Category After Apollo?

Richard Nixon Talks about the Future in Space

President Nixon traveled to the Kennedy Space Center to view the November 14 launch of Apollo 12, the second lunar landing mission; in doing so, he became the first sitting U. S. president to witness an astronaut launch. The weather for the launch was “dismal,” but Nixon, his wife Pat, and his daugh­ter Tricia sat under umbrellas as the Saturn V lifted off through rain and low clouds, generating a lightning strike that threatened to abort the mission. Nixon called the launch “spectacular.”20

NASA Administrator Paine took the opportunity of Nixon’s presence at the launch to press his case for a NASA budget at the level the agency had requested. Paine had received the BOB allowance the previous day, and made sure the president knew of his unhappiness with it. Speaking to NASA employees in the launch control center after the Apollo 12 crew— Pete Conrad, Alan Bean, and Richard Gordon—were safely in orbit, Nixon commented on his reaction to seeing the launch in person. He compared it to seeing a football game live rather than on television, because “it is a sense of not just the sight and the picture but of feeling it—feeling the great experience of all that is happening.” Then, in his first public comments on the space program in the two months since the STG report was submitted, Nixon told the crowd

You can be assured that in Dr. Paine and his colleagues you have men who are dedicated to this program, who are making the case for it, making the case for it as against other national priorities and making it very effectively.

I leaned in the direction of the program before. After hearing what they have to say with regard to our future plans, I must say that I lean even more in that direction.

I realize that within those of the program, between scientists and engi­neers and others, there are different attitudes as to what the emphasis should be, whether we should emphasize more far exploration or more in taking the knowledge we have already acquired in making practical applications of it.

All of these matters have been brought to my attention. I can assure you that every side is getting a hearing. We want to have a balanced program, but, most important, we are going forward. America, the United States, is first in space. We are proud to be first in space. We don’t say that in any jingoistic way.

We say it because, as Americans, we want to give the people of this country, in particular our young people, the feeling that here is an area that we can concentrate on a positive goal.21

That the president was so aware of the arguments about the future direc­tion of the NASA program may have come as a surprise to Paine; the NASA chief must have been heartened by Nixon’s words. But those words turned out to be much more rhetoric designed to reassure the NASA workforce than a reflection of Nixon’s actual attitude toward future space efforts. That attitude was soon to be reflected in Nixon’s budget decisions.

A Shuttle-Launched Space Station?

In the first half of 1970, an alternative approach to developing a space sta­tion emerged. The Aerospace Corporation, the national-security-oriented engineering and systems analysis organization that had done most of the work on a joint Department of Defense-NASA study of the space shuttle submitted to the STG in June 1969, had continued to examine possible uses of the space shuttle. One of those options was using the shuttle to launch a number of smaller modules that could be assembled in orbit to create a space station with capabilities similar to the Saturn V-launched version. Some in NASA found this approach intriguing, and by April were suggesting that NASA’s space station study contractors begin to examine “Shuttle-sized modules” as the basis for a station. By mid-May, NASA at the engineering level had made its decision; a directive to the study contractors said that “additional work on the 33-ft. diameter space station will be deferred” and that further study effort would focus on “modular station concepts 15-ft. in diameter.” (That diameter was based on the width of the payload bay of the shuttle design NASA was studying.) After some additional in-house study, this decision was formally announced on July 29, 1970; that was the day that the Congress passed the NASA appropriations bill, which included no funds for the Saturn V. (There had been some faint hope that the Congress would reverse the Nixon administration decision to suspend production.) Henceforth, NASA’s industry partners would study only a shuttle-launched station.3

Who Would Replace Paine?

As he accepted Paine’s resignation on July 28, President Nixon asked him to suggest potential successors. Paine replied quickly, telling Nixon that “it would be best to seek a replacement from outside” of NASA; this ruled out George Low and Wernher von Braun as candidates. Paine provided a list “of seven principal candidates of national stature.” They were: James Fisk, president, Bell Telephone Laboratories; Thomas Jones, chairman, Northrop Corporation; Ruben Mettler, president, TRW Systems; Howard Johnson, president, MIT; Charles Townes, University of California, Berkeley; Frank Borman, who was in the process of leaving NASA; and George H. W. Bush, then a member of the House of Representatives and a candidate for the Senate from Texas (and a future president). Paine’s personal recommenda­tion was to select Borman, who was “the right age and temperament,” would “add technical experience and charisma to your administration,” could “deal effectively with the Congress,” would “be received with enthusiasm by NASA and the press,” and “can do an outstanding job maintaining the momentum in securing increased cooperation in space.”22

Flanigan added several other names to Paine’s list. One was Roger Lewis, chief executive officer of General Dynamics. He asked several people, including science adviser DuBridge, General Bernard Schriever, and Donald Kendall of Pepsi Cola, a Nixon confidant, to evaluate the various candi­dates. Flanigan tried to persuade Paine to remain in his job until a successor could be confirmed, but Paine said that this was not possible, and that in his judgment George Low was “entirely competent to manage the Agency for two months.” Flanigan reported to the president that, after first being interested in the NASA position, Borman had “indicated a change of heart, saying that he had no great interest in the job.” Even so, Flanigan was sure that “Borman would take the job if he knew you [Nixon] wanted him to have it.” Flanigan added that “much as I would like to see the position held for George Bush should he not win in Texas, I have serious reservations about leaving it unfilled for two months,” since this might be interpreted as indicating that “NASA and the Space Program were not important to the Administration. Given the current condition of the space industry, this would be an unfortunate inference.” Donald Kendall and Nixon assistant Leonard Garment knew Roger Lewis and indicated that “he appears to be an exceedingly able individual and would make an excellent spokesman for NASA and the Administration.” Based on this assessment, Flanigan recom­mended offering the NASA job to Lewis.23

It is not clear from the available record whether that recommendation was accepted and Roger Lewis rejected the offer, or whether action was deferred.

At any rate, Lewis was not nominated, and a month later, Flanigan was still seeking ideas for people to become NASA administrator.24 Paine left NASA on September 15, 1970; the next day, George Low became NASA’s act­ing administrator. Rather than being only a short-term replacement, Low would serve in that role for the next eight months. It fell to him to take the next steps in defining the program that NASA would pursue in the 1970s, particularly in terms of the negotiations with respect to NASA’s FY1972 budget. In taking on that responsibility, Low would be dealing with a mix of new and continuing members of the Nixon White House. His style was very different than that of Tom Paine, but he had little more success than Paine in getting the kind of commitment to a major future program that NASA so badly wanted.

"Giant Step": the Apollo 11 World Tour

Although both NASA and the White House certainly expected that at some point after their mission the Apollo 11 crew would embark on an interna­tional tour, there were no concrete plans for such a junket in place at the time of the Apollo 11 gala dinner. One characteristic of the Nixon White House evident early on was the intent to exercise close control over executive agency activities of direct interest to the president; there was little trust in the career bureaucracy. By early August, the White House was becoming increasingly impatient to hear from NASA regarding plans for the Apollo 11 tour. On August 6, three days after the president returned from his round-the-world trip, Nixon’s assistant Peter Flanigan wrote to NASA’s Julian Scheer, saying “No doubt you will be arranging for international trips for the Apollo 11 astronauts.” Flanigan requested that “before any specific schedule has been agreed upon, we would appreciate an opportunity to have the chief scheduler sit down here at the White House with the appropriate members of the White House, the National Security Council and the State Department [so] that we can coordinate the proposed schedule.” Five days later, Flanigan again wrote Scheer, this time saying “the President has again asked that he person­ally have an opportunity to review the Apollo 11 astronauts’ foreign travels. He has some strong opinions on this matter and wants to make sure he can express those opinions before any commitments are made.” Flanigan added “he is also anxious that there be some movement along this line, so I would appreciate hearing NASA’s thoughts with regard to the schedule in the near future.” On August 14, Nixon told Haldeman that the White House should control the tour schedule, with “no countries included w/o WH [without White House] approval.” As a result, Flanigan on August 15 wrote NASA administrator Paine, saying “the President is most anxious that the Apollo 11 astronauts commence their world-wide trip as soon as possible.”42

On August 15, the same day that Flanigan wrote Paine, Scheer finally replied, sending Flanigan a plan for the crew in the United States, to include an appearance before a joint session of Congress, as well as suggested “opera­tional guidelines for the overseas tour” and a proposed itinerary. Scheer noted that the plan was put together “with the guidance of U. Alexis Johnson of the Department of State.” Johnson was a veteran diplomat, then undersecretary of state for political affairs, who had long involvement in space policy mat­ters and was at the time part of the White House review of post-Apollo space plans. With respect to the proposed itinerary, Scheer noted that “it was more than advisable: 51 days, 28 countries and 30 cities. We would like to reduce this by 10 days.” With respect to the trip’s guidelines, Scheer suggested that “the Apollo 11 astronauts represent the President on a Presidential ‘Spirit of Apollo’ world trip.” He noted that “a Presidential aircraft, such as Air Force 2/3, is important for image purposes overseas.” Scheer proposed that

NASA supply both the “Chief of Mission” and the “Mission Director,” with a supporting staff of 11 additional NASA people; there would be four people from the U. S. Information Agency and only one from the Department of State in the traveling party.43

Little in what NASA was proposing was acceptable to the White House, which wanted a “highly political and carefully choreographed” tour designed to “reward friends, snub foes” and to produce “a flood of positive foreign headlines.” Nixon, reflecting his August 14 decision to take over from NASA the responsibility for planning the astronaut trip, told Kissinger “if you leave things in their [government bureaucrats] hands like this, they come out with an utter disaster.” Flanigan told Scheer on August 23 that “the President was dismayed at the proposed foreign schedule for the astronauts,” believing that “it went to too many countries, many of which were unimportant, while leaving out others of considerably greater importance.” Flanigan announced to NASA in no uncertain terms that “the President has given the White House staff the responsibility for reconstructing this schedule” and that “as soon it is completed it will be sent to you.” To make sure his point was clear, Flanigan added “Please be sure that all interested parties know that this is now a White House responsibility.”44

On August 26, completing the White House takeover of the trip plan­ning, Flanigan informed Administrator Paine that the astronauts would indeed “tour the world as his [the President’s] representatives.” Rather than NASA managing the tour, Nicholas Ruwe, a senior Department of State protocol officer, was designated “Chief of Mission” and would be “respon­sible to the President for its successful completion.” Both NASA and the State Department would provide staff, but only “as requested by the White House.”45

NASA was not at all pleased by the White House intervention in the tour arrangements; tension between Scheer, particularly, and the White House ran high. Ruwe on September 23, a week before the tour was to commence, reported to Kissinger “NASA and I are at complete loggerheads with regard to the execution of the Apollo 11 trip.” Dissatisfaction with tour planning extended to Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins themselves. On September 17, the day after they had addressed a joint session of Congress, the three were briefed at the State Department with respect to tour preparations. The astro­nauts had set as their objectives for the trip “to demonstrate goodwill to all people in the world and to stress that what we had done was for all man­kind.” According to Aldrin, they were not impressed when they perceived from their briefing that an important objective of the tour was “to visit the American embassies anxious to score social coups.” The crew’s response was “we would take care of Americans in America.”46

The Apollo H tour was code-named “Giant Step.” It departed on September 29, with the first stop being Mexico City. The day before, Nixon, reflecting his personal concern that the tour serve his broader purposes, called Armstrong to give him some final thoughts. Using talking points prepared by Borman, Nixon urged Armstrong to convey to the leaders in each of the countries visited that the Apollo 11 flight and the astronauts’ tour represented “the interest of the United States in maintaining space explora­tion as a project of peaceful benefits for all nations of the world.” He sug­gested that Armstrong might repeat what the president had said during his post-mission trip—that “the success of the Apollo XI mission belongs to all the people of the earth and not just the people of the United States.”47

The crew visited 27 cities in 24 countries over 39 days. They returned to Washington on November 5. Neil and Jan Armstrong and Mike and Pat Collins enjoyed most of the exhausting trip; Collins remembers that “despite the fatigue and the repetitive nature of the ceremonies,” the tour “was the rarest of opportunities, to cram in slightly over a month’s time visits with the Queen of England, Marshal Tito, the Pope, the Emperor of Japan, the Shan of Iran, Generalissimo Franco, Badouin King of the Belgians, King Olaf of Norway, Queen Wilhemina of the Netherlands, the King and Queen of Thailand, and dozens of Presidents, Prime Ministers, ambassadors, and lesser lights.” In contrast, Buzz Aldrin found the trip extremely stressful, and became increasingly depressed as the tour continued; he and his wife were at times not on speaking terms.48

When the crew arrived back in Washington, they went by helicopter directly to the South Lawn of the White House. There they were welcomed by President Nixon, speaking “for all of the American people in expressing the heartfelt thanks of this Nation to the Armstrongs, the Aldrins, and the Collinses for what I think is the most successful goodwill trip in the history of the United States of America. . . Certainly the first men ever to land on the moon have demonstrated that they are the best possible ambassadors America could have on this earth.” That evening, President and Mrs. Nixon hosted a White House dinner; the only other people present were the crew members and their wives. Aldrin remembers a “friendly, warm evening.” The president told the crew that he had used his stop in Romania in his around-the-world tour to send a secret message to China’s leaders that he was open to normal­izing U. S.-Chinese relations and said that opportunity had “paid for every­thing we spent on the space program.” He asked each crew member what they wanted to do next. While Armstrong and Aldrin were non-committal, Collins expressed interest in continuing work in public diplomacy. In a con­versation with NASA Administrator Paine even before leaving on the “Giant Step” tour, Collins had learned that Secretary of State Rogers had expressed interest in Collins becoming the assistant secretary of state for public affairs. Collins told Nixon of his interest in that position. The president immedi­ately called Rogers, telling him that Collins would be an excellent fit for the job. After dinner, Pat Nixon led a tour through the White House and the Executive Office Building next door. When the crew had interacted with the First Lady at the August 13 banquet, they had found her distant and stiff. Now, she was “charming,” a “delightful, warm hostess who really tried to make us feel at home”; the tour was carried off “with unexpected enthusi­asm and a beautiful informality.” The three astronauts and their wives then spent the night at the White House. A few weeks later, “Giant Step” would be resumed for a two-day trip to Canada, but the White House evening pro­vided a satisfying conclusion to the mission of Apollo 11 and its immediate aftermath. According to Collins, Mrs. Nixon’s hospitality “made our stay at the White House the real highlight of our around the world trip.”49

Why Spiro Agnew?

Richard Nixon’s vice president, Spiro T. Agnew, was not an obvious choice to chair a review of the U. S. space program. Agnew had been elected governor of Maryland in 1966; before then he was a local Maryland politician. He had no prior exposure to space issues, or indeed to most national issues. Agnew had first supported Nelson Rockefeller as the Republican nominee for presi­dent in early 1968. But Rockefeller, much to Agnew’s surprise, in March 1968 had announced he would not enter presidential primaries or otherwise campaign for the Republican nomination. (He later reversed this position and competed with Nixon to be the Republican nominee.) Richard Nixon met with Agnew for the first time two weeks later; Nixon was “impressed with his intelligence and poise.” Nixon’s campaign asked Agnew to be one of Nixon’s nominators at the Republican convention; this put him among the leading candidates to be Nixon’s choice for the vice presidential nomination. After two of Nixon’s closest advisers turned down the vice presidential possi­bility, Nixon informed Agnew that he was his choice as vice-presidential can­didate. Nixon noted in his Memoirs that Agnew at his first press conference admitted that his name was not exactly “a household word,” and assured the press “that he would work to change that situation.” In ways likely not intended, Agnew succeeded in that objective.39

There was a straightforward reason for involving Vice President Agnew in space affairs. The vice president by law was the chairman of the National Aeronautics and Space Council, the White House organization set up by the 1958 Space Act to provide presidential-level coordination of space policy. At its origin, the president chaired the Space Council, which included as members the administrator of NASA, the secretary of defense, the secretary of state, and the chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission. When John

F. Kennedy became president in 1961, he asked the Congress to change the law to make the vice president the council chair. Kennedy recognized that Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson had been deeply involved in space matters in the Senate, and he wanted to give Johnson some specific respon­sibilities during the Kennedy administration. Johnson in his role as Space Council chair had played an important part in developing the recommenda­tions that led Kennedy to set a lunar landing within the decade as a national goal, but in the remaining 30 months of the Kennedy administration he had limited influence on space choices. Johnson did accumulate a sizeable staff for the Space Council. Once Johnson became president and chose Hubert Humphrey as vice president and thus council chair, the Space Council dur­ing the rest of the Johnson administration had become almost dormant, even while it retained its large staff.

The Nixon transition task force on space had discussed what to do with the Space Council. It observed that “the Space Council has not been very effective” and observed that President Nixon could ask Congress to abol­ish it. But, “as long as the Council exists. . . it should be made effective. For that purpose, there should be a strong staff and the President should be Chairman.” As he considered how best to organize the post-Apollo space review, science adviser DuBridge also considered what to do with the coun­cil. One option, suggested Russell Drew, the space specialist on DuBridge’s staff, was to “strengthen the Space Council,” with a “vigorous and knowl­edgeable person as Executive Secretary.” The Executive Secretary was the presidentially appointed, Senate-confirmed top staff person for the Space Council and ran the day-by-day operations of its staff. If the president were to replace the vice president as chair of the Space Council, then the council staff could logically become part of the presidential science adviser’s office and the executive secretary could report to the president through DuBridge. (It is likely that OST staffer Russell Drew aspired to the position.) The other alternative was to abolish the Space Council, but this would be likely to run into vice presidential opposition, since it would mean that he would lose a large number of dedicated staff positions.40

There was no serious consideration at the start of the Nixon administra­tion given to making the president the Space Council chair. However, over the course of 1969, there were attempts to revitalize the Space Council. One step in that direction was the May 1969 selection of 34-year-old Apollo 8 astronaut Bill Anders as the Space Council’s new executive secretary. NASA Administrator Paine was instrumental in Anders’s selection, seeing an opportunity to place someone positively disposed toward human space flight in a senior White House position, counterbalancing the skepticism of OST and OMB. Anders could not take on the job immediately, since he was part of the Apollo H backup crew; this meant that the council staff would not become engaged in the work of the STG. Anders had become convinced that he was unlikely to get a role on a later Apollo flight that would give him the opportunity to walk on the Moon, and so was ready to take on a new and very different challenge with the Space Council position. He was told

Why Spiro Agnew?

Vice President Spiro T. Agnew introduces his choice as executive secretary of the National Aeronautics and Space Council, Apollo 8 astronaut Bill Anders. Anders is accompanied by his wife Valerie. (National Archives photo WHPO-1044-8)

by Agnew and Paine that once he came to Washington he would have the opportunity to reinvigorate the Space Council and its staff so that they could play a more influential role in space policy development.41

But that was in the future; by coming into the vice presidency with the Space Council as one of his assigned responsibilities, Spiro Agnew in February 1969 became the titular leader of the effort to define the U. S. future in space. Few could have predicted at the time that he would become perhaps the program’s leading cheerleader within the Nixon administration.

Defining the STG Options

At the conclusion of the August 4 meeting, NASA was given the assignment of defining the programmatic content of these three options. This was the role that the agency had sought from the very beginning of the STG pro­cess, when Tom Paine had argued vigorously against the proposal that space program options should be defined by DuBridge and his external advisory panel. NASA took full advantage of this assignment, and by mid-August submitted to the Staff Directors Committee three options, each of which included the same hardware elements, derived from Mueller’s integrated plan, and each of which included human missions to Mars; the difference among the plans was in their schedules and annual budget requirements, not in their content. Each included simultaneous development of the two new systems that were NASA’s top priority objectives for the next few years—a large space station and a space shuttle. Although at the August 4 meeting the STG principals had suggested that NASA prepare a $4 billion/year “aus­tere” option that included a continuing human space flight effort, NASA argued that such an option was not feasible, and thus refused to provide it. The NASA options were:

• Program A, described as “maximum progress technically feasible,” and “comparable to the 1961 decision to go to the moon.” This was essentially the program that had been presented to the STG on August 4;

• Program B, described as “maximum returns from an economical pro­gram”; and

• Program C, described as “minimum consistent with continuing techno­logical advance.”39

It was clear from the way that NASA presented its options that Program B was its preferred choice; if adopted that option would commit the Nixon administration during its second term to NASA budgets greater than those at the peak of the Apollo effort.

"Final" Budget Decisions Are Not Final

In the meeting with Mayo, Ehrlichman, and Flanigan on December 5, President Nixon decided to give tentative approval to the BOB recommen­dation of a NASA budget for FY1971 of $3.7 billion, but also decided to suspend production of additional Saturn V boosters. It is likely that Flanigan had significant influence on the president’s views. By the time of the budget meeting, he had become much more cautious with respect to NASA’s future plans than had been the case in the immediate aftermath of the STG report.

He also had become attuned to the reality that there was limited public support for ambitious post-Apollo space activities. On December 6, he sent a memorandum to the president reporting that “the October 6 issue of Newsweek took a poll of 1,321 Americans with household incomes ranging from $5,000 to $15,000 a year. This represents 61% of the white population of the United States and is obviously the heart of your constituency.” Of this group, Flanigan reported, “56% think the government should be spending less money on space exploration, and only 10% think the government should be spending more money.”22

Nixon’s budget decisions were communicated to Paine by Flanigan, not Mayo as would normally have been the case. Flanigan told Paine that “the President says that he doesn’t have enough money within the next couple of years and must accept limitation of activity,” that “the President will agree that at some time we will go to Mars,” that Nixon “did not see the need to go to the moon six more times,” and that “the President was alarmed [in the sense of being concerned about their future costs] about the space station and shuttle.”23 Nixon’s skepticism regarding the value of additional lunar landing missions was to be a recurrent theme during the next two years.

In a December 17 letter to Nixon appealing the tentative budget deci­sions, Paine once again gave priority to getting started on the station and the shuttle, saying “if, because of today’s severe fiscal constraints we must sacrifice some current operations. . . so be it. The important thing is to press forward now with our new program.” Closing his five-page letter, Paine told the president “I believe I would be remiss and do you and your Administration a disservice if I did not place before you as you reach these important decisions on America’s future in space the relevant facts, conse­quences, and potentialities.” He requested a meeting with Nixon to discuss his appeal.24

An indication of the context in which President Nixon would evaluate that appeal came soon after the December 5 Nixon-Mayo meeting. One influence was Flanigan’s December 6 memorandum reporting on the nega­tive public attitude toward increases in space spending. In addition, an entry in the president’s carefully read daily news summary discussed the Hunger Conference taking place in Washington that week. It noted that “constant references were made to space” as an example of spending that “could have been far better spent on hunger.” After reading this report, Nixon asked his advisers Ehrlichman and Daniel Patrick Moynihan “whether you agree that some of our money would be better spent on hunger.”25

Another signal that NASA was not going to succeed in its budget appeal came as the Apollo 12 crew visited President Nixon in the White House on Saturday, December 20. The crew and their wives (except for Alan Bean’s wife, who was ill) had dinner with President and Mrs. Nixon in the White House family quarters, then watched the movie Marooned, a story about three astronauts stranded in orbit. This was a rather odd choice for the occa­sion, given that all three of the Apollo 12 crew hoped to fly in space again, but the movie had just been released to critical acclaim. Like the Apollo 11 crew, the astronaut families stayed overnight at the White House and joined the Nixons the next morning for coffee, then attended a White House worship service. The Apollo 11 visit to the White House the previous month had been a warm and relaxed affair, but Pete Conrad sensed the president’s “apparent lack of interest in the space program.” Conrad was “disappointed and disil­lusioned” after his White House visit. He suggested that “the President paid very little attention to any discussions on space and exhibited no technical interest. He also appeared to have very little knowledge of what had gone on in space and what was going on in the future.” Conrad on several occasions “tried to bring up the future of space, the space station, the space shuttle, Mars missions, and was very quickly turned around and the subjects went back to small talk.”26

Tom Paine had a 20-minute meeting with President Nixon on the after­noon of December 23 to make his case for a higher NASA budget. In advance of that meeting, Flanigan made his recommendations to the president on dealing with NASA. He suggested that Saturn V production should be sus­pended, that study funds for the space station and shuttle should be reduced, that the frequency of Apollo launches to the Moon should be reduced to “an average of 1ЛА per year. . . thereby extending the period of manned space flight beyond the presently planned date of 1974,” that university research funds should be eliminated “as requested by the President,” and that the newly opened NASA Electronics Research Center be closed. Paine in his December 17 appeal letter had once again claimed that the steps NASA would have to take to accommodate a NASA budget of $3.7 billion would mean that “U. S. manned flight activity would end in 1972 with an uncer­tain date for resumption many years in the future.” Flanigan called this claim “unacceptable,” since it would place the “onus” for terminating the current human space flight “on the President,” while NASA would “create commit­ments for very expensive programs that will require excessive outlays in the next few years.” Flanigan was quite aware of NASA’s “crying wolf” strategy in the budget negotiations, and by this point had become extremely skeptical of its validity.27

Notes taken by Ehrlichman at the December 23 meeting dealt with only two issues—whether to continue production of the Saturn V and, if the deci­sion on that issue was to suspend production, whether to “close Kennedy [Space Center] in ’72.” Nixon did not respond to Paine’s arguments at their meeting; rather, the president made what he thought was his final decision on the NASA budget on December 26, approving a $3.735 billion NASA budget that confirmed the suspension of Saturn V production and the clo­sure of the Electronics Research Center. NASA was told that it should launch Apollo missions no more than twice a year in order to extend the time the Saturn V would be in service. Only a low level of study funds for the space station and shuttle was approved. The budget decisions were accompanied by the message that “the President was quite favorably inclined to the NASA program but that he just did not have the money to spend on it.”28

Space Station Exits the Stage

However, the shuttle-based approach to keeping space station development alive as an immediate post-Apollo prospect had a short lifetime. The NASA leadership in mid-July 1970 met to formulate the agency’s program for the next five to ten years. They took into account the president’s March space statement, the funding the agency would request in its FY1972 budget submission, due on September 30, and an estimate of the budget it could expect in the subsequent few years. A key result of these discussions was a decision to return the space station to preliminary study status rather than seek FY1972 approval to begin its detailed design and development. This decision effectively postponed the station for a number of years. Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight Dale Myers, who had joined NASA in January 1970 as George Mueller’s successor, told Low that he was “mov­ing out to the shuttle first because. . . an interim space station, without a proper logistics system, would be dead-ended.” Low agreed, recognizing that “a space station without a shuttle makes no sense at all. . . a shuttle with­out a space station does.”4

This was a momentous choice. It meant that NASA would abandon its plan for simultaneous development of the station and shuttle that had been at the heart of its post-Apollo aspirations; rather, NASA would first seek approval to develop the space shuttle, postponing station development until after the shuttle began flying later in the 1970s. It also meant that the shut­tle would have to be sold as a general-purpose, lower-cost launch system and as the way of keeping astronauts flying in space, not as a logistics vehicle for a space station, its original rationale.

Even with the decision to give shuttle schedule priority vis-a-vis the station, the link between the space shuttle and an eventual space station remained unbreakable; in NASA’s view, one of the highest priority require­ments driving space shuttle design would be its ability to launch modules large enough to be assembled into a viable space station. NASA told the White House as it submitted its budget request in September 1970 that “we have made a major decision to defer development of a space station. . . to a later time and to orient the space station studies we will continue in FY1972 toward modular systems that can be launched as well as serviced by the space shuttle.”5 The space station for the time being might be postponed, but it would not be forgotten.

The Space Shuttle Takes Center Stage

Based on the decisions made during the previous months, the human space flight program that NASA presented to the White House in September 1970 looked very different from the one put forward a year earlier. NASA hoped that this revised program, focused on beginning to develop the space shut­tle, would be seen as sufficiently responsive to White House budgetary and program priorities to gain Richard Nixon’s approval.

By shutting down the Saturn V and Apollo spacecraft production lines and by returning the space station to preliminary study status, NASA was in effect giving the Nixon administration only one alternative if there was to be a continuing U. S. human space flight program after the mid-1970s—to approve development of the NASA-designed space shuttle. This was a situ­ation unacceptable to the new space actors in the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) and the Office of Science and Technology (OST); they would push NASA over the remainder of 1970 and particularly during 1971 to come up with alternative human space flight proposals or, at a minimum, alternatives to NASA’s preferred shuttle design. These two organizations operated under the premise that President Nixon did not want to termi­nate U. S. human space flights, and thus pushed to find a way of continuing such flights that both made technical sense and also could be carried out in the context of a modest NASA budget, while also maintaining a balance between the human space flight effort and robotic science and application activities. Tensions between OMB and OST on one hand and NASA on the other would be the axis of space policy debates in coming months.

With White House failure to find a successor to Tom Paine, there was a de facto realization that George Low would serve as NASA’s acting administrator as the NASA budget was being decided during the fall of 1970. Compared to Paine’s call for NASA to be a “swashbuckling” organization, Low’s thoughts as he became the agency’s top official were much more somber.

In the 1960’s, the country was looking outward, and the national priorities included the Apollo goal, because this would establish clearly in our minds and in the minds of the world technological leadership by the United States. . . The

situation in the beginning of the 1970’s is very different. We are now an intro­spective nation. We will do only those things that help ourselves and help

ourselves at an early date.1

This rather dour perspective would color Low’s actions as he sought a per­suasive rationale to convince the White House to approve NASA’s reduced post-Apollo ambitions.

Low’s first responsibility as acting administrator was finalizing NASA’s budget request for Fiscal Year (FY) 1972, due at OMB on September 30. The prospects for getting OMB approval to begin shuttle development in FY 1972, which would begin on July 1, 1971, were very much on Low’s mind as the NASA budget request was prepared: “If we do not get a firm go-ahead for the shuttle this year, we will not have a viable space program in the middle 1970’s. . . The question, then, is ‘how do we approach OMB and the White House to get them to give us $500-$600 million more than they would like to approve?’”2

It would turn out that there was no positive answer to this question. Even though the process by which decisions were made on NASA’s FY1972 budget was much more orderly than the chaotic approach of a year earlier, NASA did not get the definitive commitment to the shuttle it was seeking, In addition, there was some last-minute drama. There was serious thought given to canceling Skylab, NASA’s experimental space station. A new con­sideration—the possibility that aerospace unemployment in areas that could affect President Nixon’s reelection prospects in 1972—became part of the discussion about NASA’s future, and was a major factor in the ultimate decision to proceed with Skylab. In addition, Nixon, shaken by the Apollo 13 accident, personally tried to cancel the final lunar mission, Apollo 17, as excessively risky, but was persuaded not to follow through on that action. By the time final budget decisions were made in early January 1971, NASA’s post-Apollo future remained uncertain, although there were some positive signs that a space shuttle would eventually gain White House endorsement.

Now What?

The excitement of Apollo 11 had barely begun to diminish when on September 15 President Nixon received the report of the “Space Task Group” he had created in February 1969 to recommend the course of the post-Apollo space program. That report laid out an ambitious plan, culminating in human trips to Mars sometime in the next 15 years. The president was soon to decide that the nation neither wanted nor could afford that kind of ambition in space. But this “deceleration” of the U. S. space program was still in the future as Richard Nixon and his associates made sure that the president was closely identified with the success of Apollo 11, even though he had only the good fortune to be the occupant of the White House when the lunar land­ing occurred. One way of emphasizing the linkage between the president and the mission’s success was a purposeful ignoring in Nixon’s statements related to Apollo 11 of the role of the two presidents actually responsible for Apollo—Lyndon B. Johnson, who had provided steady support for the proj­ect during his five years in the White House, and especially John F. Kennedy, who had the original vision of using a mission to the Moon as an instrument of U. S. grand strategy and then had backed up that vision with a massive commitment of human and financial resources. Richard Nixon was able to harvest the fruits of Kennedy’s and Johnson’s nurturing of Apollo without any additional commitment of tangible resources on his part. His major, and not insignificant, contribution was linking the prestige of the office of the president of the United States to the Apollo achievement. He did so skillfully, personally orchestrating his engagement with the lunar landing and its aftermath. Nixon took some significant risks along the way. If there had been a mission failure at some point or if the Apollo 11 crew members had not been so successful in their unaccustomed role as global diplomats, the “spirit of Apollo” that President Nixon so effectively used to signal U. S. determination to maintain global leadership might not have been so potent a symbol. But NASA delivered extraordinary results in carrying out the first landing on another celestial body, and Richard Nixon was able to leverage that success to a major strategic triumph for the United States.