Taking Science to the Moon: Lunar Experiments and the Apollo Program (review)

The National Aeronautics and Space Administration's history program is nearly as old as the space agency itself. Ever since NASA's inception in the late 1950s, senior managers have believed that it was in the agency's best interest to keep the public informed and that this informed public would in turn be supportive of its ambitious agenda. NASA's history office has sent historians into the "field" to be part of project teams and catch that first-person perspective, and it has also solicited books from project participants. Homer Newell, Robert Seamans, John Naugle, and others have ably captured the spirit and flavor of space exploration from the perspective of the players. While Donald Beattie's Taking Science to the Moon was not actively solicited by NASA, Roger Launius, the agency's chief historian, quickly recognized the value of his account and included it in the New Series in NASA History.

Self-described as a minor actor in the Apollo program, Beattie is a geologist by training who closely followed the early space program from the Columbian rain forests where he worked for Mobil Oil. Inspired by the news that NASA was interested in lunar exploration, he offered his services to help plan for these missions. In the fall of 1963, he began his ten-year NASA career at NASA headquarters; his first job was to plan extended-stay and lunar base missions. Beattie shows us his offices, introduces us to his colleagues and bosses, and takes us on field journeys. His rich descriptions of his surroundings and the people with whom he worked add texture that can come only from someone who lived the experience.

Upon arriving at NASA headquarters, Beattie quickly learned of the tension between advocates for the inclusion of a serious scientific component on Apollo missions and engineers with tight deadlines. President John F. Kennedy's promise to land a man on the moon and return him safely before the end of the 1960s did not include an agenda for science. However, NASA proposed one—for observing lunar phenomena, collecting representative samples of lunar material, and placing monitoring equipment on the moon—and Beattie was responsible for seeking opportunities for increased scientific involvement on manned missions. He writes that in the early days NASA staff members were "given great freedom to attack whatever problem they uncovered, without bureaucratic red tape and worry about turf" (p. 30), but repeatedly indicates that this was not always how things worked out, especially as the field centers and headquarters sparred with one another over responsibilities for the many layers of the complex Apollo program, including managing science.

Beattie lived through the political and budget maneuvers that dashed hopes for a post-Apollo program of lunar exploration. He witnessed calls for Apollo to be canceled once it had been demonstrated that crews could reach the moon. The goal of ten lunar missions of short duration was decreased to seven, and one of them failed. The large team of scientists, representing several disciplines, regarded Apollo as an opportunity not to be missed. But for the author, as for most of the scientists, it was also an opportunity not taken to its full potential. In addressing the failure of national leadership that led to the premature termination of the Apollo program, Beattie does not mince words. Neither does he minimize the accomplishments of "people of goodwill, working together" to solve difficult problems (p. 274).

Taking Science to the Moon describes the scientific objectives, the accomplishments, and the problems of each Apollo mission. Beattie's stories—about spacesuit development, astronaut training, management briefings, and the partnership with the U.S. Geological Survey—are full of humor and detail. He doesn't just take us to the moon, he takes us to his backseat row at senior management briefings, to the roof...