The six months are up. The ABM Treaty expired today, as far as the US is concerned.

Let it be buried with other misbegotten relics of the Cold War.

According to this press release from yesterday, NASA is stretching out their buy of Shuttle External Tanks. I mention this because it’s a perfect example of why space is so expensive, and it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s “hard,” or because it’s persnickety rocket science.

No, we’re going to spend more money to save money.

The original tank contract was to deliver eight tanks per year. Because of annual budget constraints, imposed by the International Space Station overruns, they can’t afford that many. You see, NASA doesn’t have a program budget–they only have an annual budget, and they have to go back to Congress for more money each year. It saves them money by flying fewer Shuttle flights each year, so this is a way of keeping that annual budget down.

The problem is, that they still have to fly the same total number of flights to accomplish the space station assembly, so they have to stretch out the schedule. That means that the contract to deliver the external tanks has to run longer. That means that the contractor (in this case Lockheed Martin) has a longer period of time in which it has to keep its facilities and staff available, even though the number of tanks being produced is the same. That means that the total program cost just went up, even though the annual cost went down.

I don’t know what the total original contract value is–the press release doesn’t say, but knowing that tanks have been costing around fifty million dollars apiece, and they’re buying thirty five of them, one and three quarters of a billion dollars is a not-unreasonable number.

[Update at 2:50 PM]

Doh!@

Have to work on my reading comprehension–it does say, in the first graf, that the original contract value was 1.15 billion, so this is actually a much greater percentage increase.

[End update]

The press release says that they’re increasing the contract value by about $340M, (presumably) to cover the overhead costs of keeping the lines going for the additional period of time. That means that they’ve increased the total contract cost by about twenty percent, or roughly ten million per tank. For exactly the same tank–no extra features, no new alloys, same weight so there’s no payload benefit–just delivered later.

Instead of stretching the contract, couldn’t they have warehoused the extras? Perhaps, but that would mean building warehouses (these things are not small), and hiring people to keep an eye on the stock, and making sure that it didn’t corrode or deteriorate, or get damaged in any way. The system’s not really set up to operate like that–it’s Just In Time.

So, we’re spending more, to do less (or at least to do it more slowly).

This is, in fact, a microcosm of exactly why the Shuttle overall costs as much as it does. During its development, the budget constraint was on annual budget. They had to pinch pennies in development to maintain the annual budget cap, which meant that there were many design decisions made at the time, back in the seventies, that saved money in any given year, but had many billions of dollars of program consequences down the road as they got into operations.

This is one reason (of many) why we should never expect NASA to reduce the cost of access to space.

This rare poem by Kathy Kinsley (aka the Bellicose Babe), jogged my memory of something that I instigated in sci.space.policy (preblogging days) right after September 11. Hardly anyone was talking about space policy, and all of the discussion was angry, about what was happening, and wondering what was going to happen next. To break the tension, I started a little space policy haiku contest. Some of them turned into September 11 haiku, so I thought I’d publish a few of them here.

This first one seems appropriate, in light of Professor Reynolds TCS column today:

Freedom

Frontiers give freedom
Freedom makes tyrants tremble
New frontiers we seek

Doug Jones

Here’s another one from Doug:

Healing

Grand goals, uplifting
Sorrow brings tears -and laughter
Catharsis begins

Doug Jones

And a nice one, from Chris Winter:

Lower Manhattan, 9.11.01

Rubble fills the sky.
White dust blows upon the wind,
Covering heroes.

Chris Winter

A couple more from Doug:

Inspiration

Twin towers crash down
Vengeance may lash out blindly
Stars rise above all

Doug Jones

Dual Use

Sabers rattle loud
Swords can also be levers
Lift us up to stars

Doug Jones

Here are two (untitled) from Doug’s boss at XCOR, Jeff Greason:

Pacifists argue
No weapons in space for us!
Others will not wait

Communism falls
Tourists fly Russian rockets
Will we lose the sky?

Jeff Greason

And finally, Andrew Case wrote defiantly:

Carrying On

We do not fear you
Vile Osama bin Laden
We make space haiku

Andrew Case

There were others (pure space policy ones, and good ones, too), but I thought I’d focus more on the war-related ones in this post. I’ve included none of my own because they were space policy.

Brian Finch has some sensible things to say about our general tactics in fighting terrorists in general, and the airline security issue in particular. They’re not new things–I said them myself on September 12, but they apparently need to be said over and over, because the people in charge aren’t listening.

As I mentioned previously, I’ve (not surprisingly) got some thoughts on the X-38 debacle (and contrary to those working the program, I believe that’s exactly what it was).

A little background. The International Space Station is currently constrained to only carry three crew members. This is only partly because of any limits in terms of room, or life support–it’s clearly capable of supporting more, as it did when, for example, Dennis Tito visited a year ago.

The main constraint on adding more crew is that there is only room for three people in the Soyuz capsule that is always available to return crew to earth in an emergency. Any more than three, and we have a “Titanic” situation–not enough “lifeboats.” There are many potential solutions to this problem, but for many reasons (few of which relate to actual program needs) NASA, and particularly the part of NASA in Houston, has fixated on the notion of simply building a larger “lifeboat.”

I will continue to put the word “lifeboat” in quotes throughout, for reasons to be explained shortly.

When they got the industry quotes for their desired “lifeboat” (at that time called Assured Crew Rescue Vehicle or ACRV–it had to have an acronym), they blanched. Never mind that it was an inevitable result of their own specifications and parametric costs based on past cost-plus contracts. So instead, they decided to build it in house.

Why was it called “X”-38? Well, it was testing out a parasail concept, but the real reason is that in the 90s, it was a lot easier to get funding for an X (experimental) program than it was for an operational one. So building X vehicles became a back-door way of instead building prototypes, under the guise of technology testing. The original X-34 was the poster child for this.

Anyway, the real problem with the vehicle was not whether it was built directly by NASA or a contractor, or what its specific design was, but the fundamental fact that it was unnecessary, and worth far less than it would cost.

The very premise of the program was flawed. The idea was that, if something went wrong on the space station, there had to be way to evacuate the entire crew, and return them immediately to earth. While I can sympathize with NASA officials who don’t want to have to testify before Congress as to why station crew who didn’t have a “lifeboat” died on orbit, this is not a result of rational analysis–it’s just to cover their keesters.

Let us stipulate that we want to minimize risk to astronauts (within reasonable cost–there is no affordable risk-free state this side of the grave). There are many ways to do this other than packing them all in a single vehicle and going home. There are, in fact, many better and less costly ways.

First of all, we have to assess how realistic is a scenario in which such an evacuation would be necessary. A mechanical failure, or cascading mechanical failures (in which one failure sets off another until things rage out of control) should be extremely unlikely in a system that cost tens of billions to design and many years to build. If that’s a possibility, then rather than building “lifeboats,” the designers should be fired now, and the design altered. (Note, I don’t believe that’s the case). Similarly, an out-of-control fire would also constitute a design failure.

The only contingency that I can imagine is a collision that took out major systems, most likely with something extraterrestrial (though slightly possible with a satellite in a different orbit). BUt there’s a good chance that such a catastrophic event would kill the crew anyway, allowing them no opportunity to man the “lifeboat.”

And, of course, the same thing could happen at Amundsen-Scott Station at the South Pole, and there would be no way, in the austral winter, to do an immediate evacuation. We live with this risk there–why can’t we do it in space?

One of the arguments trotted out is as an ambulance in the event of a sick crew member, but if that’s the case, you want a smaller vehicle to return just the crew member (and possibly one other to help), but not the whole crew, so this looks more like a rationale to do what they want to do anyway. The Soyuz can serve this function just as well, and probably better (and certainly cheaper).

But even if we stipulate that we must be able to evacuate the station, why in a single vehicle? Why not just use a second Soyuz? (Other than, of course, that that wouldn’t create jobs in Houston.) With such an inflexible system, any station emergency, including a sick crew member, would require evacuation of the whole station, since by the stated philosophy, no one could be left aboard without the “lifeboat.” That would mean abandoning the station, with the risk to it that entails, and the cost of delivering the crew all the way back to it, when many of them may not have had to leave.

And why is it called a “lifeboat”? Why all the way to earth? If it were truly a lifeboat, it might not be objectionable. What they’re proposing is much more than a lifeboat. The Titanic’s lifeboats were not designed to deliver passengers all the way to New York, or back to Southhampton. They were designed to provide some measure of safety in the event of a disaster, until the passengers could be rescued. If there is no other place in orbit for station evacuees to go, or no way to rescue them from the earth, then that would be a problem better addressed with the funds intended for the crew rescue vehicle.

For instance, there have been proposals to build private coorbital facilities, for better tourism amenities. Why not have NASA subsidize these (in a manner similar to the Civil Reserve Air Fleet), to help provide funding for them? That way, there would be redundant facilities on orbit, and no need to return crew all the way to earth for a (possibly) temporary emergency at the station. This would be a good way for NASA to demonstrate that it can work with (instead of against) actual commercial space activities, and establish a precedent for government serving as an anchor tenant of needed infrastructure provided by the private sector.

There is some indication that the Administration is thinking along these lines. Administrator O’Keefe has stated that a single-purpose crew return vehicle is not a good idea, and wants to expand it into something useful for purposes other than derriere upholstery.

And in the meantime, just give the Russians money for a second Soyuz and docking port, if you really think that everyone is going to have to come home at once.

As I mentioned previously, I’ve (not surprisingly) got some thoughts on the X-38 debacle (and contrary to those working the program, I believe that’s exactly what it was).

A little background. The International Space Station is currently constrained to only carry three crew members. This is only partly because of any limits in terms of room, or life support–it’s clearly capable of supporting more, as it did when, for example, Dennis Tito visited a year ago.

The main constraint on adding more crew is that there is only room for three people in the Soyuz capsule that is always available to return crew to earth in an emergency. Any more than three, and we have a “Titanic” situation–not enough “lifeboats.” There are many potential solutions to this problem, but for many reasons (few of which relate to actual program needs) NASA, and particularly the part of NASA in Houston, has fixated on the notion of simply building a larger “lifeboat.”

I will continue to put the word “lifeboat” in quotes throughout, for reasons to be explained shortly.

When they got the industry quotes for their desired “lifeboat” (at that time called Assured Crew Rescue Vehicle or ACRV–it had to have an acronym), they blanched. Never mind that it was an inevitable result of their own specifications and parametric costs based on past cost-plus contracts. So instead, they decided to build it in house.

Why was it called “X”-38? Well, it was testing out a parasail concept, but the real reason is that in the 90s, it was a lot easier to get funding for an X (experimental) program than it was for an operational one. So building X vehicles became a back-door way of instead building prototypes, under the guise of technology testing. The original X-34 was the poster child for this.

Anyway, the real problem with the vehicle was not whether it was built directly by NASA or a contractor, or what its specific design was, but the fundamental fact that it was unnecessary, and worth far less than it would cost.

The very premise of the program was flawed. The idea was that, if something went wrong on the space station, there had to be way to evacuate the entire crew, and return them immediately to earth. While I can sympathize with NASA officials who don’t want to have to testify before Congress as to why station crew who didn’t have a “lifeboat” died on orbit, this is not a result of rational analysis–it’s just to cover their keesters.

Let us stipulate that we want to minimize risk to astronauts (within reasonable cost–there is no affordable risk-free state this side of the grave). There are many ways to do this other than packing them all in a single vehicle and going home. There are, in fact, many better and less costly ways.

First of all, we have to assess how realistic is a scenario in which such an evacuation would be necessary. A mechanical failure, or cascading mechanical failures (in which one failure sets off another until things rage out of control) should be extremely unlikely in a system that cost tens of billions to design and many years to build. If that’s a possibility, then rather than building “lifeboats,” the designers should be fired now, and the design altered. (Note, I don’t believe that’s the case). Similarly, an out-of-control fire would also constitute a design failure.

The only contingency that I can imagine is a collision that took out major systems, most likely with something extraterrestrial (though slightly possible with a satellite in a different orbit). BUt there’s a good chance that such a catastrophic event would kill the crew anyway, allowing them no opportunity to man the “lifeboat.”

And, of course, the same thing could happen at Amundsen-Scott Station at the South Pole, and there would be no way, in the austral winter, to do an immediate evacuation. We live with this risk there–why can’t we do it in space?

One of the arguments trotted out is as an ambulance in the event of a sick crew member, but if that’s the case, you want a smaller vehicle to return just the crew member (and possibly one other to help), but not the whole crew, so this looks more like a rationale to do what they want to do anyway. The Soyuz can serve this function just as well, and probably better (and certainly cheaper).

But even if we stipulate that we must be able to evacuate the station, why in a single vehicle? Why not just use a second Soyuz? (Other than, of course, that that wouldn’t create jobs in Houston.) With such an inflexible system, any station emergency, including a sick crew member, would require evacuation of the whole station, since by the stated philosophy, no one could be left aboard without the “lifeboat.” That would mean abandoning the station, with the risk to it that entails, and the cost of delivering the crew all the way back to it, when many of them may not have had to leave.

And why is it called a “lifeboat”? Why all the way to earth? If it were truly a lifeboat, it might not be objectionable. What they’re proposing is much more than a lifeboat. The Titanic’s lifeboats were not designed to deliver passengers all the way to New York, or back to Southhampton. They were designed to provide some measure of safety in the event of a disaster, until the passengers could be rescued. If there is no other place in orbit for station evacuees to go, or no way to rescue them from the earth, then that would be a problem better addressed with the funds intended for the crew rescue vehicle.

For instance, there have been proposals to build private coorbital facilities, for better tourism amenities. Why not have NASA subsidize these (in a manner similar to the Civil Reserve Air Fleet), to help provide funding for them? That way, there would be redundant facilities on orbit, and no need to return crew all the way to earth for a (possibly) temporary emergency at the station. This would be a good way for NASA to demonstrate that it can work with (instead of against) actual commercial space activities, and establish a precedent for government serving as an anchor tenant of needed infrastructure provided by the private sector.

There is some indication that the Administration is thinking along these lines. Administrator O’Keefe has stated that a single-purpose crew return vehicle is not a good idea, and wants to expand it into something useful for purposes other than derriere upholstery.

And in the meantime, just give the Russians money for a second Soyuz and docking port, if you really think that everyone is going to have to come home at once.

As I mentioned previously, I’ve (not surprisingly) got some thoughts on the X-38 debacle (and contrary to those working the program, I believe that’s exactly what it was).

A little background. The International Space Station is currently constrained to only carry three crew members. This is only partly because of any limits in terms of room, or life support–it’s clearly capable of supporting more, as it did when, for example, Dennis Tito visited a year ago.

The main constraint on adding more crew is that there is only room for three people in the Soyuz capsule that is always available to return crew to earth in an emergency. Any more than three, and we have a “Titanic” situation–not enough “lifeboats.” There are many potential solutions to this problem, but for many reasons (few of which relate to actual program needs) NASA, and particularly the part of NASA in Houston, has fixated on the notion of simply building a larger “lifeboat.”

I will continue to put the word “lifeboat” in quotes throughout, for reasons to be explained shortly.

When they got the industry quotes for their desired “lifeboat” (at that time called Assured Crew Rescue Vehicle or ACRV–it had to have an acronym), they blanched. Never mind that it was an inevitable result of their own specifications and parametric costs based on past cost-plus contracts. So instead, they decided to build it in house.

Why was it called “X”-38? Well, it was testing out a parasail concept, but the real reason is that in the 90s, it was a lot easier to get funding for an X (experimental) program than it was for an operational one. So building X vehicles became a back-door way of instead building prototypes, under the guise of technology testing. The original X-34 was the poster child for this.

Anyway, the real problem with the vehicle was not whether it was built directly by NASA or a contractor, or what its specific design was, but the fundamental fact that it was unnecessary, and worth far less than it would cost.

The very premise of the program was flawed. The idea was that, if something went wrong on the space station, there had to be way to evacuate the entire crew, and return them immediately to earth. While I can sympathize with NASA officials who don’t want to have to testify before Congress as to why station crew who didn’t have a “lifeboat” died on orbit, this is not a result of rational analysis–it’s just to cover their keesters.

Let us stipulate that we want to minimize risk to astronauts (within reasonable cost–there is no affordable risk-free state this side of the grave). There are many ways to do this other than packing them all in a single vehicle and going home. There are, in fact, many better and less costly ways.

First of all, we have to assess how realistic is a scenario in which such an evacuation would be necessary. A mechanical failure, or cascading mechanical failures (in which one failure sets off another until things rage out of control) should be extremely unlikely in a system that cost tens of billions to design and many years to build. If that’s a possibility, then rather than building “lifeboats,” the designers should be fired now, and the design altered. (Note, I don’t believe that’s the case). Similarly, an out-of-control fire would also constitute a design failure.

The only contingency that I can imagine is a collision that took out major systems, most likely with something extraterrestrial (though slightly possible with a satellite in a different orbit). BUt there’s a good chance that such a catastrophic event would kill the crew anyway, allowing them no opportunity to man the “lifeboat.”

And, of course, the same thing could happen at Amundsen-Scott Station at the South Pole, and there would be no way, in the austral winter, to do an immediate evacuation. We live with this risk there–why can’t we do it in space?

One of the arguments trotted out is as an ambulance in the event of a sick crew member, but if that’s the case, you want a smaller vehicle to return just the crew member (and possibly one other to help), but not the whole crew, so this looks more like a rationale to do what they want to do anyway. The Soyuz can serve this function just as well, and probably better (and certainly cheaper).

But even if we stipulate that we must be able to evacuate the station, why in a single vehicle? Why not just use a second Soyuz? (Other than, of course, that that wouldn’t create jobs in Houston.) With such an inflexible system, any station emergency, including a sick crew member, would require evacuation of the whole station, since by the stated philosophy, no one could be left aboard without the “lifeboat.” That would mean abandoning the station, with the risk to it that entails, and the cost of delivering the crew all the way back to it, when many of them may not have had to leave.

And why is it called a “lifeboat”? Why all the way to earth? If it were truly a lifeboat, it might not be objectionable. What they’re proposing is much more than a lifeboat. The Titanic’s lifeboats were not designed to deliver passengers all the way to New York, or back to Southhampton. They were designed to provide some measure of safety in the event of a disaster, until the passengers could be rescued. If there is no other place in orbit for station evacuees to go, or no way to rescue them from the earth, then that would be a problem better addressed with the funds intended for the crew rescue vehicle.

For instance, there have been proposals to build private coorbital facilities, for better tourism amenities. Why not have NASA subsidize these (in a manner similar to the Civil Reserve Air Fleet), to help provide funding for them? That way, there would be redundant facilities on orbit, and no need to return crew all the way to earth for a (possibly) temporary emergency at the station. This would be a good way for NASA to demonstrate that it can work with (instead of against) actual commercial space activities, and establish a precedent for government serving as an anchor tenant of needed infrastructure provided by the private sector.

There is some indication that the Administration is thinking along these lines. Administrator O’Keefe has stated that a single-purpose crew return vehicle is not a good idea, and wants to expand it into something useful for purposes other than derriere upholstery.

And in the meantime, just give the Russians money for a second Soyuz and docking port, if you really think that everyone is going to have to come home at once.

UPI Columnist Jim Bennett has an interesting thought. If it turns out that Al Qaeda and the Aryan Brotherhood and militias are linked (via OKC), will Chomsky et al start defending the Aryan Brotherhood and telling us that we must seek root causes for why they hate the American government and people of color?

Just wondering.

Mullah Omar, still blustering, says that Osama is still alive, and that we’re really going to get it. It didn’t mention if it was a drive-by interview from his car.

Mullah Omar, still blustering, says that Osama is still alive, and that we’re really going to get it. It didn’t mention if it was a drive-by interview from his car.