Discretionary Space
The main trouble with NASA is how they specialize in what I call discretionary space. Comsats don’t work this way — they gin up a bottom-line analysis and business plan — then execute the plan. The military in its various space tentacles cites national security objectives (in most cases), and the money is pretty much there without a fuss.
What does NASA do that’s so easily justified?
Sending people to the ISS or to the Moon and beyond is not a business nor a national security priority. I’m not saying there’s no justification for NASA’s list of missions. It’s just that they’re justified the way I might justify a summer vacation — not how I might justify a new job. I need a job that matches my skill set. I need to live in a relatively safer town. A vacation can happen just about anywhere we want — and where we choose for a destination is almost entirely a matter of discretion.
Clearly, I benefit from a vacation. Yet whether I sit on a beach in Maine or one down on Cape doesn’t make much difference — except perhaps to those trying to make a living in the vacation cottage rental business in those places.
So when NASA is trying to decide where THEY want to go, there is no limit to the choices and for the most part no one thing is obviously justifiable head and shoulders above anything else.
If anyone has ever convened a family meeting on where the next summer vacation will happen they have a profound taste for the difficulties involved in discretionary spending decisions. We work this out fairly easily mainly because there are so few people involved in the decision and not too many choice to process.
For NASA (and its constituencies), ‘family’ members number into the millions and the possible missions they propose also numbers into the millions as a result. They can’t possibly really ferret this out, so despite the official-sounding hoops and decision matrices they essentially wind up tossing darts, since for the most part, in the bigger picture of life what they have for a policy structure will pretty much result in just about the same caliber of results.
The problem with a trip to Mars is like a middle class family wanting to embark on a three-month world cruise. That’s when somebody needs to stand up and say that as a family we don’t have the money for that. Such grand plans for discretionary spending no matter how desirable — if too far beyond the bounds of reality — will remain a pipe dream.
I write NASA proposals all the time. My hit rate is pretty good, yet I’m never sure if it was my writing or simply a coincidence that my proposal was read on a Monday morning versus a Friday afternoon. With no business or national security at stake, my proposal justifications are usually and probably no better than anyone else’s.
Many families set aside a vacation budget. They may actively research destinations or simply stumble across ideas. Yet for the most part their budget determines the scope of vacation possibilities. Rather than staying home because we can’t afford a three-month world cruise, we instead drive to Cape Cod for the week since we have enough money for that. Along the way we stop for lunch pretty much when we’re hungry and pick a beach close enough to reach on foot if possible. We enjoy our vacation. Then we go home. Where we go next summer has almost nothing to do with where we went last summer. When proposal time comes around, we start all over from the beginning.
This is how NASA views it’s mission, whether they say so or not.
And that is why their message is so often garbled.
