Magnificent Desolation

by Buzz Aldrin

  Lois changed our flight to China to Monday night. The sponsors had shifted my speech from the opening to the closing. But as a consequence, they couldn’t get the first-class tickets that they had originally arranged for us. We would fly business class all the way to China.

  “We’ll be there with you and for you each step of the way,” Lois encouraged me.

  “Okay, fine,” I answered. “But after the speeches, I’m not doing anything, no sightseeing, no social events, nothing. I just want to relax in the hotel.”

  “All right, that is okay.”

  We boarded our flight to Hong Kong on Monday, May 1, and on Wednesday afternoon I fulfilled the first engagement, enjoying my time on stage, and speaking extemporaneously for most of my keynote. The audience and the sponsors seemed to love it, and gave me a great ovation. During the second engagement, I stayed closer to a more scripted presentation, and that event had a very successful outcome as well. We stayed a few extra days in China, flew to Beijing, and I actually conceded to do a bit of sightseeing, especially when our hosts arranged a private tour of the Forbidden City, where we viewed the inner sanctum of the City and entered the royal bedchambers that few other Americans have been privileged to see. That night our hosts treated us to an elegant dinner at the China Club. We were treated royally, and what could have been a disaster turned into a trip of a lifetime because of Lois’s absolute confidence in me, and her dogged determination to overcome any actions that might be self-destructive on my part.

  One of the important realizations for both of us that came out of this experience was that I could rise up and perform in spite of feeling blue—and even be inspiring to others. I was beginning to realize that I could transform from a downward spiral to my usual energetic and productive self. Sure, such challenging moments may arise in the future. But the good news is that such occurrences have become rare, and have not interfered with my productivity. Lois and I have learned to recognize the symptoms of approaching depression, and we are committed to making sure that every day is a good day, no matter how external events affect our lives.

  OF ALL MY endeavors, I am happiest when working on space projects—especially space tourism. I want everyone to enjoy the thrill of space travel. That’s why I was very pleased when I learned that Dennis Tito, a former aerospace engineer at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory who had amassed his self-made fortune by applying his methodical approach to building an investment firm, was pushing hard to become the first American space tourist. The ticket was to be brokered by Space Adventures, Ltd., the premier space tourism agency to which I had coincidentally lent my name over the last several years as an advisory board member. The destination was the International Space Station. The only difficulty I had with the itinerary, in spite of my general support of international cooperation in space, was the mode of transportation. He would be hitching a ride on board the Soyuz spacecraft, at a cost of nearly $20 million. Dennis would have to go to Russia to make his American dream come true.

  Dennis moved from his 30,000-square-foot Pacific Palisades mansion located on a hill overlooking the ocean to a tiny, bare apartment in Star City, the Russian cosmonaut training headquarters outside Moscow. He completed his training with two Russian cosmonauts, and on April 28, 2001, they launched from the same pad from which Sputnik, history’s first flight into space, had lifted off. It was also the same pad from which Yuri Gagarin, the first man to travel in space, took off forty years earlier, on April 12, 1961.

  A couple of months after Dennis returned from his mission, both he and I appeared before congressional subcommittees to answer questions about space tourism. Dennis had successfully opened a door to space tourism; now I just had to find a way to make it affordable to more people. The committee asked me to address three questions specifically:

  What types of activities will be enabled or enhanced by space tourism?

  What are the major hurdles that must be overcome before the space tourism business can be self-sustaining?

  What role should the Federal government play in promoting space tourism?

  For me, these three questions were like a volleyball hanging over the net, just waiting to be spiked. I began by explaining to the congressional committee that space tourism was the key to generating the high-volume traffic that could bring down launch costs. NASA’s own research had suggested that tens of millions of U.S. citizens wanted to travel to space, and that the number would increase immeasurably if the global market were included. This volume of ticket-buying passengers could be the solution to the problem of high space costs that plague government and private space efforts alike.

  I emphasized, though, that if we were to avoid the mistakes of the past, it was imperative that we involve the private sector. The needs of the commercial space tourism business must be central as we define the next generation of reusable space transportation. The next vehicles must be designed with the flexibility not only to satisfy NASA’s needs, but to meet high-volume commercial tourism requirements, and the private sector must be responsible for operating the system.

  I admitted quite candidly that I had an ulterior motive for promoting space tourism, that my goal really was to get the United States back in the space exploration business, to begin again to discover what was “out there” in the final frontier.

  “My passion about this,” I acknowledged, “springs from the way that large-scale space tourism leads to space infrastructure that enables broader national goals—such as a return to the moon and the exploration of Mars.”

  In answer to the committee’s first question, I expressed my strong opinion that if the government would get out of the way, space transportation could evolve into a normal industry. “It will become like the rail, pipeline, ship, highway, and air traffic systems,” I told the committee members. “They all have vast markets, low costs, high reliability, full reusability and routine operations. Today, space transportation is characterized by small markets, high costs, high accident rates, wasteful expendability, an inability to operate on a routine schedule, and continuing loss of market share to foreign suppliers.”

  I knew this was not the message the committee wanted to hear, but it was the truth they needed to hear, so I pressed on, reminding them of the benefits of space tourism. Properly planned and implemented, space tourism could help cut the cost of space access by 50 to 70 percent, I told them. This lower-cost system will deliver several benefits:

  The United States will recapture the lion’s share of the global satellite market.

  NASA’s planetary probes will become far more affordable.

  Space hotels will become feasible, providing greater volume at far lower costs than the International Space Station.

  The launchers for space hotels and space tourists will be equally ideal for expeditions to the moon and Mars, as well as to launch massive military payloads like space-based lasers and future solar-based satellites.

  Perhaps the greatest long-term benefit will be the mass production of spaceflight, the high-flight-rate, high reusability and high reliability. The nation that establishes a two-stage fully reusable heavy-lift launch vehicle will lead the world for the next thirty to forty years in charting the space frontier.

  I contrasted these positive effects with the current situation in which the exorbitant cost of the space shuttle and the International Space Station operations have become a millstone around the neck of our space exploration programs and the American taxpayers.

  I knew I had the committee’s full attention now, so I proceeded to answer their question about some of the hurdles that had to be addressed before space tourism could become self-sustaining. I’m sure I surprised the members when I said, “Actually it may be self-sustaining already. Some Russian officials have said that Dennis Tito’s check covered the entire out-of-pocket cost of launching the Soyuz rocket that took him to the space station. If space tourism already makes financial sense when you fly Russian expendable rockets—what happens when their technology becomes reusable—
when Russian launch costs suddenly drop and their safety goes way up?”

  I went on to point out something that many of the committee members probably didn’t know: “We Americans have spare seats for rich tourists, too. The space shuttle often flies with only five or six people, when it can hold seven to eight. The United States could be learning about space tourism, using the assets it already has. Flying passengers on the shuttle can be part of the research that leads to new vehicles, based on first-hand experience with the shuttle tourists. So I have to say that NASA’s refusal to actively encourage passengers on the shuttle is a major hurdle.”

  Ouch. I could almost feel the committee members wince as they came face-to-face with the truth that one of the biggest hurdles to advancing in space is our own space administration.

  I talked a bit about the difficulties in raising capital for space tourism, or even accessing loans to finance the business. I knew from my experience with StarBoosters that lenders were skittish about loaning money to what they regarded as a highly speculative start-up industry.

  Since the gloves were off now, I figured I might as well lay it all out candidly before the congressional committee:

  Another hurdle is the current structure of the space transportation industry. Two major private companies, Boeing and Lockheed Martin, formed a monopoly [United Space Alliance] to operate the space shuttle. Even monopolies have good ideas from time to time, and one idea was to turn the Columbia orbiter into a commercial vehicle, one that might take passengers. NASA’s reaction was to have the president of the monopoly fired.

  On the military space side, the two major companies were both given contracts for the Evolved Expendable Launch Vehicle. With the 20/20 clarity of hindsight, we can now see that this was a mistake. Now neither of them has any incentive to develop reusable vehicles, despite what may be said for public consumption, at least until they’ve recovered their considerable costs sunk in the new systems.

  I could see on some of the committee members’ faces that they didn’t quite catch the significance of this, so I spelled it out specifically:

  We have a civilian space agency that’s been hostile to tourism, and the two major private companies left with no incentives to move on to reusable systems that could greatly serve our national interest and the waiting tourism market. In the meantime, the Russians just announced at the Paris Air Show that they are moving ahead with their reusable first-stage system, the Baikal. Making matters worse, they have found a market for their vehicle in Europe, where they are now attempting to team with the European Space Agency to use it as a reusable booster on the Ariane 5, replacing the more costly and accident-prone, expendable solid rocket motors.

  Until NASA becomes an advocate for space tourism, or Congress intercedes and mandates the Department of Defense or NASA to develop reusable space transportation—and it can be done during this administration—the current establishment structure will not produce what we need.

  When it came to answering the committee’s third question—what should the government do to help—I grew even more direct:

  First, it should keep its promises. Speaking very personally, I want you to know what NASA has done directly to my ShareSpace Foundation. At the end of March, after great effort, we responded to a NASA request for cooperative research proposals on the Human Exploration and Development of Space. We offered to compile detailed and sophisticated market research on the potential demand for passenger space travel. Two months later, NASA told us our proposal was exactly what they wanted. But in the same letter, it said the money to fund the entire program had been hijacked by other budget needs. This, unfortunately, has become more of the norm for doing business with NASA, not the exception.

  I doubt that NASA has congressional approval for this maneuver. I hope you tell them to put the money back where they found it.

  Next, NASA should immediately set up the mechanism for flying paying passengers on the space shuttle. My ShareSpace Foundation has been proposing this to NASA for two years now. We offered to create a scientific research program on what’s required to safely train passengers for space travel, and what medical standards should be developed for screening passengers. The passengers’ own ticket money would pay for all the research, and my foundation would make the results freely available. This would be a tremendous help to all the companies planning space tourism ventures, and to the government agencies that would regulate them. Leftover ticket money would go back into NASA to support other space tourism initiatives.

  Since the shuttle was declared operational, more than 100 seats have gone unused. If the value of a seat is $20 million, that amounts to $2 billion in lost revenue for the space program.

  The ShareSpace Foundation proposal for shuttle seats would see the chance to fly to orbit made available in many different ways. Some seats would be sold to the highest bidders to determine just how much early pioneers are willing to pay for space travel. This is important market research data. Some seats would be offered via sweepstakes or lotteries, so every American could have a small chance of flying to space. Others might be sold to television networks, so professional communicators could educate the public about the nature of the experience. It also would be good to have an independent journalist or two check in person on the space station’s progress. As things stand now, the taxpayers will pour up to $95 billion into a government construction project, and the only people who will report on how it’s going are employees of the federal agency in charge of construction. This strikes me as very unusual for such a massive expenditure of taxpayer funds.

  I reminded the committee that Russia already had established a lead in the area of space tourism, but it didn’t have to be that way. “If NASA continues to be hostile to using the space shuttle, all space tourists will be forced to use Russian companies, as Mr. Tito did. This makes no sense to me. We have spare seats in the shuttle, and using them doesn’t cost NASA a cent. Instead, it brings in extra money.”

  I concluded with what I hoped was a challenge to the members of the committee. “As I hope you recognize by now, space tourism is not just a cute idea,” I said. “The country that leads in space tourism will reap a tremendous drop in launch costs and far greater vehicle reliability. Its exploration initiatives and its military space activities will dominate the twenty-first century. As you can see, the United States is way off course on this subject, and it desperately needs Congress to firmly set a new pro-tourism policy.”

  I reminded them that many people were looking forward with great anticipation to traveling into space, and that once the restrictions and impediments were removed, people would be lining up for the possibility of a trip. “I know of two individuals, a well-known Hollywood producer and a well-known television correspondent, who are ready to go right now.” I was referring to my friends, the film director James Cameron of Titanic fame, and CNN newsman Miles O’Brien, with whom I have had the pleasure of being interviewed on many occasions.

  Since Dennis Tito’s flight in April 2001, five space “tourists” have followed suit to join this exclusive orbital flight group, most recently paying over $30 million for a seat on Russia’s Soyuz spacecraft to fly for a week up to the International Space Station. These have included: Mark Shuttleworth, a South African computer software entrepreneur; Greg Olsen, an American entrepreneur and scientist in the optical sensor field; Anousheh Ansari, an Iranian-American cofounder of Prodea Systems and title sponsor of the Ansari X PRIZE; Charles Simonyi, a Hungarian computer software architect and developer of Microsoft’s office applications, who was also the first space tourist to make a return trip to the ISS in March 2009; and Richard Garriott, an American computer game designer and son of Skylab astronaut Owen Garriott. I have met all of these spirited adventurers—or “Global Space Travelers” as I like to call them—and I herald their commitments to expand the human spaceflight experience. They all trained diligently for their respective flights and activities on board the ISS, and they have all brought back inspiring stori
es, photos, and new perspectives and insights on how space travel can be shared with more people.

  IN 2002, I was appointed by President George W. Bush to serve on the Commission on the Future of the U.S. Aerospace Industry, where I emphasized the importance of NASA partnering with privatized efforts to develop alternative spacecrafts and rockets. Our final commission report strongly urged the creation of a new space imperative for America, and that NASA look to private industry to accelerate commercial space endeavors in the twenty-first century.

  But once again NASA put off any action that might open the doors to a paradigm shift regarding access to space. I had been trying for years to transform the U.S. government’s approach to the space program, trying to get members of Congress to replace short-term thinking with a long-term, forward-looking perspective, planning for where we want to be thirty to fifty years from now, instead of getting back on the budget treadmill every year, perpetually debating the same issues regarding the space program year after year. Inevitably those issues revolved around the perennial question, “How much is all this going to cost?”

  That’s why ShareSpace was (and remains) such an exciting concept for me and for others who are able to share the vision of what we could do. One of those people was Les Moonves, president and CEO of CBS television. Les and I engaged in serious conversations regarding the possibility of a Survivor-type television program in which contestants could compete in various astronaut-training ordeals over the course of the season, with the winner receiving the grand prize of a trip to the International Space Station on the Russian Soyuz spacecraft, since commercial suborbital flights were not yet feasible in the United States. Our only stumbling block was the price tag.