Mission possible - US cannot go on next Moon mission without Britain

Blackleaf

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The Sunday Times
January 21, 2007


Mission possible

It’s been 35 years since man walked on the moon. But now Nasa plans to go back and build a permanent base there. And this time, they can’t do it without Britain.



By Bryan Appleyard




The Sunday Times

January 21, 2007


From the Sea of Serenity on December 14, 1972, Eugene Cernan, Apollo 17 commander, and Harrison “Jack” Schmitt, lunar module pilot, blasted off to rejoin the pilot Ron Evans in the orbiting command module America. Cernan, the last man to walk on the moon, said: “We leave as we came and, God willing, as we shall return, with peace and hope for all mankind.” The inscription on the plaque they left behind spoke of the completion of man’s “first explorations of the moon”.

Legend has it that the very last words spoken on the moon were Cernan’s: “Okay, Jack, let’s get this mother outta here.” And, with that, we returned the place to its 4.5 billion years of solitude.

Then, for another 35 years, nothing happened. British scientists laid bets on when we would return to the moon. All the dates on which they gambled have long gone. After the glories of the Apollo programme, humans, it seemed, were destined to do no more than spin around in low Earth orbit. Only robots would go into real space. But finally, George Bush, in 2004, said he wanted people back in space and, in December, Nasa revealed its “mission architecture” to establish a moon base and then to fly on to Mars. A human boot is scheduled once again to kick regolith – lunar dust – in 2020. And this time we plan to stay. “Unless disaster strikes the world,” says Ken Pounds, the grand old man of British space science, “this could be the great human endeavour of the 21st century.”

NI_MPU('middle');He speaks with feeling, for he comes from a deeply disappointed generation. They were inspired by the Apollo programme and expected human space exploration just to continue. Now he thinks we may have started too soon. “I spoke to Buzz Aldrin [the second man to walk on the moon] and he said the Apollo programme came too soon, the world wasn’t ready for it. It was very much part of the cold war, when Kennedy wanted to outdo the Russians in terms of prestige.”

In fact, it seems to be a similar impulse that has converted Bush to manned space exploration. India and China have made it clear they want to go to the moon and they undoubtedly have the technical capacity to do so. Russia, meanwhile, has, in the Soyuz rockets, the most reliable launchers in the world. Putin also seems to want to restart the cold war, and competing with America in space would be one way to do it. If only politically, it looks as though the US has to put boots back on the moon.

But there are other, better reasons. Robot exploration of the planets of the solar system has not delivered the scientific goods. Crucially, we still don’t know if the planet ever harboured life. Robots do dumb, routine tasks well, but they don’t improvise and can’t undertake large-scale engineering work like deep drilling.

Increasingly the scientists have become impatient. Two influential American scientists, Michael Malin and Kenneth Edgett, who last year announced the most persuasive evidence yet that there was water on Mars, have virtually issued a demand for renewed human exploration of space. “We’re constantly aggravated by the fact,” said Malin, “that all the questions we have about Mars could be answered by Ken and me if we could just walk around on the planet for a few days.”

And Ken Pounds was a member of a Royal Astronomical Society team that, in 2005, concluded that human space exploration is essential if we are to answer the big questions. “Scientific missions to the Moon and Mars,” the report said, “will address questions of profound interest to the human race. These include: the origins and history of the solar system; whether life is unique to Earth; and how life on Earth began. If our close neighbour Mars is found devoid of life, important lessons may be learned regarding the future of our own planet.”

Then, in December, Britain’s leading scientific body, the Royal Society, had a surprise guest: Dr Michael Griffin, the boss of Nasa since April 2005. Griffin is a big Winston Churchill fan, and an all-round Anglophile. The ostensible reason for his visit was to present the RS’s Copley Medal to another of his British heroes, Stephen Hawking. But the real reason was, he wanted to set Nasa’s manned missions to the moon and Mars in political concrete. Bush has committed to the missions and Congress had made them obligatory for Nasa. But Bush will be gone in 2008 and nobody can guess at the attitude of the next administration.

Griffin’s strategy, therefore, is to move as quickly as possible to get the moon-Mars project under way. International partners are vital, as they will make it more difficult for America to pull out.

And Griffin was specifically wooing the British. We could take part as members of the European Space Agency (ESA), but Griffin was looking for a bilateral deal (the US working only with Britain). His lecture to the Royal Society was a grand hymn of praise to the British exploratory heritage, invoking Churchill, Hawking (who has suggested he wants to make the journey into space), Captain Cook and John Harrison of longitude fame. “And so,” he said, “over many generations, the primary language of the United States came to be English and our dominant cultural traditions are derived from Great Britain… So my hope is, the English language will not only remain in common usage around the world, but will spread throughout the solar system over the course of the next century…”

We could get on board this linguistically imperial mission, the RAS team estimated, for about £150m a year over the next decade. Will we do it? “I think the answer is yes,” says the new science minister, Malcolm Wicks, “but it’s early days.” In fact, British government policy is not to fund manned space missions.

But Wicks is aiming to loosen this particular stranglehold on our scientists. “The government policy means we don’t want somehow to pretend that we can launch our own missions to the moon. But that’s to present our position in a negative way. We want to be encouraging a proper relationship with Nasa in terms of the things we do best – robots, astronomy, small satellite technology.”

But should we be pursuing this fantastically expensive – one estimate suggests it might cost $1 trillion to go to Mars – and risk-laden project? What is it for? What will we do? The space scientists are coming up with answers as if their lives depended on it, which, of course, they do.

The Nasa “architecture” is not, in principle, new. The primary rocket, the Ares V, will be a beefed-up version of the Saturn V and the procedure involving an Earth orbit, a lunar orbiter and lander will be almost identical to the Apollo missions, as will the procedure for the Mars mission. One big difference will be that the Ares V will be unmanned, launching cargo only, primarily the Orion, the spacecraft that will fly to and land on the moon. The long, slender Ares 1 – aka the Stick – will launch the crew into orbit to rendezvous with Orion. The other big difference will be scale. This system will deliver more astronauts to the moon for longer periods and will be able, over time, to construct a base there housing anything from half a dozen to, according to the most wildly optimistic forecasts, hundreds of people.

But this whole scheme has been subject to stinging criticisms as being wasteful, slow and old-fashioned. The author and aerospace engineer Robert Zubrin reckons he could get to Mars much quicker for only $50 billion. There might be a 30% chance that everyone would be killed, but mountaineers on Earth willingly take bigger risks. That’s what exploration is about. And one of the leading experts on Nasa’s methods and policies, Howard McCurdy of the American University in Washington, DC, fears they may be about to make a familiar mistake. “The purpose of going to the moon is to practise technologies that are necessary to get humans into the inner solar system… But by investing heavily in the first step, Nasa may be precluding the possibility of taking the second step.”

With both the Space Shuttle and the International Space Station (ISS), Nasa set itself tasks that ultimately overwhelmed the entire organisation. The Shuttle was costly, had two disastrous failures, and never lived up to the demands of its designers and political paymasters. Much the same can be said about the ISS.

Both were also intended to be stepping stones to outer space.

Now the ISS is to be abandoned by the Americans, who seem to be “tossing Europe the keys” – ESA alone has plans for attaching a science module. Peter Voorhees, an engineer at Chicago’s Northwestern University, sees folly in this. A lot of important science should have been done on the ISS involving, crucially, dealing with fires in space, but it has now been abandoned.

“We’re going ahead with a manned mission while losing out on very important research that will impact the exploration initiative.”

Furthermore, the use of traditional chemical rockets is seen as a backward step. We should be moving on to nuclear or ion drives; maybe even, as Hawking has suggested, exotic matter/antimatter collision systems. “We’re never going to get to Mars using chemical fuels,” says McCurdy. “It’s too slow. Nasa is talking about a 900-day mission. With a little more investment in propulsion technologies, we could do 100- or 200-day missions. With 900 days there’s so much back-up equipment, costs could rise as high as $1 trillion.”

Meanwhile, Griffin’s strategy will leave Nasa with an embarrassing four years when it won’t be able to launch people into space. The Shuttle is to be phased out in 2010 and the Ares-Orion system won’t be ready for flight until 2014. Aware of this, Nasa has awarded $500m worth of contracts under its Cots (Commercial off-the- Shelf) programme to develop cheap launching systems. This is an acknowledgment that the private sector may be able to find short cuts the public sector can’t even imagine. Jeff Bezos of Amazon has recently successfully tested a rocket christened Goddard. Richard Branson, via Burt Rutan’s cheap, light and utterly original rocket, will soon be offering space tourism and, using Soyuz, the company Space Adventures is working on a $100m round-trip ticket to take punters round the dark side of the moon. Some talk of lunar Winnebagos. Tourists would be dropped off, given a lunar rover to go where they liked, then picked up two weeks later.

Tourists on the moon before astronauts and scientists would be even more embarrassing than China getting back there first.

Okay, so Mars may be pricey and tricky, but the Americans are, it seems, definitely going back to the moon if only out of embarrassment. They will use tried and, leaving aside Apollo 13, trusted technology. With luck, we should end up with a permanent base there. So what will it be like and what will it do?

At the Open University, Colin Pillinger, the brilliant maverick of British space science and the man behind the ill-fated Beagle 2 Mars lander (named after the Beagle, the ship that the other Great British scientist Charles Darwin sailed on to the Galapagos Islands in the 1830s), is a Mars man to his bones. He thinks, like Zubrin, we could easily miss out the moon completely and just fly to Mars from Earth orbit. But now, at 63 and cruelly stricken by very-late-onset multiple sclerosis, he’ll make do with the moon.

He is sceptical of the suggestion that in the near future, the base could assemble rockets to fly to Mars and beyond. “It’s difficult enough building them here. We could transport and assemble then. But why not just do it in orbit?” But he does accept that the moon may be valuable as a rehearsal for Mars.

“We are going to rehearse the events and find out what it’s like living in an environment where you have to be totally shielded, with enormous temperature fluctuations – the psychology and physiology of all that. It’s not like Antarctica, where you can just get a helicopter in there.”

So the first big function of the base is to find out how to live in space. This is a notoriously complex business and The Man Who Knows is Kevin Fong. Fong is a very young-looking 35, and his day job is as an anaesthetist at University College Hospital in London. “But,” he says wistfully, “not many astronauts come into casualty.”

But he also studied astrophysics and he wants to be an astronaut. He is just the kind of person a moon programme would need: multiply qualified, fit and awesomely keen and focused. He knows the medical issues of space inside out.

The key issue is low gravity. The human body is built on the assumption that it will spend its entire time on the Earth’s surface and thus never experience any gravitational load more or less than 1G for any length of time. We know the effect of living in the zero G of orbit from astronauts who have stayed in the ISS and in the Russian Mir space stations. The body suffers bone loss and muscle wastage, but also increased difficulties with hand-eye co-ordination because the brain seems to use 1G as a means of calibration. What we don’t know is the prolonged effect of the one-sixth G on the moon and one-third G on Mars.

Fong wants to find out if there is some gravity threshold at which bad effects kick in. Or will we simply adjust temporarily?

Solutions may include a punishing exercise regime or some form of artificial gravity created by spinning the moon colonists around in a centrifuge. This may turn out to be a necessary – and heavy – piece of equipment on the moon base. Colonists would have to sit in this for a short period every day. “There are some groups,” says Fong, “who think that might be the answer.

These short-arm centrifuges spin at 40 times a minute. It’s quite a ride.”

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Blackleaf

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The second big problem is radiation. In low orbit, astronauts are protected from the heavy-particle radiation by the magnetosphere, the Earth’s magnetic field that deflects the particles. And as the moon missions have been of such short duration, we haven’t been able to study the effects of prolonged exposure. What we do know is that a solar flare might be fatal for any astronaut outside the magnetosphere. The flares send out bursts of all types of radiation. They are unpredictable – though they are associated with sunspots and there are known periods of more intense activity – but once they have happened, we can detect them and astronauts or colonists would have time to take cover.

Pillinger’s few metres of regolith would be enough to protect the colonists. But in transit, astronauts would have to be provided with a heavily shielded shelter in the spaceship. In both cases, a constant watch will have to be kept on the sun. Also on the moon, we would have to learn the logistics of keeping such a base going.

The current Antarctic base is one model, as was the failed but interesting Biosphere 2, an experiment to build a closed, self-sustaining living system in Arizona. Self-sustenance is the ideal.

In fact, the US talk-show host Jay Leno suggested the Bush policy to the moon base should be the same as that in Iraq:

“The president has announced that the base will be occupied only as long as is necessary for the moon dwellers to set up their own government.”

But the moon is dead and airless. It may also have no water, though there is some hope of ice beneath the surface. If there is no water, the first thing we will have to do is fly hundreds of tons of the stuff up there. Then we could start burning the regolith. This moon surface consists of billions of years’ worth of debris left by the solar wind, the particles sent out into space by the sun. Hydrogen and oxygen will be trapped in there and we could synthesise water from the regolith. This has been shown to be possible on Earth. With plenty of water, we could later build greenhouses and grow crops hydroponically.

The regolith could also be a source of power. Most speculatively, we could use the helium-3 known to be locked in there to build a fusion reactor. Helium-3 has now become a very hot topic. One Russian geologist, in best cold-war rhetoric, has warned that the Nasa moon mission will “enable the US to establish its control of the global energy market 20 years from now and put the rest of the world on its knees as hydrocarbons run out”.

This might fire up a few Russian poisoners but, on that timescale, it is, say the British scientists, wildly premature.

Helium-3 would be an efficient way to produce fusion power if we knew how to do it, but we don’t. Fusion has not worked on Earth yet as an efficient source of energy, and is not likely to do so for decades. Hydrogen would work, of course, but we would have to get it out of the regolith and build a power plant. Not easy. The moon is also known to be full of titanium, the light strong metal used to build rockets and military aircraft. In theory, we could set up a space engineering industry there, but this would be a long way down the line.

But having established ourselves on the moon, is there anything we could do there except go to Mars? The Man Who Knows in this case is Ian Crawford of the School of Earth Sciences in Birkbeck College, London, a man who makes you proud to be British. Crawford works in a gloomy office with rocks, countless drawers and half-dead spider plants in a corner of the UCL building in Bloomsbury. He has big brown shoes and a khaki shirt and, after almost every question, he leaps to his feet to find moon maps, rocks and academic papers or to write in livid red on a whiteboard, as much, I feel, to help him organise his teeming thoughts as to help me understand. Crawford seems to have stepped out of a 1950s sci-fi movie.

His big whiteboard demonstration is what science could be done on the moon. He writes three headings in red: lunar geology, astronomy and life sciences. Part of life sciences is covered by what we would do to survive on the moon; another part is the attempt to use lunar geology to answer the big question of how life began on Earth. The moon and the Earth are made roughly out of the same things. But less happens on the moon, so it is, in effect, a pristine geological history of the solar system. If you look at the moon, it has lighter and darker areas. The dark areas are the youngest, consisting of solidified seas of lava. The white areas are the oldest. They are the original crust of the moon, formed 4.5 billion years ago when the Earth-moon system was first born. No original crust remains on the Earth. It has been destroyed by weathering and the movement of the tectonic plates, the movements that shift continents and cause earthquakes. The moon offers, therefore, a model of Earth before life began.

Furthermore, there is a great mystery about life on Earth: how did it happen so quickly? For the first 200m or 300m years after the planet was formed, it was bombarded continually by meteorites that would have effectively sterilised the planet.

Yet we know of stromatolites – early evidence of biological activity – that date back 3.5 billion years. It must have taken millions of years to get to this point. So the window in which life must have begun is no more than a few hundred million years, a desperately short time for the necessary improbable series of accidents to have happened. Lunar geology might tell us something about how this occurred

And then it all gets really weird and exciting. Bits of the moon and Mars have, over the billennia, landed on Earth. Bits of Earth, therefore, will have landed on the moon. Beyond 3.5 billion years ago, we have no evidence of early life. But such evidence may be found on the moon. We may even find Mars rocks containing evidence of life. If so, the question of how life began on Earth could be answered.

Mars was a much more peaceful place in the millennia after the formation of the solar system. Life would have formed more easily there and subsequently made it to Earth on meteorites.

The moon could prove what some of us have expected all along: that we are Martians.

Kevin Fong is electrified by this idea. He thinks such discoveries would help us to fill in one more term of the famous Drake Equation, invented in the 1960s by the astronomer Frank Drake.

This is a way of calculating the likelihood of life on other planets. “The problem with the Drake Equation,” says Fong, “is it asks, not only does life live locally, but also does it have a phone and does it have our number?”

It asks, in short, more than we can answer. We have made progress with the equation, but we are stalled on the figure that represents the number of Earth-like planets that have life.

Finding out how life began on Earth – or Mars – would help us make a very educated guess on how many planets in the galaxy or, indeed, the universe, were likely to harbour living things.

The last of Crawford’s categories is astronomy. For astronomers the moon is really the only place to be. The far – “dark” – side is probably the best place in the solar system to set up a radio telescope, as it is shielded from the radio noise from Earth as well as from the sun. The case for optical telescopes is less certain. Current plans for the James Webb Space Telescope, the successor to the Hubble, are that in 2013 it should be placed at L2 – the Lagrange point at which the gravity of the Earth and sun neutralise each other. Objects placed here don’t move and a telescope would have a permanent 360-degree view of the heavens. The Hubble is constantly interrupted by the rotation of the Earth and a moon telescope would be similarly interrupted.

On the other hand, maintaining a moon telescope via a moon base would be much easier than looking after one at L2.

There’s one final reason to go back that is especially convincing for all the British moon nuts: space got them into science in the first place. But since Apollo 17, there hasn’t been much exciting space and fewer and fewer young people are going into science and engineering. We are facing a colossal science shortage in this country (the country that gave birth to the science of Geology, amongst others, and produced Darwin, Newton, Herschel and Hawking). But Ken Pounds says 90% of the space-science students at Leicester would leap at the chance to climb aboard a rocket, and all are convinced that a revitalised space programme would lure students back into science. Furthermore, one possible element of a bilateral deal with Nasa would be that the Americans, in exchange for our engineering expertise, would train British astronauts. Flying to the moon and Mars would be, for us, as justified educationally as it would be scientifically.

Finally, depressingly, I had to ask everybody about military applications. Pillinger imagines a moon base armed with nuclear missiles could be deployed as an ultimate deterrent – you may kill us all on Earth but we’d still have this nuke-laden guerilla force on the moon. But on the whole, it wouldn’t make sense.

Using current technology, a moon missile would take almost three days to reach its target. Existing submarine-launched missiles can hit almost anywhere on Earth in 30 minutes. Of course, that wouldn’t stop Chinese, Indian, Russian and American bases slugging it out on the moon, but one should only allow depression to go so far.

And, come on, returning to the moon isn’t depressing, it’s thrilling and, barring disasters, is going to happen. The Americans have concluded they have to go and they have the money and, dusting off the archives of the Apollo programme, they have the technology. But should we be involved at a cost of, say £150m a year for a decade or so?

Of course we should. These guys – Pounds, Pillinger, Crawford, Fong and Phil Diamond, the director of Jodrell Bank, who would help design the radio telescope – and many other British scientists are national treasures. They are worth every penny. They are explorers and engineers, two of the noblest human callings when not in the service of pride or evil.

So let’s go back and, maybe, find ourselves locked in the regolith, the ancient lunar dust, undisturbed since Commander Eugene Cernan told the pilot “Jack” Schmitt it was time to leave Serenity Base.


Out to launch

Pivotal moments in the history of lunar landings

August 9, 1976 Luna 24, unmanned, is the last of the Luna spacecraft probes sent to retrieve lunar soil. It picks up 170 grams of lunar sample, deposits it in a collection capsule, and returns it safely to Earth on August 22.

December 1972 The first football game is played on the moon when two astronauts, Eugene Cernan and Harrison ‘Jack’ Schmitt, kick a football-sized rock on the Apollo 17 mission. This was the last crewed landing on the moon.

July 1971 The Fallen Astronaut, a 3in figurine designed by Paul van Hoeydonck, is placed on the moon during Apollo 15. The statue, which can withstand the moon’s extremes of temperature, is accompanied by a plaque commemorating astronauts who died in training or space flights.

April 13, 1970 Two days after lift-off, the Apollo 13 mission is aborted when an oxygen tank explodes. The crew radios back to ground, coining the phrase ‘Houston, we have a problem.’

November 14, 1969 Apollo 12 is the first spacecraft to introduce pornography to the moon, when the backup crew sneaks Playboy centrefolds into the lunar checklists, and inserts them into the astronauts’ wristbands.

July 20, 1969 Neil Armstrong, the commander of Apollo 11, is the first person to set foot on the moon. Upon taking his first step he says: ‘That’s one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.

thetimesonline.co.uk
 
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