Guts vs. Glory

Enough said.

The Republican Smoothie

Last night’s CNBC debate between the GOP candidates in Michigan was truly revealing of each of the hopeful’s core beliefs and policy proposals.  It was one of the most substantive discussions that stuck mostly to major issues in memory.  Easy as it might be to rate their performances or score them by “points” earned (or lost, er… uhm… due to forgetfulness), my mind wandered to how voters could magically throw them all in a blender to make a more potent if tart-tasting Republican smoothie.

Bananas. It’s too bad that Ron Paul comes off as such an old flake, but his avowedly libertarian view of classical free market economics is at the core of post-Rockefeller Republican thought.  His central point, poorly put by his rambling responses last night, is fundamentally correct: Anytime the government enters any marketplace, it creates distortions that increase costs on top of the taxes raised to pay for the program.  Smoothies use bananas less for flavor than for viscosity and structure.  Ron Paul’s observation that markets are perverted by government is an indispensable ingredient.

Fiber. Newt Gingrich’s deep reservoir of fact-rich arguments that elevate typical conservative slogans to meaningful policy proposals ensure nutritional value for a country that is not just starving for new leadership, but is malnourished when it comes to sturdy solutions.  The smoothie is just an icy milkshake without stalks of celery or kale, and the former “third-in-line” to the presidency refuses to make small talk with voters.  His seriousness is breathtaking and his answers in last night’s debate were exhilarating, particularly in his illustration, using the College of the Ozarks’ work-study program, as a counterweight to whining about the fate of current student loan programs.

Apples and oranges. Herman Cain did not, thank goodness, need to resort last night to the “apples and oranges” argument he used clumsily in a previous debate to distinguish between his proposed national sales tax and state sales taxes.  But without apples and oranges thrown in for sweetness and tartness, smoothies can wind up tasting bland or bitter.  Mr. Cain’s 9-9-9 plan (which stands for a 9% corporate flat-tax, a 9% personal income flat-tax, and a 9% national sales tax) has caught fire not just for its simplicity and voter appeal, but because it upends the Washington apple cart.  As Mr. Cain points out, lobbyists, accountants and tax attorneys will be jobless if he wins.  Other (twice-higher) flat-tax proposals put forth by his GOP rivals don’t offer near the satisfaction, and debate watchers were thrilled to see Mr. Cain get back to talking about 9-9-9.

Strawberries, raspberries. Without making too little of Rick Santorum or Michelle Bachman, not every smoothie needs them.  Only the strawberries or raspberries feel so special about being included.  In a smoothie, berry flavors are quickly lost, leaving just their tiny little seeds to stick between your teeth. Santorum and Bachman shared a shrill quality last night, boasting that various legislative proposals they each had made qualified them best to be president— not because they were made law, but because they were clairvoyant.  Bragging “I told you so” is not a distinguishing policy strategy and it’s a really weak debate point.  Pick one or the other, or neither; they won’t be missed after Iowa.

Ice. Tempted as I may be to forget about Rick Perry after he so forcefully forgot the third agency of the federal government he would eliminate, a smoothie worth its name is impossible to make without adding ice cubes— knowing full-well they will get chopped up and melt in the blender.  Without enough ice, smoothies turn lukewarm and are no longer refreshing or enjoyable.  True, debates are not the full measure of a presidential candidate, and perhaps Perry is hiding non-rhetorical gifts we can’t see from watching his glassy-eyed expressions listening while other candidates speak.  With so much coolness he could yet offer, Perry’s the GOP ice man.

And speaking of being forgetful, how can Republicans please forget Mitt Romney and Jon Huntsman?  These two are easily the most adaptable flavors in the GOP field, consistent only by their purported thoughtfulness and openness to positions and policies no Republican would dare run on in a primary.  Both are also self-made candidates, that is, wealthy heirs who have decided, seemingly altruistic, to spend their fortunes in the name of public service.  Ideological positions are just not their strong suit.  One has implied Republicans prefer to be dumb when it comes to science, and the other insists he won’t do for America what he did while governor of Massachusetts.  Only one of them, Romney, stands a serious chance of winning the Republican nomination.

If he does in fact win the primaries, sticking to this analogy a final gasp, Romney will be but the paper cup—the untrustworthy vehicle, apologetically carrying the great Republican smoothie into the general election, devoid of any flavor of his own while Huntsman stands by as the eco-friendly, bio-degradable plastic straw.

Everything you need to know about space

This year marks my twentieth year in space.  In 1991 I was appointed to monitor NASA programs for the minority staff of the House Committee on Science, and quickly made myself at home in a warren of cubicles in the Rayburn House Office Building that housed the “Subcommittee on Space, Science and Applications” staff— scientists and engineers of one kind or the other— who each year examined the president’s budget proposal for NASA and write the “authorization of appropriations” bill.

As a Republican outsider with just a political science degree, I learned quickly that I had to learn quickly to keep up.  Briefings by NASA officials and aerospace companies on every space mission and program were regular, almost daily occurrences, chock full of technical terms and financial reporting nuances I had little familiarity with.  Each week or so, the Subcommittee would conduct hearings for Members of Congress to question agency officials on the progress of specific programs. My job was to brief Republican members on the subject matters before them, suggest thoughtful questions to ask witnesses, write “opening statements” that reflected the policy preferences of GOP members— all in order to create a written official “record” on which to base the program direction and budget levels to be enshrined in the annual NASA authorization bill. Lacking any prior frames of reference than simple political common sense, and envious of my staff colleagues’ apparent experience and technical knowledge, I approached learning on-the-job with great vigor.

Here, in summary form, is what I learned from 20 years "in space"...

1. No bucks, no Buck Rogers.  Though space is the quintessential existential human endeavor, it has a steep price, especially where human space travel is concerned.  If the US wishes to remain on the forefront of human space exploration, it must pledge the taxpayer resources to do so.  Too many times, companies who pretend to heed the call for “commercial” space alternatives to government-owned space systems, fall short closing the business case.  Whether they are simply pandering to the anorexic political will that quickly seizes on any space program that’s “free,” when push comes to shove, few are serious entrepreneurs and even fewer risk more than marketing money.
2. Until magic is harnessed, moving any amount of useful material (equipment, satellites, laboratories, inter-stellar spacecraft) reliably off the face of the earth into low-earth orbit is apt to remain highly expensive.  Without huge numbers of launches to lower average per-launch costs, no magic fuel has been invented that breaks gravity for much less than $11,000 per pound, making space access exclusive to purposes able to justify the threshold cost.  Even though operational improvements by commercial companies may cut marginal space launch costs by noticeable amounts, the physics still require transporting huge amounts of fuel weight every time. 
3. Private space tourism is essential to government space exploration.  Given the high reliability and consequent price tags for making useful manmade devices (upwards of $25,000 per pound) that might be catapulted to orbit in any given year, opening the market model to safely launch natural human beings, who in fact pay for their “rocket ticket,” is the only viable strategy for vastly increasing launch demand and vastly reducing average launch costs.
4. There is no substitute for the president.  Because we’re not talking about meeting an immediate crisis— say, an asteroid on a direct path towards Earth menacing human extinction— the only urgency for funding space exploration by the US government must come directly from the president.  It’s almost cliché to repeat John F. Kennedy’s speeches that staked his reputation on sending humans to the Moon (and returning them safely to Earth…before the decade was out), yet Kennedy’s leadership is only reason why the Apollo missions were funded and completed.
5. NASA is weak.  Without the president leading the charge into space, NASA can’t lobby itself out of a paper bag.  Notorious cost overages in major programs are routine, making the most positively predisposed president reluctant to push for a budget that can’t be reliably upheld.  Public confidence in government is low; government confidence in NASA is lower.
6. Congress is weak, too.  When it comes to NASA, Congressmen and Senators with the power of the purse dare not exceed the president’s imagination or budget requests.  In the current fiscal crisis of super-committees and mandatory automatic cuts to discretionary budgets, it is very tempting to let NASA suffer and not look back.  With the major operational program of NASA, the Space Shuttle, permanently retired from its books, the chances of NASA surviving Washington’s new thermal-vacuum austerity with any meaningful capacity are slim-to-none.
7. The public is already there.  Apart from adding financial demand for space tourism, the general public that buys billions of dollars a year worth of science fiction books, games, movies and so-forth, must make their consumer demands heard by politicians.  Their multi-billion dollar purchases fairly represent proven investments in scientific, futuristic curiosity and, I would argue, a significantly higher public investment in space exploration.
8. Space is not timeless.  When it comes to NASA, a precious, perishable resource is at stake.  Despite due criticism, there is no other bunch of people on Earth who has “done it”— “it” being the ability to land humans on another celestial body and get them back alive— and they are dying off.  Bridging between the generation of engineers and mission planners that did to a new generation that can only hope is worth every penny, lest the know-how and can-do be irreplaceably lost.  Time is short and the consequences of failing loom large.
9. Sell the program and the dreams will follow.  For all of its faults, the imposition of a national infrastructure for access to space is akin to building the national highway system or the modern internet.  When NASA has failed to sell its missions to Congress, it turns to selling the many interesting “spin-offs” that have resulted from space technology, some of them remarkable, but most of these are easier and more economically invented without carrying the whole NASA budget behind them.  If NASA is worth funding, sell the missions and the science to be realized, not the ancillary "spin-off" benefits.
10. Sell the dream and the programs will follow.  If we have anything to show for the Apollo project and the expenditure of 1 percent of GDP that it required, it is too large to be appreciated.  An exceptional generation of young people grew up 100% certain they would travel frequently to space and live in colonies established on the Moon.  When that did not happen because their government abandoned those dreams, the generation that frequently calls themselves the “Apollo Orphans” went on to do such trivial things as build the internet economy, personal computing, biotechnology and the mobile web.  Who knows what else this mathematics-friendly generation might have invented had their country kept going into space?