12 Who Decides? Congress put the national space program in the hands of the civilian National Aeronautics and Space Administration without prescribing exactly what the program should be. Objectives of the space program as articulated in the NASA Act of 1958 left a tremendous leeway-in fact, a considerable responsibility-to NASA and the military to decide what should be done. Not that NASA could decide such questions unilaterally, for as with all such complex programs there were many levels of decision, from within. the agency to the Bureau of the Budget and the president, to the Congress, and back to the president. But assuming a reasonable amount of wisdom and attractiveness to what NASA proposed, the agency could expect approval of much of what it asked for, especially in the climate of competition with the Soviet Union that characterized the years immediately after launch of the first Sputnik. While ultimate authority in such matters rests with Congress and the president, the initial stages in which a salable proposal is being developed may be all-important. The scientific community wanted to participate in the initial stages-not only in the conduct of experiments. Indeed, the firm determination to do so was a major force in the relations between NASA and scientists. While this desire made it easy to bring first-rate scientists into the planning of the program, it also generated tension when NASA undertook to make the decisions as to what to propose to the administration and Congress. Many felt that the National Academy of Sciences as representative of the nation's scientists should call the shots in the national space science program. Immediately upon its creation in mid-1958, the Space Science Board solicited proposals and suggestions from the national scientific community for space science projects that should follow the accomplishment of the International Geophysical Year satellite program.2 After assessing about 200 such proposals, the board sent recommendations to NASA shortly before NASA opened.3 NASA managers were pleased to have these recommendations and incorporated them into program planning. But NASA was not willing to accept any implication that space science proposals should normally come to NASA through the Academy of Sciences, or that the Space Science Board should decide what experiments to conduct in the NASA program. NASA's position was that operational responsibilities placed by law upon the agency could not be turned over to some other agency. Moreover, decisions concerning the space science program could not be made on purely scientific grounds. There were other factors to consider, such as funding, manpower, facilities, spacecraft, launch vehicles, and even the salability of projects in the existing climate at the White House and on Capitol Hill-factors that only NASA could properly assess. So there followed a brief skirmish between the Academy and NASA as NASA insisted on deciding what space science it would include in its proposals to the administration and Congress. Hugh Odishaw, executive director of the Space Science Board, pressed even further, urging that NASA rely entirely on the outside scientific community for its science program, and not create any NASA space science groups. The author-heading NASA's space science program-resisted and was supported by Silverstein and Dryden on the grounds that, aside from wanting to be involved in the scientific work, the agency had to have a scientific competence to work properly with the outside scientific community. Were NASA to limit itself only to engineering and technical staffs, day-to-day decisions in the preparation of satellites and space probes would have to be made without the insights into basic and sometimes subtle scientific needs that only working scientists could provide. NASA created space science groups in a number of the centers, especially in the Goddard Space Flight Center and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. A few years later John Simpson, physicist at the University of Chicago, confided to the author that he had been one of those who had opposed the idea of NASA's having in-house space science groups. He had, however, completely changed his mind after seeing how valuable it was for the outside scientists to have, as it were, full-time representation at the centers, and to have an understanding ear to turn to when problems arose. Simpson specifically cited the Interplanetary Monitoring Platform-an Explorerclass satellite conceived by Goddard Space Flight Center scientists for investigating cislunar space-as extremely valuable for space science, particularly for his own scientific interests. Yet he and his colleagues in the universities, working only part time on space research and without extensive engineering support, were unlikely to have created any such vehicles. The first skirmish with the Academy and the outside scientists was not long lived, and NASA emerged firmly in control of space science as well as in other aspects of the space program. Nevertheless, NASA managers intended that the space science program be what the scientific community felt it should be. It was the firm conviction of NASA scientists that a highquality science program could be attained only by supporting the research of top-notch scientists. The agency proceeded, therefore, to seek and to heed the best scientific advice it could get. In various ways NASA sought to bring scientists intimately into the planning as well as the conduct of the program. With NASA in the driver's seat, but the scientific community serving as navigator, so to speak, a tugging and hauling developed, with a mixture of tension and cooperation that is best described as a love-hate relationship. SPACE SCIENCE BOARD Certainly "love-hate" aptly describes relations between NASA and the Academy of Sciences. Given its role in bringing a space program into being, the Academy could claim the rights, if not of a full parent, at least of a godparent. After failing in its bid to prescribe the space science program, the Academy, through its Space Science Board, advised and served as watchdog for the scientific community. On its part NASA strove to assimilate into its program the recommendations of the Space Science Board. That NASA and the Academy were setting the same course is plain from a comparison of the makeup of the space science program set forth in NASA's work papers of February 1959 and the book Science in Space, which the board sponsored and which set forth the areas of space research that board members considered promising.5 But the scientists were impatient and more inclined to complain about deficiencies than to acknowledge what was acceptable in NASA's efforts. After the first year Berkner, as chairman of the Space Science Board, felt it necessary to direct his criticism to George Kistiakowsky, the president's science adviser (see pp. 124, 212). That criticism ranged over virtually all aspects of the space science program.6 NASA people felt that Berkner had probably been moved by Hugh Odishaw, executive director of SSB, to complain to the president's science adviser instead of directly to the space agency. Odishaw had developed over the years a distrust of government and felt it incumbent upon himself to ensure that the Space Science Board properly discharged its watchdog function. Berkner's missive elicited a response from Glennan, which the NASA administrator addressed to Kistiakowsky, agreeing in general with Berkner's objectives but taking exception to some of the allegations.' Nevertheless, space science managers were goaded into renewed efforts to shape the program to the satisfaction of the scientific community. The going was difficult, and criticism continued until in June 1960 the author felt impelled to put out a workpaper on the subject.8 Specific criticism of NASA included officials' not visiting outside institutions enough, fear that the in-house publication policy of NACA would be followed rather than open publication in the scientific journals, inadequate involvement of the scientific community, too much emphasis on projects and not enough support to |