| LOST IN SPACE The Fall of NASA and the Dream of a New Space Age Greg Klerkx New York: Pantheon Books, 2004 |
Rating: 5.0 High |
|||
| ISBN-13 0-375-42150-? | ||||
| ISBN-10 0-375-42150-5 | 392p. | HC/BWI | $27.95 | |
Much like Marina Benjamin (Rocket Dreams), Greg Klerkx grew up with visions of space flight dancing in his head. Both authors, at the end of their respective narratives, profess a belief in the dream of space flight and a hope for its renaissance. And the seminal figure of Gerard K. O'Neil figures prominently in both their books. Where they differ is that, for Benjamin, O'Neill is more huckster than visionary, and routine space travel more a distraction than a realistic and worthy goal. Klerkx has no such ambivalence; his belief in the worth of space travel has remained steadfast. And, unlike Benjamin, he understands that the dream of space travel did not die; it has merely fallen into abeyance.
The reasons for that situation are the subject of this, his first book.
Klerkx was 6 when he watched Neil Armstrong plant that famous footstep on the Moon. Like many young boys at the time, he wanted to be an astronaut. This dream turned on the sheer coolness of the images he saw on his televisionary screen (as Andy Devine would have said in those days). It was all about freedom, exploration, and a whiff of danger — heady stuff to a six-year-old boy (emphasis added):
When Huckleberry Finn announced his intent to "light out for the territory," he spoke for every boy and girl who understood that the appeal of the unknowable There is simply that it isn't Here. Space travel gave new and tantalizingly infinite possibility to such a primal desire for adventure and escape: not only could we light out for the territory, we could leave the planet altogether. – Page 6 |
During his teenage years, however, the career of astronaut became one of many future paths he tested and put aside. His professional involvement with space was different: he trained as a journalist and later joined the SETI Institute1 as a senior manager. That position, Klerkx tells us, gave him a new view of NASA:
From the vantage point of the SETI Institute, I gradually came to see NASA in a different light: not as a streamlined purveyor of space-faring know-how, but as a fractious bureaucracy roiling with politics and infighting, thick with red tape and feral self-interest. Even as this new perspective took hold, though, NASA still seemed like the place where "space" began. Through SETI/NASA, I met astronauts, engineers and other Space Age legends who rekindled my boyhood dreams of space travel. Quietly, secretly, I found myself imagining with growing excitement that space might yet hold a place for me. – Page 7 |
The book presents two theses: that NASA and the existing aerospace establishment conspire to thwart the development of revolutionary vehicles that threaten their monopoly on space flight; and that entrepreneurs will develop and fly such vehicles in spite of the obstructions of this "NASA-aerospace complex".2 Klerkx documents his first thesis by describing in great detail three adverse events in which NASA had a hand:
Flights of humans into space have continued, of course. Meanwhile, robotic missions have made remarkable strides, and returned remarkable results. Yet the sort of bold exploration exemplified by the Apollo expeditions to the Moon, which for most people defined what is known as the Space Age, has not continued. Instead of pushing farther into the solar system, we today are barely able to sustain visits to low Earth orbit and keep the International Space Station alive. Many factors combined, over the several decades of the Space Age, to produce that condition of near-stasis. NASA is not the sole cause; it is not even wholly villainous. Yet its mismanagement of many programs, most notably Shuttle and Station, deserves a major share of the blame. The book cites Eric Dahlstrom, a former NASA employee, as one of those who understands the space agency's risk-averse, CYA culture. Dahlstrom worked on a 1988 report, Lessons Learned from Challenger, that was much watered down by NASA before publication. Dahlstrom, however, preserved and now makes available on his Web site a copy of the original, undoctored version.4 Together with the intentional obstruction I mention above, NASA's mismanagement had the effect of deflecting both public interest and private funding away from the area of human spaceflight. Many private ventures were either co-opted or starved of funds before they had a chance to produce flight hardware.
Klerkx summarizes the overall situation with these words:
Few have dated the end of the Space Age. But it did end. The year was 1986. *
* * What both Challenger and Mir signified, in different ways, was that the accepted paradigm for achieving the two-part promise of the Space Age—sending human explorers to other planets and paving the way for "ordinary" humans to spend time in space—was not going to deliver either. The shattered promise of Challenger and the failed hope of Mir, taken together, effectively ended what we called the Space Age. From 1986 on, human spaceflight has been in a state of suspended animation. We're not quite regressing, but we certainly aren't moving forward. – Pages 24 & 25 |
The remainder of the book documents Klerkx' second thesis: that the rise of the space entrepreneurs will ultimately bypass NASA's obstructions and lead to the sort of spaceflight he desires. For him, apparently, the commercial Netherlands corporation Mircorp is the exemplar of these. Many of its principals — Rick Tumlinson, Geoffrey Manber, Walt Anderson — figure prominently in his account, and the tale of the struggle to save Mir is the most gripping part of the book. He also describes the X-prize5 and some of the competitors for it, notably Burt Rutan's Scaled Composites, LLC. Other entrepreneurs are overlooked. One example is James Benson, founder of SpaceDev,6 which produced the hybrid rocket motor that drove SpaceShipOne to record heights.
It can be argued that, even absent NASA's obstruction, the technical challenges of making orbit with a fully reusable vehicle put that goal out of reach of private companies. I reject this argument. It has long been clear to me that, while the technical challenges are far from trivial, political and economic factors are currently even more formidable. However, we won't settle this question by arguing about it. Once a few private companies are given the necessary funding, and a non-prohibitive regulatory framework, and are allowed to complete their development programs, we will have our answer.
On page 38, Klerkx' description of technical matters involved in tethered spacecraft has some defects. There are some errata, listed as usual on a page linked below. Such errors and omissions aside, Lost in Space is a competently researched and well-written account of the historical development of human space flight to date, with particular emphasis on politics. It provides extensive chapter notes, eleven black-and-white photographs, and a detailed index. I wholeheartedly recommend it as a worthy addition to any space enthusiast's library. It is now a part of mine.
To contact Chris Winter, send email to this address.