Category After Apollo?

On December 29, Flanigan had asked NASA to suggest a new name for the program. Fletcher replied on December 30, telling Flanigan that the names he was proposing were “drawn from a much longer list previously generated by our Public Affairs department and by the people working on the shuttle itself, with the addition of several contributed by George Low and me.” That longer list included suggestions such as: Mayflower, Starship, Spaceliner, Star Frigate, Caravel, Star Packet, Star Freighter, Rocket Clipper, Star Ferry, Space Tram, Star Schooner, and Space Schooner, all of which were rejected. Fletcher’s preferred names were Skyclipper, Skyship, Pegasus, and Hermes. He gave second priority to Space Clipper, Astroplane, Skylark, and Dragonfly.20

In a January 4 memorandum to the president, Flanigan told Nixon that the name “space shuttle” does “not have the lift or importance that the project deserves. The word ‘shuttle’ has a connotation of second class travel and lacks excitement.” Flanigan added “assuming that you wish to choose a name other than ‘space shuttle,’” the suggested names were

1. Space Clipper—Generally agreed upon by NASA, Shultz, Safire, Moore, Davis and me, this name would describe the overall project. Individual vehicles might have individual names, the first being Yankee Clipper;

2. Pegasus—Preferred by the classicists, such as Jim Fletcher;

3. Starlighter—Dick Moore’s favorite.

Commenting on the choice of names, speechwriter Bill Safire had sug­gested Space Clipper, The Yankee Clipper, Rocket Ship #1, and Space Ship #1. Safire was attracted to The Yankee Clipper name “because of its historic and patriotic association,” which had been used to describe “a fleet of ships designed for speed and passengers rather than cargo and helped make the American merchant fleet preeminent in the early 19th century.” (Safire’s his­tory of clipper ships was not quite accurate.) He added that “the name would be criticized as nationalistic, but I think that heat would be good.” Safire advised against the name Pegasus “because it would soon be named Peggy and parodied with the old song title ‘Peg of My Heart.’”21

Another of the influences on the choice of the full capability shuttle was President Nixon’s interest in its ability to launch the most advanced intelli­gence satellites and to carry out innovative national security missions. Those missions included the shuttle launching on demand during a political or military crisis, conducting a single-orbit satellite deployment or rendezvous, or inspecting or even destroying a potentially hostile satellite.

While the president himself may have been attracted by such national security uses, the reality was that support for the shuttle within the military and intelligence community was at best tepid, both at the time the shut­tle decision was made and afterwards. Deputy Secretary of Defense David Packard’s 1971 flexibility on shuttle requirements is suggestive of an ambiva­lent Department of Defense attitude toward the vehicle, and the effort in late 1971 to get a joint NASA-DOD statement to the president in support of the shuttle apparently did not bear fruit. During 1972 Congressional hearings on the shuttle program, DOD and Air Force testimony was supportive but guarded in character; the military took the position that the DOD would commit to depending on the shuttle only after its capabilities and constant availability had been fully demonstrated. During the mid-1970s top-level Department of Defense support for the shuttle ebbed and flowed. At lower levels of the national security community, there was strong opposition to phasing out expendable launch vehicles until the shuttle was demonstrated to be completely reliable. The DOD did agree to pay the costs of a west coast launch site for the shuttle at Vandenberg Air Force Base, since that location was primarily needed for national security launches into polar orbit. In addi­tion, DOD agreed to be responsible for funding the “space tug” to move pay­loads from the shuttle to higher orbits and for covering the costs of separate launch control centers in Houston and Colorado Springs for managing classi­fied shuttle missions. With the urging of Hans Mark, first as Undersecretary and then as Secretary of the Air Force from 1977 to 1981, and for much of that time also director of the National Reconnaissance Office (NRO), some national security satellites were redesigned to take advantage of the shuttle’s attributes. When in 1979 President Jimmy Carter considered canceling the shuttle program because of its cost overruns, it was the national security uses of the shuttle, particularly in terms of launching the photo-reconnaissance satellites needed to verify arms control agreements, that convinced the presi­dent to continue the program. Once the Reagan administration took office in 1981, an early action was to confirm as national policy that the shuttle would be “the primary space launch system for both United States military and civilian government missions.”21

This policy declaration represented the high point of the notion of using the shuttle for national security missions. Within the first years of the Reagan administration, Air Force and NRO resistance to total dependence on the shuttle escalated into a conflict that required a presidential decision to resolve. The consequences of total U. S. dependence on the shuttle had been predicted. In the midst of the shuttle debate in 1971, the OMB had warned “for national security purposes, we may not want all our eggs in one basket.” The Air Force and NRO in 1984 won the right to develop an expendable launch vehicle as a backup to the shuttle for the largest national security payloads; this turned out to be the Titan IV booster. In the aftermath of the January 1986 Challenger accident, most national security payloads were removed from the shuttle and expendable launch vehicle production lines were activated; the nearly complete multibillion dollar West Coast launch site for the shuttle was mothballed.

Only ten dedicated national security missions, eight of which were classi­fied, were launched aboard the space shuttle, including eight missions after the 1986 Challenger accident; the payloads for most of those missions had been uniquely designed for shuttle launch. Some of the capabilities relevant to national security uses, such as satellite repair, recovery, and refueling, were demonstrated on other early shuttle missions. But as a national security system, the shuttle had no continuing utility. One historian of national secu­rity space activities cites a Department of Defense 1992 report that set the cost of redesigning military and reconnaissance spacecraft first to launch on the shuttle and then reconfiguring them again to launch on the expen­sive Titan IV expendable launch vehicles after the Challenger accident as “in excess of $20 billion.”22 None of the ten national security shuttle mis­sions required the cross-range capability that had been an original DOD demand, and none of the innovative missions described in the 1969 DOD/ NASA space shuttle report that had influenced Richard Nixon’s support of the NASA shuttle were ever attempted. Rather than provide new capabili­ties used by the national security community, the shuttle turned out to be a multibillion dollar drain on the national security space budget.

Beginning on February 16, 1971, most White House conversations involving President Richard Nixon were recorded. Nixon through his chief of staff Bob Haldeman ordered the Secret Service to set up a tap­ing system. Seven microphones were installed in the Oval Office—five on the president’s desk and one on each side of the office fireplace. Two microphones were located in the Cabinet Room. In April 1971 Nixon’s hideaway office in the Old Executive Office Building next to the White House was also wired for recording. Telephones in the Oval Office, the hideaway office, and the Lincoln Sitting Room in the

White House family residence, where Nixon often spent his evenings working, were also tapped. Other than the Cabinet Room, where a switch had to be thrown to turn the tape recorders on and off, the recording systems were sound activated and linked to a locator device worn by the president, and thus only operated when the president was in the room. Only the president, Haldeman, a few of Nixon’s close personal assistants (but not Ehrlichman, Kissinger, and Shultz of his inner circle), and the Secret Service knew about the recording system.

Nixon had been advised by former president Lyndon Johnson to reinstall a recording system; Johnson had used one during much of his presidency. There were two main reasons for having a taped record of presidential conversations. One was protecting against others misrep­resenting what was said in meetings with the president; the other was as a source for the eventual memoir that Nixon, like all former presi­dents, would write after leaving office.

The Nixon tape recordings are difficult to understand. The tapes used and the slow speed at which they were recorded were not appro­priate for voice recording. Various sounds, ranging from ringing tele­phones to the sound of coffee cups being set down, obscure parts of many conversations. Those conversations and meetings were often rambling, filled with incomplete sentences, and unstructured, making them difficult to follow. Participants interrupted each other and fin­ished each other’s sentences. (More information regarding the Nixon tapes can be found at www. millercenter. org/presidentialtapes.)5

The author, assisted by George Washington University student Luis Suter, made a “best effort” attempt to transcribe conversations relevant to the space program on the Nixon tapes. Any errors of transcription are the author’s responsibility.

In contrast to Frank Jameson, who in his White House interviews appar­ently argued for bold new initiatives in space, Fletcher was known from his years on PSAC to be somewhat skeptical of the value of human space flight. Fletcher was aware of the proposal to develop a space shuttle; as a member of the PSAC, he had been exposed to the thinking of the committee’s panel on space science and technology about the need for low-cost space trans­portation and was aware of the content of the Space Task Group report. During PSAC deliberations, Fletcher had asked “why is it necessary to have a manned system to get [a payload] to and from space?” Before Fletcher was nominated, several members of Congress supportive of human space flight sent a telegram to the White House opposing Fletcher’s selection as NASA head, saying he was “a negative person on [manned] space,” but their objec­tions did not prevail.6

After his nomination was announced, Fletcher was quickly invited to attend, two days later on March 1, a large White House dinner in honor of the Apollo 14 astronaut crew—Alan Shepard, Edgar Mitchell, and Stuart Roosa—whose mission had taken place from January 31 to February 9. NASA’s Willis Shapley remembered that as he went through the receiving line before the dinner, he noticed a person “sitting by himself with his little pad of pink papers.” Someone told Shapley that the person was Fletcher, his new boss. Shapley went to say hello, and later commented “that was Fletcher to a tee. He was always trying to find out who the key people were, keep his notes as to who was worthy of note. . . He was using his chance at this White House thing just to get a look at the people that were going to be significant to him in the future.”7

The next day, Fletcher and Low spent several hours together discussing the state of NASA. Low’s “first impression” was that Fletcher was “excel­lent” and “that he will be very good for NASA.” In several subsequent meet­ings during March and April, Low and Fletcher discussed the major issues facing NASA and plotted the approach they would take to managing the agency. They “spent considerable time discussing the space shuttle.” Fletcher indicated that he understood “that the space shuttle decisions this summer will be some of the most important decisions that he will make early in his career at NASA.” According to Low, Fletcher came into NASA “negative on manned space flight. He was selected. . . by the people close to Nixon for being the kind of person who would support an unmanned space pro­gram. . . He came in probably not to support” the space shuttle, but he “very quickly turned himself around.” Fletcher admitted that he “changed from the time I was on PSAC to the time I came to NASA,” recognizing that “neither the president nor I wanted to go ahead with a program that didn’t really have a manned element to it.” Before he decided to support the shuttle, Fletcher pushed hard on Low, Dale Myers, and Myers’s deputy Charles Donlan, who was overseeing shuttle studies, to convince himself that a shuttle, rather than some other human space flight system like a recoverable capsule, was the best option for NASA to advocate.8

Low early on also shared with Fletcher his growing concern that NASA should not take on the task of developing a two-stage fully reusable shuttle “without having clear-cut support for a space agency budget in excess of $4 billion.” The two discussed “the possibilities of other shuttle concepts and of phasing the orbiter and booster separately.” They also discussed whether there really was a need for more Apollo flights; they agreed both to examine this question after the Apollo 15 flight, scheduled for July. Given the sensi­tivity within NASA of possibly not going forward with the Apollo 16 and Apollo 17 missions, they agreed to not to raise the question with anyone else in NASA.9

The Senate confirmed Fletcher as NASA administrator on March 11, but Fletcher did not plan to arrive at NASA until around May 1. Flanigan recommended that President Nixon personally swear in Fletcher, noting that there had been a “long hiatus” since Tom Paine had left the agency

and that “interest in NASA and Congressional support has been declin­ing.” This suggestion was accepted, and Fletcher came to the Oval Office on April 27, 1971, to be sworn in as NASA’s fourth administrator as his family looked on.10

Fletcher reported for duty at NASA on May 3. He made his first speech as NASA administrator on May 20; his venue was the annual meeting of the Aerospace Industries Association. The speech was attended by senior people from all parts of the space industry, anxious to hear what the new head of NASA had in mind. Fletcher noted that it was “not the time for me to attempt to make definitive policy statements.” He observed that NASA was “in a period of uncertainty” since its major programs for the 1970s were “still in the study stage.” Fletcher claimed that he had “been backing the shuttle concept for a number of years” and that he was prepared “to advocate it vigorously.” He added “if we are going to put most of our eggs in the shut­tle basket, it had better be the best basket the American. . . aerospace indus­try can devise.” Fletcher said “we will take as much time as we need right now to be sure we make the right decisions” regarding which shuttle design to develop, on what schedule; he added “let’s not go off half-cocked on the shuttle.” In a statement that likely was troubling to the companies working on shuttle study contracts, Fletcher indicated that “we are not committed at this time to a two-stage fully reusable concept for the shuttle.” Rather, NASA would “continue to consider the various possibilities as cold-blooded engineers.” He argued that “we are not trying to justify the shuttle as a money-making project, but as a new capability of great promise.”11

Fletcher’s speech was a mixture of the preexisting NASA arguments for the shuttle and his own ideas. In particular, the emphasis on the shuttle as offering important new capabilities, not primarily as a means of reducing the cost of space activities, was his. He had not been previously involved in the shuttle program, and thus was free to indicate that he was not committed to the shuttle design that had been central to NASA’s thinking in preced­ing months. Within the first few weeks of his time at NASA, Fletcher had become convinced that the shuttle was NASA’s most important program for the 1970s. Now it would be up to Fletcher and Low to convince the White House that the space shuttle deserved presidential support.

Since the beginning of the Nixon administration in 1969, the National Aeronautics and Space Council at the principal’s level had met infrequently, and its staff had not become closely involved in policy decisions related to human space flight. There had been proposals to eliminate the council during 1970, and in mid-1971, its future remained very much in doubt, although by that point the council staff members had developed good working relation­ships with their peers in the White House and the Office of Management and Budget and had become involved in policy choices related to NASA’s robotic space science and application programs and aeronautics program and to other government aeronautics and space activities.

Although the council’s executive secretary, Bill Anders, had carved out a personal role as adviser on space issues to the Office of Management and Budget’s Deputy Director Cap Weinberger, he was somewhat frustrated by the marginal role being played by the Space Council and its staff in the decisions regarding future human space efforts. He shared his frustration with Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater; Goldwater relayed that concern to Richard Nixon during a June 17, 1971, Oval Office meeting:

Goldwater : “I hate to burden you with a problem, but this young Bill Anders, who I think is one of the smartest boys around, I spoke to him today and I think he’s thinking of quitting. . . He’s in charge of the Space Council.”

Nixon : “I’ve got to use him someplace else. He’s bright as a tack. . . Let’s put him in that new deal [the ‘new NASA’] where we’re trying to develop the new, the water and all that sort of thing, the NASA management approach and so forth. Anders has got to be held.”5

Anders told George Low in early August that he had “about decided that a staff function without an active council had reached its point of diminishing returns” and that “he might propose to the White House that the National Aeronautics and Space Council should be abolished.” (He would make such a proposal in late 1972.) By the end of August, Anders had also become “extremely pessimistic” regarding White House staff attitudes, especially within the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) and the Office of Science and Technology (OST), with respect to the human space flight pro­gram. Meeting with NASA Administrator Fletcher, he suggested that NASA “drop the shuttle completely and focus on evolving a space station out of Skylab.” Anders thought that “a vastly trimmed down manned space pro­gram, presented simultaneously with the closing of one of our centers, might make NASA more credible (and incidentally, more popular) with the ‘White House.’”6

As it became clear that the FY1973 budget process would be conten­tious, Tom Whitehead suggested that Vice President Agnew loan Anders to Peter Flanigan’s office to help Flanigan work with David, Don Rice, Al Haig (Henry Kissinger’s deputy at the National Security Council), and Whitehead “to square away coordination between the various elements of the Executive Office and the White House in the space area.” Whitehead thought that Anders’s help in “getting the various Executive Office agen­cies working along the same track” and “tiding us over a bit of confusion among all the players” was “almost essential.”7 Although Whitehead’s sug­gestion that Anders temporarily become part of Peter Flanigan’s staff was not pursued, Anders was one of those over the next several months working to bridge the gap between the views of OMB and OST on one hand and NASA on the other, hoping to arrive at a sensible presidential decision on the space shuttle.

Fletcher lunched with Deputy Secretary of Defense David Packard on October 19. It was Packard, with a background in high-technology indus­try, who was the most senior DOD official dealing with space issues, rather than Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird. Fletcher found that Packard had “two general points to make” with respect to the shuttle. The first was that Packard personally felt “very uneasy” about the three requirements laid down by those at lower levels within DOD that were driving the shuttle design—“the cross-range requirement, and payload [weight] requirement, and the size requirement.” Packard “felt that the cross-range requirement might have been an artificial one” and “that if it were causing difficulties, it could easily be modified.” Fletcher assured Packard that the payload bay width “came primarily from NASA and not the Air Force, but that the length probably came from the Air Force.” Packard “knew quite well which program caused the length difficulty” (the successor to the then highly classified Hexagon photo-intelligence satellite program) and sug­gested “that something could be done about it.” Fletcher and Packard also agreed that “the payload [weight] requirement was somewhat arbitrary at this point.”

The fact that Packard suggested that there was flexibility in the national security requirements had levied on the shuttle was likely surprising to Fletcher, since both the DOD representatives on the DOD/NASA Space Transportation Systems Committee and Air Force Secretary Bob Seamans and Assistant Secretary for Research and Development Grant Hansen had been adamant in their pressure on NASA to meet those requirements. DOD support was seen by NASA as a key to White House approval of the shuttle, and this had been a major driver of NASA’s determination to pursue a shuttle design that met all the DOD requirements. So Packard’s flexibility was not exactly an asset in the final stages of the shuttle debate; rather, it suggested that the top leadership in the Office of the Secretary of Defense, including Packard and Director of Defense Research and Engineering Johnny Foster, were not yet fully committed to supporting NASA’s preferred shuttle on national security grounds.

By October 1971 NASA’s engineers had come to recognize that “whereas the initial request for a 1500 n. m. [nautical mile] cross range capability originated as an Air Force requirement, it became evident with increased depth of study that a substantial degree of aerodynamic maneu­vering capability at hypersonic and supersonic speeds is fundamental to the operation of the orbiter.” So even if DOD were to relax its cross­range requirement, NASA would still want a delta-winged orbiter that was capable of such maneuvers.21 In contrast, Packard’s suggestions that “something could be done” about the DOD-imposed payload bay length requirement of 60 feet and his view that the payload weight was “arbi­trary” would influence NASA’s thinking during the final stages of nego­tiations over shuttle design.

Packard’s second point was that NASA’s approach to selling the shut­tle “was all wrong.” Packard suggested that the real reason for the shuttle “has to do with national security and an intangible thing which might be called ‘men’s presence in space.’” Packard suggested that he and Fletcher put together a team “to develop a rationale for the shuttle.” He thought “it is probably desirable to write a letter to the President indicating recent prog­ress on the shuttle development, incorporating perhaps the rationale. . . and asking for a chance to explain it to him in person.” In reporting this conver­sation to Low, Fletcher indicated that it was important for NASA that any rationale developed on the basis of NASA-DOD effort “includes all of the essential points that NASA wants to make” and “doesn’t become unduly military in its flavor.”22

Following his conversation with Fletcher, Packard quickly convened a meeting to begin the process of developing a revised shuttle rationale. Attending it were Fletcher and Low from NASA, Packard, Foster, Seamans, and Under Secretary of the Air Force John McLucas, who was also the director of the National Reconnaissance Office. As a result of the meet­ing Foster, thought to be a recent convert to supporting the shuttle, was charged with preparing a paper to be used within the executive branch and the White House to support the shuttle. Low suggested that “this single event is probably the most important in NASA’s ability to move out with this [shuttle] program. Without DOD support, we would not have been able to do it. If Fletcher and Laird together can go to the President to seek Shuttle support, we just might get approval.”23

On December 12, George Low reported that “during the past two weeks we met with Don Rice, Tom Whitehead, Jonathan Rose, Ed David separately, and finally with Rice, David and Flanigan together, to discuss the kind of space shuttle that should be developed.” Low once again stated that “the basic issue on the space shuttle concerns whether or not the shuttle should capture a majority of the payloads that will be flown in the 1980’s.”14

White House Support

NASA’s efforts to gain support for its shuttle concept seemed to be paying off, at least in the view of Tom Whitehead. Whitehead wrote Flanigan on December 2, noting that he and Flanigan “had succeeded when we first came into office in averting NASA’s high flying plans for space stations and Mars trips, and in bringing the budget down to a more realistic level con­sistent with the President’s wishes.” But, added Whitehead, it had not been their intention “to continue to erode NASA’s budget indefinitely, but to induce them to come up with a sound, forward-looking evolutionary space program for the coming decade.” Whitehead observed that “over the last few months, OMB and NASA have been bickering, principally about the space shuttle.” He thought that Fletcher had “done what I believe to be an outstanding job of devising a space shuttle concept that is consistent with reasonable budget levels and sensible technology, and still builds for the future.” Whitehead was aware of the alternative shuttle concepts then under discussion, and tended “to believe that the larger shuttle is the more prudent course, but the differences are so small that the choice should reasonably be left to NASA’s discretion.” He suspected that “OMB will try to push fairly hard for the smaller version. NASA might buy this as a last choice, but the impact on their morale and that of the aerospace industry would be unneces­sarily negative.”15

Attached to Whitehead’s memorandum was a chart prepared by Bill Anders that summarized on one page the various shuttle alternatives that had been examined in the preceding months. Anders characterized the fully reusable shuttle that had been NASA’s original hope as “Fat Albert” and the small glider that had been proposed during the Flax committee deliberations as “Weird Harold.” The chart compared the then-current NASA and OMB shuttle configurations, noting that there were “relatively small (15-20%) payload differences and with reasonably broad consensus that we are talking about the right animal now, there would seem to be little further gain by delaying publicized commitment.”16

As President Nixon prepared for his meeting on the space shuttle deci­sion, he was reminded of the overall situation with respect to California employment. Rose, in a January 3 memorandum forwarded to the president through Flanigan and Weinberger, reported that “a combination of actions set in motion by OMB, the Domestic Council, and this project [the White House California Employment Project] should produce at least 100,000 incremental jobs by November 1972,” in time for the presidential election. One element of this job creation effort, Rose reported, was “a ‘go’ signal on the NASA shuttle (1600 California jobs and a tremendous lift for aerospace industry).”22

It was standard practice in the Nixon White House to provide Nixon with detailed briefing material in advance of a scheduled meeting; this was the case with respect to his meeting with Fletcher and Low. Late on the after­noon of January 4, the Nixon aide who managed presidential meetings, Alex Butterfield, gave Nixon a briefing paper that had been prepared by Flanigan, including suggested talking points and a draft of the statement that would be issued to the press after the meeting. Butterfield noted that the state­ment reflected the selection of “Space Clipper” as the name for the shuttle, but that “John Ehrlichman and others have expressed some [unspecified] reservations with regard to this particular name.” Butterfield also gave the president as part of the briefing package Flanigan’s January 4 memorandum that listed three alternate names for the shuttle.

The briefing paper indicated that the president’s meeting with the NASA leaders was scheduled to last 15 minutes and its purpose was “to indicate your involvement in the decision to proceed with the development of a space shuttle.” This was another sign that Nixon had not been previously involved as the final decisions on shuttle configuration were made. The paper reminded Nixon that “you have decided that NASA will continue a man in space program, the next step of which is the design and manufacture of a space shuttle. (Dr. Fletcher will show you a model.)” It noted that “there has been considerable debate between NASA and OMB as to the proper size of the shuttle, with OMB driving for a substantial cost saving, but NASA get­ting the size it wants.” Also, “this program will greatly stimulate the aero­space industry.” Flanigan suggested that Nixon might “wish to ask Fletcher to describe the various scientific, earth applications and military missions for which the shuttle can be used” and that Nixon “should tell Fletcher the name you have chosen for the shuttle system.”23

The space shuttle prime contract was awarded in mid-1972 to North American Rockwell, a company with its space operations based in Southern California. This award meant that the projected California employment impacts, both in advance of the 1972 presidential election and subsequently, were achieved. Although Rockwell barely beat out New York-based Grumman Aerospace for the contract award, there has been no evidence discovered in the course of research for this study that Richard Nixon’s expressed wish to put a large share of shuttle work in California and his personal relationship with Willard “Al” Rockwell, the head of North American Rockwell, translated into an overt White House attempt to influence NASA as it selected the shuttle prime contractor. But NASA certainly was fully aware of the president’s interest as that decision was made.

Basing shuttle approval on its job-creating impact set an unfortunate prec­edent for many subsequent space decisions. (In 1961, the politically driven decision to locate the Manned Spacecraft Center in Houston, Texas, as a new NASA facility for the Apollo program was a forerunner of this prec­edent.) From 1972 on, the employment and institutional impacts of various space program choices have been an important, sometimes overriding, factor in reaching a decision on how to proceed. This is especially the case since most decisions on large space projects since 1970 have been made through the normal political process, where such parochial considerations play a sig­nificant role. The widely accepted view of the civilian space effort as a “jobs program” had its origins in the Nixon administration’s decision to “save the aerospace industry” by approving development of the full capability shut­tle. The job-maintenance or job-creation impact of various space program options continues as a strong influence on twenty-first century decisions.

In terms of the proximate reasons for its White House approval, then, the space shuttle program must thus be judged a mixture of success and disap­pointment. In particular, the shuttle during its three decades of operation served the nation well as a focus for U. S. space leadership and the resul­tant prestige and pride. In terms of its role in U. S. military and intelligence efforts in space, some of the still classified national security missions launched aboard the shuttle are likely to have produced useful results, but overall the space shuttle program turned out to be a very expensive detour for the national security space program. The shuttle program’s success in producing aerospace jobs in advance of the 1972 election and in the longer term help­ing revitalize the aerospace industry has been a mixed blessing; it achieved Richard Nixon’s short-term political objectives while creating the image of the space program as a “public works” effort.

Richard Nixon liked grand concepts. Such was the case with respect to space. Nixon frequently mused about the importance to U. S. interests and national vitality of “exploring the unknown”; he connected the space program with that impulse. A particularly full example of Nixon’s thinking about space exploration came in a March 9, 1971, Oval Office meeting with a group of current and past NASA astronauts who had been touring college campuses to gauge reactions to administration policy. He told them

I know what people say, we are being jingoistic. America stays number one and so forth. In the history of great nations, once a nation gives up in the com­petition to explore the unknown, or once it accepts a position of inferiority, it ceases to be a great nation. It happened to Spain. It happened in the 20th century to the French and then to the British. And it could happen to the United States. That is what it’s all about, and so when we look at. . . the space program, whether it’s Mars or whether it’s the shuttle or who knows what it is. I don’t care what it is, but the main thing is we have to go, we have to go, we’ve got to find out.

The majority of the people in all of the polls show that they are against the SST [supersonic transport], they are against the space program. They just want to sort of settle down. . . If the United States just didn’t. . . have the prob – lems of going to space, then what a wonderful country this would be. And the answer is it wouldn’t be at all. It would be a terrible country. It would be a country big, fat, rich, but with no sense of spirit. . . If an individual does not want to do something bigger than himself, he is selfish. That’s what space is about.12

Nixon’s line of thinking was somewhat different when he was talking to a person not strongly involved with the space program. For example, on the morning of March 24, 1971, he met with several senators in a last minute (and unsuccessful) effort to avoid the Senate voting that afternoon against the supersonic transport program. Reflecting on his meetings, Nixon told his Congressional liaison Clark MacGregor that “the United States should

not drop out of any competition in a breakthrough in knowledge—explor­ing the unknown. That’s one of the reasons I support the space program.” Without pausing, he added “I don’t give a damn about space. I am not one of those space cadets.”13

Congressional refusal to continue funding for the supersonic transport was deeply disappointing to Richard Nixon, and may have reinforced his belief in the importance of the space program as a means of symbolizing America’s commitment to leadership in “exploring the unknown.” John Ehrlichman observed that “Nixon died very hard on the SST; he had a com­mitment to that which had to do with chauvinism.” To Nixon, the United States “had to be at the leading edge of this kind of applied technological development. And if we weren’t, then a great deal of national virtue was lost, and our standing in the world.”14

However, remaining first in space in Nixon’s mind did not include repeated trips to the Moon; in fact, he was much more interested in eventual human trips to Mars and at least once mused about exploring the moons of Jupiter. He had been talked out of canceling Apollo 17 at the end of 1970, but in May 1971 returned to that idea, this time including also canceling Apollo 16. Meeting with Ehrlichman on May 13, Nixon said “I personally think [we should] stop at probably five Apollos, no more. . . The reason for the space program, the best reason, is not going to the moon but is the fact that we are exploring the unknown. I don’t know what the hell is up there. We’ve got to continue to explore just for the sake of it.” Later the same day, he told Ehrlichman “the one [part of the NASA program] that seems to me to have the least appeal are more Apollo shots. Why in the hell would they have to go up there and take a look around the damn thing again?” On May 18, he asked Ehrlichman “did you get those moon shots knocked off?” Ehrlichman replied “we’re working on it.” Nixon suggested “do your best.” Finally, on May 26, Nixon told Ehrlichman “we have got to get a way to get off those damn moon-shots. . . There can’t be any after July [the date for the Apollo 15 mission]. And we all agree, none after July.” Referring to the Apollo 13 mis­sion, he said “I don’t want risk any more.”15

In response to Nixon’s interest in canceling the last two Apollo missions, Ehrlichman told Office of Management and Budget (OMB) Director George Shultz “the President would like us to review and analyze the NASA budget and future program with an eye to cutting the number of Apollo shots.” OMB’s Don Rice responded, providing estimates of the budget savings and job losses associated with canceling both missions and with canceling only Apollo 17. That latter action would save $101 million in FY72-74 and result in the loss of 9,000 jobs; canceling both missions, $192 million and 15,000 jobs. Rice commented that “California, Long Island, and Cape Kennedy would be hardest hit” by the job losses. Ehrlichman used Rice’s informa­tion in a memorandum to the president, noting that job reductions resulting from canceling the two Apollo missions would be “centered principally in the South and Southern California.”16

Aerospace unemployment was by this point becoming an important polit­ical issue for the White House in advance of the 1972 presidential campaign. Meeting with science adviser Ed David on February 22, Nixon indicated that he wanted David and his external advisors to direct particular attention “to the unemployed from the space and defense industries.” The president met with OMB Deputy Director Cap Weinberger and Flanigan on May 5 to discuss “what could be done about high unemployment areas with spe­cific emphasis on California.” Nixon “indicated a very great concern about the California area and the high level of unemployment among technically – trained individuals.” He directed his associates to review federal programs to identify those “which could be moved either in time or in place. . . to areas of high unemployment.” Weinberger and Flanigan agreed to meet with a number of government agencies, including NASA, to pursue this directive. During the rest of 1971, aerospace unemployment, particularly in California, would be an influential factor in shaping White House space decisions.17

By mid-1971 Richard Nixon’s interest in trips to the Moon had defi­nitely waned. When Apollo 15 was launched on July 26 at 9:34 a. m. EDT, the White House put out a statement that Richard Nixon had watched the launch with great interest; in fact, he was still asleep.18

The White House idea of turning NASA into a general-purpose applied technology Agency persisted through summer 1971. A first draft of Edgar Cortright’s internal study of broadening NASA’s role into other areas of tech­nology was ready by late June. The study concluded that there were indeed many areas where a high-technology approach was needed and that “NASA, and only NASA, could really bring many of these problems to an early solu­tion.” Problems addressed included “environmental monitoring, health care services, transportation needs, and urban needs,” among others.8

Also in July, the White House Domestic Council established a subcom­mittee chaired by science adviser David to take a government-wide look at the issue of applying technological solutions to national needs; NASA partic­ipated in that effort. George Low’s understanding of the Domestic Council plan was “to first worry about the problems, and to define the organiza­tion to solve the problems later on.” NASA supported the subcommittee’s efforts in the areas of short-haul air transportation systems, a global environ­mental system, a wide-band communication system, and, to a lesser degree, ground-based transportation and health services. Low found working in the interagency framework “very frustrating in that other agencies are, by and large, impossible to work with. Everybody wants to play in their own little sandbox and, particularly, wants to keep NASA out of that sandbox.” Low was becoming convinced that “if anything is to be done” with respect to applying technology to national problems, “it will have to be done by NASA under a Presidential mandate.” Fletcher agreed with Low, indicating his “pessimism about the possible success of the current interagency exercise.”9 William Magruder, who had been in charge of the canceled supersonic transport program at the Department of Transportation, moved to the White House as a “special consultant to the president” to take charge of what was becoming known as the “New Technology Opportunities” program. Magruder broadened the scope of the effort beyond looking at the technical issues that had been the focus of the David subcommittee, examining issues such as balance-of-trade, antitrust, and other nontechnical aspects involved in the kind of effort being contemplated. Magruder’s goal was to define a number of major initiatives to be included in President Nixon’s January 1972 State of the Union Address. He told NASA Administrator Fletcher that he “had the distinct impression that the President would like to give the whole job to NASA.” Responding to that possibility, Fletcher drafted a letter to Magruder in late September, suggesting that “it might be wise to place the ‘soluble’ [solvable?] problems in NASA, but begin to develop new capabilities in other agencies, particularly those in which NASA is not par­ticularly qualified. NASA might be given the responsibility for outlining a government-wide program through its systems analysis capability.”

Fletcher and Low by this time had decided that it would be a good move for NASA to try to take the lead in this new area. Discussing tactics on how to achieve that outcome, Fletcher thought that NASA should “not enlarge our contacts much beyond response to requests. . . I am convinced that it has to be their [the White House’s] initiative if we are to succeed in this venture; although we can respond with enthusiasm when asked, if we do too much politicing behind the scenes, word will get around somehow.” But, he added “this seems like a ‘sporty course’ for something we really think NASA and the country ought to undertake. . . The risk we take is that the President will decide to go some other route because of influence from various other vested interests. At this point in time I am inclined to take that chance.” Low agreed with Fletcher’s ideas, suggesting that NASA “would play the role of the reluctant bride, but would be prepared to jump in if the opportunity presented itself.”10