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.