Category Why Mars

On August 28, CAIB released its report on the Columbia disaster. It found that the immediate, technical cause of the shuttle accident was a chunk of foam that had been jarred loose during takeoff and hit a vulnerable part of the shuttle with sufficient force to cause a rupture. On entering Earth’s atmosphere, the enormous heat that built up penetrated the shuttle and caused it to disintegrate. CAIB went beyond the technical explanation to score NASA on numerous or­ganizational fronts, all of which revealed the agency to be less vigilant than it should have been. Finally, it went beyond even NASA to criticize the “failure of national leadership” in space policy. National leaders had not had the will to replace the aging shuttle or provide the vision and money a robust human space program required. CAIB wanted a national policy response—a new vision for the space program. CAIB urged the president and Congress to give NASA a higher purpose for risking human lives, one that was greater than sending people around and around in near-Earth orbit.

Following the publication of the CAIB report, Congress held hearings, mak­ing its own inquiry about what had gone wrong and what specifically NASA was doing to improve the safety situation. The congressional hearing showed that many lawmakers wanted NASA to have a bolder goal and grander “vision” than it had. Exactly what that might be was undecided, however.27

In his first year, O’Keefe had not wanted to talk about destinations. After Columbia, and particularly the new pressures for a bold and clear vision, he was open to possibilities. He understood that that vision would ultimately have to come from the president.

Prior to Columbia, Bush had shown little interest in space. After Columbia, he said “our journey into space will go on.” But what did that mean? O’Keefe, using the leverage he had owing to his connections with Vice President Cheney, organized a small but high-level interagency group of White House and cabinet officials to recommend an answer to that question. The chair of the group was Steve Hadley, deputy director of the National Security Council.28 It was delib­erately a “trans-NASA” body, an attribute that would potentially help it make a recommendation with a more “national policy” base.

The group met periodically behind closed doors in the summer and well into the fall. It considered a range of possibilities. O’Keefe wanted a big decision, but also one that was affordable. Over time, the group decided that a return to the Moon made sense technically and financially. Bush, informed of the committee’s

preliminary thinking, indicated that the Moon was not exciting enough. He wanted to add Mars, much as his father had, in his aborted Moon-Mars initia­tive. The culmination of the planning effort came on December 19. O’Keefe, Cheney, Hadley, presidential science advisor John Marburger, top political advi­sor Karl Rove, and others gathered in the Oval Office with Bush. After looking at decision papers and budget numbers, Bush noted that the decision stressed return to the Moon. “This is more than just about the Moon, isn’t it?” he asked. With some prompting from Cheney, the group responded with “yes.” “Well,” said the president, “let’s do it!” He told Hadley to work out the time and place for the official announcement.29

On April 2, 2007, Alan Stern, age 50, joined NASA. A one-time astronaut candi­date, Stern had a $5.4 billion budget to manage and a constituency up in arms. He pledged to wring more good science out of his budget and to stop “manage­ment by checkbook,” that is, constantly adding money to projects beyond their original cost estimates. Either principal investigators would manage projects within costs, or they would risk project cancellations, he said.63 “There are going to be things I do that cause pain.”64

Griffin had appointed Stern in part to help him deal with the scientific com­munity. Cleave had never been truly accepted by the community. Stern bolstered his office’s status by appointing John Mather to be his chief scientist. Mather was a cowinner of the Nobel Prize for Physics in 2006 for his discoveries connected with the big bang. With Stern (planets) and Mather (telescopes) in charge, space scientists had to take the NASA science leadership seriously.65

Griffin, meanwhile, continued to criticize the scientific community. In May, he accused NAS of failing to take account of realistic costs in its decadal surveys of space science needs. The NAS SSB, he charged, routinely—and dramati­cally—underestimated costs and then complained when NASA scaled back or cancelled projects the science body favored. An NAS spokesman acknowledged that Griffin had a point.66

Stern reinforced Griffin, explaining that scientists were involved in a zero – sum game. Echoing Marburger, he noted that to make room for new projects, NASA would have to turn off long-running projects. One of the longest-run­ning and most celebrated projects under Stern’s aegis was that of Spirit and Opportunity. In May, Spirit made a major discovery. It analyzed a patch of Mars soil that was extremely rich in silica. This provided some of the most convinc­ing evidence yet that ancient Mars was quite wet. The processes that generally produced such a concentrated deposit of silica required the presence of water.

“You could hear people gasp in astonishment,” said Squyres, the principal investigator. “This is a remarkable discovery. And the fact that we found some­thing this new and different after nearly 1200 days on Mars makes it even more remarkable. It makes you wonder what else is still out there.”67 Obviously, long – running, still-productive projects like the Mars Exploration Rovers would not go quietly, particularly when led by a scientist with a public relations sense like Squyres.

Stern was a change agent in temperament but, unlike Huntress, was uncom­fortable and unskilled in bureaucratic politics. Stern was impatient with the routines and constraints of operating in a complex organization. Huntress was a quiet entrepreneur. Stern was overt and public. Stern called his administrative philosophy “pragmatism,” and what he meant by that was “exchanging” more perfect solutions for more practical ones by using existing systems, modified to the least extent practical, to accelerate the pace of exploration.68 He applied that approach to Mars. The goal was MSR—this is what counted. To move the date for MSR closer would mean modifying the schedule of missions he inherited and converting MSL into even more a means toward MSR than it already was. In the long-standing tug-of-intellectual-war between leapers and gradualists, Stern was emphatically a leaper in the sense of wanting to get to MSR quickly.

The problem he had was resistance to the changes he wanted to impose and suspicions on the part of many Mars advocates about his motives. This was especially the case because he was seeking to innovate in a major way in a time of budget stasis. To do the new, he had to cut back on the old, including Mars projects that did not fit into his “pragmatic” philosophy. And he was in a hurry.

Griffin focused on human spaceflight and was reluctant to cope with the scientific community—a group he found vexing. He told Stern he would have a relatively free hand to run SMD. Stern took him seriously and told his staff he “had the keys to the program.”69 He wanted to reshape it in accord with his priorities. Many worried Mars advocates saw him as an “outer planets” man, but he vowed he also had a strong interest in Mars. However, he intended to move Mars research in a better direction. For example, one month after he arrived, JPL came to him asking for more money for MSL. He wanted that practice to stop. What he really wanted to do was to speed up MSR. As he recalled, “What I wanted was to give Mars Sample Return a higher priority. Since I was a boy, people have been talking about Mars Sample Return. I wanted to move it for­ward. . . . I wanted to get the first sample back as soon as possible—unlock the door. An imperfect sample return would be better than none at all.”

He spoke to Griffin and told him about his MSR priority. Griffin responded, “Let’s go.” And Stern was off and running.70 On July io, Stern used a telephone hookup to speak to some 500 Mars scientists attending the 7th International Conference on Mars. He said that it was time for NASA to target MSR in a seri­ous way. A new Mars astrobiology strategy recommended by the SSB set “analy­sis of a diverse suite of appropriate samples” as the highest-priority Mars science objective.71 In keeping with this recommendation, Stern said NASA needed to reorient the existing program as soon as possible in spite of the constrained budget. He proposed to begin by attaching equipment to MSL which would allow it to capture a sample of soil and rock as it moved across the Mars surface. “I think there’s something concrete about putting your stake in the ground,” he declared. Retrieving the sample would come later. Such a return mission would be costly, he stated, perhaps $3 billion to $4 billion. To get that kind of money would require skipping a mission between MSL and MSR. However, he said the lost mission would be worth it, given the significance of MSR. MSR would build support for the planetary program, he argued, in the scientific community, public, Congress, and OMB.

He pointed out that even at the present scaled-back level that the Mars pro­gram had undergone, it still absorbed almost half of all the money the planetary

program had—46%. The Mars community, he urged, should thread the needle. He warned that if the community did not opt for concentrating resources in the manner he described, the Mars budget would shrink. “That’s my analysis,” he said, “not my wish. . . that’s my analysis of the way the politics will go.” He called for an MSR mission in 2018. “Let’s get this done.. . make some history,” he exhorted.72

The Mars community reacted with considerable wariness. MSR was indeed the holy grail of the robotic program. It was the goal toward which the sequence of missions designed by Hubbard and implemented by Figueroa and now Mc – Cuistion moved, the culmination of the “follow-the-water” strategy. What sent a shiver through the community was the trade-off. Stern’s comment about drop­ping a mission to get the money sent a signal of alarm. Which mission? There were many Mars scientists who were not astrobiologists and had other technical interests. And would omitting one mission be enough?

Philip Christensen, a leading Mars scientist and professor of geological sci­ences at Arizona State University, spoke for many of his colleagues when he declared, “I am concerned that the sample return mission would take over the Mars program. If you put that mission too far in the future with not much in between, then you lose a lot of momentum. . . a lot of young talented scientists and engineers.” He saw “a real serious challenge” in carving out enough money in the near term to pay for MSR and still maintain a dynamic program.73

Zubrin wrote an op-ed in Space News entitled “Don’t Wreck the Mars Pro­gram.” He indicated that Stern was possibly thinking beyond killing one mission for MSR, to the point of considering sacrificing all missions, including the 2011 Scout project, to get money for sample return. Zubrin defended the robotic program as an essential precursor to human flight. “Since the origin a decade ago, the existing fly-every-opportunity robotic Mars program has proven to be a brilliant success.” He claimed to be no fan of Dan Goldin, but he gave the former NASA Administrator credit for launching a “sustained exploration program involving frequent launches” which created not only an infrastructure on Mars but a “proficient team competent to carry out ever more complex Mars missions.”74

Stern was undeterred by the criticism. He directed Ames to design a caching box for the MSL. Chris McKay, one-time Mars Underground leader and now an astrobiologist at Ames, was one who supported the push for MSR by starting with changes in the MSL rover. Indeed, he wanted to go further. He called on NASA and the Mars community to think not of one sample return mission, but a program of missions. The first sample return, he said, should be a “simple, pathfinder-like sample return… a technology demonstration.”

By using MSL to cache samples, NASA would get people to begin focusing on sample return as a goal, said McKay. “It ties sample return to the ongoing program. There’s a tendency to think of sample return as something ‘out there.’ … It doesn’t need to be. It can be something in the Mars program.” McKay argued that sample return had to “connect, ultimately, with human exploration of Mars.”75

The European Space Agency, meanwhile, expressed interest in cooperating with NASA on an MSR mission. NASA indicated openness to the possibility, and discussions began in a very general, long-range way.76 Stern had wasted no time in putting his stamp on the implementation of MEP.

As Stern planned what the next development steps in the Mars program would be, the operating program he inherited continued to move forward. In August, NASA launched the first Scout mission. In contrast to the other proj­ects, this mission was generated through a competition in the scientific com­munity and largely run by non-NASA scientists. A Scout mission was intended to be smaller in cost and personnel than a typical NASA/JPL venture. However, it had to be relevant to the NASA strategy, i. e., follow the water.

The goal of Phoenix, as designed by the University of Arizona’s Peter Smith, was to go near the Martian North Pole and “touch” water ice. From Lederberg’s entreaties at the time of Viking, there had been the view that near the poles there would be water (in the form of ice) and evidence of possible life. Phoe­nix would not be equipped to actually determine life issues. Moreover, it was stationary, not a rover. But at $400 million, it did carry a digging capability. It would try to penetrate the ice and see what characteristics it had that might be favorable or unfavorable to life. MPL had had this objective, but it had crashed. Phoenix “rose from the ashes” to take MPL’s place.77

As NASA dealt with two missions (Mars Exploration Rovers and MSL) in vary­ing stages along a project cycle, its longer-run hopes for the MAX-C mission rested considerably on ESA and ExoMars decisions. Dordain was having trou­ble getting consensus from the nations to which he reported. France and Britain expressed reluctance to commit to the 2016 planned launch because of questions about who did what in 2018. Dordain complained he had to have decisions by June 29-30, when the Industrial Policy Committee met. That way he could get contractors moving July 1. “If we are not ready to launch the orbiter in 2016, there is no 2018 mission. If I delay agreeing to ExoMars financing until ques­tions about the rover are settled, industry could later tell me I am responsible for their missing the 2016 launch window. I do not want this.” He expected to alleviate some of the concerns expressed about the 2018 mission through the letter from Bolden confirming NASA’s intention to jointly develop the 2018 mission with ESA. He expected that letter June 28.52

It arrived late in the day on June 29. Bolden wrote that NASA would do its utmost to commit to the 2018 mission by September 15, when it hoped to have more clarity about its budget prospects. At this point, Bolden did not know what resources he would have. That reality meant delay on the 2016 decision until September 29-30 when the Industrial Policy Committee would take up the issue again.

Dordain decided that ESA had sufficient existing authority to fund work on ExoMars 2016 to keep an industrial team working on it at a minimal level for a few months. This would enable the mission to go full speed later to make up time for the 2016 launch date—assuming the United States came through with assurance in September and the Industrial Policy Committee gave its go-ahead. Dordain and the Industrial Policy Committee did not wish to foreclose options. Doing nothing amounted to a decision to kill ExoMars 2016, and without the 2016 mission, the 2018 project could be in jeopardy.53

On July 7, Italian Space Agency president Enrico Saggese said that his agency would be willing to sacrifice an entry, descent, and landing module planned for the 2016 flight if that would put the project back on track. Italy’s sacrifice mattered. Italy was the biggest contributor to ExoMars 2016, with 33% of the

ESA budget. Saggese said Italy wanted the collaboration to survive and launch ExoMars 2018. Yannick d’Escatha, president of the French Space Agency (with 15% of the spending on the mission), said his agency would also be willing to sacrifice the entry and descent module to reduce the possibility of the 2016 mis­sion exceeding its budget and threatening the 2018 project.

ESA’s biggest hurdle was NASA’s inability to confirm its role in the 2018 rover mission. Bolden had asked ESA to wait until September, when he could say more about NASA’s commitment. But ESA worried that waiting until mid- September before fully approving the 2016 mission would compromise the 2016 launch date. Dordain decided that ESA would wait until October 1 to make a final decision, meaning it would continue to find the money to keep the con­tractor team going on a skeletal basis with short-term contracts. Missing the 2016 launch date would threaten the 2018 mission since the 2016 mission would provide a telecommunications relay the 2018 rover would need to send informa­tion back to Earth.54

Few individuals or institutions are truly “against” Mars exploration. Opponents are concerned with the issue of priority and whether Mars gets too much versus the outer planets or some other science (or nonscience) option. Throughout the history ofMars exploration, there have been “opponents” who are, in fact, advo­cates for another priority. Their rhetoric typically calls for “balance.” Likewise, there have always been those who oppose federal spending in general, especially for programs they see as nonurgent. Larger, macropolitical forces invariably impinge on decision making in a specific policy sector, such as space. Big science is an inviting target for budget cutters, whether in OMB or Congress.

There have been a number of pressing alternatives within space policy to Mars exploration over the decades, such as Earth’s Moon in the 1960s and Ju­piter’s moon, Europa, in the twenty-first century. Europa also may have life— under its ice. In late 2011, with level NASA funding, Mars came up against huge overruns in the James Webb Space Telescope. This project had extremely influential political support in Congress, more so than Mars. Mars Observer in the 1980s had to wait on the Hubble Space Telescope. Now Mars would wait on Hubble’s successor.

There is only so much money for big science (concentrated or distributed). Unless advocates of Mars make their case strongly and well, they will not neces­sarily get their way. It may be easier to cut a distributed big science program, like Mars, than one that is concentrated in structure, such as the James Webb Space Telescope. A specific mission within a distributed program can be extracted more easily than killing a massive concentrated program, at least one that is well along in implementation.

Politics is about “who gets what, when, and how.” Politics applies to plan­etary science as much as to other fields. Who is to say that Hubble was not deserving of being ahead in line for shuttle launch after the Challenger disas­ter set it against Mars Observer? Earth observation satellites relate to climate change and, arguably, the long-term survival of the human species. Advocates for this part of the space program have a legitimate case to make. Their advo­cates have done so. Proponents of human spaceflight continually press NASA— and, indirectly, robotic Mars missions—for resources. In the long run, human spaceflight and Mars exploration are mutually dependent. In the short run, they compete. Figueroa’s comment that the relationship between these two major NASA programs is akin to that between an elephant and a mouse is apt. NASA Administrator Bolden, in the wake of the Obama budget proposal for FY 2013, set in motion a planning effort for Mars which more strongly linked robotic and human spaceflight. Administrators have sought such a linkage before and sel­dom succeeded in forging a true partnership. The human and robotic programs represent two different cultures within NASA.

Unfortunately, there is never enough money for all worthy endeavors. Ad­vocates of alternatives to Mars become opponents of spending on robotic Mars flights even though that is not necessarily their intent. Similarly, flagship mis­sions become barriers to spending on “little science,” and there can be divisions within the Mars community. NASA centers vie with one another and with uni­versities and industry. The debate is not about good versus bad, but about vari­ous “goods.” Over the long haul, Mars exploration has advanced to the extent that it has prevailed over the “opposition,” or found ways to reach some measure of accommodation through alliances.