. Senator A1 Gore was quoted saying, “I view this as a very troubling sign that.. .Quayle’s Space Council may have forced Admiral Truly to leave this job because of the [Space Council’s] insistence on running NASA from the Vice President’s office.”®

The day after Truly stepped down, President Bush stopped Mark Albrecht in the hallway as the former was on his way to a meeting. “Your job,” the President told him, “is to get me the best NASA Administrator in history, and do it before Truly’s resignation is effective.” Truly was to resign effective 1 April, which meant that Albrecht only had 45 days to have a replacement in place—which would mean a faster confirmation process than anyone during the entire course of the Bush presidency. Within a few days, Albrecht had compiled a short list of potential can­
didates. Everyone on the list was well known within the space policy community, except for one name that quickly rose to the top of the heap. Dan Goldin was a relatively obscure middle manager at TRW who a few years earlier had pitched an idea for a smaller, cheaper version of the NASA Earth Observation System (EOS). A mechanical engineer who received his B. S. from City College of New York in 1962, Goldin’s first job after graduating was at NASA’s Lewis Research Center—where he dreamed of sending humans to Mars. Within five years, however, he left the agency to join TRW and work on classified defense programs. He was a rising star at the company, and in the mid-1980s became heavily engaged in the nations top – priority Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI). Early in the Bush administration, the National Space Council staff took note of Goldin’s dynamic and innovative poli­cies at TRW—particularly his use of very advanced microelectronic technology to launch smaller spacecraft. Albrecht and Vice President Quayle believed Goldin was exactly what the agency needed, someone willing to shake things up and get results. Albrecht recalled having dinner with Goldin and thinking, “this is a keeper, he understands the confluence between technology and risk and cost and schedule.” Albrecht became Goldin’s biggest champion within the White House. “I always wanted Dan to be the guy,” Albrecht remembered, “I kept sending the Vice Presi­dent lists of names and it always had Dan Goldin on it.”[332]

The bigger question the administration faced was whether Goldin, or anyone for that matter, would want to take on the position of NASA administrator. With Presi­dent Bush’s approval ratings down in an election year, anyone who chose to take the position could easily find themselves out of a job if the Democrats retook the White House in November. For Goldin in particular, who had a high paying job in industry, there seemed to be a lot of reasons to stay put in California. Regardless, he was ready for a move and was flattered by the presidential offer. More importantly, he still maintained the love affair with space that he had when he joined NASA in the early 1960s—and he still wanted America to go to Mars. Thus, in early March, he decided to take his chances and agreed to accept the nomination to head the space agency. Just before his nomination was submitted, however, a small problem emerged. In his book Dragonfly: NASA and the Crisis Aboard Mir, author Bryan Burrough detailed an astonishing interaction between Goldin and his White House sponsors in early March.

One night Goldin mentioned to Albrecht that, by the way, did it matter that he was a registered Democrat?

Albrecht nearly choked. “Dan, you are to tell no one this,” he said. “Do you understand? No one.”

Albrecht hung up and phoned Quayle. “I’ve got fabulous news, he told the Vice President. “Dan Goldin is a registered Democrat.”

“You are kidding me.”

“No, Pm not.”

And then Dan Quayle chuckled and mentioned the obvious. In that case, Goldin ought to sail through his confirmation hearings in the Democrat-controlled Senate.

On 11 March, with this issue settled, the White House announced that it was put­ting Dan Goldin forward as its nominee to be the next administrator of NASA.[333]

Overall, the response to Dan Goldin after he arrived in Washington and began making the rounds on Capitol Hill was extremely positive. “The general reaction to Goldin,” said one backer, “was, ‘Jesus, who the hell was that guy? He’s great! Where did you find him?”’ During his senatorial confirmation hearings the panel greeted him warmly, but cautioned that he was walking into a budget mess. Goldin told the committee he intended to sharpen accountability and control costs in NASA pro­grams in a way that would win more stable funding support in Congress. Respond­ing to concerns that he would simply be a Space Council puppet, Goldin stated, “I will be in charge of NASA.” Goldin was approved overwhelmingly with a mandate for change from both the White House and Congress. On the afternoon of 1 April, Goldin was sworn-in during a brief ceremony in the Oval Office.[334] Seven months later, President Bush was defeated for reelection by Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton.

While it was initially unclear where President Clinton stood on space, although he had supported continuation of space station program during the election, it became obvious early in his tenure that the American space program was not a top priority on his agenda. Within weeks of taking office, he disbanded the National Space Council and tasked Vice President A1 Gore with directing national space policy. Gore had been very impressed with Dan Goldin during the latter’s confir­mation hearings the previous spring, which explains why Goldin was the highest ranking Bush appointee to remain in place under the new administration.[335] In early February 1993, the fate of the American human spaceflight effort became shock­ingly clear when Goldin was summoned to the White House. During a meeting with OMB Director Leon Panetta, the administrator was informed that President Clinton’s budget would cut funding for the space agency by 20%. As a result, there was no alternative but to kill the Space Station program.[336] “The blood drained out of my face,” Goldin later remembered. Before the meeting ended, however, Goldin had successfully lobbied for a few days to prepare a working budget that would maintain a commitment to the Space Station. He believed without the Station, NASA had no future—and would certainly never make it to Mars.[337]

Over the subsequent weekend, Goldin summoned key NASA staffers from around the country to a crisis meeting in suburban Virginia. Over the course of a sleepless 72-hours, the team generated three alternatives for shrinking the existing Station plans. The following Monday, Goldin used a collection of Lego building blocks to build primitive models of Plan A and Plan B, and a single cardboard toilet – paper holder for Plan C. That Tuesday, he used the mock-ups at a briefing for Presi­dent Clinton’s senior staff. He was pleasantly surprised at the end of the meeting to get the go-ahead to fully develop the three new options within 90 days in an emer­gency redesign effort. The space station eventually avoided cancellation, although its budget was slashed by $7 billion over five years. The Clinton administration later brought the Russians into the program as partners on what was renamed the International Space Station—this program became the primary human spaceflight initiative for the remainder of the decade.[338] It was clear that the Clinton administra­tion had no desire to fund human exploration of the Moon and Mars.[339]

Over three years later, in September 1996, the White House National Science and Technology Council released the first comprehensive revision of national space policy since the end of the Cold War. The policy stated the United States would maintain a global leadership role by supporting a strong, stable, and balanced national space program. It presented five goals for the space program:

• Enhance knowledge of the Earth, the solar system, and the universe through human and robotic exploration;

• Strengthen and maintain the national security of the United States;

• Enhance the economic competitiveness, and scientific and technical capabilities of the United States;

• Encourage State, local, and private sector investment in, and use of, space technologies;

• Promote international cooperation to further U. S. domestic, national security, and foreign policies.

Explicitly missing from the document was any mention of human exploration beyond Earth orbit. The document simply stated that “the international space sta­tion would support future decisions on the feasibility and desirability of conducting further human exploration activities.” On a campaign swing through the Pacific Northwest the day after the document was released, President Clinton said the goal of a human mission to Mars early in the next century was too expensive to pursue, and instead affirmed America’s commitment to a series of less expensive robotic probes, the first of which was scheduled to land on the planet the following summer. White House Press Secretary Mike McCurry told reporters that ambitions for human exploration of Mars, which would cost upwards of $100 billion, had met with the hard reality of the national budget. “Were not abandoning that concept,” McCurry said. “What we believe is that in the era that were managing our space exploration resources prudently, we ought to establish sufficient grounds for that type of commitment of resources. To commit those kinds of resources now, lacking a scientific basis for that, the President doesn’t think is justified.” Thus, in the early fall of 1996, human exploration of Mars vanished from the national space policy agenda.[340]

“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. ”

James Michener, 19791

By 1989, the American space program had been in a steady decline for nearly two decades. NASA had failed to find its footing in the years following the triumphs of the Apollo moon landings. During the intervening period, the space agency had become increasingly conservative, risk averse, and bureaucratic. After failing to gain support for a robust human exploration program, the agency had retreated and become an ever more cautious organization. During this time, the space program had no great supporters in the White House, nor great advocates within the Con­gress. This forced the agency to focus its political energies on protecting its turf (e. g., the Space Shuttle and space station programs) and trying to slow the regular reduc­tions in its annual appropriation. The result was a NASA that hardly resembled the organization that had taken on the Soviet Union on one of the most prominent battlegrounds of the Cold War—an agency that had won a great victory for the United States.

Despite this long interlude, there had been stirrings within the space policy com­munity in recent years that seemed to indicate that a return to glory might be achiev­able. The National Commission on Space had recommended human exploration of Mars as the appropriate long-term objective of the space program. The American [85] public had rallied around NASA in the wake of the Space Shuttle Challenger acci­dent. President Reagan had placed human exploration beyond Earth orbit back on the space agenda for the first time in two decades. Perhaps most importantly, Presi­dent-elect George Bush was an outspoken supporter of the space program—perhaps more supportive then any incoming president in the history of the space age. On the larger national stage, however, forces that are more significant were develop­ing that didn’t bode well for the adoption of an overly aggressive or expensive new undertaking in human spaceflight. In particular, a struggling economy and rising deficits were placing enormous pressure on the federal budget. This political reality would be the most important constraint facing adoption of an expanded exploration program and attempts to revitalize the national space program. In fact, the situation was so grave that it seriously called into question whether the new president should support such an endeavor at all. Despite the potential hazards, though, only a few short months after taking office, President George Bush and his key space policy advisors decided to champion an ill-defined yet exorbitantly expensive exploration plan—the Space Exploration Initiative.

George Herbert Walker Bush was born in Milton, Massachusetts on 12 June 1912, the second child of Dorothy Walker and Prescott Bush, an investment banker and later Republican Senator from Connecticut. He grew up a member of the East­ern elite. Biographer John Robert Greene writes that Bush’s parents were “…mem­bers of the genteel class—well educated, well pedigreed, well mannered, and well connected. They were also wealthy— The world in which the Bush children were raised then was one in which comfort was never an issue, but neither were the constant reminders that that comfort could not be taken for granted. Prescott Bush used his wealth as a safety net for his children. They were expected to go out, earn their own wealth, and do the same.” As befitting one of this social standing, George received a private school education—first attending the Greenwich County Day School and then moving to prep school at Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachu­setts. On his 18th birthday, George graduated from Phillips Academy and enlisted in the U. S. Navy. Within a year, he received a commission as an ensign and became the youngest pilot in the navy. During World War II, Bush flew 58 combat mis­sions against Japanese forces, survived being shot down on a bombing mission, and earned the Distinguished Flying Cross. Upon returning from the war, he entered Yale University, where he earned a B. A. in economics in only two years and gradu­ated Phi Beta Kappa. Following college, Bush spent the subsequent two decades earning his fortune as an executive in the oil industry.[86]

In 1964, George Bush made his first run for elective office when he challenged incumbent Democrat Ralph Yarborough for the U. S. Senate. Despite a good show­ing for a Republican in Texas, a Democratic Party united under the leadership of fellow Texan Lyndon Johnson stymied Bush—he only received 43% of the vote in the November election. Two years later, however, in 1966, Bush made a successful run for a congressional seat in Houston, becoming the first Republican to repre­sent that city. One of the few freshman congressional representatives ever selected to serve on the powerful Ways and Means Committee; he was reelected two years later without opposition. In 1970, at the behest of President Nixon, Bush made another run for the U. S. Senate. This time running against conservative Democrat Lloyd Bentsen, who had surprisingly beaten Yarborough in the primary, he lost once again, garnering only 46% of the vote.[87]

On 11 December 1970, President Nixon, who greatly appreciated Bushs willing­ness to sacrifice a safe House seat to run for the Senate, appointed him to the post of U. S. Ambassador to the United Nations. He served in this capacity for two years, but in early 1973 Nixon asked him to take the reigns of the Republican National Committee (RNC) in the aftermath of the Watergate break-in. In that position, Bush was an early defender of Nixon. When tapes were released that proved the president was guilty of obstruction of justice, however, he changed his stance and strongly lobbied the president to resign. In December 1975, after serving as the American envoy to China for a year, President Ford appointed Bush as the Director of Central Intelligence (DCI). After Jimmy Carters election, despite a solid record of achievement at the CIA, he became the first DCI to be dismissed by an incoming president-elect. He spent the next four years preparing to contend for the Republi­can presidential nomination. In 1980, despite winning the Iowa caucuses, George Bush never recovered from his loss to former California governor Ronald Reagan in the New Hampshire primary. After an effort to create a Reagan-Ford “dream ticket” collapsed, the conservative Reagan asked Bush to accept the vice presidential nomination because he was “the most attractive surviving moderate.” Biographer John Robert Greene explains, “Bushs major task as Vice President was to be the administration’s front man on the road. Between 1981 and 1989, Bush put in 1.3 million miles of travel, visiting the 50 states and 65 different countries.”[88]

“Some say the space program should wait—that we should only go
forward once the social problems of today are completely solved. But
history proves that attitude is self-defeating.. .Many an American
schoolkid has read the story of Columbus’ doubters, and shook their
heads in disbelief that these naysayers could have been so
shortsighted. We must not let the schoolchildren of the future
shake their heads at our behavior. ”

President George Bush, 20 June 1990

As was discussed in the first chapter of this book, John Kingdon’s Policy Streams Model and Frank Baumgartner and Bryan Jones’s Punctuated Equilibrium Model epitomize an innovative approach to analyzing agenda setting and policy formation. Both models were developed because there was a sense that political scientists and policy analysts could benefit from overarching approaches to understanding the policy process. The policy sciences had previously been dominated by a prolifera­tion of theories that dealt with specific policy phases (e. g., agenda setting, adoption, implementation, and evaluation). The goal of the new models was to provide a more comprehensive system to improve policy analysis within large issue areas.1 Policy Streams and Punctuated Equilibrium were originally conceived to study social and [341] economic policy. One of the objectives of this book, however, is to assess whether the models are relevant to the examination of science and technology policy—par­ticularly large space policy initiatives. This evaluation led to the conclusion that the models offer useful methodologies that can be applied to further our understanding of the space policy community and long-term trends in national space policy.

Before being elected as vice president, despite having served as a naval aviator during WWII, George Bush did not exhibit a particular interest in the American space program. As vice president, however, Bush became increasingly involved in space policy making—particularly in the aftermath of the Space Shuttle Challenger accident. Bush met with the families of the lost astronauts just hours after the tragedy and was deeply moved by both their sorrow and continued dedication to NASA. Dr. June Scobee, the wife of the mission commander, told him not to let the disaster hurt the agency and to fight to keep the space program alive. On 21 March 1987, at the dedication of the Challenger memorial at Arlington National Cemetery, Bush stated, “the greatest tribute we can pay to the Challenger’s brave crew and their families is to remain true to their purpose, and to rededicate ourselves to America’s leadership in space.”[89]

In the summer of 1987, NASA Administrator James Fletcher requested a meet­ing to brief Vice President Bush on issues relating to the American space program.[90]

Specifically, the administrator wanted to talk about the U. S. and U. S.S. R. civil space programs, the status of the Space Shuttles return to service, and the keys to the agency’s future. On 10 August, Fletcher went to the White House to present the agency’s vision for the 1990s and beyond. He told Bush that the Soviets were beating the Americans in space because of the former nation’s unrelenting expan­sion of its civil and military capabilities during the prior three decades. The primary examples of that preeminence were the permanently occupied Mir space station and the massive Energia launch vehicle. Fletcher argued that Space Station Freedom and a Shuttle-derived advanced launch vehicle would not be capable of achieving parity with the Soviets until the end of the century. He suggested that this disparity in technical capabilities gave the U. S.S. R. an advantage in robotic and human explora­tion of Mars, which was the long-term goal of Soviet space efforts.[91]

Administrator Fletcher indicated that four important steps needed to be taken to reverse the current course of American-Soviet competition. First, NASA needed funding to develop a flexible and robust space transportation system to assure access to Earth orbit. Second, several critical enabling technologies needed to be tested, including: artificial gravity, closed loop life support, aero-braking, orbital transfer and maneuver, cryogenic storage and handling, and large scale space operations. Third, the U. S. needed the national will to excel. Finally, policy makers needed to choose a long-term, post-Space Station goal that would provide a strategic focus for the space program. Fletcher argued that human exploration of the solar system would provide this direction. He outlined a plan that would commence with a return to the Moon, establishment of a scientific outpost, and exploitation of lunar resources. Then, in the early 21st century, the space agency would be ready to start sending human missions to explore Mars. The meeting with the vice president was purely informational in nature and was not aimed at gaining an immediate response. The main objective was to lay the groundwork for further lobbying efforts should Bush be elected to replace President Reagan.[92]

On 13 October 1987, speaking at Houston’s Hyatt Regency Hotel, Vice Presi­dent George Bush announced he would make a second run for the presidency. Just weeks after declaring his candidacy, Bush delivered a major policy address on the future of the space program at the Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Ala­bama. While space policy was not a hot issue during the election cycle, Bush gave it more attention than any presidential candidate since John Kennedy. He told the crowd gathered at the NASA field center, “In very basic ways, our exploration of space defines us as a people—our willingness to take great risks for great rewards, to challenge the unknown, to reach beyond ourselves, to strive for knowledge and innovation and growth. Our commitment to leadership in space is symbolic of the role we seek in the world.” Exhibiting his moderate Republican roots, Bush spoke eloquently of the environmental problems facing humanity and the role that NASA’s Mission to Planet Earth (a planned network of earth science satellites) could play in altering “our disastrous course.” He also endorsed aggressive launch vehicle developments aimed at replacing the Space Shuttle, assuring access to low-Earth orbit and drastically reducing launch costs. Finally, drawing on his briefing from Administrator Fletcher two months earlier, Bush argued that the nation “…should make a long-term commitment to manned and unmanned exploration of the solar system. There is much to be done—further exploration of the Moon, a mission to Mars, probes of the outer planets. These are worthwhile objectives, and they should not be neglected. They should be pursued in a spirit of both bipartisanship and international teamwork.” He stressed the need for international cooperation, stat­ing that the solar system should be explored not as Americans, Soviets, French, or Japanese, but as humans. Despite delivering a relatively optimistic address about the future of the space program, Bush also openly spoke about the budgetary pressures facing the federal government and its impact on the space agency. “We cannot write a blank check to NASA… while our dreams are unlimited, our resources are not, and we must choose realistic missions that recognize these constraints.”[93]

During the course of the next year, the country watched one of the nastiest presi­dential contests in history unfold. After a slow start with a third place finish in the Iowa caucuses, Bush stormed back with a solid win in New Hampshire followed by a sweep of the Super Tuesday primaries on 9 March 1988. In August, the Repub­lican Party unanimously nominated Bush. On the morning of 3 October 1988, while engaged in a chaotic general election campaign against Governor Michael Dukakis of Massachusetts, the nominee was on hand at Edwards Air Force Base for the landing of the Space Shuttle Discovery, the first shuttle mission since the Chal­lenger accident. That afternoon, at a campaign stop in Redding, California, Bush strayed from his regular stump speech to talk about the space program. He stated that if he were elected president, he would have certain strong notions about the proper priorities for the space program. Once again drawing upon the NASA brief­ing he had received the previous year, Bush contended that the logical progression of the human spaceflight program would involve completion of the Space Station, followed by missions to the Moon and Mars. He stopped short of endorsing the adoption of an exploration plan focusing on the red planet, however, stating that he was “not completely sure Mars is the next place we ought to go, and I want to receive the best thinking on that. But if we decide to go, we’ll have to be ready, and a space station is part of that process.”

Still, Bush made it clear that while robotic probes had great benefits he believed the future of the American space program should place an emphasis on human spaceflight. The primary rationale he gave for human involvement was that mis­sions to explore the solar system were “journeys of discovery and daring, and they will lose their impact and their meaning if they are performed only by machines.”[94] [95] The following month, George Bush defeated Michael Dukakis—with a supportive president-elect ready to take office, this opened a policy window for adoption of a long-term human spaceflight initiative. The main question facing the space policy community, however, was whether a plan could be formulated that would revitalize the space program without requiring a large infusion of budgetary resources.

Although the original intention was to primarily utilize the Policy Streams Model to guide the historical analysis of SEI’s failure, in writing this book it became increas­ingly clear that the theory could also be used to provide insights regarding important actors within the space policy community. The methodological core of Kingdons book were hundreds of interviews conducted over four years with congressional staffers, upper-level civil servants, political appointees, presidential staffers, lobby­ists, journalists, consultants, academics, and researchers.[342] One objective of these interviews was to determine which players were important in a given policy com­munity.[343] Due to resource limitations for this book, it was not possible to conduct a large number of comprehensive interviews. Instead, a survey was created to identify influential actors within the space policy community. This survey was circulated to a population of civil servants, presidential staff, lobbyists, academics, researchers, and members of industry. Those surveyed were asked to rate the importance of given actors within the community. This direct inquiry allowed for accurate coding of responses into one of four categories: very important, somewhat important, little importance, or no importance. The goals were twofold. First, to determine who the most influential players are within the space arena. Second, to determine whether SEI’s policy entrepreneurs effectively engaged key space policy community actors during the initiatives agenda setting and alternative generation processes.

No single actor has the same ability to set the space agenda as the president. Eighty-three percent of those surveyed considered the president very or somewhat important—very important represented 59% (see Table on next page). Although President Bush wasn’t heavily involved in SEI’s development, he endowed Vice Pres­ident Quayle with the authority to push forward the initiative. Before ascending to the presidency, Bush was an outspoken proponent of the American space program and was already leaning toward a commitment to human exploration beyond Earth orbit. Armed with a presidential mandate to fashion a long-term strategy, Quayle was able to force SEI onto the national agenda. Throughout the agenda setting pro­cess, he was the crucial policy entrepreneur advocating for the initiative.

Vice President Quayle was aided in this effort by National Space Council Execu­tive Secretary Mark Albrecht. Within the space policy arena, presidential staffers were collectively among the most frequently discussed actors. Ninety-eight percent of those surveyed considered the presidential staff very or somewhat important— very important represented 74%. During the Bush administration, the staff had more influence over the space policy agenda than at any time in the history of the space program. This was primarily due to the broad role of the Space Council. Combined with budget and policy analysts from OMB, OSTP, and the NSC, there was arguably more attention given to space issues than under any other presidential administration. The centrality of Mark Albrecht and Richard Darman as key policy entrepreneurs for SEI provides evidence of staffer influence. Although strong presi­dential support was a requisite component for pushing the initiative onto the national agenda, having a dedicated staff working on these issues was an important factor.

Presidential appointees were also among the most frequently discussed actors in the agenda setting process. Ninety-six percent of those surveyed considered presi­dential appointees very or somewhat important—-very important represented 81%. As NASA Administrator, Admiral Truly was heavily relied upon to advocate on SEI’s behalf. Although several commentators have questioned whether he was ever sincerely supportive of the undertaking, he was critically important in shaping the proposal that was eventually embraced by Vice President Quayle. The full member­ship of the Space Council added to the influence of political appointees under the Bush administration. With regard to SEI, however, these cabinet-level officials were not heavily engaged during the agenda setting process.

Congress is among the most frequently discussed actors within the space policy arena, although it was seen as significantly less important than the administra­tion—the opposite of what Kingdon found when looking at social and economic policy. Ninety-three percent of those surveyed considered Congress very or some­what important—but very important only represented 36%. Kingdon found that when a presidential administration decides to put forth a proposal, consulting with

Congress can be crucial for the eventual adoption of the initiative—although this doesn’t necessarily mean it won’t otherwise reach the national agenda. The Bush administration overlooked the importance of conferring with Congress when con­sidering SEI. Although Quayle and Truly did brief key members of Congress, this was only after the initiative had been formulated and the decision had been made to go forward. There was never any effort to create a coalition of congressional sup­porters or to engage potential congressional policy entrepreneurs. Furthermore, the administration did not adjust any of its plans based on the reactions of the Con­gress—particularly in the case of important staffers. Within the space sector, these staffers were equally important as members of Congress. Ninety-two percent of those surveyed considered congressional staffers very or somewhat important—very important represented 42%. This significant influence is probably due to the fact that staffers can spend more time gaining an understanding of the relevant technical details. Similar to congressional members, the value of obtaining staffer support was overlooked by key policy entrepreneurs within the administration.4

For the most part, non-governmental actors were not considered to be influential in agenda setting within the space policy community. The primary exception was the aerospace industry and interest groups representing those companies, although even this group was considered far less important than government actors. Professional and public interest groups, academics and researchers, mass public opinion, and the media were all seen as having limited significance. The SEI case study appears to be consistent with these general findings. The White Fiouse briefed industry leaders before launching the initiative, but the less than enthusiastic response did not sway the administration from its course. Likewise, although several influential academics and researchers were briefed to gauge reaction to the initiative, they did not participate in SEI’s development. The media and public opinion played no part in bringing SEI to the national agenda.

The president cannot dominate alternative generation in the same way as agenda setting. This appears to be particularly true within the space arena, where the sci­entific and technical options require special training and significant effort. Only forty-one percent of those surveyed considered the president very or somewhat important—very important represented 13%. This lack of control over alternatives was one of the most important factors confronting successful adoption and imple­mentation of SEI. Due to a lack of in-house expertise, President Bush and Vice President Quayle were forced to turn to NASA to generate options for the explora­tion initiative. The agency, however, did not produce actual alternatives. Instead, the agency chose to put forward different timelines for the same basic approach. The lack of internal technical capability meant Bush and Quayle were largely at the mercy of NASA bureaucrats.

The presidential staff is considered to be among the most important actors in alternative generation. Eighty-seven percent of those surveyed considered the presidential staff very or somewhat important—very important represented 49% percent. Kingdon contended that the staff has sway because it is able to “engage in the detailed negotiations—with departments, the Hill, and the major inter­est groups—that will produce the Administrations proposals and that will clarify the Administrations bargaining positions.”5 In the case of SEI, the Space Council actually abdicated its authority to direct the alternative generation process when it allowed NASA to conduct the 90-Day Study in a policy vacuum. Without clear direction from the Council regarding key budgetary constraints, the space agency was allowed to produce a plan that didn’t match up with political reality.

Political appointees were mentioned as the most influential actors in the space sector. Ninety-six percent of those surveyed considered presidential appointees (e. g. NASA Administrator) very or somewhat important—very important represented

74%. Kingdon writes that there are few cases of confrontation between the White House and appointees because the latter “finds it prudent to bend with the presi­dential wind, and the President finds it politically embarrassing to be portrayed as being at war with his major advisors.”6 SEI was a clear exception to this rule. Admi­ral Truly clearly wasn’t a strong advocate for the initiative. Under his leadership, NASA flouted requests from the Space Council to provide President Bush with a variety of strategic and technical options. Instead, Truly was committed to carry­ing out a study that drew heavily on technical approaches that had been developed during the past several years by the NASA Office of Exploration—which resulted in the selection of a single program alternative.

Career civil servants have much more influence on alternative generation than on the space agenda. Ninety-three percent of those surveyed considered career civil servants as very or somewhat important—very important represented 60%. Without doubt, NASA civil servants played a crucial role in the alternative genera­tion process for SEI. The TSG was the most important actor in producing options for the initiative—even though it ultimately developed a single highly expensive alternative. The Space Council was highly critical of this result, but was equally to blame because it failed to provide the agency with clear, written guidance adequately explaining the key constraints facing SEI. Combined with Admiral Trulys reluc­tance to fully support the initiative, this ultimately doomed its chances for adoption and implementation.

Although Congress is a somewhat important actor for alternative generation in the space sector, it is not considered to be among the most influential. Seventy-three percent of those surveyed considered Congress very or somewhat important—but very important only represented 24% percent. As with the agenda, within the space arena it appears that it is crucial to consult with Congress to understand the con­straints facing specific program alternatives—as opposed to members of Congress actually developing those options. With regard to SEI, Congress was never brought into this process. Likewise, congressional staffers were not terribly influential in alternative generation. Eighty-four percent of those surveyed considered congres­sional staffers very or somewhat important—-very important represented only 33% percent. Unlike in other issue areas, where staffers become heavily involved in draft­ing legislation and negotiating agreements between interested parties, most Hill staffers lack the expertise to develop the very detailed technical plans needed for an initiative like SEI. This has often resulted in mission agencies like NASA having an inordinate amount of influence over the alternative generation process.

With a few exceptions, the non-government actors examined do not have a great deal of impact on the alternative generation process. Interest groups representing the

aerospace industry were considered only somewhat influential—professional and advocacy groups were much less important. Academics and researchers affect alter­natives more than agendas, primarily because they can match the technical expertise enjoyed by civil servants at NASA. For this very reason, the aerospace industry itself was deemed to be the most influential non-government actor. This is not surprising considering the fact that throughout the history of the space program, government contractors have frequently been turned to during the development of technical alternatives. In the case of SEI, non-government actors had no discernible impact on the initial generation of alternatives. During the course of the 90-Day Study, the TSG did not seek inputs from any of the outside actors with the capability to generate strategic and technical options for the initiative. Instead, the agency relied solely on its own expertise and judgment. In the end, the outcome was a process that resulted in the production of a single alternative.

A great many people provided me with assistance during the preparation of this book. I am particularly indebted to John Logsdon and Roger Launius for their invaluable insights regarding the history of the American space program, the role of various actors within the space policy community, and the context in which Mars exploration should be viewed. I also owe a great deal to Steve Balia and Jeff Henig, who helped me employ the political science and public policy theories that are used in this book. I would also like to thank Ray Williamson and Joe Cordes for their support and helpful comments. I am also very grateful for all the hard work contributed by Steve Dick and Steve Garber getting this book ready for publica­tion. I would like to thank Heidi Pongratz at Maryland Composition, Angela Lane and Danny Nowlin at Stennis Space Center, and Jeffrey McLean at NASA Head­quarters for handling the copyediting, layout, and printing of the book. Finally, I would like to thank the dedicated archivists at both the NASA History Divi­sion in Washington, D. C. and the George Bush Presidential Library at Texas A&M – they were all crucial to the successful completion of this project. In particular, I would like to thank Colin Fries and Jane Odom at the NASA History Division and Debbie Carter, Bob Holzweiss, John Laster, Laura Spencer, and Melissa Walker at the George Bush Presidential Library.

This book is dedicated to Joe Hogan, for teaching me how to dream big dreams; to Ron Beck, for believing in my potential when few others did; and to Kate Kuva – lanka, for inspiring me on a daily basis

After his election, President-elect Bush set upon the task of selecting a White House staff and appointing a cabinet. During the campaign, President Reagan took extraordinary measures to ease the new presidents transition into office. This was the first time in six decades that a president of one party was succeeded through election by a president of the same party. James Pfiffner argues in Presidential Transi­tions: The Reagan to Bush Experience, “The fact that the transition to a Bush admin­istration was a ‘friendly takeover’ [meant] there was no rush, as there would be with any party-turnover transition, to ensure that the opposition political party was out of office as soon as possible.”11 In retrospect, this proved to be a mixed blessing for the White House when it came to appointing a new NASA administrator. Changing the space agency’s political leadership was not a top priority for the Bush transition team. Administrator Fletcher had returned to the space program in the aftermath of the Challenger accident to get NASA back on its feet. While it was assumed that he would choose to return to the private sector, there was no perceived hurry in find­ing his replacement. In coming years, this relatively laid-back approach to naming a new administrator would come back to haunt the White House.

In December 1988, President-elect Bush received a report from the National Academy of Sciences and National Academy of Engineering (NAS/NAE) that pro­vided recommendations for determining the proper role for the civil space program with respect to other claims on federal resources. The NAS/NAE team, chaired

by H. Guyford Stever, decided that the most important policy question that Bush needed to address after taking office regarded the future of the space station pro­gram. The study found that “a permanently manned space station is needed to maintain a viable manned spaceflight capability for the United States. However, its primary justification is to establish the feasibility of human exploration beyond Earth’s orbit.” Thus, the report argued that final decisions regarding the pace of station development and its final configuration should be made in the context of long-term goals for the space program. The report contended that attaining space leadership required a civil space program with two structural components. First, NASA must have a base competency in all forms of space activities to ensure the fea­sibility of a wide-range of large initiative alternatives. These fundamental capabili­ties included: assured access to space; a respectable space science and Earth remote sensing program; and sufficient funding for advanced technology development. The report estimated that this foundational element would cost $10 billion per year. Second, NASA should adopt a long-term strategy for major human spaceflight initiatives serving scientific, political, cultural, and foreign policy objectives. The report argued that these projects should be funded separately from the base pro­gram, primarily to avoid the erosion of crucial capabilities. Potential initiatives that the study team identified were: the space station; a permanent return to the moon; and a human mission to Mars. The report approximated the annual expenditure for these endeavors at between $3 and $4 billion. The NAS/NAE team also suggested that President-elect Bush should take advantage of opportunities offered by coop­erative endeavors with other space faring nations, which would provide costs savings and political, scientific, and technical benefits.[96] Although this approach seemed to match the budgetary realities facing the space program, it was not seriously consid­ered by the incoming administration or NASA.

During the transition period, a four-person team was established within NASA and tasked with studying open issues facing the civil space program. Led by Brad Mitchell, the team spent the two months before the Bush inauguration prepar­ing a report for whoever would eventually replace Fletcher.[97] In mid-January, the NASA Transition Office Contact Team submitted its briefing report for the NASA Administrator-Designate, who was expected to be appointed sometime in the late spring. The transition team concluded that the space agency’s strategic planning must be carried out, taking into account the Administration’s concerns about the budget deficit. Therefore, it found that an efficient priority-setting mechanism was needed to achieve the most value for NASA’s budgeted dollars.[98] The briefing report further outlined the major space programs and themes that President Bush spoke about during the campaign. The transition team argued that one of the most impor­tant tasks for the new administrator would be to assist the President in prioritizing these programs. The study separated the various space issues into seven categories: policy formulation; exploration and scientific research; aeronautics and technology development; commercial initiatives; international cooperation; national security; and science and mathematics education. With regard to policy formulation, one of the first tasks for the new administration would be the creation of a National Space Council chaired by Vice President Dan Quayle—Congress had mandated this the previous year.[99] The primary duty of this organization would be to “set ambitious goals for a space comeback and re-establish U. S. preeminence in space.” With rela­tion to human exploration, the study made clear that the primary near-term objec­tive was to develop an operational space station by 1996. While the report men­tioned the Reagan administration’s space policy that called for human exploration beyond Earth orbit, it did not specifically suggest whether the Bush administration should make that same commitment. Instead, the transition team discussed pro­grams that would lay the foundation for such undertakings, including: development of an aerospace plane; advancement of pathfinder technologies; and construction of heavy-lift launch vehicles.[100] Beyond setting out the Bush administrations basic ideas about the space program, the hastily prepared Mitchell Report added little to the ongoing debate regarding human exploration beyond Earth orbit. The contact team itself implied that the next NASA Administrator and President Bush should make strategic policy decisions based on more authoritative studies like the Ride Report and Beyond Earth’s Boundaries. Therefore, as the new Bush administration came to power, it was still unclear what direction it would take with regard to future human exploration of the Moon and Mars.

The Punctuated Equilibrium Model provides a useful tool for better understand­ing trends within the space policy arena. In particular, it supplies metrics that can be applied to evaluate whether these long-term movements predetermined SEI’s fate. A mixture of policy image and venue indicators was drawn upon to conduct this assessment. These results provide a mixed picture regarding the potential for human exploration of Mars to reach the national agenda and obtain support for success­ful adoption. During the first 30 years of the space age, backing for both the space program and human exploration of Mars fluctuated a great deal within the Ameri­can public and key institutional venues. Throughout this period, Mars exploration never reached the same levels of support that other projects (e. g., Project Apollo, Space Shuttle, and Space Station) enjoyed. While several indicators suggest there was growing support for the space program in general (and crewed Mars explora­tion in particular) by the late 1980s, a dramatic 20-year decline in space program budgets called into question the viability of a costly new initiative.

Baumgartner and Jones elected to study media coverage to gauge trends in policy image. The primary information source they utilized was The Readers’ Guide to Peri­odical Literature.[344] They coded the number and tone of articles written in a given year to set the context for the agenda process in a given issue area. The first step in this process was to choose the proper keywords to ensure that all of the appropriate articles were included. The results were then entered into a spreadsheet, where they were further coded by different subtopics. One concern was that looking at only one index would not fully capture the nature of public opinion regarding specific issues. Baumgartner and Jones found, however, that “when we compare levels and tone of coverage in the Readers’ Guide with those of other major news outlets…it makes little difference which index one uses.”[345] For this book, the above methodol­ogy for monitoring the public agenda was adopted in almost every respect. Articles were tabulated from 1957 to 1996, coding them for topic and tone. Due to the extraordinarily large number of articles examining different aspects of the space program, only articles relating to human exploration were coded. Six broad topics were chosen to compare different exploration areas: Moon, Mars, Space Shuttle, Space Station, Orbital Flight (non-Shuttle or Station), and an “Other” category that encompassed articles relating to other destinations in the solar system or interstellar flight. To code each article’s tone, a basic question was asked: would an advocate of an American human exploration program, managed by a civilian sector agency, be happy or unhappy with the title? Over 6,500 articles were coded in this way.

During the early years of the space age, while the popular press was clearly focused on NASA’s efforts to orbit the first American and send humans to the Moon, Mars exploration was largely overlooked. Media coverage for crewed missions to the red planet was trivial compared to other space efforts. Although there were only a small number of articles, media coverage of Mars exploration during the Apollo era was largely supportive, with nearly 90% of the items positive in tone. Coverage slowly increased and reached an initial peak of nearly 20 articles in 1969, when post – Apollo planning was taking place within the federal government. By the 1970s, in the aftermath of the failed effort to push crewed missions to Mars onto the national agenda, media coverage plummeted to at most one article every couple of years. During this period, the majority of media attention focused on Space Shuttle devel­opment, the Skylab space station, and the Apollo-Soyuz Test Flight Program. Over the course of the 1980s, media coverage of Mars exploration began growing again, although it was still dwarfed by the Shuttle and Space Station Freedom programs. This increase was the result of “softening up” activities like the Case for Mars confer­ences, the National Commission on Space, and the Ride Report. By the end of the decade, as SEI reached the national agenda, reporting of crewed Mars exploration represented a significant portion of total coverage. While the reporting was highly supportive, there was no massive increase in attention as there had been for Project Apollo. Regardless, coverage of Mars exploration reached all time highs after Presi­dent Bush announced SEI, with over 20 articles written annually. In the aftermath of the initiatives failure, however, media attention plummeted. By the mid-1990s, fewer than ten articles were being written per year as the Clinton administration focused on completion of the International Space Station.

Baumgartner and Jones found that survey research, if available in a system­atic form, is another data resource for observing changes in policy image. Survey research has become a progressively more important tool for policy analysts and policy makers.[346] The polling data utilized for this book was compiled by the NASA History Division and reveals interesting trends in mass public opinions regarding the American space program. During the post-Apollo planning period, the vast majority of the American public believed that the NASA budget was too large. This provides a compelling reason for the failure of human exploration of Mars to garner support from President Nixon. Over the next 20 years, however, this attitude toward the NASA budget shifted significantly. In the years leading up to the announcement of SEI, there was a relatively high level of support for the space program. By the late 1980s, the majority of Americans believed that NASA spending was either just right or needed to be increased. In 1989, the year that SEI was announced, that figure reached sixty percent for only the fifth time in the post-Apollo era. Despite this rela­tively high level of public support for NASA, human exploration of Mars was still seen as a lesser priority. Robotic exploration of the solar system and construction of a crewed space station consistently received more support from the general public. Regardless, when the initiative was announced, more than 60% of the public sup­ported establishment of a human outpost on Mars.

As SEI began experiencing difficulties and NASA was dealing with problems in the Hubble and Shuttle programs, however, those numbers began dropping once again—falling to below 50% by December 1990. Although these numbers would eventually recover slightly, by that time the policy window for Mars exploration had already closed.

While examining media coverage and opinion polls provides information relat­ing to policy image, other measures are needed to evaluate venue access. Four dif­ferent indicators were selected for this book to monitor changes in venue access for space policy issues. The first indicator relied upon an analysis of the Congres­sional Information Service Abstracts (CIS annual)—a yearly compilation of data on Congressional hearings. In the late 1990s, Baumgartner and Jones established the Center for American Politics and Public Policy to provide researchers with tools to better understand the dynamics of policy change. Under the auspices of the center, more than 67,000 congressional hearings were classified using a common policy content code to ensure compatibility over time.[347] [348] [349] For the purposes of this book, the entire CIS annual dataset was downloaded. A separate dataset was created, which included only hearings that related to the American space program. This dataset included over 550 hearings covering the years from 1958 to 1994.11 The second indicator utilized to monitor changes in venue access, which will be discussed in concert with the CIS annual, relied upon an analysis of the Public Papers of the Presi­dents.11 For this study, a methodology similar to that used for coding the Readers’ Guide was employed. Presidential addresses and speeches were coded by topic from 1957 to 1996. This included all papers relating to the civilian space program. These papers were then used to assess trends in venue access for agenda items relating to the American space program.

During the 1960s, presidential support for the nations space program reached its apex. President Kennedy’s decision to send humans to the Moon initiated a decade of close White House attention.[350] Through the ’60s, Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon delivered well over 400 addresses and speeches relating to the civilian

space program. At the height of interest in Project Apollo, presidential addresses and speeches frequently topped 40 per year—and reached as high as 70. This indicated significant access to an important policy venue (e. g. The White House). Similarly, Congressional interest in space exploration peaked during this period.[351] In particu­lar, there was a pronounced spike in congressional interest following the Apollo 1 fire that killed three astronauts (see Figure on page 152).

By the mid-1970s, the number of presidential speeches and addresses had plunged below ten annually as NASA concentrated on building the Space Shuttle and send­ing robotic probes to explore the solar system. While Congressional attention dipped below Apollo era levels as well, the number of space-related hearings remained rela­tively stable at about 15 a year. This was primarily due to annual appropriation and authorization hearings. As the Space Shuttle began operations during the 1980s, presidential addresses and speeches began slowly rising again—with increased inter­est surrounding the decision to build the Space Station and in the aftermath of the Challenger accident. Although Congressional interest remained steady during this period, there were noticeable spikes in interest surrounding the first Space Shuttle flight and as Congress held hearings following Challenger.

While presidential interest in the space program was relatively high during the SEI era, congressional support was not particularly robust. President Bush was clearly interested in the space program, as evidenced by his espousal of human mis­sions to the Moon and Mars. During his presidency, he made a number of signifi­cant space policy speeches, most directly related to gaining support for SEI. Still, compared with presidential attention during the first decade of spaceflight and even during the Reagan administration, Bush made fewer annual speeches and addresses relating to the space program. On its face, it would appear that Mars exploration had only modest access to this important policy venue during the Bush presidency. This discounts, however, the important role played by Vice President Quayle and the Space Council staff during this period. Combining the involvement of Bush and Quayle with a dedicated internal policy staff to work on space issues, this admin­istration was probably more engaged in this arena than any other during the post – Apollo period. In contrast, Congressional interest was relatively low at this time. After a peak following the loss of the Challenger, Congressional attention waned as the Bush administration was pushing for SEI. The next peak did not occur until the problems with the Hubble and Space Shuttle programs came to the fore. This indi­cates that during the post-Apollo period, Congress has been highly reactive to prob­lems within the space program. At the same time, it has not been terribly engaged during relatively calm periods. The lack of access to this critical venue was likely a contributing factor in the eventual failure of SEI.

A third indicator utilized to monitor venue access relied upon an analysis of technical strategies for human exploration of the Moon and Mars. This metric pro­vided insight into Mars explorations ability to garner attention within a key policy venue—the federal bureaucracy (e. g. NASA). In 1996, NASA Johnson Space Center Historian David Portree created a website called Romance to Reality: Moon and Mars Plans. It was a comprehensive catalog of classic, seminal, and illustrative human exploration plans. The majority of these studies were conducted under the auspices of government agencies and private sector companies.[352] The site included detailed summaries and descriptions of reports dating back more than five decades.[353] Portree emphasized studies that emerged as important to later mission planning, but also included reports that helped illustrate essential strategic architectures. For this book, the above reports were used to observe trends, both inside and outside the federal government, in the generation of Moon-Mars exploration plans. Each report from 1950 to 1996 was coded using the same three categories Portree employed: Moon plan, Mars plan, and Moon/Mars plan. Nearly 300 technical studies were coded in this way.[354]

During the course of the 1950s, eight major studies were conducted by govern­ment agencies and aerospace companies as part of the “softening up” process for Mars exploration. The following decade, as NASA was working full throttle to meet President Kennedy’s lunar landing deadline, more than 50 Mars exploration studies were conducted in preparation for a post-Apollo space program. Despite its growing

profile within the space agency, however, Mars exploration had relatively low vis­ibility with the American public. Likewise, it was not supported by President Nixon or Congress—which led to its exclusion from post-Apollo planning. In the 1970s, NASA’s official interest in crewed exploration of the red planet basically disappeared. An illustration of this fact is that the space agency did not conduct one major Mars – related study from 1972 to 1985. At the same time, however, private actors kept the dream alive by generating over 20 reports. These were partially responsible for the Reagan administration’s decision to place human exploration beyond Earth orbit on the national agenda. By the time President Bush announced SEI, Mars exploration had greater access to the bureaucratic venue than at any other time in the first 40 years of spaceflight. During the four years of the Bush administration, over 35 dif­ferent studies were conducted. The dilemma for the Space Council, however, was that the politically infeasible 90-Day Study became so closely associated with the initiative.

While the three preceding venue access indicators suggest that by the late-1980s there were favorable trends supporting a major new human spaceflight initiative, a final indicator paints a very different picture—the federal budget. At the height of Project Apollo, NASA’s budget was $6 billion, or about 4.5% of the entire federal budget. This represented an extremely large financial commitment to the American space program, which was allocated primarily in an effort to beat the Soviets to the Moon. By the time Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed in the Sea ofTranquil – ity, NASA’s budget had already begun a rapid decline. Although Congress remained

engaged in the space program during the next two decades, it was nevertheless steadily cutting NASA’s budget from its Apollo peak. The mid-1970s saw a bud­getary low of $3-25 billion, with budgets increasing slightly into the early 1980s. More significantly, the NASA budget dropped to under 1% of the entire federal budget—where it would remain permanently except for a three-year period in the early 1990s. Despite the fact that it had experienced steadily decreasing resources, NASA continued to conduct its program planning by assuming that it would receive future budget increases. This tendency to overcommit itself did not foretell a positive result for NASA-led development of another major exploration initiative. While the Bush administration increased funding for NASA, the available resources were far below those available during the mid-1960s. There was little public or congressional support for dramatically increasing the NASA budget. This did not bode well for SEI, which as envisioned by the TSG would have required doubling or tripling the annual allocation for NASA.

Baumgartner and Jones’s approach to studying agenda change provides an inter­esting perspective for understanding larger themes within the American space pro­gram. Using policy image and venue access indicators not only reveals interesting trends, it provides insight into factors that helped SEI reach the national agenda but dramatically reduced its chances of gaining Congressional support. As discussed above, there have been striking shifts in media coverage over the past four decades. During the nine years after President Kennedy announced the Moon decision, over 2,100 human spaceflight-related articles were written (an average of 235 annually). During the subsequent nine years, as NASA was developing the Shuttle, under 1,200 articles were written (125 annually). The ten years after the Shuttle began opera­tions, including those years following the Challenger accident, saw another upward shift with nearly 2,200 articles written (220 annually). This included increased cov­erage of Mars exploration, which was largely positive in tone. Finally, during the eight years after President Bush announced SEI, coverage plummeted to fewer than 1,000 articles (110 annually). This trend suggests that there have been relatively extended periods of general excitement about the space program within the general public (which resulted in significant media coverage), but that these periods have been followed by equally long periods where the public becomes disengaged. These declines in overall media attention seem to be correlated with periods of poor eco­nomic performance and tightening federal budgets. SEI came to the fore toward the end of a cycle of increased media coverage, which enhanced the likelihood it would successfully reach the national agenda. At the same time, however, an examination of past polling data reveals that economic forces were working against any dramatic increase in NASA’s annual appropriation. In the end, these budgetary pressures were far more important than any perceived public support for Mars exploration.

An analysis of the Public Papers of the Presidents and the CIS annual reveals that the White House and Congress are largely reactive when it comes to addressing space policy issues. Past presidents have delivered the majority of their speeches in reaction to programmatic successes and failures. Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon gave regular speeches during the triumphant Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo programs, while President Reagan spoke out primarily in the aftermath of the Chal­lenger accident.[355] The fact that President Bush delivered a relatively large number of space-related speeches during his tenure suggests that the space program had significant White House access during this period. This is particularly true because there were no great successes or failures of a similar magnitude during Bush’s presi­dency. Combined with Vice President Quayle’s heavy involvement in space policy making, this represented one of the most active administrations in this issue area. Access to this important institutional venue made possible the elevation of SEI to the national agenda. The relative lack of congressional interest, however, tremen­dously reduced the initiative’s chances of actual adoption. The space program has enjoyed relatively stable congressional attention, with significant peaks after major failures (i. e., Apollo 1, Challenger, Hubble). When SEI was being considered, there was a clear lull in congressional interest as the legislature focused on an imposing budget crisis. While this did not necessarily preclude adoption of any new human spaceflight program, it did indicate that promotion of projects requiring large bud­getary increases was ill-conceived.

An examination of past technical reports shows that there were two clear periods of interest in Mars exploration, one leading up to post-Apollo planning and another leading up to the announcement of SEI. Prior to both attempts to garner support for adoption of such a program, NASA and non-government actors conducted a steadily increasing number of studies that provided the technical background for the eventual policy alternatives that were considered. Particularly in the case of SEI, this indicates that significant bureaucratic forces were aligned to force an aggressive exploration program onto the national agenda. As discussed above, the fiscal con­straints quashed these plans. The federal budget is the single most effective indica­tor for evaluating the potential for bringing about dramatic programmatic change at NASA. Budgetary trends expose Project Apollo as a clear outlier in the history of the space program, where a unique political environment led to the program’s adoption. Subsequent experience has proven that without the emergence of a similar crisis environment, the space program will not receive a large infusion of resources to carry out aggressive human spaceflight programs. SEI’s failure is the quintessential example of this lesson. Regardless of bureaucratic desires, technical plans for human exploration beyond Earth orbit must be fiscally feasible.

The policy image and venue access indicators utilized for this study provide a relatively consistent picture regarding the potential for SEI to reach the national agenda and to be successfully adopted. With regard to agenda setting, a combina­tion of metrics suggests that Mars exploration would receive favorable consideration as the long-term goal of the human spaceflight program. These included increased media coverage of Mars exploration, general public support for the establishment of a Martian outpost, and a growing number of reports providing the technical details for such an undertaking. Combined with strong support from the Bush White House, this virtually guaranteed that the initiative would be pushed onto the national agenda. With regard to actual adoption, however, a number of other indicators suggest that SEI faced an uphill battle. Most important among these were fiscal constraints, limited public support for increased NASA budgets, and no con­gressional backing for expensive new programs. While a less costly Mars exploration program may have been able to gain approval under these circumstances, after the release of the 90-Day Study, the ultimate failure of SEI was assured.

While the above analysis provides some evidence that both the Policy Streams Model and Punctuated Equilibrium Model provide valuable insight into the rise and fall of SEI, a concluding discussion is in order to generalize these findings beyond this specific case study. This is logically assessed by answering a simple question: Do we know something about SEI we wouldn’t have without using these two models? There are at least three potential answers—a lot, a little, or nothing at all. It seems

like the most defensible answer lies in the middle. To start with, although we may instinctively have a sense of who the important actors are within a given policy community, Kingdon provides an effective framework for quantifying these beliefs. The survey used for this book was designed to determine whether the appropriate actors were involved in the policy process for SEI. While we may have come to the same conclusion even if we didn’t have the survey results, they provide some actual data to back up our assumptions. This survey, or some instrument like it, could just as easily be used to better understand the policy community for other science and technology issue areas. More importantly, it has the ability to provide policy makers with a real world tool for deciding who to engage during the agenda setting and alternative generation processes.

The operational indicators introduced by Baumgartner and Jones, and those developed specifically for this book, also provide a potentially valuable tool for sci­ence and technology researchers. Most of these indicators provide good data for large issue areas. For example, the data collected for this book provides revealing trends for space policy as a whole. The data is not as good, however, when one drills down to the next level of detail. Public opinion polls, presidential speeches, and congressional hearings can only be used to gauge large scale trends within an entire field. They cannot easily be used to examine specific issues within this area, such as interest in Mars exploration or space science or orbiting space stations. Although it requires a good amount of effort, it is possible to use data sources like media coverage and technical studies to gain some appreciation of interest in these more specific issue areas. Overall, however, these indicators are a bit cumbersome to use—although this would be made easier if this data, regarding space policy issues in particular, were readily available to policy makers. That is not currently the case, which makes the use of this set of indicators somewhat impractical in the real world.

Therefore, the Policy Streams Model and Punctuated Equilibrium Modelvs>iz pro­vided an understanding of the failure of SEI that the case study alone may not have provided. We have better insight regarding who the important actors are within the space policy community, which reveals weaknesses in the agenda setting and alter­native generation processes for SEI. We have a better insight regarding larger trends within the space policy arena (i. e., public opinion, congressional attention, federal budgets) that conspired against the adoption of this costly human spaceflight initia­tive. This type of data not only informs an academic work like this book, but can (and probably should) be used by policy makers in the real world. There does not seem to be any reason why these methodologies could not be applied widely within the science and technology policy field. While this would clearly require a good amount of work, both compiling the data and periodically updating it, the potential benefits for successful agenda setting and alternative generation processes would be worth the effort.

“Why Mars? Because it is humanity’s destiny to strive, to seek, to
find. And because it is America’s destiny to lead. ”

President George Bush, 20 July 19891

Sitting on the steps of the Smithsonian Institution’s National Air and Space Museum on 20 July 2004, it was difficult to imagine that fifteen years earlier at this place the fiercest domestic political conflict of the first space age commenced. Bright-eyed children poured off tour buses and hurried to examine the museum’s wonders, teachers and parents close behind with digital cameras ready. They lined up to touch a four billion year-old lunar rock, clamored around the Apollo 11 Com­mand Module Columbia, and gazed up at an ungainly Lunar Module— monuments to past American triumphs in space. It was on a similarly hot and muggy Washing­ton morning that President George Bush had used this location to announce a renewed commitment to human exploration beyond Earth orbit. Even before this declaration, however, the winds of war had been swirling in the nation’s capital.

On the 20th anniversary of the first human landing on the Moon, President Bush had stood atop these very steps and proposed a long-range exploration plan that included the successful construction of an orbital space station, a permanent return to the Moon, and a human mission to Mars—this enterprise became known as the Space Exploration Initiative (SEI). The president charged the newly rees­tablished National Space Council with providing concrete alternatives for meeting these objectives. To provide overall focus for the new initiative, Bush later set a 30- year goal for a crewed landing on Mars. If met, humans would be walking on the red [1] planet by 2019, which would be the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 lunar land­ing. Within a few short years after President Bush’s Kennedyesque announcement, however, the initiative had faded into history—the victim of a flawed policy process and a political war fought on several different fronts. The failure of SEI, combined with problems ranging from the Hubble Space Telescope’s flawed mirror to space shuttle fuel leaks to space station budget problems, badly damaged the National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s (NASA) image and prompted dramatic changes in the American space program.

The rise of SEI and its eventual demise represents one of the landmark episodes in the history of the American space program—ranking with the creation of NASA, the decision to go to the Moon, the post-Apollo planning process, and the space station decision. The story of this failed initiative is one shaped by key protagonists and critical battles. It is a tale of organizational, cultural, and personal confron­tation. Organizational skirmishes involved the Space Council versus NASA, the White House versus congressional appropriators, and the Johnson Space Center versus the rest of the space agency—all seeking control of the national space policy process. Cultural struggles pitted the increasingly conservative engineering ethos of NASA against the “faster, better, cheaper” philosophy of a Space Council looking for innovative solutions to technical problems. Personality clashes matched Vice President Dan Quayle and Space Council Executive Secretary Mark Albrecht against NASA Administrator Dick Truly and Johnson Space Center Director Aaron Cohen. In the final analysis, the demise of SEI was a classic example of a defective deci­sion-making process—one that lacked adequate high-level policy guidance, failed to address critical fiscal constraints, developed inadequate programmatic alternatives, and garnered no congressional support. Some space policy experts have argued that SEI was doomed to fail, due primarily to the immense budgetary pressures facing the nation during the early 1990s.[2] This book will argue, however, that the failure of the initiative was not predetermined; instead, it was the result of a deeply flawed policy process that failed to develop (or even consider) policy options that may have been politically acceptable given the existing political environment.