work until Skylab results were available and more mature consideration could be given to the matter. When the author testified on the Hill shortly after the report came out, he found that Congressman Karth had been giving a great deal of attention to what the panel had to say; and his copy of the report, amply marked up either by the staff or Karth himself, was a source for a great many questions on the space science program.35

The panel's negative attitude toward permanent space stations persisted throughout the work of preparing a draft report for the Space Task Group. In this the panel was opposed to Administrator Paine, who wanted to proceed at once with a permanent space station, as the next natural step in the space program. It was the panel's view that before proceeding with a space station, a more economical and versatile means of transportation to and from the station should be developed. In this respect-although with some ambivalence and quite tentatively-it supported a Space Shuttle project as the next major manned spaceflight effort for the nation. How much influence the panel had in securing ultimate support for the Shuttle program is moot. But at any rate in this last great issue to come before the panel before its demise in January 1973 at the hands of President Nixon, the members were pointing in the direction NASA came to regard as the right one for the country.

THE SCIENTISTS DECIDE

By virtue of science's being very much what scientists do, the space science program, if it was to be a good one, had to be what space scientists made of it. Recognizing this, NASA built its space science program on advice from the best scientific minds it could get to think about the program. Over the years June Merker, assistant to the author, kept a running record of recommendations made to NASA by the many advisory bodies with which the space science office had to deal. For each recommendation she put down what NASA's response had been. A simple perusal is enough to convince one that NASA did pay careful attention to what the scientists were telling the agency.36

This accommodation to the scientific community did not come about without much stress and strain. Scientists are a contentious lot, habituated to open debate and free expression of views, and the tremendous opportunities of the space program inspired them to more intense dispute than usual. One reviewer of this manuscript raised the question of why so much attention should be paid to the quarrelsomeness of the space scientists.37 Others expressed the view that even more attention should be given the subject. In view of their special role and position in the program, a certain noblesse oblige fell on the space scientists.38 Nevertheless, much of the tension in the program stemmed from the scientists' presumption of special privilege, which at times Congress found irritating. Many scientists how

ever-like Harry Hess, Charles Townes, John Simpson, Eugene Parker, Fred Seitz, John Findlay, and Gerard Kuiper-were invariably courteous and helpful.

But it should not be supposed that all the stresses and strains were between NASA and those outside. There were plenty of internal problems, and the space science program had its share, some of which are discussed in chapters 14-16.

13

The Universities: Allies and Rivals to NASA

For several reasons the universities were important to NASA, particularly to the space science program. First, much of the research embraced by space science-such as astronomy, relativity and cosmology, atmospheric studies, and lunar and planetary science—was done in or in conjunction with universities. As a consequence the best informed and most competent researchers important to space science were to be found on campus. While many of the investigators would have to spend long hard hours learning to use the new rocket and spacecraft tools, their years of working with the problems to be solved would give them a substantial head start.

Second, the university was the only institution devoted extensively to the training of new talent. As the space program was getting under way, various groups outside of NASA expressed concern that the new endeavor would lure scientific and technical expertise away from other areas of more immediate national concern. NASA managers argued that many researchers entering the space program would continue their ongoing research, except that now they could apply powerful space techniques to their investigations. In space science the argument was easy to make. Astronomers would continue to do astronomy, and solar physicists would continue to study the sun, but with the inestimable advantage of having their instruments above the atmosphere, which hitherto had hidden most of the wavelength spectrum from the observer on the ground. Atmospheric and ionospheric researchers would continue their investigations, but having their instruments in the very regions of study would shorten considerably the long chains of reasoning previously needed to go from ground-based observations to conclusions. And sending instruments to the moon and planets would furnish new data, the lack of which had for decades stymied efforts to understand these bodies.

But in applications and technology, the argument was not as persuasive. While one might grant that satellites should contribute to the observation and forecasting of weather and to the improvement of long-distance communications, still there was the usual feeling that conventional approaches needed the more immediate attention. As to the usefulness of

space technology, the connection was even less direct and the value of diverting manpower to space technology research more doubtful.

A significant effect of the Soviet Union's precedence in space was to set aside such arguments for a number of years. But those arguments were bound to recur unless steps were taken to counter any imbalances the space program might generate through the absorption of highly trained manpower from other activities. As a remedy, NASA undertook to support the universities in training substantial numbers of graduates in science and engineering, and even in aspects of law and economics related to space.

In providing support to the universities for research and the training of graduate students, NASA created a staunch ally. For space science especially, as the agency sought to bring university experts into planning the program as well as into the research, relations became quite intimate. But by simultaneously establishing space science groups of its own at NASA centers, NASA generated a substantial strain on the growing tie with the universities. For it was inevitable that the NASA space science groups would appear to have the inside track to funding and space on NASA's rockets and spacecraft.

Although in time NASA space science groups came to be seen by outside scientists as important points of contact, university researchers continued to worry that, in the face of budget cuts, the continuity of NASA space science teams would be ensured while university groups would be in jeopardy, and that university projects would be more likely to suffer from whims of NASA administrators than would those in the centers. Thus, while the alliance between NASA and the universities strengthened as the program unfolded, the element of rivalry was also there, a rivalry that at times displayed hues of outright antagonism when hard decisions had to be made-like the cancellation of the Advanced Orbiting Solar Observatory, which terminated important university research projects. It was a classic example of a love-hate relationship in which mutual interests and respect conflicted with a natural competition for support and position. For space science, at least, this element of ally and rival must be kept in mind as an important feature of the NASA university program.

The program itself got off to a slow start. NASA inherited little in the way of a university program from the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics. Oriented primarily toward in-house research, NASA's predecessor supported only a limited amount of university research.1 At first NASA's relations with the university community assumed an administrative complexion and during Glennan's years the group responsible for handling university matters remained on the administrative side of the house. When Administrator James E. Webb took over, the Office of Grants and Research Contracts, which had prime responsibility for NASA's university affairs, was still under Albert Siepert, NASA's director of administration.2

Only gradually did the idea of a university program as such emerge. From the provisions of Public Law 85-934, which went into effect in the fall of 1958, NASA acquired the authority to make grants in support of research pertinent to the NASA mission.3 But for a time NASA did not have the authority to provide for building research facilities on campuses. In May 1959, when Glenn Seaborg, Edward Teller, and some of their colleagues from the University of California at Berkeley met with Hugh Dryden and the author seeking funds to construct a building to house a space institute, Dryden had to tell them that NASA lacked authority to provide such support. The agency was, however, seeking to remedy this situation in the authorization request then before the Congress. But, not until the summer of 1961 did the agency gain the legal basis for making facilities grants to universities.5 In spite of its slowness, NASA in its first two years laid the basis for what might be called a conventional program to support space research on university campuses. Webb, the second administrator of NASA, added some decidedly unconventional elements to the program.

4

STEPPING UP THE PACE

To meet NASA's own needs, and under prodding from Lloyd Berkner and the Space Science Board, NASA space science managers during 1959 and 1960 gradually evolved a program for support of space science in the universities. By the fall of 1960, a policy for the program had taken shape. In November 1960 the author set forth some elements of policy to be followed with universities and nonprofit organizations. NASA would support basic research in these institutions for the purpose of developing space science, but could not support science in general. NASA would use multiyear funding and would seek to provide continuity of support to academic research groups. With these thoughts the shape of the conventional part of the university program was beginning to emerge. It remained to match the size of the program to the need.

During the spring of 1961 the determination grew to strengthen NASA's association with the universities. Meeting with his staff on 22 June 1961, Webb decided that NASA must encourage university participation in the space program and, moreover, must share in the necessary funding to make it possible for universities to take part. Webb assigned the author the task of organizing an intra-NASA study of how to proceed and to assemble an outside group of consultants. The very next day the author and his associates began to develop a list of topics to take up in the proposed studies, such as support of research, the differing requirements of laboratory research versus spaceflight research, the development of graduate education, the development of schools, the use of grants as opposed to contracts, fellowships, and the construction of facilities on campuses.' Simul