Slow-Motion Train Wreck

There is at least one, and possibly two ignored elephants sitting in NASA’s living room, that they’re going to have to start to deal with soon, as a result of the president’s new space policy. They’re called Space Shuttle and International Space Station–the two fundamental components of what currently passes for the nation’s civil government-funded space program.

As Keith Cowing reports, they’re only starting to come to grips with the associated issues, but if the answers aren’t forthcoming yet, it’s partly because everyone knows them, but don’t really want to say them out loud. We have a policy that we’re going to shut down the Shuttle when station is completed, but what if we have problems along the way, and the station still has some way to go at the point we’ve a priori decided to shut down the Shuttle? And how do we transition personnel from the Shuttle to other programs, when it’s not clear that the current skill set is what is needed for future activities? Dwayne Day examines these questions, and as already noted, the answers may not be very pretty.

More fundamentally, since the Shuttle phaseout plans are now being driven entirely by ISS considerations, to what degree does continuing to do ISS make any sense? In my opinion, of course, to the degree that NASA’s space station plans ever made much sense (i.e., very little), that degree went to zero in 1993 when it became almost purely an instrument of foreign policy having almost nothing to do with the advancement of useful goals in space activities. Taylor Dinerman discusses some of the issues facing the international partnership (as does Jim Oberg), particularly in light of the politics with Russia and Iran.

I think that in announcing a 2010 end of the Shuttle program, the administration was just kicking the can down the road, but I don’t think they can do it much longer, because hard decisions have to be made as to how much more Shuttle hardware must be procured (a decision complicated by the fact that some, including the incoming administrator, want to build a Shuttle-derived heavy-lift vehicle for the lunar and Mars program). It’s probably not (yet) politically tenable to do so, but I think it’s almost inevitable that once we really confront the realities of the mess that the past thirty years of space policy have wreaked, a decision will have to be made to just hand off ISS to the Europeans, Japanese and Russians, to do with as they will, allowing us to shut down Shuttle as well. Simply giving them the facility outright could obviate some of the diplomatic damage of withdrawing from our agreements, while allowing us to end the farce that is the current US manned space program and get on with something worthwhile.

Some will complain, of course, about writing off the many billions invested in station to date, but there’s an old sayng in investment circles about throwing good money after bad. Unfortunately, Americans (and particularly the American government) aren’t always good investors.

[Update a few minutes later]

Here’s just one example of how absurd it is to continue operating the Shuttle, at least with the current risk-averse mindset:

NASA has from May 15 to June 3 to launch Discovery. Otherwise, it must wait until mid-July for the proper daylight conditions needed to photograph the entire ascent. The Columbia accident investigators insisted on multiple camera views at liftoff in order to check for debris or damage.

That constitutes a six-week period during which this vehicle cannot be flown, for the sole reason that they can’t take good pictures of it during launch.

Routing Around It

In the context of the perhaps-imminent fall of the Canadian government, and the laughable chicanery of the San Francisco city government, Wretchard has an interesting post about how, once again, attempts to impose censorship are futile in the age of the Internet. Dean Esmay once wrote, with regard to the Swift Boat Vet story, that:

The Internet has detected the mainstream media as a form of censorship and simply routed around them.

It seems to be applying to real censorship as well.

Of course, while Colby Cosh was careful (it will be interesting to see if anyone from Ottawa goes after him), there’s an interesting question as to whether Winds of Change is a Canadian blog, because it’s run by Joe Katzman. Where is it hosted? Is Joe sticking his neck out legally, by posting to it from Toronto? Could other Canadians get into trouble by discussing it on Free Republic?

The absurdity abounds.

“Against All Odds”

This looks like an interesting new book:

Though the Lunar Prospector Mission was a small, inexpensive, unmanned, orbital mapping mission, the reader will, via the author’s experiences in conducting his mission, become intimately acquainted with the inefficient and self-serving activities of the entrenched NASA bureaucracy and the big aerospace companies. As such, the reader will come to understand how NASA’s increasing incompetence led to 1) the destruction of the space shuttles Challenger and Columbia and their crews, 2) the loss of the 1992 Mars Observer, the 1999 Mars Climate Observer, the 1999 Mars Polar Lander, 3) the never-to-be-finished International Space Station that is already five times over its $8 billion budget and a decade over its original schedule, and 4) many similar NASA failures that have cost the taxpayers tens of billions of dollars and have already taken 14 human lives.

[Sunday night update]

Keith Cowing isn’t impressed.

“Against All Odds”

This looks like an interesting new book:

Though the Lunar Prospector Mission was a small, inexpensive, unmanned, orbital mapping mission, the reader will, via the author’s experiences in conducting his mission, become intimately acquainted with the inefficient and self-serving activities of the entrenched NASA bureaucracy and the big aerospace companies. As such, the reader will come to understand how NASA’s increasing incompetence led to 1) the destruction of the space shuttles Challenger and Columbia and their crews, 2) the loss of the 1992 Mars Observer, the 1999 Mars Climate Observer, the 1999 Mars Polar Lander, 3) the never-to-be-finished International Space Station that is already five times over its $8 billion budget and a decade over its original schedule, and 4) many similar NASA failures that have cost the taxpayers tens of billions of dollars and have already taken 14 human lives.

[Sunday night update]

Keith Cowing isn’t impressed.

“Against All Odds”

This looks like an interesting new book:

Though the Lunar Prospector Mission was a small, inexpensive, unmanned, orbital mapping mission, the reader will, via the author’s experiences in conducting his mission, become intimately acquainted with the inefficient and self-serving activities of the entrenched NASA bureaucracy and the big aerospace companies. As such, the reader will come to understand how NASA’s increasing incompetence led to 1) the destruction of the space shuttles Challenger and Columbia and their crews, 2) the loss of the 1992 Mars Observer, the 1999 Mars Climate Observer, the 1999 Mars Polar Lander, 3) the never-to-be-finished International Space Station that is already five times over its $8 billion budget and a decade over its original schedule, and 4) many similar NASA failures that have cost the taxpayers tens of billions of dollars and have already taken 14 human lives.

[Sunday night update]

Keith Cowing isn’t impressed.

Good News, Bad News

The good news is that the Pope’s passing has knocked Terri Schiavo out of the news, when otherwise we could have continued to marinate in its aftermath for days. The bad news is that it also knocked everything else out, including Sandy Burglar. I had already predicted that no one would be talking about this tomorrow morning, because there’s no way to talk about it that reflects well on the media’s favorite (recent) administration–that of Bill Clinton. Now, it’s guaranteed–it will be all pontiff, all the time, maybe for a couple weeks until a successor is chosen.

I’m sure that many in the Washington press corps are breathing a sigh of relief to have an excuse to ignore the story. We can’t let them do it indefinitely–there are too many unanswered questions about which they’ve displayed too little curiousity.

“A Well-Lived Life”

That’s what Ann Althouse says, and I would agree. We shouldn’t be mourning his passing, which was as he wanted it–we should be celebrating his life. And as at a wake, (though it’s not, as far as I know, actually true) I have to tell a story about him that Tom Rogers, former president of the Space Transportation Association, used to tell.

It seems that often, the pontiff, weary with the cares of the world, would have trouble getting to sleep. On these occasions, one of the best cures for his insomnia was to take a ride around the beautiful city in which he lived, in the back seat of his limousine. On one of these occasions, he realizes that he’s been missing something from his life for many years.

He taps on the window to his driver, and says, “Mario, I haven’t driven a car since I was a priest in Cracow. It would give me so much pleasure if I could do it once again.”

Mario, of course, is aghast. “Your Holiness, it would be unseemly! You are the Pope!” To which the reply was, “That’s right, Mario, I am the Pope. You are the employee of the Pope. I shall drive.”

So they switch places, Mario with reluctance and the Pope with glee, and they head off for the driving tour of his life, past the Tivoli Fountains and the Coliseum, up and down the hills. Fortunately, it’s late at night, so traffic is light, and like most Romans, he pays little attention to traffic signals or speed limits. Inevitably, the sound of a siren greets their ears from behind, and so the Pope reluctantly pulls over, fearing the headlines the next day.

The patrolman gets off his scooter, walks up to the limo, taps on the smoked-glass driver’s window, and his face turns sheet white when it rolls down to reveal who is behind the wheel. He stammers, “A thousand pardons, your Holiness. I’m so sorry to inconvenience you. But can you please wait for just one minute while I contact my superiors”? And the pope nods beatifically.

He goes back to his scooter, radios the station, and says, “Capitano, I need some advice. I’m about to give a traffic ticket to a very, very important person.”

The radio crackles back, “What’s the problem, Luigi? Who is it? How important are we talking here?”

“I don’t know, Capitano, but whoever it is, has got the Pope for a chauffeur…”

“A Well-Lived Life”

That’s what Ann Althouse says, and I would agree. We shouldn’t be mourning his passing, which was as he wanted it–we should be celebrating his life. And as at a wake, (though it’s not, as far as I know, actually true) I have to tell a story about him that Tom Rogers, former president of the Space Transportation Association, used to tell.

It seems that often, the pontiff, weary with the cares of the world, would have trouble getting to sleep. On these occasions, one of the best cures for his insomnia was to take a ride around the beautiful city in which he lived, in the back seat of his limousine. On one of these occasions, he realizes that he’s been missing something from his life for many years.

He taps on the window to his driver, and says, “Mario, I haven’t driven a car since I was a priest in Cracow. It would give me so much pleasure if I could do it once again.”

Mario, of course, is aghast. “Your Holiness, it would be unseemly! You are the Pope!” To which the reply was, “That’s right, Mario, I am the Pope. You are the employee of the Pope. I shall drive.”

So they switch places, Mario with reluctance and the Pope with glee, and they head off for the driving tour of his life, past the Tivoli Fountains and the Coliseum, up and down the hills. Fortunately, it’s late at night, so traffic is light, and like most Romans, he pays little attention to traffic signals or speed limits. Inevitably, the sound of a siren greets their ears from behind, and so the Pope reluctantly pulls over, fearing the headlines the next day.

The patrolman gets off his scooter, walks up to the limo, taps on the smoked-glass driver’s window, and his face turns sheet white when it rolls down to reveal who is behind the wheel. He stammers, “A thousand pardons, your Holiness. I’m so sorry to inconvenience you. But can you please wait for just one minute while I contact my superiors”? And the pope nods beatifically.

He goes back to his scooter, radios the station, and says, “Capitano, I need some advice. I’m about to give a traffic ticket to a very, very important person.”

The radio crackles back, “What’s the problem, Luigi? Who is it? How important are we talking here?”

“I don’t know, Capitano, but whoever it is, has got the Pope for a chauffeur…”

“A Well-Lived Life”

That’s what Ann Althouse says, and I would agree. We shouldn’t be mourning his passing, which was as he wanted it–we should be celebrating his life. And as at a wake, (though it’s not, as far as I know, actually true) I have to tell a story about him that Tom Rogers, former president of the Space Transportation Association, used to tell.

It seems that often, the pontiff, weary with the cares of the world, would have trouble getting to sleep. On these occasions, one of the best cures for his insomnia was to take a ride around the beautiful city in which he lived, in the back seat of his limousine. On one of these occasions, he realizes that he’s been missing something from his life for many years.

He taps on the window to his driver, and says, “Mario, I haven’t driven a car since I was a priest in Cracow. It would give me so much pleasure if I could do it once again.”

Mario, of course, is aghast. “Your Holiness, it would be unseemly! You are the Pope!” To which the reply was, “That’s right, Mario, I am the Pope. You are the employee of the Pope. I shall drive.”

So they switch places, Mario with reluctance and the Pope with glee, and they head off for the driving tour of his life, past the Tivoli Fountains and the Coliseum, up and down the hills. Fortunately, it’s late at night, so traffic is light, and like most Romans, he pays little attention to traffic signals or speed limits. Inevitably, the sound of a siren greets their ears from behind, and so the Pope reluctantly pulls over, fearing the headlines the next day.

The patrolman gets off his scooter, walks up to the limo, taps on the smoked-glass driver’s window, and his face turns sheet white when it rolls down to reveal who is behind the wheel. He stammers, “A thousand pardons, your Holiness. I’m so sorry to inconvenience you. But can you please wait for just one minute while I contact my superiors”? And the pope nods beatifically.

He goes back to his scooter, radios the station, and says, “Capitano, I need some advice. I’m about to give a traffic ticket to a very, very important person.”

The radio crackles back, “What’s the problem, Luigi? Who is it? How important are we talking here?”

“I don’t know, Capitano, but whoever it is, has got the Pope for a chauffeur…”

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