Can’t We Just Stop Getting Along?

There’s a forum tomorrow night in Washington to discuss the benefits (and I hope, the pitfalls) of international cooperation in space. When I look over the list of speakers, I’m wondering which, if any, of them will carry the banner of opposition to cooperation. None, would be my guess. My readers won’t be surprised to learn that I have some opinions on this subject, some of them informed.

There are two traditional arguments for it. The first is that cooperation in space promotes cooperation on other levels, and promotes world peace in general. The second is that it saves money, and makes projects affordable that wouldn’t be if carried out alone.

There are also some other reasons, particularly in the case of the space station, that international cooperation is favored by the bureaucrats at the State Department.

It offered a means of providing foreign aid to Russia, without having it counted against the foreign aid budget. In the early 1990s, there were also some national security aspects to this–the hope was that by paying Russian engineers to build space station hardware, it would deter them from taking pay from countries in the “Axis of Evil” to build nuclear weapons, and missiles with which to deliver them. Think of it as “midnight basketball” for the Russians.

But despite this, the money came not from the defense budget–it came from NASA. And, unfortunately, it didn’t always work.

Another benefit, that few appreciate, is that it keeps our allies’ space programs under our control. We’ve learned well the lesson of Ariane, in which the Europeans developed their own rocket, which has since grabbed much of the commercial launch market, because we refused to fly a payload for them back in the seventies.

It’s much easier to jerk the Japanese and Europeans around, and prevent them from going off on their own and potentially doing something that will actually put them ahead of us in space (not very difficult, if one wanted to make a little investment), if we inextricably entangle them in our own space policy mess. It allows us to hobble them, instead of just ourselves.

But assuming, just for the sake of argument, that our goal is to actually make serious progress on the high frontier (though there’s little available evidence that that’s actually the case), then cooperative efforts are probably counterproductive.

As I already mentioned, there is a myth that it makes space activities more affordable. In fact, it probably increases costs.

It certainly does for the program as a whole, due to the intrinsic management inefficiencies of such a program, and the vast increase in political influences on program decisions. But it probably increases them for the US as well, compared to an efficient program designed to meet technical and cost goals (as opposed to one aimed at creating jobs in Texas, Alabama, Florida, France and Russia).

Certainly the many delays caused by failure of the Russians to deliver hardware on schedule in the 90s were a significant contributor to the billions of dollars in overruns currently plaguing the ISS program (though certainly not the only one). Unfortunately, much of the money went to dachas, yachts and off-shore bank accounts of crooked Russian politicians, rather than to the engineers to build space hardware (which may explain why some of them still sold missile guidance systems to Iran), but Al Gore never seemed to mind.

And of course, it reduces, and even eliminates any prospect (however small) of actual competition, which might show up our activities for the overpriced welfare for engineers that many of them, sadly, are.

But even if, in defiance of history, it actually did save us money to join with other nations, the notion that we can’t afford it on our own is silly. The NASA budget is less than one percent of the federal budget. As a nation, we spend about as much on pet food as we do on space. We can easily afford it–we simply choose not to.

While it sounds lofty and enobling, like the Outer Space Treaty, this mindset of “going to space in peace for all mankind” is an outdated Cold War relic, that has not served us well in expanding into space. Historically, there have been two primary fuels for human progress–fear and greed. Fear got us to the Moon in the 1960s, and we did it alone.

Now, to have a sustainable effort, we must harness greed. And that means competition, at least in part.

With only one player in the race, there’s no way to judge progress–if a space station that was supposed to launch in 1992 isn’t up until 2002, it’s too easy to simply say, “it’s just hard–no one else could do any better.” When someone else beats you to it, though, it’s a lot more difficult to make excuses.

I wish other nations well in their space efforts, and hope that they will be vigorous and successful, but I don’t want to hold their hands (in space, no one can hear you sing “Kumbaya”). I want to compete with them, so we all are motivated to do our best. That is how we progress in every other sphere of life, and it’s the most promising route for progress in space as well.

Club Fed?

If this story is true, Grayout Davis may have more to worry about than just losing an election.

[Update on Thursday morning]

The story seems to have disappeared. If I can find it in the archives, I’ll fix the link. But it was describing the fact that the FBI has been sniffing around Sacramento, in the state capitol building, and perhaps in the executive offices as well. And it described the previous successful sting operation back in the 80s that nabbed several politicians for bribery and corruption.

[Thursday afternoon update]

Thanks to Ken Summers, who dug the link out of the archive, it should work now.

Is There A Word For This?

Defenestration is death by being thrown out a window. What do you call it when you die from being sat on?

Besides stupid, that is…

[Update at 3:50 PM PDT]

Fritz Anderson has an excellent candidate. He suggests “subglutication.”

I might add a syllable, to it, though. How about subglutification?

Shuttle Landing

For those readers in southern California, expect to hear the famous double boom later this morning. It looks like NASA has decided to bring the Orbiter down at Edwards, due to weather in Florida. They can’t stay up another day.

If anyone wants to see it, you still have time to drive up from LA. Security is much higher than it used to be, but I think you can still view it from the east side of the lake, coming in from Boron. Take binoculars.

[Update about five till eleven AM]

Just heard it. It was pretty good overpressure–it was like someone pounding on the windows. It made me jump.

[Update at 3:40 PM PDT]

Here’s a live report from a correspondent at Edwards (I’ve deleted her name because I don’t know if she wants me to use it), but who says that blogs don’t do reporting?

It was a really pretty landing, too. The sun angle (or something) allowed me to pick it up quite far out; usually I only see it when the boom tells me it’s overhead. I lost it going away from me coming off the HAC but picked it up again on long final. The funny thing is that when I first saw it, the carbon-carbon nosecap was very shiny and bright and the tiles weren’t. On consideration, I might have been seeing reflection from the windscreens, not the nosecap.

The drag made the usual noise, of course, which is really only audible over here at Dryden on final. The mains put out the normal puff of smoke, the drogue popped out in the classic manner, and it nosed over before it vanished behind the Air Force buildings. Before they got the drogues, we hardly ever saw it settle onto the nose gear.

It was a perfect, very calm day here. Yesterday had been very windy and gusty but today the so-called wind was mostly thermal effect.

For those who are acronym impaired, HAC is the Heading Alignment Circle. One of those TLAs (Three Letter Acronyms) that engineers love, but that the public often finds befuddling. I’m sure she would have spelled it out herself if she knew that I’d publish it here.

[Thursday update]

Mary Shafer (who says it’s fine to use her name–she’s a Dryden employee, but doesn’t speak for them), has a follow-up report for those interested.

I’m glad you published it. It was truly a beautiful day and a beautiful landing. I’m always so impressed by having a spaceship land right here, where I work, that it’s hard to think of anything else for the rest of the day.

By the way, the towing of the Orbiter was well underway at 16:15, when I left work a little late. It looks very odd to see the Orbiter with the GFE attached, the equipment with the big hoses that fit on the rear, going down the taxiway. I can’t quite put my finger on what looks so odd, except that the GFE looks like it’s backing up to keep up and the Orbiter somehow looks smaller. The latter is probably because the ground isn’t perfectly level and I couldn’t see the tug or the landing gear. The visibility up here isn’t perfect right now because there are two big chaparral fires sending smoke that makes the usual wind-borne dust seem minor.

Did I say that spotting the Orbiter is made more difficult because it’s either black, as on reentry and rolling into the HAC, or white, as on rolling out of the HAC or on final? If you don’t know which color to look for, scanning the sky, even using the radar dishes for reference, is more difficult. Both colors are hard to see.

The STA (Shuttle Training Aircraft) trailed the Orbiter in on final, giving a good reference for the size of both. The STA had been up flying (simulated) touch-and-goes for quite some time. I say “simulated” because they fly it so that the pilot is at the same eye height as the Orbiter, meaning that the STA is really flying a low approach and just simulating the actual touchdown. Watching the STA practice, which is mostly to check winds and turbulence, gives the viewer a good idea of what the final approach looks like and where the Orbiter will actually land; when I have escorted photographers I have told them this so that they will have an easier time of finding the Orbiter in their viewfinders. On the first landing of Endeavor, with the drogue, we were all deceived, as the Orbiter pilot landed quite a bit longer than the STA had been practicing.

Biting Commentary about Infinity…and Beyond!