"Find the problem. Fix it. Fly again."
During the past few hours since that terrible February morning, we have all heard of this noble tradition among those who work to help man slip the surly bonds of earth. When one of their number perishes in the endeavor, the rest do all they can to see to it their comrade did not die in vain.
NASA is now following that noble tradition, diligently searching for the root cause of the catastrophe that took the Columbia's crew from us. And one of the questions they are asking is: Was Columbia's left wing compromised by debris striking it 80 seconds after lift-off?
NASA does not know for certain one way or the other, and may never know for certain.
But it ought to know. It could have known -- long before Columbia disintegrated during re-entry.
It could have known -- but for another tradition within NASA.
Years before Al Shepard soared away from Cape Canaveral atop a harshly vibrating Redstone rocket, a tradition was developing within NASA of making the astronaut as redundant as practicable in controlling the flight of manned spacecraft.
This tradition was not developing out of animus or envy towards the astronaut corp. It was developing as a matter of practicality, efficiency, mission requirements, and a natural bias among engineers in favor of the machine.
For their part, the astronaut corp have acted, traditionally, as a counter to this tradition. But the complex nature of the machine that carries them into space weighs against the astronaut as a continually active pilot of the spacecraft. And for all but a few minutes in any spaceflight the astronaut is a back-up component in the flight control system; many an astronaut aboard the spacecraft is merely a passenger, as far as flight control is concerned.
This traditional engineer's bias towards astronaut-as-back-up-component was very much in evidence during Columbia's last flight. It affected the entire structure of NASA's methodology in assessing the condition of the shuttle's thermal tiles from the instant the shuttle left the pad.
From the moment NASA became aware of the fact that something had struck Columbia's left wing during ascent the agency leaned away from involving the astronauts and towards relying on engineers in ascertaining the condition of the shuttle's thermal protection system. The agency's initial response was to begin an analysis of what might have happened to the tiles as a result of the debris impact -- an analysis based on guestimates about the size and weight and hardness and trajectory and speed of the debris.
And toward what ultimate end was this engineering guestimate undertaken? To determine whether a condition of risk to the crew probably existed that required NASA to modify the plan for a normal re-entry?
If this was the aim of the guestimate, what options existed for getting the crew home safely?
Was a rescue of some of the crew, and a time-buying provisioning for the rest, possible via a hastened launch of a Russian Soyuz?
Was an orbit change possible that could allow Columbia to rendevous with the Internation Space Station?
Was a time-buying provisioning possible by the Russian Progess vehicle that was already scheduled to be sent to the International Space Station in early February?
Was a wing-sacrificing re-entry scheme feasible given the compromised condition of Columbia's thermal protection system?
Would NASA have chosen any of these options without an eyeballing of the shuttle's left wing, either by an astronaut or by some telescopic means?
If not, then why did NASA wait on the results of the engineering guestimate, losing precious days to mount a rescue or re-entry modification in the event the guestimate indicated the wing was catastrophically compromised?
The answer is that the traditional bias towards astronaut-as-back-up-component had led NASA to omit training and properly equiping the astronauts to inspect the thermal tiles on the underside of the shuttle while on orbit. Consequently, the risk the atronauts would have had to assume in order to go over the side of Columbia and eyeball the thermal tiles was significantly increased. If the thermal tiles proved to be relatively undamaged and one or more of the astronauts was lost during the now relatively riskier inspection, or if an astronaut caused significant damage to some tiles during the inspection, NASA management would come under a lot of fire.
Therefore, NASA thought it more prudent to wait for the engineering guestimate than to immediately ask an astronaut to take a risky look at the tiles. And as it happened, the engineering guestimate concluded that it was unlikely the thermal tiles were catastrophically compromised.
So, no one bothered to look at Columbia's left wing while the ship was on orbit.
We don't yet know whether the debris that struck Columbia's left wing during ascent is the root cause of the catastophe that befell Columbia's crew on February 1st -- whether the shedding of that debris is the problem NASA is now diligently looking for in order to fix so we can fly again.
But another problem that needs fixing has already been discovered -- NASA's reluctance to use the astronauts more fully in assessing the condition of the shuttle's thermal protection system while on orbit.
NASA needs to fix this problem, as well as whatever problems it finds, before we fly again.
They owe it to Columbia's fallen crew, and to all the brave souls who will venture into space after them.