Spying from Space: Constructing America's Satellite Command and Control Systems (review)

Spying from Space is a frustrating book, and that frustration begins with the misleading title. It is not about spy satellites. Instead, it is about the development of command-and-control systems for satellites in orbit, including spy satellites. Back at the dawn of the space age the people who controlled satellites referred to their work as "the 200 mile screwdriver," meaning the ability to make corrections to an object that is 200 miles away and traveling at high speeds. That would have been a more appropriate title for David Christopher Arnold's book.

Unfortunately, the frustration does not end with Arnold's title. The most common problem is that programs, people, and technologies are mentioned and discussed without adequate preparation. It is as if the chapters of the book were somehow rearranged, with the necessary explanations moved to the back. An example of this can be found on page 50, where Arnold refers to "Philco integrator Althouse." Althouse is mentioned again on page 52, but it is not until page 126 that we learn about his job description and that his full name is Howard Althouse. That is annoying with a person, but far more problematic with subjects such as the increasingly complicated bureaucracy that was developed to manage satellite intelligence. Programs and organizations are introduced incompletely, and in pieces. For someone with extensive knowledge of the American military space program, this is jarring. For someone who does not know the subject at all, it will be very confusing.

The book would have benefited from a straightforward, concise description of the early development of command and control. Where were the first ground stations established? How many of them were there? When was the organization created that was charged with running them? Who did it report to? How did the satellite control network expand and evolve over time? How did the air force conceal the connections between the public satellite control network and the highly classified satellites that it operated?

What the book is also lacking is a theme that runs throughout. What does the development of command and control of satellites tell us? What can we learn from it? One of the early chapters makes some mention of social construction of technology, but seems to imply that because all organizations are composed of people, they are all socially constructed. A theme does emerge late in the book—the clash between the research-and-development community that wanted to "perfect" the control network, and the operators, who wanted to press it immediately into service—but not soon enough to hold the entire narrative together.

The strength of Spying from Space lies in the quality of its information. An account of the early military weather satellite program, which was highly classified, appears in print here essentially for the first time. Arnold also conducted a number of interviews with participants in the development of command and control, but most impressive is the access he gained to a large cache of hitherto untapped documents and photographs at Air Force Space Command in Colorado Springs, the unit responsible for tracking and controlling air force spacecraft. There is no index to this material and there are no facilities for research. Because classified and unclassified documents are mixed together, only someone with a security clearance would have had a chance of obtaining access. Arnold did, and he provides a tantalizing glimpse of this material. But one wishes that the results of this unique access had been better presented.