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National Space Council – NASA Budget Memorandum

NSC NASA Budget Memo

TO:    Donald Trump, President
CC:    Mike Pence, Vice President; Chairman, National Space Council
Scott Pace, Executive Secretary, National Space Council
Mick Mulvaney, Director, Office of Management and Budget
RE:    Scope of Human Spaceflight Program Under Alternative Budget Profiles

For your use as you prepare for the FY19 budget submission, the staff of the National Space Council has produced an analysis on the scope of the human spaceflight program under three alternative funding profiles. This evaluation will inform you of the budget’s impact on opportunities and challenges in the United States’ human spaceflight program, and corresponding policy and political considerations.



Per the FY18 Presidential Budget Request (Fig. 1), NASA’s budget is notionally projected to remain $19 billion, adjusted for inflation, through your Administration’s first term. As with recent fiscal years, Congressional appropriators are likely to marginally mark-up the total enacted budget.

The United States’ human spaceflight portfolio currently involves three active programs: the International Space Station (ISS), Commercial Crew and Cargo (C3) contracts for ISS resupply, and development of a heavy-lift rocket (Space Launch System; SLS) and a multipurpose crew capsule (Orion). The ISS is scheduled for continual use through 2024, with the possibility of extension. Current C3 contracts are expected to last through at least 2024. SLS’ first flight with Orion (Exploration Mission 1; EM-1) is scheduled for no earlier than December 2019.

By mandate in the 2010 National Space Policy and the 2017 NASA Transition Authorization Act, NASA is pursuing beyond-Earth-orbit human spaceflight. The agency’s roadmap involves cis-lunar exploration throughout the 2020s followed by missions to Martian orbit and surface in the 2030s and 2040s. NASA has proposed a cis-lunar station concept (Deep Space Gateway; DSG) for the 2020s. Per White House direction, the agency has submitted an updated exploration roadmap (“NSC Report”) to NSC staff. The DSG and NSC Report roadmap are currently unfunded and not written into statute authorizing NASA; however, they are included in this evaluation under the presumption of their approval.


As indicated in agency testimony and feedback, NASA’s current budget allows for a cadence of 1 SLS flight per year through the 2020s, beginning with EM-1 in December 2019 or early 2020 and first crewed flight (EM-2) by 2023. Starting with EM-2, each SLS flight will be co-manifested with a component of the DSG; completion of the DSG may require up to 4 SLS flights. Crew may be able to fly on-station at DSG for up to 40 days per mission. DSG will be leveraged as a “staging-point” for missions to Martian orbit and surface in the 2030s and 2040s. Development of capabilities necessary for the Mars campaign, including solar electric propulsion, deep-space habitats, and landing and surface operations technologies, will require funding through the 2020s concurrent with DSG operations. Past 2024, fiscal pressures will make continued ISS operations concurrent with cis-lunar exploration challenging. C3 resupply of the ISS will accordingly be terminated upon ISS decommissioning.

This budget level should be considered the baseline minimum for NASA to achieve its exploration mandate within current projected schedule. It does not afford NASA significant flexibility to conduct robust lunar exploration while pursuing technology development for Mars or to sustain an American presence in low-Earth-orbit following ISS decommissioning. NASA expects international and commercial partners to leverage DSG for the former and commercial industry to independently develop the latter throughout the 2020s. A marginal level of flexibility is afforded for unanticipated difficulties in capability development through the 2020s, though schedule may be affected. Critical knowledge gaps for deep-space human spaceflight will put long-term pressure on the program, as ISS’ limited availability creates significant uncertainty for research prior to conduct of operations.

If pursuing this budget level, your Administration must remain cognizant of the risk of “mission creep” and interface with agency and Congressional leaders to avoid it. As this budget offers only enough resources for NASA to meet its exploration mandate through progression in a phased development roadmap, the agency cannot afford to be diverted from that roadmap. Pursuing ancillary exploration goals, such as lunar exploration, jeopardizes budget prioritization for mid-term technology development. If your Administration wishes to pursue these goals instead, it must make that decision before development begins on Mars-relevant capabilities. Your Administration should proactively work with stakeholders to determine, in the short-term, the future of ISS and potential opportunities for commercial partnership in cis-lunar space. Doing so will allow NASA, potential international partners, and commercial stakeholders to better account for timeline pressures and accordingly prepare capabilities to supplement NASA’s roadmap needs.


The programmatic challenges encountered in an inflation-adjusted stable budget are amplified in a flat budget. It offers little buffer against cost-overruns and schedule slippage, potentially jeopardizing the opportunity for cis-lunar human flight within your first term. NASA will need to prioritize budget between operations and space technology development; this may necessitate a slower cadence of flight, which entails safety risk and flight cost increases, or require delay in the development of critical Mars technologies. To maintain currently projected schedule, NASA may need to divert funds from its scientific or planetary exploration portfolios. Otherwise, it is unlikely that a flat budget will enable human missions to Mars by the current mandate of the 2030s. In this budget scenario, pursuit of lunar exploration goals will likely necessitate cancellation or long-term postponement of the Mars campaign; if your Administration wishes to pursue lunar exploration, it will need to work with Congressional policymakers to change NASA’s statutory authorization.

With a flat budget, NASA will need to significantly expand its leverage of international and commercial sector capabilities and more deeply integrate them into its proposed mission architecture. In doing so, the agency will need to take inventory of core technological competencies and determine which core mission capabilities it is willing to take off the “critical path” of NASA-internal development. While some historical precedent suggests that international and public-private partnerships may offer NASA cost-savings, these partnerships also risk schedule slips, compromises in hardware safety and reliability, and programmatic decision-making outside of NASA’s control. Certain capabilities, particularly if procured from the commercial sector, may not be sustainably available. Your Administration must recognize these tradeoffs if this budget level is to be pursued.

NASA may leverage various options for international and commercial partnership that supplement or replace agency-developed capability. While not the preferred forcing function, this may serve to catalyze more robust partner capabilities. In lieu of a steady SLS cadence to deliver DSG components to cis-lunar space, NASA may procure launch services from one of several commercial heavy-lift rockets currently in development. Doing so may require NASA to significantly scale down the size and weight of DSG. NASA may seek international contribution of critical DSG components instead of developing them itself; however, like ISS’ arrangement, this may create schedule pressure on NASA’s roadmap and require decision-sharing that eliminates NASA’s programmatic autonomy. If your Administration wishes to pursue this budget, it should immediately begin working with State Department personnel to establish dialogue with potential international partners over DSG arrangements.


A scaled NASA budget (e.g. 4% growth a year over your first term) offers the agency considerable flexibility in pursuing exploration goals ancillary to its current roadmap and more certainty in meeting milestones on schedule. It could allow for prolonged operation of ISS, a preferable resolution to current programmatic and research uncertainties. Providing NASA discretionary funds for human spaceflight activities would likewise enable expanded opportunity for partnership with commercial providers and catalytic support for commercial development of low-Earth-orbit and lunar space. This budget scenario increases the likelihood of returning humans to lunar space within your second term, a considerable political win.

As fiscal constraints currently dictate their flight schedule, EM-1 and EM-2 could be moved up should additional budget be provided toward SLS, Orion, and ground support system development and production. In such case, EM-1 may fly before the close of your first term, and EM-2 could fly earlier than the close of your second term. A scaled budget may offer opportunity for additional flights between, or shortly following, EM-1 and EM-2, which would lower flight safety risk and cost. Work on Mars technology development may begin earlier, which could allow for an expedited schedule of deep-space flight.

With a scaled budget, NASA could potentially maintain ISS operation through the 2020s or conduct lunar exploration during the cis-lunar phase of its roadmap; or, depending on the extent of budget increase, both. If NASA opts to maintain ISS through at least 2028, it will afford researchers extra time to resolve technical and biological knowledge gaps about long-term human spaceflight critical for prolonged missions to cis-lunar space and Mars. It will likewise afford commercial industry an anchor to continue economic development of low-Earth-orbit, especially if ISS is more extensively leveraged as a platform for commercial R&D. If NASA pursues lunar exploration, additional funds may be used for scientific surface instruments and payloads, potentially deployed on commercial landers, or conduct experimental in-situ resource prospecting and utilization. Investing in the latter capability would have functional benefit for missions to the Martian surface.

With discretionary funds, NASA could solicit expanded commercial participation in its roadmap while maintaining internal control over “critical path” capabilities. Procurement of low-Earth-orbit commercial space stations for additional research, commercial lunar landers for scientific payload deliver, commercial resource extraction for on-orbit fuel production, and commercial cis-lunar cargo delivery would substantially enhance NASA’s programmatic efforts. The infusion of NASA funding would catalyze commercial capability development, potentially leading to a long-term commercial infrastructure that NASA could sustainably leverage.


The staff concludes that a significant scaling of NASA’s budget over the term(s) of your Administration is necessary for the agency to securely achieve its statutory human exploration goals. However, the staff recognizes that political and fiscal realities likely preclude the availability of additional budget. To ensure available resources are best utilized, we offer the following recommendations:

PROGRAM AND BASELINE BUDGET CONSISTENCY: NASA requires consistency of purpose and certainty of long-term funding to achieve a multi-year human spaceflight program. Budget planning for a cis-lunar and Mars campaign will occur several fiscal years ahead of employment of funds. Unanticipated changes in program or budget will accordingly hamper programmatic progress and schedule. Your Administration should take steps to ensure that proposed NASA budgets and direction remains stable and consistent throughout your term(s).

EXECUTIVE BRANCH ADVOCACY: Inconsistency between Executive Branch and Congressional space policy and budget-setting, particularly over the past two Administrations, has been a source of NASA’s mired progress. Leadership in policy direction for NASA has accordingly shifted away from the Presidency to the Legislative Branch. To ensure that your Administration’s exploration goals are met, the Executive Branch must elevate human spaceflight from parochial Congressional interest to the national policy agenda. This may be achieved through cross-government engagement on space goals and shaping public opinion, in states with both vested space interests and without, through speeches and visiting engagements

LEVERAGING PARTNER COMPETENCIES: The substantial costs and technical challenges involved in beyond-Earth-orbit human spaceflight preclude NASA from achieving ambitious goals alone. The rapid growth of international and commercial competencies and alignment of exploration interests presents good opportunity to supplement NASA’s capabilities. Engagement with commercial and international partners will meanwhile solidify the United States’ space leadership. Your Administration should proactively interact with commercial and international partners and stakeholders to identify areas of shared interest and cooperation. Policy directives should be issued to both NASA and agencies overseeing regulation of the commercial space sector that direct them to take steps fostering continued commercial development of space.

The staff encourages your Administration to continue its enthusiastic interest in and support for space exploration. NASA truly is what “makes America great.”

International Cooperation and Competition in Space

How – and Why – Should the United States Proceed?


The moment that humanity first passed beyond the Earth’s thin atmosphere, outer space became a subject of international politics; an arena characterized by the cooperative and competitive interactions that shape relations between states. The history of the “Space Age” is rife with examples of both – the race to the Moon, Apollo-Soyuz, Shuttle-Mir, and the International Space Station, along with several collaborative efforts on probes sent throughout the solar system. Likewise, space has served as a medium to directly support cooperation, competition, and strategic balancing between nations on Earth – as a means for treaty verification, to link economies, to enable warfighting and, as trends suggest, to potentially be a theater of war itself.

This fundamental facet of activity in space will remain essential well into the future, even if the dynamics of space activity are quickly evolving in the present. Far from the technological “battleground” between two competing superpowers that defined the genesis of the space age, outer space today involves numerous actors, both national and private, and will soon be shared by several more emerging space powers. Between traditional commercial operators whose services are pillars of the modern economy and new private ventures promising novel applications and markets, space is a vital sphere of economic activity. As international commons, it faces transnational challenges such as the proliferation of space debris, space weather, equitable allocation of limited spectrum, and legal uncertainties involving issues such as space property rights. Increasingly, space is, especially in the view of national security users, “congested, contested, and competitive.” Through these changing dynamics, the traditional lines between civil/government, commercial, and defense space systems and actors have become blurred; unilateral space activities are gradually being replaced by bilateral, regional, and multinational activities. This all suggests that cooperation (or, depending on perspective, competition) will be of redoubled significance as humanity pursues its space objectives through the coming century.

Since its beginning, the United States’ space policy has balanced cooperative and competitive strategies which span the civil, commercial, and national security sectors. Fostering cooperation in space with international partners is described as an underlying objective of the country’s space endeavors. The 2010 National Space Policy, which today remains the guiding Executive-level statement of the United States’ space policy, notes that,

“From the outset of humanity’s ascent into space, this Nation declared its commitment to enhance the welfare of humankind by cooperating with others to maintain the freedom of space. The United States hereby renews its pledge of cooperation in the belief that with strengthened international collaboration and reinvigorated U.S. leadership, all nations and peoples space-faring and space-benefiting—will find their horizons broadened, their knowledge enhanced, and their lives greatly improved.”[1]

Of course, the same document also enshrines principles of space competition, if it be needed, by acknowledging that,

“The United States will employ a variety of measures to help assure the use of space for all responsible parties, and, consistent with the inherent right of self-defense, deter others from interference and attack, defend our space systems and contribute to the defense of allied space systems, and, if deterrence fails, defeat efforts to attack them.”[2]

The 2010 National Space Policy lays out specific directives to national departments and agencies which offer avenues for international cooperation. These include, in addition to other guidelines: promoting cost- and risk-sharing in international partnerships; enhancing the security and stability of behavior in space; reassuring allies of the U.S. commitment to collective self-defense; strengthening partnerships in space surveillance and situational awareness; leading the development and adoption of international standards to minimize space debris; and participating in multilateral transparency and confidence-building measures for the peaceful use of space.

This constitutes a rather comprehensive list of opportunities for cooperation, even if the United States has not pursued their implementation in totality. As the political apparatus which develops and executes the United States’ space policy undergoes transition – with an incoming NASA Administrator, a newly stood-up National Space Council, and talk of a pivot back to the Moon coming from the Executive Office – a reevaluation of these the strategic value of space cooperation and of these opportunities is appropriate (and, indeed, likely already underway). In the coming years, what balance between cooperative and competitive approaches ought to be sought and how should that balance be managed? What domestic and international strategies are likely to be the most effective for achieving the objective of enhancing “the welfare of humankind by cooperating with others?” How should the United States leverage partnerships in space to best preserve and enhance its space leadership?

Why Do We Cooperate (and Compete) in Space?

These are significant – and challenging – questions. To begin to address them, a review of the purpose of international space cooperation and competition is needed. As a seminal topic of spaceflight, there’s been no shortage of discussion regarding why nations cooperate and compete in space. A broad body of literature, drawing from diverse theories of international relations and grand strategy, seeks to describe the various motivations and aims that drive nations and other actors to collaborate, and occasionally contend, with each other in space.

The field is too wide for this piece to describe in full, but several important recurring points can inform its analysis. Foremost is that, in the words of Scott Pace, current Executive Secretary of the National Space Council, “international space cooperation is not an end in itself, but a means of advancing national interests.”[3] Or, as Kenneth Pedersen, former Director of International Affairs at NASA, once observed, “international space cooperation is not a charitable enterprise; countries cooperate because they judge it in their interest to do so.”[4] Countries (and other actors such as companies) are inherently self-interested; their activity in and use of space serves a distinct goal – be it political, economic, scientific, or for national security – that brings them benefit, international competitive advantage, and justifies the costs and complexities involved in a space program. This assumption should underlie all consideration of and decisions about potential partnerships and opportunities for cooperation; indeed, NASA policy on initiating international cooperation requires it, stating,

“Each cooperative activity must demonstrate a specific benefit to NASA or the United States. Such benefit may be in the form of data, services, or contribution to flight mission or operational infrastructure systems, or it may directly support broader U.S. policy or interests.”[5]

Even if space cooperation is pursued out of self-interest, the benefits that come from it are numerous and occasionally more appealing than those from unilateral action. First is that of cost and funding. Spaceflight is expensive; for many countries, the financial burden of an active space program is simply too much for them to pursue alone. Cost savings through cooperation takes various forms – through “programmatic enhancement,” in which a country provides hardware to fly and operate on another’s craft, or “programmatic interdependence,” in which countries provide mission- and architecture-critical hardware for a shared project, actors can offer their core technological competencies without footing the bill for capabilities they don’t indigenously possess. Cooperation may also be pursued through bilateral or multilateral data sharing and, of course, scientist-to-scientist collaboration and research. Considering the complexities of the 21st century’s probable space projects – such as human expeditions to the Moon or Mars – and the scope of addressing sizable challenges such as space debris through remediation or removal, spreading the burden of cost across multiple actors will likely be a necessity.

Next is that of programmatic stability and political consistency. Incorporating foreign partners into a space project provides it a level of political commitment that buffers from cancellation, to the extent that domestic political leadership is unwilling to break international agreements. So long as the costs to diplomatic prestige and reputation that come with breaking or withdrawing from an agreement are greater than the costs and utility of that agreement, leaders will be hesitant to pursue an international program’s outright termination. Moreover, the financial cost-savings described above can serve to make audacious yet costly projects more appealing to political leaders, who must balance space funding with other budgetary priorities.

Perhaps the most frequently cited benefit of space cooperation is the diplomatic cachet and control that it can provide; space partnership is a valuable “soft power” tool. Participation in a multilateral space project increases the diplomatic influence of participating states upon each other. As such, countries use space cooperation to support their terrestrial diplomatic and geopolitical policies and aims. For example, the decision to involve Russia in the International Space Station was motivated considerably by both the United States’ desire to limit a diaspora of Russian rocket scientists following the collapse of the Soviet Union and to strengthen relations with the “new” Russia. This example, though, highlights the variable utility of space cooperation for diplomatic purposes; more utility is derived from partnering with a specific country depending on the context and importance of the partnering states’ relations in world politics. In the political environment that followed the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russo-American cooperation in space was of greater immediate value than, as an example, pursuing Sino-American cooperation instead. To that end, the diplomatic benefit of space cooperation shifts and evolves with developments in world affairs.

It need be remembered that while space cooperation may serve as diplomatic signaling and as “grease on the wheels” for a country seeking to achieve its foreign policy aims, it is more often an effect of developments in international relations than a direct cause. While the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project was a marker and symbol of détente between the United States and Soviet Union, for example, it was not the catalyst nor the primary driver. Likewise, American cooperation with – and indeed current reliance on, for crew transportation – Russia in the International Space Station did not prevent nor has stymied the reemergence and growth of tensions between the two countries. Nonetheless, when coupled with an active diplomatic strategy on Earth, space cooperation can serve to strengthen a country’s foreign policy pursuits. And, by process of establishing diplomatic channels and acclimating leaders to partners’ decision-making processes, institutional cultures, and standard operating procedures, it enables future cooperation between countries in space and on Earth – and, critically, builds trust.

Related to the diplomatic benefit of space cooperation, and arguably of more long-term utility, is cooperation to support norm- and international regime-building. Norms are mutually accepted standards of proper or acceptable behavior which establish expectations and clarify misbehaviors; defining and defending norms helps to isolate, sanction, and limit bad behavior. This is particularly important in an environment such as space, where one actor’s misbehavior (through, for example, creating space debris) can have devastating consequences for the entire international community. While states are self-interested, maintaining an international regime that empowers them to pursue those interests – while disempowering those whose actions threaten the environment’s long-term stability and sustainability – is a compelling and important goal. As such, countries seek space partnerships and agreements with others who share at least vaguely similar values and principles to entrench them into widely accepted and lasting norms.

Cooperation in norm-setting is pursued through several methods: codification of principles in formal treaties and other legal instruments; voluntary international codes of conduct; and transparency and confidence-building measures (TCBMs). Likewise, the establishment of international regulatory regimes and entities enable the creation and oversight of rules that govern conduct of certain space activities and allow for fair competition and equitable access to space-derived benefits – such as spectrum allocation. States may also precondition partnership in a project or program on their potential partner’s buy-in on and adherence to certain norms.

And what of competition? Since the close of the Cold War, international space competition has shifted away from a superpower “race” to achieve notable “firsts” with civil space programs (though similar dynamics may still be seen among some emerging space powers, especially in the sphere of solar system exploration) to competition in the national security and commercial applications of space.

Over the recent decades, space has become an essential setting for military power projection – used for precision targeting, command and control, intelligence gathering, and maneuverability of weapons systems. For advanced militaries, national security space assets are integral to their warfighting capabilities and doctrines. For their potential adversaries, this reliance is increasingly viewed as a vulnerability that can be exploited through the development of counter-space capabilities, which include anti-satellite weapons, jammers, and hostile proximity-and-rendezvous space systems. Military competition in space will likely continue and evolve as countries cyclically develop the means to disable or destroy each other’s critical satellites and systems to defend or deter against such attacks.

Competition is inherent in the commercial sphere; commercial operators compete against each other and against foreign actors for customers and contracts. This is especially evident in the present day in the satellite communications, Earth imaging, and launch sectors. To support their domestic space industry, countries “compete” by establishing favorable regulatory environments, export control regimes, and/or subsidies that are conducive to commercial growth and overseas sales. They may also seek to involve the commercial sector in national projects and programs, occasionally at the expense of potential contributions that could have come from international partners. As the global commercial space sector blossoms, this competition – both on the part of the private operators and of their government regulators and sponsors – is bound to increase.

Notably, competition may also come through competing for partners. Countries with limited budgets need to make decisions regarding which programs they will get involved in and, as a corollary, the countries with which they will collaborate. For states seeking partners in an international project, offering attractive programmatic incentives or partnership schemes is a method to convince countries to join in lieu of other opportunities they could pursue. This may be most evident today in China’s aggressive push for partners in its upcoming modular space station.

The Limits – and Drawbacks – to Cooperation

Of course, space cooperation is not without its limitations or drawbacks, some of which are significant; these too are valuable considerations for the future of the United States’ space policy vis-à-vis the international community.

First, space cooperation is often limited to scientific and exploratory endeavors whose primary purpose are not distinctly political, military, or economic. Again, states are self-interested; while there is utility in cooperating on scientific projects that increase knowledge about the cosmos, these projects do not provide the same direct competitive advantage that gains in political influence, economic power, or national security strength do. States are understandably hesitant to pursue projects that would bolster others’ competencies in these fields, possibly at the detriment of their own relative strength. Moreover, as partnership on a project often entails transfer of technology or knowledge, states are reluctant to “give away” sensitive military or economic information and capabilities. Of course, there are caveats – in the case of military partners and allies, for example, cooperation on military capabilities in space is a way to strengthen mutual defense and further deter attacks on national security space systems.

Next, international cooperation on a space project creates programmatic dependence on all partners, requiring each to deliver what they promised on time and within agreed parameters. This creates increased complexities and occasionally heightened costs for all partners in the program – if, for example, one nation fails to deliver in time, the others must bear the cost of the schedule slippage. This presents the issue of a program’s “critical path” – who is responsible for the program’s core systems and architecture? Keeping critical systems development within the purview of one nation, while others pursue supporting or ancillary systems and equipment, presents several benefits: reducing coordination costs and eliminating potential delays from partners’ funding, technical, or policy complications. Yet at the same time, this increases costs for the country pursuing the critical path. Likewise, it may signal a lack of trust or confidence in the capabilities of a project’s partners.

Space cooperation may also create increased complexities as first-time partners try to learn and navigate the other’s political systems, cultures, and decision-making processes pertaining to space. While this increases the prospect of long-term, multi-project cooperation and is valuable for opening continuing dialogue and mutual understanding, it nonetheless can present programmatic and operational challenges for the joint mission they’re trying to achieve.

Finally, and of growing importance with the proliferation of commercial space operators, countries pursuing cooperation with foreign governments risk reducing opportunities for partnership with their own domestic space industry. As commercial space technologies and services mature, an overlap in capability is emerging among the most advanced commercial space operators and civil space programs. If both domestic industry and foreign governments can offer a similar service or competency to a mission, determining whether to pursue a partnership or a commercial contract becomes a challenging task. Ultimately, that decision is informed by the perceived utility of each; depending on a nation’s strategic goals and policies, the benefits of an international partnership may or may not be of more value than the benefits of contracting a needed service or technology out to its domestic space industry. Nonetheless, depending on the decision, potential partners (or commercial service providers) may feel slighted – or compelled to turn elsewhere. Striking an appropriate balance will present a difficult challenge for policymakers in the coming years, especially for those in countries with robust commercial space constituencies.

Implications for United States Policy

Having examined the utility and limitations of space cooperation and competition, we can return to and better address the initial question: what balance of cooperative and competitive approaches ought the United States seek in space and how should that balance be managed? The answer to this will necessarily be informed by the country’s policy priorities and objectives for outer space. Through a reading of the 2010 National Space Policy, the 2011 National Security Space Strategy, and current authorization legislation such as the Commercial Space Launch Competitiveness Act of 2015 and NASA Transition Authorization Act of 2017, five overarching policy goals are apparent: establish and reinforce norms of best behavior for outer space; preserve the space environment; enhance and protect national security space assets; support the domestic capabilities and international competitiveness of the commercial space sector; and pursue scientific investigation of the Earth and solar system along with beyond-Earth-orbit human exploration.

The prospect for international cooperation intersects with these goals in complex and overlapping ways. Cooperation toward one may bolster – or, conversely, undermine – progress toward another; hence the need to strike an appropriate balance. This is perhaps most apparent in the interplay between pursuing beyond-Earth-orbit exploration and fostering commercial space capabilities, to which we turn first. Looking at historical and projected trends, NASA’s budgetary limitations suggest that a unilateral return to the Moon and journey to Mars is highly unlikely. Partnership of some form seems apparent as the most practical course of action. While a cis-lunar “proving ground” period of human spaceflight has been a component of the United States’ exploration roadmap since the Obama years, the Trump Administration’s suggestion of a pivot back to the Moon – and NASA’s recent proposal of the “Deep Space Gateway” (DSG) cis-lunar station – has ignited a recent flurry of commercial and international interest in collaboration with NASA to support that objective.

Russia has proposed a Lunar Mission Support Module that would attach to the DSG, giving the outpost extra life-support, berthing, and storage capabilities. The European Space Agency has plans for its own habitat and logistics module to attach to the DSG, which it hopes to service with a European cargo spacecraft. Canada has proposed both a robotic arm, like that used on the International Space Station, and a solar sail demonstrator to fly on or near DSG. Japan hopes to leverage the DSG to conduct human landings on the Moon in the 2030s. Meanwhile, SpaceX and Blue Origin hope for commercial cargo contracts to the DSG, a host of companies touting lunar landing capabilities – including Blue Origin, Astrobotic, and Masten – seek to support the DSG with on-surface operations, and several firms are working on the NASA NextSTEP solicitation to provide, through private-public partnership, a DSG habitat and power module.

Of course, though NASA has the mandate to pursue beyond-Earth-orbit exploration, the Deep Space Gateway is still nothing more than a concept; as the maxim goes, budgets are policy – and the DSG is currently unfunded (even if NASA is deep in talks with industry and international partners about it). Still, it provides a conceptual launching point to consider the arrangements that cooperation can be pursued for the human exploration program.

First is the question of the critical path. By involving international contribution as core elements of the DSG – or whatever project ultimately gets funded – the United States could reap considerable cost-savings by prioritizing development in its core competencies. International partners are discussing providing critical capabilities such as habitation, power, life-support which, if pursued, would allow NASA focus on furnishing a core module along with launch and astronaut delivery. This type of deep integration would surely necessitate complex, long-term agreements and programmatic decision-sharing with partners. Considering the United States’ lack of political consistency on long-term, ambitious space projects over the past few decades, this may bring much needed political stability and buy-in for executing beyond-Earth-orbit exploration.

This sort of integration would, in effect, establish an arrangement akin to the International Space Station. This is an important consideration, as it would affect future programmatic decisions. At the point when the United States is ready to proceed with its mission to Mars, would its partners be ready to step away from the DSG? NASA has proposed that the DSG be capable of moving orbits to support exploration goals; consulting with partners and securing their approval for each maneuver would likely be a complex, time-consuming process. The challenges of the International Space Station, seen especially in the continuing struggle to decide on its future and fate, foreshadow the difficult questions that may come with partnership on the DSG. And what of the risk of schedule slippage? The European Space Agency’s continuing issues with producing and providing the Orion spacecraft’s service module is an omen of potential slips that could occur by relying on international partners to provide necessary components to the DSG. For a project with already high costs (and a need to maintain consistent launch cadence with the Space Launch System to keep its launch costs down), any slippage could threaten to derail NASA’s exploration timeline.

Finally, would this arrangement present opportunity for the United States’ commercial industry to offer core contributions? Drawing on the example of the International Space Station, it seems so: NASA could enter into contracts for cargo and astronaut delivery or, in the example of Bigelow’s BEAM, extra habitation space. However, if commercial is to play a supporting – rather than critical – function for the DSG, would the demand for its support be robust enough to involve several commercial partners and foster strong development in the industry? Perhaps, or perhaps not. This will depend on the level of reliance upon international contribution to the station and the level of funding NASA is willing – and able – to allocate to commercial services. Surely, though, many in the industry will feel snubbed if NASA decides to utilize the European or Russian modules for extra storage space or the European cargo spacecraft for its cargo deliveries in lieu of American companies with the same capabilities, even if it is cheaper to do so. For NASA’s leaders, finding the appropriate arrangement that maximizes cost-savings, leverages international capabilities, while still leaving opportunity for commercial involvement will be a delicate and difficult balancing act.

With that addressed, we turn to two areas where space competition should and likely will remain strategically important: the commercial and national security space sectors.

Let’s first address the commercial. To increase the competitiveness of its space industry against foreign companies and service providers, the United States’ government can pursue domestic several strategies that lower the barriers and costs to doing business. These include reform and easing of export control regulations, such as ITAR, to allow companies to sell high-technologies, currently deemed “sensitive,” to foreigners and to offer services such as launch from abroad. Likewise, regulatory and licensing processes can be simplified and streamlined, particularly for remote sensing activities and launch. Both have long been sought by the United States’ commercial space industry and, gradually, both are making progress – especially with the American Space Commerce Free Enterprise Act, which broadly overhauls commercial space licensing and authorities, currently working its way through Congress. The government can also consider offering incentives, be it in the form of tax credits, direct investment, or a more permissive regulatory environment, to entice space companies to do business in and from the United States. This strategy has seen success abroad, especially in Luxembourg, the United Arab Emirates, and Saudi Arabia, and to a degree in China, which offers bundled and subsidized satellite construction/launch services – all representative of the growing international competition for leadership in commercial space.

Of course, business anywhere requires a predictable legal environment and a relatively secure physical environment – especially so for business in space, where costs of entry and failure are high. Uncertainties such as questions over the legality of space property rights and the issues of space traffic management, space debris, and space weather pose challenges for the global commercial space sector (not to mention civil and national security space programs). Is it in the United States’ interest to pursue international cooperation as a solution to these issues? Keeping in mind the value of norm and regime-building, cooperation would seem to allow for a stable environment in which its commercial space sector could more securely operate. Yet doing so would also enable opportunities for foreign commercial space ventures to more readily compete. Still, considering that maintaining a secure space environment is a policy goal for the United States, it is evident that international cooperation on these problems is indeed the best strategy for American policymakers.

How, then, might cooperation be pursued for these issues? First, regarding the legality of space property rights: through recognizing, in the 2015 Commercial Space Launch Competitiveness Act, the right for American citizens to own material mined in space, the United States has set in motion a precedent for space property rights – one with which many in the international community disagree. Legitimate questions exist about mining in the context of the non-appropriation provision of the Outer Space Treaty, though the United States has long maintained that the two are mutually compatible. And other countries, particularly Luxembourg, have begun to establish their own legal frameworks enabling space mining and private space property rights. To that end: the United States can pursue (and has) high-level multilateral dialogue on issues pertaining to space mining and its legality; these could include memorandums of understanding with countries about non-interference in mining activities and environmental protections. And, by simply allowing such operations to go forth while regulating and supervising them in a responsible manner, the United States could begin to establish norms of best practice. Ultimately, the legality of space property rights may require a new international treaty – though pursuing this option, at least in the short- to mid-term, is a non-starter.

With space situational awareness, the United States has made – and should continue to seek – good progress establishing data-sharing agreements with partners to enhance the tracking of objects in space. Considering that the United States Air Force already provides tracking information and warnings to operators across the world, continuing cooperation to integrate global monitoring systems and data more deeply into trajectory calculations is an obvious course of action. Yet the discussion of space situational awareness often evolves into one of space traffic management – a far more complicated arrangement. Consideration of this may be premature, as the United States has not yet established an authority to manage space traffic (though proposals have been floated of giving it to the FAA’s Office of Commercial Space Transportation), though early thoughts are warranted nonetheless.

To be truly effective, a space traffic management system must have global reach and be capable of compelling operators to maneuver if needed – akin to air traffic control. Should the United States content itself with allowing countries to pursue their own space traffic management systems and be responsible only for the operators within their jurisdiction? If so, working to establish an international coordinating body that normalizes countries’ space traffic management regimes – perhaps analogous to ICAO – could be an approach toward an effective system. Yet in that approach, or in standing up an international regulatory body with powers of compulsion, the United States risks both its own national security and economic competitiveness. Should the United States be compelled to move a surveillance satellite, for example, or an American company to move their communications satellite because an international organization tells them to? Doing so would represent cooperation in managing space traffic, yet is a clear example of the potential drawbacks of such cooperation. These are questions for future years – which will be informed by the organizations, processes, and procedures that will evolve to execute the role – yet the impending difficulty policymakers will have striking a balance between cooperation and competition on space traffic is clear to see.

There is then the issue of space debris, where striking a future balance between cooperation and competition will likewise be complex. Through international forums such as the Inter-Agency Space Debris Coordinating Committee, the United States has done well promulgating its orbital debris mitigation standards internationally; same too with gradual work on the UN Guidelines on the Long-term Sustainability of Outer Space. However, with satellite mega-constellations soon to fly and a considerable number of defunct satellites stuck in long-duration orbits, many anticipate debris removal and remediation being an eventual necessity to deal with the space debris issue.

The 2010 National Space Policy directs NASA to begin development of active debris removal (ADR) technologies, though, as Brian Weeden of the Secure World Foundation points out,

“Minimal progress has been made on developing ADR technology. The initial interest shown by the DOD has waned, and NASA has decided it will not pursue R&D of ADR technologies beyond some very limited low-level efforts… [i]t is believed that the main reason for this limitation was an unwillingness by NASA to take on a potentially costly major new initiative without additional funding from Congress.”[6]

Significant legal and economic, not to mention funding, challenges confront the feasibility of active debris removal. Because space objects – including debris – are permanently within the jurisdiction of the state to which they’re registered, government permission will be required to interact with and remove any space object and governments will be legally liable for any damages that occur because of ADR activities. To that end, it would seem reasonable for the United States to pursue dialogue with other states about establishing transfer-of-ownership agreements and conventions on the liability of debris removal, establishing a normative or legal regime for space debris removal. This could come done in several ways: through MOUs and high-level discussions, or through a cooperative civil mission with other states.

A cooperative civil mission between governments would come with several of the benefits identified in space cooperation – driving down costs and risk for technology development and execution on the part of each partner (which, as Weeden noted, are currently a prohibitive factor) and establishing norms and expectations of debris removal practices by fiat. However, several companies have interest in – and identified prospective competitive business cases for – active space debris removal. Meanwhile, the technologies used for debris removal are inherently “dual-use,” in that they can be used to deorbit functional satellites just as well as debris. Whether the United States can justify this potential risk to its space security will be informed by the level of trust and military cooperation it holds in the potential partners with which it could collaborate. Ultimately, the decision on whether the United States should actively pursue an international program or simply strive to establish enabling norms for debris removal will come down to how policymakers weigh the merits and utility of a government-to-government partnership against national security considerations and turning over the potentially profitable activities to its commercial sector.

Finally, we turn to cooperation and competition in the use of space for national security. Space will continue to be used to more closely support warfighting operations on Earth, and it intuitively makes sense for the United States to pursue cooperation and integration with its military partners to increase mutual capabilities. The real question for cooperation is whether direct competition in space (i.e. it becoming weaponized and a theater of war, not for war) can, through TCBMs or other agreements, be prevented.

This is a topic in and of itself, yet some high-level observations can be made. Foremost is that any agreement must preserve the United States’ national security interests and capability to protect its space assets – including, if needed, through retaliation. This is, of course, spelled out in the 2010 National Space Policy. To that end – any agreements, be them through international forums such as the United Nations Conference on Disarmament or on a state-to-state basis, need to be transparent, verifiable, enforceable, and genuinely allow for protection of space assets from destructive attack. Current proposals toward that end, such as the Chinese/Russian proposal to ban anti-satellite weapons is, are lacking in enforceability and verifiability – as frequently noted by American national security leaders. So long as other countries have counter-space capabilities beyond kinetic hit-to-kill vehicles, the United States cannot afford to tie its hand in protecting its space assets. That said, some approaches may work; for example, the United States could pursue agreements on preventing use of weapons, be them kinetic or not, that would create undue amounts of space debris during an attack. A cooperative agreement of this sort would still allow for some level of protective retaliation in the event of an attack, while having the added benefit of protecting the space environment should conflict erupt in space.

In the meantime, the United States can continue to consider or pursue scientific or exploratory cooperation with potential adversaries in space in order to build mutual trust, reinforce norms of good behavior, and open channels for space dialogue and understanding – which may mitigate the possibility of unintended miscalculations and military escalation in the space domain should a crisis on Earth break out.

 On Cooperation with China

This leads into oft-debated subject in the field of space cooperation – that of potential partnerships between the United States and China. At present, NASA is forbidden by law from cooperating with the Chinese in space; any potential partnership in the future would first require a change in that statute. Is the utility of space cooperation with China, compared to the drawbacks, strong enough to warrant that?

First, a look the drawbacks: the most frequently cited is the national security risk that cooperation with the Chinese could entail. It stands to reason that, as international partnerships in space involve the exposure and sharing of U.S. technology and information, China would acquire and benefit from American technology. As space technology often carries “dual-use” benefit, cooperating with the Chinese risks sacrificing the United States’ technological advantage and thereby compromises its national security – an important consideration, given that China, to many in the national security field, represents the United States’ greatest space threat. Next, does China have anything to offer to a project that would equitably match and benefit the United States’ contribution? For more sophisticated projects such as human spaceflight, there is a presumption that the United States’ competencies are far greater than China’s; as such, the United States would likely contribute more money or greater capabilities to a project. If this is the case, the relative benefits of cooperating are much greater for China than for the United States. Unless there is substantial diplomatic utility to the project, cooperation on most high-profile projects wouldn’t seem to advance the United States’ competitive advantage in space and therefore isn’t reasonable.

What of the diplomatic utility, though? As noted, working with the Chinese in Space would present the United States with an opportunity to learn their standard operating procedures and decision-making processes. This would be valuable toward limiting misunderstanding or miscalculation among American policymakers, as it would allow them to more accurately determine and decipher China’s intended use of dual-use space technologies. Space cooperation between the two countries would also signal – and, over time, establish – growing trust and confidence between them. During a time of tension on Earth, coming from a perspective of presumed good intention would better mitigate miscalculation or escalation in space than the current status-quo.

To that end: a cooperative venture with China need not be expensive or high-profile; joint efforts of scientific value, such as monitoring climate change or space weather, could benefit both countries both diplomatically and in the pursuit of the goal of a secure space environment. These could come in the form of programmatic cooperation, such as flying instruments on each other’s satellites, or in the sharing of already collected data. With both countries interested in lunar activity, sharing data about lunar conditions and lunar surface composition could help create meaningful patterns of interaction that lower barriers to information exchange – and which may pave the way to further cooperation.

Of course, engagement will need to be strongly conditioned on transparency, limited in expectations, and involve consultation with the United States’ current allies. Ultimately, as Listner and Johnson-Freese point out, “[w]hether outer space cooperation with China will… become a reality will be a political decision, and that decision must be made by considering both the globalist and geopolitical viewpoint when weighing the pros and cons.”[7]

Concluding Suggestions

This piece has provided a high-level review and assessment of the utility and drawbacks of space cooperation and competition, along with their general implications for the United States’ broad space policy. While specific decisions on whether to pursue partnerships in space, and on what programs and issue areas, will be made on a case-by-case basis weighing utility versus drawbacks, several general conclusions about space cooperation and competition can be drawn:

  • At its best, programmatic space cooperation provides each partner with capabilities they themselves do not have, minimizes their individual cost burdens, and equitably advances their policy goals. Depending on the partnership’s arrangement, however, countries may become beholden to – and responsible for – others’ struggles with schedule or cost.
  • Space cooperation pursued for diplomatic purposes should support foreign policy objectives. While cooperation in space may not drive relations on Earth, it is a valuable tool for establishing channels of dialogue and building mutual understanding.
  • Cooperation, especially in the form of TCBMs, multilateral agreements, and norm-building, can be used to support benign competition (such as enabling opportunities for commercial activity) and temper malignant competition (such as in-space use of hostile force).
  • As the commercial sector becomes more vibrant, policymakers will need to weigh the utility of cooperation with the international community against the utility of cooperation with the private sector. Both offer different – occasionally disparate – benefits; depending on the policy objectives of a program, the utility of one will outweigh the utility of another.

To close, the author, drawing from this assessment, would like to provide a short- to mid-term programmatic proposal – pursuing, in conjunction with the Deep Space Gateway, the “Moon Village” concept laid out by the European Space Agency. The Moon Village is envisioned as an open collaborative effort on a lunar base which could support a mix of civil and commercial research, tourism, and economic activity such as mining and be a springing board for deeper human exploration of the solar system.

European contributions to the DSG could be solicited as supporting the Moon Village (through capabilities such as tele-robotics terminals, human-rated lunar landers, or modules to store supplies for the lunar surface), while NASA focuses on the “critical path” – developing DSG’s primary habitation and power modules and furnishing launch. Commercial operators could be given the role of resupplying the DSG, with partners developing redundant capability for their own use if needed. In leveraging the “gateway” aspect of DSG, the station could be used as a platform to travel to and from the Moon. At the Moon Village, commercial operators could perform a host of functions to support research goals, such as landing instruments and running experiments for the space agencies, while also carrying out their own activities such as lunar mining. If in-situ resource extraction becomes practical, over time the Moon Village could be used to produce fuel and a fuel depot to store it could be attached to the DSG. As the Moon Village is envisioned as openly collaborative, China, which has lunar interests of its own, could be invited to participate, carrying out its own research and activities while making use of – and contributing to – the Moon Village’s supporting infrastructure.

The arrangement of this proposal seeks to maximize the value of international cooperation, minimize its drawbacks, and balance between all potential partners. By having NASA focus on the DSG’s critical path, it minimizes the risk of schedule slippage on the actual hardware; European contributions would be ancillary to core DSG functions. However, as the Moon Village would be deeply integrated into the cis-lunar program, European contributions would still be critical to the overall endeavor. The Moon Village, meanwhile, would present robust opportunity for commercial activity. By having commercial operators conduct lunar mining there, in addition to supporting government needs, normative buy-in could be secured on the principles of space mining and resource extracting. Moreover, if it becomes a facility for in-space fuel production and a facility to practice and experiment with long term on-surface operations, it would be a lasting launching point for eventual missions to Mars. And finally, by providing opportunity for constructive Chinese participation, meaningful channels of dialogue could be established along with mutual confidence-building in the responsible use of the lunar surface.

Whether an arrangement akin to this will be considered or pursued remains to be seen. Yet what is certain is that cooperation – and competition – will continue to define the activities of states in outer space for years to come. Policymakers will need to be smart in the challenging tasks of balancing between potential partners, in maximizing the utility of partnerships, and in pursuing the projects that best advance their national interest – but ultimately, doing so will be far preferable than going it in space alone.


Anatoly Zak, “NASA, international partners consider solar sail for Deep Space Gateway,” Planetary Society, September 25, 2017. http://www.planetary.org/blogs/guest-blogs/2017/20170925-solar-sail-dsg.html

Brian Weeden, “US space policy, organizational incentives, and orbital debris removal,” The Space Review, October 30, 2017. http://www.thespacereview.com/article/3361/1

Christopher Johnson, “Policy and Law Aspects of International Cooperation in Space,” American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics, 2001. https://swfound.org/media/169354/policy_law_aspects_international_cooperation_space.pdf

D.A Broniatowski, G. Ryan Faith, & Vincent G. Sabathier, “The Case for Managed International Cooperation in Space Exploration,” Center for Strategic and International Studies, 2006. https://csis-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/s3fs-public/legacy_files/files/media/csis/pubs/060918_managed_international_cooperation.pdf

Dennis Chang, “U.S.-China Space Cooperation: More Costs Than Benefits,” The Heritage Foundation, October 30, 2009. http://www.heritage.org/space-policy/report/us-china-space-cooperation-more-costs-benefits

Dennis Chang, “Prospects for U.S.-China Space Cooperation,” The Heritage Foundation, April 9, 2014. http://www.heritage.org/testimony/prospects-us-china-space-cooperation

Eligar Sadeh, James P. Lester & Willy Sadeh, “Modeling International Cooperation for Space Exploration,” Space Policy 3 (1996), pgs. 207 – 223.

“Fact Sheet: National Security Space Strategy,” 2011. http://archive.defense.gov/home/features/2011/0111_nsss/docs/2011_01_19_NSSS_Fact_Sheet_FINAL.pdf

Frank A. Rose, “Using Diplomacy to Advance the Long-Term Sustainability and Security of the Outer Space Environment,” March 3 2016. https://geneva.usmission.gov/2016/03/07/using-diplomacy-to-advance-the-long-term-sustainability-and-security-of-the-outer-space-environment/

James Clay Moltz, “Preventing Conflict in Space: Cooperative Engagement As a Possible U.S. Strategy,” Astropolitics 2 (2006), pgs. 121 – 129.

Jeff Foust, “Japan has plans to land astronauts on the moon by 2030 -with a little help from the United States,” SpaceNews, June 29, 2017. http://spacenews.com/mda-establishes-company-to-commercialize-satellite-servicing-technology/

Jeff Foust, “The Role of International Cooperation in China’s Space Station Plans,” SpaceNews, October 14 2014. http://spacenews.com/42183sn-blog-the-role-of-international-cooperation-in-chinas-space-station-plans/

Jesper Poulssen, “Rivals and Cooperation in Outer Space,” Leiden University, September 2016. https://openaccess.leidenuniv.nl/bitstream/handle/1887/43365/Rivals%20and%20Cooperation%20in%20Outer%20Space.pdf?sequence=1

Kenneth S Pedersen, “International Cooperation and Competition in Space: A Current Perspective”, 11 J. Space Law 21 (1983).

Leonard David, “Europe Aiming for International ‘Moon Village’,” Space.com, April 26 2016. https://www.space.com/32695-moon-colony-european-space-agency.html

Michael Listner & Joan Johnson-Freese, “Two Perspectives on U.S.-China Space Cooperation,” SpaceNews. July 14, 2014. http://spacenews.com/41256two-perspectives-on-us-china-space-cooperation/

NASA Policy Directive 1360.2B, “Initiation and Development of International Cooperation in Space and Aeronautics Programs,” August 2014. https://nodis3.gsfc.nasa.gov/displayDir.cfm?t=NPD&c=1360&s=2B

“National Space Policy of the United States of America,” June 28 2010. https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/sites/default/files/national_space_policy_6-28-10.pdf

Robert Pfaltzgraff, “International Relations Theory and Spacepower,” National Defense University, May 2013. https://www.ethz.ch/content/specialinterest/gess/cis/center-for-securities-studies/en/services/digital-library/articles/article.html/163232

“Russia proposes Lunar Mission Support Module for Deep Space Gateway,” Russian Space Web, November 2017. http://www.russianspaceweb.com/imp-lmsm.html

Scott Pace, “Align U.S. Space Policy with National Interests,” SpaceNews, March 2015. http://spacenews.com/op-ed-align-u-s-space-policy-with-national-interests/

Stephen Krasner, eds. International Regimes (Ithaca, 1983).

Stephen Whiting, “Space and Diplomacy: A New Tool for Leverage,” Astropolitics 1 (2003), pgs. 54 – 77.

Tereza Pultarova, “European space officials outline desired contribution to Deep Space Gateway,” SpaceNews, October 26, 2017. http://spacenews.com/european-space-officials-outline-desired-contribution-to-deep-space-gateway/

Works Cited

[1] “National Space Policy of the United States of America,” June 28 2010. https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/sites/default/files/national_space_policy_6-28-10.pdf, pg. 2.

[2] Ibid, pg. 3.

[3] Scott Pace, “Align U.S. Space Policy with National Interests,” SpaceNews, March 2015. http://spacenews.com/op-ed-align-u-s-space-policy-with-national-interests/

[4] Kenneth S Pedersen, “International Cooperation and Competition in Space: A Current Perspective”, 11 J. Space Law 21 (1983).

[5] NASA Policy Directive 1360.2B, “Initiation and Development of International Cooperation in Space and Aeronautics Programs,” August 2014. https://nodis3.gsfc.nasa.gov/displayDir.cfm?t=NPD&c=1360&s=2B

[6] Brian Weeden, “US space policy, organizational incentives, and orbital debris removal,” The Space Review, October 30, 2017. http://www.thespacereview.com/article/3361/1

[7] Michael Listner & Joan Johnson-Freese, “Two Perspectives on U.S.-China Space Cooperation,” SpaceNews. July 14, 2014. http://spacenews.com/41256two-perspectives-on-us-china-space-cooperation/

Why Should We Go? Reevaluating the Rationales for Human Spaceflight in the 21st Century

In the 56 years since Yuri Gagarin became the first human to cross the Kármán line and slip into outer space, over 530 others have done the same. Between the present-day plans of Russia, China, NASA, and several private companies, along with the longer-term aspirations of others, human spaceflight appears poised to continue into the foreseeable future. Yet as the quinquagenary of the first human Moon landing quickly approaches, an important question remains without a definitive answer: why?

For many – if not most – who study, work on, or follow human spaceflight, the prevailing reason for its continuation intuitively exists beyond practical or material motivations: simply because space, to quote President Kennedy’s famous speech at Rice University in 1962, “is there.” To them (us), a meaningful rationale is not so much a justification of why human spaceflight could continue as it is a defense of why it should. Humanity’s expansion into space is taken as an ordained inevitability and our pursuit of it a compelled calling. It is understandable, then, the consternation felt when confronted with the hard reality that a majority views human spaceflight as a lesser priority than other projects, that humans have been essentially mired in low Earth orbit since the apex in exploration that was the lunar landings, and that most of the more audacious human spaceflight efforts have faced intense fiscal pressures, programmatic instability, or outright cancellation.

In this present era of national challenges which demand the attention of policymakers and the public – economic uncertainty, international turmoil and change, domestic political and social upheaval – it is more important than ever for the space community to reflect on the purpose of human space exploration. What value does it hold? Are the oft-repeated reasons that have sought to justify the enormous cost of human spaceflight applicable in the current day? Will advocates of a robust human presence in space be met with the same disappointments in the coming decades as they have in those that have passed?

This will all ultimately depend on how the question of human spaceflight’s efficacy as a tool for society is answered. Whether the justifications for human spaceflight are cohesive with national desires will be, as Dr. John Logsdon noted in Which Direction in Space, “key to decisions on the future of government space programs around the world.” If found, “the 21st century could see the full realization of both the practical and inspirational potentials of space.”[1] If not, human spaceflight may remain a far muted shadow of the grandiose visions (and expectations) put forth by the likes of von Braun and O’Neill.

As the United States works to develop a coherent and cohesive national space strategy, a reconsideration of the rationales behind human spaceflight and their relevance in the policy arena is increasingly warranted. Reevaluation and discussion of these rationales can, hopefully, enable the space community to better align its intent and aspirations with the needs of the nation. At the same time, the space “ecosystem” is rapidly and dramatically evolving. Private and commercial entrants with human spaceflight aspirations are becoming more extricated from the pressures and constraints of public policy and funding. Will rationales justifying their efforts even be necessary? Perhaps, for as long as they continue to interface with (and rely upon support from) government-run programs. But as spaceflight becomes more democratized with actors who can privately finance their efforts, the fundamental issue of “why” may simply turn into a question of markets and economics.

To begin a discussion on the rationales of spaceflight, it need be acknowledged that the space effort does not exist in a vacuum (at least metaphorically). Rather, for most of its history, space exploration – particularly that involving human flight – has been a matter of public policy. Especially in the United States, funding and programmatic decisions have been the purview of leaders in the executive and legislative branches. While granted leeway in strategic and practical implementation of missions, NASA as an agency is subordinated in goal-setting and resource allocation to the ideas, decisions, and whims of its political leaders. The character of the human spaceflight program, its successes, stumbles, and failures, are a result.

In public policymaking, rationales matter – persuasive ones appealing to the whole of or influential actors within society especially so. This is significant in a country such as the United States, which has a political system sharply characterized by competing groups – political parties, advocacy groups, industry organizations, scientific societies, to name a few – with distinct and active interest in shaping the nation’s direction, its allocation of resources and energy. Their goals and aspirations are often starkly different, at times contradictory. Their motivations range from the ideological to the practical and material. And they exist and operate in a resource-constrained environment. While the federal budget may grow and shrink, the United States’ government is limited to a finite amount of money it can throw toward its entire portfolio of projects and activities. Where the government chooses to allocate those funds is the product of policymaking – the process of judging and prioritizing the disparate needs and desires of stakeholders in the system.

The same holds true abroad, in countries with similarly representative political systems and those without. Even in authoritarian systems and command economies, limitless opportunities are bounded by limited resources. Where leaders decide to put their time and money are strategic decisions which cater to the interests of internal actors with political clout or which advance the standing – be it diplomatic, economic, or prestigious – of the state.

Those who advance the cause of publicly-funded human spaceflight find themselves operating in a larger political context and competing against equally worthy causes. To win support (and money), the rationale they put forth needs to be persuasive across a broad spectrum of political factions, appeal to potential supporters and opponents, and meet the perceived needs of large and diverse economic and political constituencies. In lack of a persuasive rationale, a proposed effort will be superseded by others seen by the broader polity as more realistically and immediately achievable or necessary.

This is a challenging task. That human spaceflight has, throughout its history, remained an ancillary part of public policy reflects the space community’s continuing struggle to arrive at a rationale compelling enough to heighten its stature on the policy agenda. Of course, this challenge is compounded further by the present-day practical circumstances of spaceflight: that “space is hard” – dangerous, costly, resource and time consuming, and technically difficult. Where there is overlap in purpose between human spaceflight and a cheaper terrestrial option, it is difficult to justify going with the former over the later.

Dr. Logsdon described this as the “potential liabilities associated with using space systems to carry out centrally important functions for society,”

“Such systems remain expensive to develop and launch. They have mixed records of reliability, and repair of problems or failures is at best very difficult… [w]hen these factors are taken into account, do space systems indeed compare favorably with terrestrial alternatives for carrying out the same function? Are there unique and valuable functions that only space systems can perform?”[2]

Dr. Logsdon’s last question is particularly key. Is there a function that only human spaceflight can perform, one which outweighs its costs? If there is, it has evidently not been properly articulated to policymakers or executed to its fullest potential in the past few decades. This notion is reflected in the Columbia Accident Investigation Board’s 2003 report, which made a condemning recognition of “the lack, over the past three decades, of any national mandate providing NASA a compelling mission requiring human presence in space.”[3]

Against this framing of the political environment’s dynamics, the most commonly advanced rationales for human spaceflight can be better addressed and understood. Academics, policymakers, industry leaders, and space enthusiasts have all weighed in with their justifications for why we – as a country, society, and species – should and will send humans into space. Many are deduced in retrospect, analyses informed by historical actions taken to meet past circumstances, challenges, and opportunities. Some are longer-term utopian prognoses, driven by ideological ideals, economic aspirations, and concepts of indefinite human survival. Others are more philosophical in nature, drawing on such notions as humanity’s inherently exploratory and adventurous character and “destiny.” Perspectives are diverse and occasionally disparate.

The oft-repeated rationales for human spaceflight are also reflective of the interests held by the various stakeholders of the space effort. For scientists and researchers, for example, it is to advance scientific research and knowledge. For commercial space companies, especially those that have emerged in the recent decade, it is to advance the sphere of economic activity beyond Earth. For policymakers, it is frequently cited as a means to advance the interests of their constituency and the nation – spaceflight creates high-skill, high-wage jobs, inspires the next generation of workers to fill those jobs, and is a tool for international prestige, cooperation, and leadership.

Roger Launius’s seminal Compelling Rationales for Spaceflight laid out five major themes used to justify efforts in space: geopolitics/national pride and prestige; national security and military applications; economic competitiveness; scientific discovery; and human destiny/survival of the species. Returning to Dr. Logsdon’s question on the unique value of spaceflight, he noted that, of these, “only the human destiny/survival of the species and geopolitics agendas require humans to fly in space.”[4] This largely holds true, at least in the present day. Much scientific discovery in space can be and is accomplished through robotic spacecraft. National security space systems are all automated. Indeed, early efforts for national security-related human spaceflight, such as the MOL Program, were cancelled in favor of non-human spacecraft. Meanwhile, most of the present-day economic value derived from space is done through satellites orbiting the Earth.

Recognizing the pressures involved in public policymaking, the geopolitical rationale appears, at least historically, the most significant and compelling. Underlying this is the fact that international events and circumstances, acting as forcing functions, can either heighten or lessen human spaceflight’s stature as an element of public policy and policymakers’ willingness to allocate resources toward it. Human spaceflight has, at least historically, been most valued as a part of the foreign policy “toolbox,” as a method to deal with emerging external challenges. As Professor Roger Handburg put in his Rationales of the Space Program,

“one needs an incentive, a compelling focusing event, strong enough to break through the existing political status quo and to place the issue of space on the policy agenda for political decision-making and policy formulation.”[5]

Closely related to the geopolitical rationale is that of prestige and national pride. Human spaceflight, as an enormously challenging yet rewarding task, reflects a country’s scientific, technological, and industrial strength. It is meant to appeal to audiences both domestic and international. The pride rational of human spaceflight, in the view of Harold Goodwin in Space: Frontier Unlimited,

“[S]hould be enough without all the other reasons and rationalizations that have been presented. It is the proper motivation of a prideful people with vitality, a sense of destiny, and confidence in their own ability.”[6]

The prestige and pride rationale is salient across the programs of the world’s space powers, and especially so the Chinese human spaceflight program. Goodwin’s assertion is reflected in the 2011 and 2016 white papers laying out China’s purpose for space exploration, China’s ambition for space achievement is driven by a belief that the prestige benefits that result increase China’s national power, thereby enhancing China’s overall influence and giving China more freedom of action in a region where it seeks heightened hegemony. Moreover, the human spaceflight program is intended to demonstrate the strength and validity of the Chinese leadership to domestic constituencies:

“[A]s a single-party undemocratic state built upon the Chinese Communist Party’s legacy, the leadership seeks to tangibly demonstrate progress that resonates with the Party’s narrative of continual economic prosperity, scientific achievement, and national pride and unity so as to legitimize continued one-party rule… spaceflight is conducted to demonstrate that the Chinese Communist Party is the best provider of material benefits to the Chinese people and the best organization to propel China to its rightful place in world affairs.”[7]

The prestige rationale can also be seen in nearly every human spaceflight effort the United States has undertaken. As noted by Launius,

“The United States went to Moon for prestige purposes, but it also built the Space Shuttle and embarked on the space station for prestige purposes as well… [p]restige will ensure that no matter how difficult the challenges and overbearing the obstacles, the United States will continue to fly humans in space indefinitely.” [8]

Prestige and pride are powerful motivators, but are they alone enough to justify a robust human spaceflight program? Apparently not in the minds of policymakers, who weigh it against other indicators of national prestige – such as a strong national defense, global humanitarian presence, or leadership in the arts, athletics, or terrestrial sciences. Rather, it seems that the prestige and pride rationales for human spaceflight are most compelling in two cases: first, when there is a development in space that threatens the prestige of the nation and the pride its citizens hold in it. The Soviets beating the United States in orbiting the first satellite and astronaut, for example. Second, when a country sees space prestige as a method to complement and buttress a broader and pressing geopolitical goal. Such is the case for China, which actively seeks hegemony in the Asia-Pacific and hopes that its space program will demonstrate superiority over neighbors. Notably, at present both a distinct threat in space that threatens national prestige and a specific strategic goal that’s actively supported by leadership in space are lacking for the United States.

This relates to Professor Handburg’s notion of “compelling focusing events,” to which we return. Demonstrative of their importance, it is around these events which most of the enthusiastic narratives of human spaceflight have been built. The Apollo project, the Shuttle program, the International Space Station – these successes have been the product of fortuitous alignment of rationales put forward by domestic interests, the existence of external challenges those rationales were cohesive with, and political will to expend the necessary funds to achieve them.

Let’s explore these in turn. The Apollo landings, as perhaps the seminal series of events in the history of human spaceflight, have been ascribed with a slew of reasons for why they occurred: to promote peace “for all mankind,” to advance the technological and industrial capacity of the nation, to conduct scientific research and discovery. Yet despite President Kennedy’s rhetoric laying out these rationales, a singular reason existed for Apollo’s conception and drove its continued funding and execution. The United States had to beat the Soviet Union to the Moon. Without the broader context of the Cold War, Sputnik and Gagarin, the failed Bay of Pigs invasion and the Cuban Missile Crisis, the effort of landing on the Moon would not have begun or, if it did, the government would not have dedicated over four percent of annual GDP to achieve it. And, of course, once the “race to the Moon” was solidly won, subsequent missions lost political appeal and were accordingly cancelled.

Rationales put forth for the International Space Station include scientific research and international cooperation. It need be remembered, though, that the project evolved out of Space Station Freedom – a Reagan-era proposal for a U.S. station that faced stiff Congressional skepticism for reasons of funding and purpose. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Russian economic crisis and deorbit of Mir, and concerns about a diaspora among the Russian space industrial base, the United States brought in Russia and other international partners to the station project. In effect, the ISS found political support where Space Station Freedom failed for the prestige the project could achieve in a new global order, for the cost-sharing of a partnered effort, and in that it could serve to coopt Russian talent lest they went abroad to build space systems – or ICBMs. Now, with the ISS’ operational costs consuming a significant portion of NASA’s budget and its R&D output being less than expected and preferred (especially in the much anticipated field of space-produced pharmaceuticals), it is understandable that the agency, policymakers, and partners are noncommittal to extending its lifetime beyond 2024 or flying a follow-on platform after it deorbits.

The Space Shuttle was intended for cheap and routine access to space but, equally important, as a vehicle to deliver national security-critical Department of Defense payloads, conduct classified missions, and (perhaps) retrieve and return sensitive satellites from orbit. Much of the will to fund it came from DoD’s interest in the vehicle, which manifested in a complex set of design requirements. When the Shuttle failed to live up to the former purpose and was significantly scaled back for the latter following the Challenger disaster, the program was arguably left adrift in search of a mission – and eventually transformed into what was essentially a construction and delivery service for the ISS. It is not surprising then, even if disconcerting, that the program was ended without a follow-on capability in place.

And for these successes, there are others where an alignment of rationale and need didn’t exist outright; where the rationales put forward fell short of addressing an immediate national challenge, where the resources required couldn’t be justified when put against alternate projects. The whole of the Space Transportation System, the Space Exploration Initiative, the Vision for Space Exploration, and (to some) the “Journey to Mars” come to mind.

How so? The Space Transportation System, of which the Space Shuttle was envisioned as just an element of the larger architecture, found itself struggling for political buy-in and resources in the wake of the “victory” of the space race and competing with the rising pressures of the Vietnam War and domestic social change. The Nixon Administration could only justify a part of the program, the vehicle that had won DoD buy-in and had distinct national security purposes. Moreover, the decision to move ahead with the Shuttle was as political as it was motivated by some space-related rationale – Nixon didn’t want to be seen as the President who “killed the space program.”  The Space Exploration Initiative, with a total price-tag of over $500 billion, was balked at by Congress for its cost. The Vision for Space Exploration was cancelled because, as suggested by President Obama in so many words, the United States had “already been” to the Moon. And today’s “Journey to Mars,” with its significant schedule slippage, aborted asteroid redirect element, and currently unfunded cis-lunar “proving ground” phase, seems to be faring little better.

Several general points can be derived from these successful and failed human spaceflight projects of past. Foremost is an affirmation of the importance of the “compelling focusing event,” as described by Dr. Handburg, in providing the political impetus and will for starting and continuing support for a program to fly humans in space. The Apollo program and the International Space Station may have fulfilled important purposes – fostering international cooperation, demonstrating the United States’ leadership, enabling scientific discovery – but their inceptions were catalyzed as distinct policy responses to meet specific circumstances. Political consensus for these programs coalesced around the perceived national need to address the external challenges of the “space race” and of the Soviet Union’s collapse. These spaceflight programs won the support of broad enough political constituencies to be executed not merely because they involved outer space, but because they were seen as better tools to accomplish a strategic goal than terrestrial alternatives. As such, the substantial public funding and continued programmatic stability necessary for their success was provided until such time as the national need was met – but not much further after that. Other failed proposals, such as the Space Exploration Initiative or Vision for Space Exploration, would’ve equally fulfilled scientific, exploratory, and prestige purposes, but lacked a forcing function significant enough to warrant the creation of strong political coalitions that could bring them to fruition.

This leads to a second important point – that many of the rationales used to justify a human spaceflight program are either ancillary to the politically compelling purpose of meeting a perceived national crisis and geopolitical challenge, or are applied after the fact. Science, exploration, inspiration – these are, as described above, often-cited rationales that are almost inherent elements of any effort in space. Yet they have rarely, if ever, been the explicit and primary purpose of human spaceflight. As noted earlier, stakeholders of the spaceflight effort seek to justify that effort by the interests they hold – scientists desire discoveries and research, and justify programs for their scientific benefits; educators and politicians see spaceflight’s inspirational value as a method to bring students into science and technology, and therefore talk of the jobs created by it. But these alone are not enough to catalyze a new program. The groups who advance them do so in the hope that policymakers, of whom they’re constituents, will continue to support the space effort to advance their vested interest. As perhaps best said by Robert Colborn, “most of the motives advanced for [human spaceflight] seem… more like by-products than like major purposes.”[9]  This is not to minimize the value of these rationales, but to underscore their apparent unimportance in the creation of public policy pertaining to space.

Third, the rationales ascribed to a human spaceflight program generally lose importance or relevance once the program’s main purpose is complete and, accordingly, political will to sustain that program wanes. This is especially evident in the Apollo Program, where follow-on missions which carried scientific benefit were nonetheless cancelled after the United States clearly demonstrated its technical and scientific prowess. This again suggests the ancillary value of most rationales to the space effort and the significance instead of singular goals which a human spaceflight program seeks to achieve.

From these points, an overall conclusion can be drawn about human spaceflight, at least as a government-run effort. It is a tool to achieve immediate national needs toward which political consensus and will exists. More often than not, that consensus and will emerges from factors and circumstances in the broader domestic and international environment. Rationales justifying a program are equally valid and invalid depending on how they align with the necessity that program sets out to address, and may be reflected in political rhetoric regarding that program, but are generally not alone the driving force for its inception or even its sustainment.

Members of the space community should draw their own conclusions about their rationales from these points. Several suggestions, however, can be offered:

  • While obviously having value, the conventional rationales for human spaceflight are evidently not compelling enough to win sustained support from broad political coalitions or raise the stature of human spaceflight in the policy agenda. Continuing to justify human spaceflight on the basis of these rationales is unlikely to result in dramatic shifts in the space program. The space community either needs to find new rationales to justify spaceflight, or redefine the scope and character of those they currently do.

  • Rationales that are compelling must appeal to groups across the political spectrum, constituencies which exist outside the space community, and to policymakers who have immediate vested interests elsewhere. They cannot advocate for space for space’s sake alone; rather, they must advocate for space as a means to support society’s goals back on Earth. And to be successful against groups competing for the same limited resources, they must address current pressing needs (i.e. beat the Soviets to the Moon) rather than long-term or utopian ideals (i.e explore the unknown, settle outer space). The space community’s rationales need to be more focused, short-term, and relevant to the needs of people on Earth.

  • Rationales need an external forcing function, a “compelling focusing event,” to have relevance. The space community needs to be alert for perceived crises in the international and domestic arenas against which they can align their justification for spaceflight to drive the policy discussion. They must act as policy “entrepreneurs” by selling their rationales to policymakers as solutions to these problems.

Up to this point, this piece has discussed the relevance of rationales as they pertain to government-run efforts and public policy. But, again, the character of spaceflight is quickly changing with commercial and private actors entering the fold. Similar to the public sector, private companies are bounded in their desires by available resources. In the private sector, available resources are determined by market returns and capital investment. Where investors choose to allocate their funds is the result of risk calculation, market forecasting and, occasionally, personal motivation. Likewise, where customers choose to spend their money is a decision on the perceived value of the service they will receive.

This warrants a brief look at the economic rationale for human spaceflight. Despite the growing optimism among the enthusiastic public and the private sector about the economic rationale for human spaceflight, it remains to be seen whether a sustainable and profitable economic endeavor in space requires a human presence. Tourism, be it on suborbital spacecraft, circumlunar flights, or orbital platforms, is approaching, but is unlikely to be a robust market or catalyze a dramatic growth in human presence in space. Unless the cost of spaceflight is dramatically reduced, tourism will remain the province of a niche community of the ultra-wealthy. And while space companies such as United Launch Alliance and Blue Origin talk about “a cis-lunar economy” and “millions of humans living and working in space,” there is still no clear answer as to what economic activity those humans would be doing. In-space assembly, manufacturing, and production can be automated, as can lunar and asteroid resource mining. If the ISS is to be trusted as a case-study, basic and applied research conducted by humans is not a “killer application” for making money in space either.

Nonetheless, these companies will strive to see whether human spaceflight can be made economical. At present and into the near future, a variant of the economic rationale for human spaceflight could be seen as compelling, at least for the short-term: to see if a sustainable economic activity exists in space. Unlike the policy arena, whether this rationale remains compelling will not be judged against the needs of various constituencies and public interests, but by the market and the wallet.

This last point is important: by eliminating the pressure felt in the public sector to balance resources among competing groups, market-based human spaceflight enables other rationales to become more prominent so long as they are profitable. This is particularly true for the “utopian” rationale of human spaceflight – colonizing other worlds, ensuring humanity’s indefinite survival, creating new civilizations in the space frontier. This utopian rationale has always been an underlying assumption of human spaceflight, even if it has not been applied as a distinct or even ancillary goal of programs to date. Taken against the analysis above, this is understandable: it does not address an immediate and distinct national need, there is no forcing function for it (nor, hopefully, will there be, considering that would entail some sort of extinction-level event occurring), and it is difficult to see how it would win support from powerful political groups who worry more about first improving the plight of Earth and those living upon it. Nonetheless, per Launius,

While “[t]he quest for utopia in space has been implicit rather than explicit, there has never been any question but that the long-term objective of spaceflight is human colonization of the cosmos. Virtually all models for the future of spaceflight have at their core human expansion beyond Earth.”[10]

This motivation underlies the plans of Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk, who indeed see the economic rationale of their companies’ plans as a means toward this end. While the latter rationale will necessarily rely upon the success of the former, it is easy to see an undeniable paradigm shift occurring with the embrace of the utopian rationale as a key purpose for human spaceflight.

Taken all together, what does this mean for human spaceflight in the coming decades? It is, of course, impossible to foresee the future, but some predictions may be made. Unless the United States faces a geopolitical crisis which warrants a space solution or develops a national grand strategy which cohesively integrates human spaceflight as a valued tool to achieve its aims, it is unlikely that the stature or funding of its human spaceflight program will increase. Large spaceflight programs with enormous costs will likely continue to face significant fiscal pressures and programmatic instability as space policy ascends and descends in political importance. Even if, as said by Launius, prestige and pride will ensure that the United States continues to fly humans in space, they will not guarantee a robust human presence or the success of an ambitious program; there is no reason to assume so, if they haven’t done so historically. Meanwhile, other “rising” countries with distinct geopolitical goals, such as China, will continue to exploit the prestige factor of human spaceflight until such time as their aspired position is obtained.

However, if the private sector succeeds in its economic aspirations, human spaceflight may become more prevalent and the rationales used to justify it more varied. There could emerge a successful synthesis of the private sector’s aspirations, justifications, and capabilities with the civil space program’s goals and needs – humans in space because of economic reasons working to support a government-directed program, for example. This synthesis of capabilities and rationales may be key to the 21st century’s “full realization of both the practical and inspirational potentials of space.”

Does all of this answer the question of “why?” No. Perhaps this is because it is a question without a single, compelling, definitive answer. The answer to “why” will change according to circumstances, politics, and economics. Ultimately, it comes down to spaceflight’s value as a tool – to be used when the time and circumstances are right. And still, attempting to find a definitive and singular answer for it will likely remain as popular an activity as it is an ultimately futile one. What would be more fruitful for the space community is not continuing to seek them out; instead, it would be find a way to adjust the answers which do exist in such a way to make them compelling when the country needs to address a crisis and is asking “how.”

[1] John M. Logsdon, “Which Direction in Space?” Space Policy, May 2005. Pg. 88.

[2] Ibid. Pg. 87.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Roger D. Launius, “Compelling Rationales for Spaceflight: History and the Search for Relevance” in Steven Dick and Roger Launius, Eds. Critical Issues in the History of Spaceflight (2006). Pg. 68.

[5] Roger Handberg, “Rationales of the Space Program” in Eligar Sadeh, Space Politics and Policy, 2002. Pg. 29.

[6] Harold Leland Goodwin, “Space: Frontier Unlimited” (1962). Pg. 111.

[7] Cody Knipfer, “The Asian Space Race and China’s Solar System Exploration, Domestic and International Rationales,” The Space Review, 2016. http://www.thespacereview.com/article/3007/1

[8] Roger D. Launius, “Compelling Rationales for Spaceflight: History and the Search for Relevance” in Steven Dick and Roger Launius, Eds. Critical Issues in the History of Spaceflight (2006). Pg. 50, 52.

[9] Robert Colborn, “In Our Opinion,” International Science and Technology, January 1963. pg. 19.

[10] Roger D. Launius, “Compelling Rationales for Spaceflight: History and the Search for Relevance” in Steven Dick and Roger Launius, Eds. Critical Issues in the History of Spaceflight (2006). Pg. 43.

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