NASA's real-life "Don't Look Up"

ENTERTAINING and a bit worrying at the same time, the movie Don’t Look Up defied critics and broke Netflix’s record for the most hours viewed in a single week on the global TV platform at the start of the year.

It tells the story of astronomy graduate Kate Dibiasky (Jennifer Lawrence) and her PhD adviser, Dr Randall Mindy (Leonardo DiCaprio), who discover a “planet killer” comet that will impact Earth in just over six months.

The movie’s rogue comet could be anything – climate change, new viruses, global war, attempts to overthrow a legitimate democracy – and the scientists are essentially alone
with their knowledge, ignored and gas-lighted by society, and ridiculed by the media.

The film is both amusing and terrifying in equal measure, conveying uncomfortable cold truths and demonstrating how hard it is to break through prevailing norms.

Above all, it perfectly captures humanity’s apparent capacity for denying the blindingly obvious, the absurdity of an economic system which puts profit above survival of life on earth, a crass political class, and a superficial mainstream media more concerned with show biz stars and ratings.

Don’t Look Up is most definitely a movie for our time. And do hang around to watch all the credits as there are some interesting bits right at the very end! 

In real life, the NASA-funded Asteroid Terrestrial-impact Last Alert System (ATLAS) - a state-of-the-art asteroid detection system operated by the University of Hawaiʻi (UH) Institute for Astronomy (IfA) for the agency’s Planetary Defense Coordination Office (PDCO) - reached a new milestone in February by becoming the first survey capable of searching the entire dark sky every 24 hours for near-Earth objects (NEOs) that could pose a future impact hazard to Earth.

Now involving four telescopes, ATLAS has expanded its reach to the southern hemisphere from the two existing northern-hemisphere telescopes on Haleakalā and Maunaloa in Hawai’i to include two additional observatories in South Africa and Chile.

“An important part of planetary defence is finding asteroids before they find us, so if necessary, we can get them before they get us” said Kelly Fast, NEO Observations Program Manager for NASA’s Planetary Defense Coordination Office.

“With the addition of these two telescopes, ATLAS is now capable of searching the entire dark sky every 24 hours, making it an important asset for NASA’s continuous effort to find, track, and monitor NEOs.”

Each of the four ATLAS telescopes can image a swath of sky 100 times larger than the full Moon in a single exposure. The completion of the two final telescopes, which are located at Sutherland Observing Station in South Africa and El Sauce Observatory in Chile, enable ATLAS to observe the night sky when it is daytime in Hawai‘i.

To date, the ATLAS system has discovered more than 700 near-Earth asteroids and 66 comets, along with detection of 2019 MO and 2018 LA, two very small asteroids that actually impacted Earth.

The system is specially designed to detect objects that approach very close to Earth - closer than the distance to the Moon, about 240,000 miles away. On 22 January, ATLAS-Sutherland in South Africa discovered its first NEO, 2022 BK, a 100 m asteroid that poses no threat to Earth.

The addition of the new observatories to the ATLAS system comes at a time when the agency’s Planetary Defense efforts are on the rise. 

NASA’s Double Asteroid Redirection Test (DART) - the world’s first full-scale mission to test a technology for defending Earth against potential asteroid impacts - launched last November will deflect a known asteroid, which is not a threat to Earth, to slightly change the asteroid’s motion in a way that can be accurately measured using ground-based telescopes.

Additionally, work on the agency’s Near-Earth Object Surveyor space telescope (NEO Surveyor) is underway after receiving authorisation to move forward into Preliminary Design. 

Once complete, the infrared space telescope will expedite the agency’s ability to discover and characterise most of the potentially hazardous NEOs, including those that may approach Earth from the daytime sky.

Rocketing climate change

 

THE prospect of large-scale space tourism has mostly been the stuff of science fiction until this summer when, after years of effort and millions of dollars in investment, the exploits of businessmen Sir Richard Branson and Jeff Bezos bore fruit.

The billionaire blast-offs in July delivered a high-octane start to 21st century tourism and Virgin Galactic, founded in 2004, is reporting a waiting list of 8,000 for its space jaunts.

While the carefully choreographed and publicity-rich suborbital hops of Branson and Bezos caught the public imagination, the flights also drew attention to a potential downside of space tourism.

Taking place shortly before publication of the Sixth Assessment Report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), the flights were a perfect juxtaposition for social media commentators - a couple of billionaires joy-riding in space on the back of climate change delivering unprecedented levels of extreme weather.

The IPCC report summarises a worrying scientific consensus: climate change is happening, humans are causing it, even our best efforts cannot prevent negative effects, and reducing emissions now is essential to preventing catastrophic consequences.

And so the environmental impact of space tourism flights, whether in the fuels themselves or the carbon footprint of support services and travel to launch sites, rightly came under the spotlight.

Space technologies and activities are foundational to climate science. Satellite-based data monitoring plays a significant part in tracking and building up the big picture around anthropogenic climate change. In addition, technology transfer from space-led developments can support a faster transition to cleaner energy, as was the case for photovoltaic panels which laid foundations for the solar industry.

The challenge facing space entrepreneurs, scientists and engineers is to continue to provide answers while not contributing to the problem. Though carbon emissions from rockets are relatively small compared with the aircraft industry they are increasing at nearly six percent a year.

Emissions from rockets affect the upper atmosphere most, which means they can remain in situ for two to three years. And even water injected into the upper atmosphere - where it can form clouds - has the potential to add to global warming.

Bezos boasts his Blue Origin rockets are greener than Branson’s VSS Unity. The Blue Engine 3 (BE-3) uses liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen propellants. VSS Unity uses a hybrid propellant comprised of a solid carbon-based fuel, hydroxyl-terminated polybutadiene (HTPB), and a liquid oxidiser, nitrous oxide (laughing gas). In contrast, Elon Musk’s SpaceX Falcon F9 rockets use the more traditional liquid kerosene and liquid oxygen.

Large quantities of water vapour are produced by burning the BE-3 propellant, while combustion of both the VSS Unity and Falcon fuels produces carbon dioxide, soot and some water vapour. The nitrogen-based oxidiser used by VSS Unity also generates nitrogen oxides, compounds that contribute to air pollution.

Virgin Galactic anticipates it will offer 400 spaceflights each year. Blue Origin has yet to confirm numbers and SpaceX, though mainly flying commercial customers, has announced plans to send Japanese billionaire Yusaku Maezawa on a private trip around the Moon and back.

Globally, rocket launches wouldn’t need to increase by much from the 100 or so performed each year at present to induce harmful effects that are ‘competitive’ with other sources.

There are currently no regulations around rocket emissions and, given the challenges facing every other human activity, this must change. While millionaires are queuing to buy their tickets to ride, the time for the space industry and regulatory bodies to act is now.

This Editorial was first published in ROOM Space Journal (#29), Autumn 2021.

Cabinet shuffle

Gulf News

 

THE international stock of UK prime minister Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson is becoming diminished by the week and taking with it the last shreds of moral and political authority that Britain once had.

In all the political conflicts of pandemic mis-management and Brexit elitism, it seems that, in the mind of the British PM, what matters most is the pursuit of power. He has always been single-minded to this end and does all he can to resist constraints on that power.

Johnson, who is widely regarded by those who know or have worked with him, to have the attention span of a nat, is not interested in policy, let alone policy detail. He waivers constantly, in tune with nothing more than the shifting wind of opinion, and has no convictions about things that really matter such as Brexit, climate change, levelling up, culture wars or tackling poverty.

Apart from himself, all he cares about is how policy plays with the Tory Party, its supporters and the voters, many of whom he has hoodwinked into thinking he is something much more than he is.

All this helps to explain some of the sackings in this week’s cabinet reshuffle, because ministers whose stock has fallen with the venerable Party become vulnerable, regardless of their abilities.

The prime duty of Johnson’s replacements this week is hardly to deliver a particular agenda, but to keep themselves, and the Party, popular in readiness for the next election.

At the risk of re-stating what is now becoming patently obvious, the key things driving the Johnson government are riches for the already super wealthy, Party and Tory donor management, all aligned with increasing control of Parliament, the courts and the media.

From Johnson’s myopic perspective the cabinet reshuffle was intended to portray energy (working tirelessly, getting on with the job) and renewal. But, in the real world, all that happened was the removal of the least popular members of his team, which was also a non-damaging way to shift people who should have been sacked for incompetence and breaking rules long ago.

It was also a way for Johnson to ensure he is surrounded by an increasingly sycophantic protection ring.

This then folks is the guy that is leading the UK to a populist, ideological disaster, a nightmare world that will make a few dangerous people very wealthy and all too powerful.

Evening observation

 

Across the darkened waves - inspiration for a short piece of descriptive prose.

THE sea is talking loudly this evening as a strong northerly wind whips in, mysteriously summoned by the rising dusk to herald an end to the tranquillity and heat of the day.

Wind and sea together - like a rogue orchestra’s out-of-control percussionists, one drumming relentlessly and the other crashing wave upon wave on the outlying rocks of the sandy cove.

Gone was the gentle nature of a bright and warm sunny day. The quickly fading light had drained the sea of its shimmering daytime blue and turned it to the colour of darkest ink, aside from grey flecks of curling white foam from the breaking waves.

A few miles across the ocean on the near horizon the mountains of Albania formed a grey silhouette, all definition of daylight gone save for the outline of peaks and valleys, neatly framing the edge of sea and sky, and leading the eye to a fading red-orange glow in the west.

On the roadside path above Saint Spiridon cove in the north of Corfu, there seemed no respite from the relentless, discomforting disturbance these twin forces of nature had connived to deliver on this first September evening of the year.

There was no relaxed promenading tonight by lovers hand-in-hand, young or old, and the neatly organised chairs and tables overlooking the beach area and normally packed by day, were devoid of occupation.

Above, the wind whipped the finger-like leaves of palm trees into a frenzy of straight lines, seemingly all intent on pursuing a single direction of pointless travel. 

And the blowsy sun umbrellas of the day were now tightly belted at the waist, rocking and billowing in windy gusts, like solo dancers performing on the edge of night.

Corfu, September 2021

Sustainability lifeline

 

 

SPACE is a resource to be exploited for the benefit of all and undoubtedly holds many of the keys to humanity’s future. But though it might appear boundless and infinite it will not ultimately be to our advantage if we do not manage it in a sustainable way.

One of the most significant issues is the accumulation of space debris and, in this context, the first months of 2021 witnessed an unprecedented number of rocket launches. SpaceX alone notched up some 20 Falcon 9 launches between January and the end of May, a notable achievement in itself.

What is less clear, given the majority of these launches carried payloads of multiple smallsats to feed the company’s planned 12,000-strong Starlink constellation, is how much they are exacerbating the growing and still largely unaddressed debris problem.

There are still many unknowns relating to the proliferation of objects in Earth orbit, a fact that was highlighted by presentations at the annual European Space Debris Conference held virtually at the end of April [2021].

One paper identified a potential link between space junk and climate change - increasing levels of carbon dioxide could be lowering the density of the upper atmosphere, which may diminish the natural process whereby low Earth orbiting debris is naturally pulled downwards before it incinerates in the thicker, lower atmosphere.

Scientists studying this unexpected link between climate change and space debris propagation speculate that, in a worst case scenario, it could lead to increased orbital lifetimes of up to 40 years.

This could boost the amount of space debris as much as 50 times by the end of the century.
Such findings may heap further difficulties on the already complex problems faced by regulators wrestling with satellite operators amidst the headlong rush to deploy megaconstellations by the likes of SpaceX, Amazon and OneWeb in the west, as well as the Russian Sfera and Chinese Hongyan systems.

So how do we make space and our activities in it sustainable? Up to now the rules and regulations governing this are relatively weak. 

To be effective, space law regulations - backed by monitoring and a means of enforcement - must prevent as many potentially dangerous situations as possible from occurring. Legislation also needs to lay out a framework for responsibility and liability for when things go wrong.

Space law has largely worked so far because any issues have been few and far between and, on the whole, have been dealt with diplomatically.

As global populations grapple with the daily effects of climate change and pollution, the lessons of how we have mismanaged the environment and its resources are plain to see.

The same is true for space, even if the outcomes of our inactions today may only become apparent in the future.

While space sustainability has been a topic of discussion among academics and technologists for decades, the importance of protecting Earth’s orbital environment and the expanding sphere of our new domain has never been more relevant.

In the absence of robust, internationally agreed and long-term sustainability laws and guidelines, it is doubtful that commercial space companies, and some state players, can be relied on to police themselves in the space realm.

The questions surrounding space debris and the threat it poses become more urgent with every launch and, at present, the solutions on any level are far from certain. Now is the time to make sustainability a priority.

This Editorial by Clive Simpson was first published in ROOM Space Journal (#28), Summer 2021.

Flying to the edge

A FEW years ago while attending the annual Space Symposium in Colorado Springs as part of the ROOM Space Journal team I had the opportunity to sit inside a full-scale pre-flight module of Blue Origin’s space capsule.

It was on display outside the venue alongside a flown Blue Origin New Shepard booster, charred and scared from an earlier brief foray into low Earth orbit and so giving the whole display of touch of authenticity and realism.

Having clambered awkwardly through the access hatch and then across to my capsule seat I lay back and dared to think for a moment that this might be real. As my imagination fired the booster rockets I pushed back into my contoured couch before taking a quick look around.

There were five other passengers also likely lost in their own imaginary thoughts in what seemed a surprisingly simple but spacious space capsule. Big windows were aside each seat but the capsule was devoid of controls, buttons or levers that one might have imagined.

That’s because a Blue Origin flight differs from the Virgin Galactic mission in a few ways. Richard Branson uses a spaceplane with a pair of pilots onboard, whereas the Blue Origin capsule has no pilots (more space for paying passengers) and is be completely controlled by mission control on the ground.

Prior to today’s (Tuesday, 20 July) launch with passengers, Blue Origin has conducted 15 test flights - all spectacular in a very “Thunderbirds Are Go” kind of way but so far without any people on board, just a few experiments and plenty of data gathering instrumentation.

Just like the Virgin Galactic flight, the Blue Origin rocket will not launch its occupants into Earth orbit, but will give the crew a quick trip just above the line separating the atmosphere from space before returning back to the desert in western Texas. The Blue Origin mission will, however, fly at little higher to 62 miles high, compared to Virgin Galactic’s 55 miles.

Bezos’ landmark  10 minute flight is set to fly at 9:00 am EDT (14:00 BST), a date that that coincides with the 52nd anniversary of the Apollo 11 Moon landing. He is being accompanied by his brother Mark and two other passengers - 82-year-old trailblazing aviator Wally Funk and 18-year-old Dutch physics student Oliver Daemen - who will each break longstanding astronaut age records on the flight.

Oliver’s father, Joes Daeman - the chief executive and founder of Somerset Capital Partners - was one of the bidders for a seat on the first crewed Blue Origin flight but lost out to an anonymous bidder who paid a reported $28 million at the widely publicised auction.

After a “scheduling conflict” prevented the unidentified winner from joining the first flight, Daeman, who had secured a seat on the second New Shepard flight, was bumped up to take pole position.
       
Be under no delusion this is very much a commercial venture. Daeman’s flight will mark the start of paid space-tourism flights for Blue Origin and there are plans to loft the second round of paying passengers this autumn.

"We intend to have two more flights this year, in 2021, for a total of three [crewed] flights, and many more to come in the future," said Ariane Cornell, Blue Origin's director of astronaut sales, during a press conference in advance of the first flight. "We have already built a robust pipeline of customers that are interested." 

 For both Branson and Bezos one question remains. Will these brief and expensive trips to the edge of space they offer be consigned to the category of joyrides and a series of ‘selfies’ for the family album, or will they prove more meaningful?

The question is legitimate because, since the days of Apollo when astronauts Bill Anders, Jim Lovell and Frank Borman became the first to witness a full Earth against the backdrop of space, astronauts are unanimous that viewing our planet from space is life-changing.

Earthrise, the iconic image snapped by Anders, is often credited as spawning the environmental movement and Space Shuttle and Space Station astronaut Nicole Stott agrees, ascribing the impact of viewing Earth from space as an astronaut’s “Earthrise moment”. .

In her forthcoming book Back to Earth (to be published on 11 November 2021) Stott inspires readers of all backgrounds and beliefs to come together to tackle our planet's most pressing problems - from water insecurity and pollution to the existential threat of climate change.

Seeing Earth from space for the first time, Stott was overcome by a realisation that moved her deeply. “This brilliant blue marble, shielded from the cold emptiness of space by only its razor-thin atmosphere, is a naturally existing system perfectly designed to support human life,” she writes.

The benefits of tourists flights to the edge of space may yet prove great indeed if those onboard experience their own “Earthrise moment”.

 Note: the launch can be viewed live via Blue Origin

Carrying the Fire

GEMINI and Apollo astronaut Michael Collins died on 28 April 2021 at the age of 90 after a valiant battle with cancer. This day also marked the 64th wedding anniversary between Mike and his late wife, Patricia Finnegan Collins.

Mike Collins possessed a sharp wit, a quiet sense of purpose and a wise perspective, gained both from looking back at Earth from the vantage of space and gazing across calm waters from the deck of his fishing boat.

As the command module pilot on NASA's Apollo 11 mission, he circled the Moon while Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin touched down at Tranquility Base on 20 July 1969. When his two crew mates returned from the surface, he was in the unique position to capture a photo of all of humanity - his fellow astronauts on board the lunar module and everyone else on Earth off in the distance.

“Today the nation lost a true pioneer and lifelong advocate for exploration in astronaut Michael Collins,” acting NASA administrator Steve Jurczyk said in a statement. “As pilot of the Apollo 11 command module – some called him ‘the loneliest man in history’ – while his colleagues walked on the Moon for the first time, he helped our nation achieve a defining milestone.”

A member of NASA's third group of astronauts selected in 1963, Mike’s path to joining the first Moon landing began with a three-day flight in Earth orbit. Assigned as the pilot aboard Gemini 10, he launched with John Young in July 1966 on a mission that demonstrated rendezvous and docking with two rocket stages.

Mike performed two spacewalks on Gemini 10, becoming only the fourth person to exit a spacecraft to work in the vacuum of space and the first to conduct two on the same mission. On his second extravehicular activity (EVA), he became the first astronaut to transfer to another vehicle, retrieving a cosmic dust collector from the exterior of an earlier launched Agena target stage.

After Gemini 10, Mike was assigned to what was slated to be a test of the complete Apollo spacecraft in Earth orbit (that flight, Apollo 8, later was changed to be the first mission to send humans into orbit around the Moon). In the course of his training, though, he developed problems with his legs and ultimately required surgery to correct for a cervical disc herniation.

Given the time needed for his recovery, he was removed from the crew and reassigned to Apollo 11. He was very happy to be part of the Apollo 11 crew - even if he was not one of the moonwalkers.

"It's one of the questions I get asked a million times, 'God, you got so close to the Moon and you didn't land. Doesn't that really bug you?' It really does not," he said.

"I honestly felt really privileged to be on Apollo 11, to have one of those three seats. I mean, there were guys in the astronaut office who would have cut my throat ear to ear to have one of those three seats. I was very pleased to have one," he said. "Did I have the best of the three? No. But was I pleased with the one I had? Yes! And I have no feelings of frustration or rancor or whatever. I'm very, very happy about the whole thing."

Having decided before Apollo 11 lifted off that it would be his last mission, Mike splashed down from the Moon having accumulated a total of 11 days, two hours and four minutes in space over the course of his two flights.

Mike Collins was born on 30 October 1930, in Rome, Italy, where his father, a career US Army officer,was stationed. After moves from Oklahoma to New York to Maryland to Ohio to Puerto Rico to Texas to Virginia, he attended St Albans preparatory school in Washington, DC. He then received an appointment to the US Military Academy at West Point, New York, where Mike earned his Bachelor of Science in 1952.

Enlisting in the Air Force, Mike was trained on and flew F-86 fighter jets out of Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada and George Air Force Base in California, before being assigned overseas to the Chambley-Bussières Air Base in France and to West Germany during the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. He returned to the U.S. the following year, where he attended an aircraft maintenance officer course and then commanded a mobile training detachment, traveling to air bases around the world.

In 1960, Mike reported to the Air Force Experimental Flight Test Pilot School (later Aerospace Research Pilot School) at Edwards Air Force Base in California. He applied for NASA's second class of astronauts but was not selected.

Instead, in 1962, he took a postgraduate course on the basics of spaceflight, which included flying F-104 supersonic jets to 90,000 feet (27,000 m) and training in weightlessness on parabolic flights. He graduated and returned to fighter operations at Randolph Air Force Base in Texas when he was accepted with the third group of NASA astronauts.

Prior to flying on Gemini 10, Mike's first assignment was to specialise in the development of the programme's spacesuits. He then served as backup pilot for the Gemini 7 mission. Prior to the 1967 Apollo 1 fire, which claimed three astronauts' lives, he was training for the then-planned second crewed flight of the Apollo program. In the wake of the tragedy, the mission was cancelled.

Although he did not fly on Apollo 8 due to needing surgery, Mike still played an important role on the 1968 mission, serving as CapCom, or capsule communicator, from inside Mission Control in Houston. It was Mike who informed the crew that they were good to break the bonds of Earth’s gravity and set course for the moon with the words “Apollo 8, you are go for TLI!” (TLI stood for trans-lunar injection).

After Apollo 11 and spending 21 days in quarantine to protect against any possible "Moon germs," riding in ticker tape parades in New York and Chicago, attending a state dinner, addressing a joint meeting of Congress and touring 22 countries in 38 days, Mike resigned from NASA in January 1970.

Recruited by the Nixon Administration, Mike accepted a position as Assistant Secretary of State for Public Affairs, but found he did not enjoy the job and left after a year to become thefirst director of the Smithsonian Institution's National Air and Space Museum.

Mike advocated for its funding and oversaw the museum being built once its budget was approved by Congress. He presided over the museum's opening on July 1, 1976, when his Apollo 11 command module, Columbia, and many of his own personal effects flown on the mission went on public display.

In addition to Carrying the Fire, he authored Flying to the Moon and Other Strange Places, Liftoff! The Story of America's Adventure in Space and Mission To Mars: An Astronaut's Vision Of Our Future.

Of all the honours he received, Mike was most proud to be named a Fellow in the Society of Experimental Test Pilots, the prestigious international society founded in 1955 that represents the men and women who advance aerospace vehicles through flight test programme.

Outside of his professional career, Mike enjoyed physical challenges, including running in marathons and competing in triathlons. On his 50th birthday, he ran 50 miles as a personal celebration. In his retirement, he took up watercolour painting and attended art classes to improve his skill. His chosen subjects were the aircraft that he flew and natural surroundings of the Florida Everglades.

Above all else, he relished the time he spent with his family. It was for that reason that chose to leave NASA when he did, possibly missing a chance to walk on the Mon in favour of spending more time with his children and grandchildren.

He was predeceased by his wife, Patricia Finnegan Collins. He is survived by his sister, Virginia  (Nuchi) Collins Weart and by his two beloved daughters, Kate Collins (and husband Charlie Newell) and Ann Collins Starr (and husband Chris Starr) and he had seven grandchildren.