appl.nasa.gov

INTER INTER VIEW

William Readdy William Readdy

Inside

RETURN TO FLIGHT

PROPOSAL TALK

PROJECT TURNAROUND

OUTREACH—HOW AND WHY

ASK Magazine • Issue Sixteen ASK Magazine • Issue Sixteen

FEBRU A R Y 2004

Academy Sharing Knowledge y Sharing Knowledge

The NASA source for project management The NASA source for project management
Project management is so much more than handling the 

technical issues, and getting folks to do what you want 

them to do. It’s giving them what they need, even when 

you have to dig down deep within yourself to do it.

—Rudy Aquilina, from his “The Journey Back” (p. 6)
appl.nasa.gov

Table of Contents

ASK 16 February 2004

STORIES

6 The Journey Back 

As I struggled to assimilate the loss, I had no idea what I was going to do next 

BY RUDY AQUILINA 

10 What GOES Around, Comes Around

The project was in horrible shape—about $500 million over budget and five years behind

schedule BY RICK OBENSCHAIN 

16 Marbles for the Imagination 

What makes a young person want to be an engineer or scientist? Is it a single event? 

BY JACK SHUE 

20 End-to-End Commitment

When Jim cancelled the end-to-end test, some of the people he trusted most didn’t agree with him

BY JOHN NEWCOMB 

FEATURES

25 Fly Away

I explained that Kurt was missing, and that it did not look good BY SCOTT TIBBITTS 

28 Coming of Age

He gave me explicit instructions, “Take that plywood off the stack just as it sits—

do NOT turn it over” BY RAY MORGAN 

SPECIAL FEATURE: APPL’S ACCELERATING LEADERSHIP OPTION 

32 Going Up

“The Agency,” the man told me, “is a waste of taxpayer dollars.” I gave my tried-and-true

response, but this time it fell on deaf ears BY FREDDIE DOUGLAS III 

PRACTICES

34 Say What You Mean

The way I look at it, confrontation makes sense while you can still do something to prevent a

misunderstanding BY LYNDA RUTLEDGE

INTERVIEW

38 ASK Talks with William Readdy 

A year after Columbia, NASA’s Associate Administrator for Space Flight offers a personal

perspective on the Agency’s return to flight

IN THIS ISSUE • 3

Leadership Counts

BY TODD POST

REVIEW BOARD • 4

FROM THE DIRECTOR’S DESK • 5

Columbia, Loss, and 

the Search for Eldorado

BY DR. EDWARD HOFFMAN

LETTER FROM THE 

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF • 44

The Eye Cannot See Itself

BY DR. ALEXANDER LAUFER

ON THE COVER Space Shuttle Columbia

lifts off on January 16, 2003
2 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

WELCOME TO THE ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT

Leadership (APPL) and ASK Magazine. APPL helps

NASA managers and project teams accomplish today’s

missions and meet tomorrow’s challenges by providing

performance enhancement services and tools, supporting

career development programs, sponsoring knowledge

sharing events and publications, and creating opportunities for project management collaboration with universities, professional associations, industry partners, and

other government agencies.

ASK Magazine grew out of APPL’s Knowledge

Sharing Initiative. The stories that appear in ASK are

written by the “best of the best” project managers,

primarily from NASA, but also from other government

agencies and industry. These stories contain knowledge

and wisdom that are transferable across projects. Who

better than a project manager to help another project

manager address a critical issue on a project? Big projects,

small projects—they’re all here in ASK.

Please direct all inquiries about ASK Magazine editorial

policy to Todd Post, EduTech Ltd., 8455 Colesville Rd.,

Suite 930, Silver Spring, MD 20910, (301) 585-1030; or

email to tpost@edutechltd.com.

APPL DIRECTOR AND PUBLISHER 

Dr. Edward Hoffman 

ehoffman@hq.nasa.gov 

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Dr. Alexander Laufer 

allaufer@eng.umd.edu

EDITOR

Todd Post

tpost@edutechltd.com

ASSOCIATE EDITOR

Jody Lannen Brady

jbrady@edutechltd.com

ONLINE EDITOR

Sally McKee

smckee@edutechltd.com

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

W. Scott Cameron 

Terry Little 

Ray Morgan

Scott Tibbitts

EDITORIAL ASSISTANT

Michael Derocher

mderocher@edutechltd.com 

DESIGN

Hirshorn Zuckerman Design Group, Inc.

www.hzdg.com 

SENIOR PRINTING SPECIALIST

Dave Dixon

ddixon@hq.nasa.gov 

PRINTING

Fontana Lithograph, Inc.

STAFF

ASK ONLINE

http://appl.nasa.gov/ask
JUST RECENTLY, FOR EXAMPLE, I INTERVIEWED A PROJECT

manager who began to answer one of my questions by

paraphrasing the opening lines of Tolstoy’s Anna

Karenina—and, yes, he was aware of the reference. “All

successful projects succeed in much the same way,” he

wanted me to understand. “But each unsuccessful project

tends to have its own interesting and original history.”

Here is another example. This issue our Interview is

with Associate Administrator for Space Flight William

Readdy. At one point while meeting with Readdy at his

NASA Headquarters office, he directed us (ASK

colleague Jody Brady and myself) to look across the

room towards a bookcase, where he pointed out shelves

of histories and biographies. Readdy considers these his

reference guides in leadership, books about some of

history’s greatest statesmen: Abraham Lincoln, Ben

Franklin, Theodore Roosevelt, and others.

The stories about leadership we’re featuring in this

issue of ASK may not have the same cachet as those told

by Lincoln, Roosevelt and the like, but we think they will

still give you inspiring material to reflect on. Frankly, we

think our contributors in this issue stack up right

alongside the historical giants. Honesty and courage is

what matters, and in this issue we’re in no short supply

of either.

Readdy, for example, who is also an astronaut and

former Shuttle commander, generously agreed to talk

with us about lessons learned from the Columbia tragedy.

A year has passed already since the Columbia tragedy, and

we felt this issue would be incomplete had we failed to

observe that.

One of the reasons we read stories is to gain perspective from people whose personal experience on events may

help to broaden our own understanding and caution us

from rushing to judgment. Certainly there are people who

have rushed to judgment about NASA since February 1,

2003. We are most grateful to Readdy for giving us his

perspective and allowing us to share it with ASK readers.

The story by Rudy Aquilina, a project manager from

Ames Research Center, is powerful in what it can teach

us about recovery and how not to become paralyzed by

grief. Aquilina was project manager on a set of science

experiments that flew on STS-107. His story this issue,

“The Journey Back,” looks at how he and a group of

people on the project brought themselves out of despair

by memorializing the work they’d accomplished before

the premature, tragic end of the mission.

There is much more to this issue than these

Columbia experiences. In addition, we’ve reached back to

one of NASA’s greatest successes, the Viking program, in

a story by John Newcomb, “End to End Commitment.”

Newcomb remembers that against the judgment of one

of his most trusted deputies, Viking project manager Jim

Martin stuck to his guns about a critical decision at a

critical time in the project. In the same vein, Rick

Obenschain tells us about his response to inheriting a

project in bad need of leadership.

Leadership manifests throughout this issue, as it

does throughout NASA, and we’re honored to bring

these stories to you to prove that point. •

Leadership Counts

How many times have I heard project managers tell of learning by way of

examples from history and literature?

IN THIS ISSUE Todd Post

ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 3
4 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

REVIEW BOARD

JOHN BRUNSON of the Marshall Space Flight Center is a

member of the NASA Program Management

Council Working Group. He served as project

manager for three separate microgravity

payloads that flew on various Spacelab

missions. His career in the space industry began

in 1980 as a technician working on the first Space Shuttle.

DR. MICHELLE COLLINS works in the Spaceport Engineering

& Technology Research Group at Kennedy

Space Center. She has over twenty years

experience in aerospace spanning engineering,

R&D and project management. She is on the

Florida Tech Engineering Accreditation Board,

the National Fire Protection Association’s Technical Committee

for Halon Alternatives, and the United Nations Environmental

Programme Halon Technical Options Committee.

HECTOR DELGADO is Division Chief of Process Tools and

Techniques in the Safety, Health and

Independent Assessment Directorate at the

Kennedy Space Center. In 1995, he served as

Senior Technical Staff to the NASA Chief

Engineer at NASA Headquarters in Washington,

D.C. He has received many honors and awards including the

Exceptional Service Medal, Silver Snoopy Award, and various

achievement awards.

DR. OWEN GADEKEN is a Professor of Engineering Management

at the Defense Acquisition University where he

has taught Department of Defense program

and project managers for over twenty years. He

retired last year from the Air Force Reserve as a

Colonel and Senior Reservist at the Air Force

Office of Scientific Research. He is a frequent speaker at project

management conferences and symposia.

DR. MICHAEL HECHT has been with NASA since 1982 at the

Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL). He is project

manager and a co-investigator for the Mars

Environmental Compatibility Assessment

(MECA). In his previous assignment with

NASA’s New Millennium Program, he was

instrumental in defining the “microlander” that was adopted as

NASA’s New Millennium Program Deep Space 2.

JODY ZALL KUSEK is a Senior Evaluation Officer at the World

Bank. She is currently involved in supporting

the efforts of seven governments to move to a

focus of performance-based management. She

has spent many years in the area of public

sector reform, serving the Vice President of the

United States, the U.S. Secretary of the Interior, and the U.S.

Secretary of Energy in the areas of Strategic Planning and

Performance Management.

DONALD MARGOLIES of the Goddard Space Flight Center was

Project Manager for the Advanced Composition Explorer (ACE) mission, launched in

1997 and still operating successfully. He

received the NASA Medal for Outstanding

Leadership for his work on ACE and a NASA

Exceptional Service Medal for the Active Magnetospheric

Particle Tracer Explorers (AMPTE) mission.

DR. GERALD MULENBURG is the Manager of the Aeronautics

and Spaceflight Hardware Development

Division at the NASA Ames Research Center.

He has project management experience in

airborne, spaceflight, and ground research

projects with the Air Force, industry, and NASA.

He also served as Executive Director of the California Math

Science Task Force and as Assistant Director of the Lawrence

Hall of Science.

JOAN SALUTE is the Associate Director for projects in the

Information Sciences and Technology Directorate

at Ames Research Center. She has managed many

NASA projects including those involving flight

testing of thermal protection materials, commercial technology, commercial applications of

remote sensing, and remote sensing science projects. She has been

at Ames for twenty years, and was awarded the Sloan Fellowship to

attend Stanford Graduate School of Business.

HARVEY SCHABES is currently assigned to the Systems

Management Office at the Glenn Research

Center. He started his career with NASA in

icing research, and since then has served in

numerous organizations in support of the

Space Station Program.

CHARLIE STEGEMOELLER is Manager of the Johnson Space

Center (JSC) Human Space Life Sciences

Programs Office. He is responsible for the

programmatic and tactical implementation of

the lead center assignments for Space Medicine,

Biomedical Research and Countermeasures,

and Advanced Human Support Technology. He began his

career at NASA in 1985 with JSC Comptroller’s Office as a

technical program analyst.

HUGH WOODWARD is a Program Manager for Global Business

Services with the Procter & Gamble Company.

He served as the Chairman of the Project

Management Institute (PMI) for consecutive

terms in 2000 and 2001. He was elected to the

Board of Directors in 1996, and before being

elected as the chair, served terms as vice chair and in several

other key leadership roles.
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 5

ELDORADO

Gaily bedight

A gallant knight,

In sunshine and in shadow,

Had journeyed long,

Singing a song,

In search of Eldorado.

But he grew old—

This knight so bold—

And o’er his heart a shadow

Fell as he found

No spot of ground

That looked like Eldorado.

And, as his strength

Failed him at length,

He met a pilgrim shadow—

‘Shadow’ said he,

‘Where can it be—

This land of Eldorado?’

‘Over the mountains

Of the Moon,

Down the Valley of the Shadow,

Ride, boldly ride,’

The shade replied,—

‘If you seek for Eldorado!’

—Edgar Allan Poe

Originally published in The Flag of Our Union, 1849

I FIRST HEARD THIS POEM RECITED BY WILEY BUNN MANY

years ago at a project management course. (Wiley Bunn

was an esteemed NASA leader of the Marshall Space

Flight Center across several decades.) Wiley concluded

each of his presentations at NASA with the poem. He

felt it best captured the adventure, passion, persistence,

and boldness associated with NASA and in particular

Human Space Exploration.

The words have always had a powerful ring for me.

They strike a chord that seems so much a connection to

my experience as part of NASA. For me, within the

words is an eternal story of exploration, search for

meaning, and remembrance.

Part of an explorer’s spirit is a commitment and

sacrifice to seek the unknown, to expand the boundaries,

and to open up a frontier so that others can follow.

There must also be an awareness that the search can

never be completely fulfilled. One accomplishment leads

to another, and one attained voyage beckons another.

The ultimate joy for such individuals must come from a

life well led and full.

Remembrance is also an essential quality for people

that we value and cherish. I recall words that I first heard

as a teenager upon the sudden death of my father, “May

his memory be a blessing for all your years.” I am not

certain who uttered the words, but their simplicity

weaves a powerful truth that holds. It is a binding

agreement with those who came before that what they

started we will continue. An acknowledgment that we

will be better and do better, because we knew them.

When I think of Columbia STS-107—Rick Husband,

Willie McCool, Michael Anderson, David Brown, Kalpana

Chawla, Laurel Clark, and Ilan Ramon—it makes me

think of NASA, exploration, sacrifice, remembrance, a

search for meaning, commitment, poetry, and family. •

Columbia, Loss, and the Search for Eldorado

I have attempted to share reflections that come from the heart,

and hope they do justice and honor for our colleagues and their families.

FROM THE DIRECTOR’S DESK Dr. Edward Hoffman
6 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

THE JOURNEY BACK
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 7

We had stepped outside the hangar at

Kennedy Space Center to prepare for the

return of Columbia, which was carrying our

flight experiments. It was a minute late and

still no sound. We would hear it before we

saw it, and we expected to hear the big booms

at any second. As the clocked ticked by, we

knew something was wrong. Then somebody

monitoring communications gave us the

news. For the last 15 minutes, Columbia

hadn’t been where it was supposed to be.

BY RUDY AQUILINA
8 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

SOON, WE HAD OFFICIAL

word: the Shuttle was lost.

I was emotionally unprepared at that moment 

to deal with what was

happening, and yet I knew

that my team would be

looking to me for direction.

The project team was

supporting four experiments from Ames Research

Center in California. As I

struggled to assimilate the

loss, I had no idea what I

was going to do next. So many things ran through my

head, and it was impossible to wrap my mind around it all.

MOVING INTO ACTION

But I had to do something. I was the project manager,

and the team members, about a dozen of them, were

waiting for direction. I asked them to gather in a room.

We didn’t talk much about the loss; people weren’t ready

to talk about it at that point. I made certain that they all

knew there were phone numbers that they could call,

and that there were people back at Ames who could talk

to them about the accident, if they felt they needed to.

Initially, I encouraged people to go home, but most

of my team made it very clear that they wanted to stay at

Cape Canaveral. They’d been there for days or weeks or

months, and they weren’t able to just walk away. I tried

to give some structure to the project at that point, so that

the team members felt productive. We set up daily

morning meetings to update what was known, and to lay

out the day’s activities. It was mostly busy work for

everybody those first few days; just doing something

helped us get through the day.

The hard part was figuring out what they needed

from me, without my invading their space. We began

plotting out what we would need to do over the coming

days to wrap up our operations. The first practical thing

would be preparing to pack up all the ground equipment

once it was released. It took about seven or eight days,

but we were able to get the bulk of the lab equipment,

our supplies, and the backup flight hardware packed up

and put away. Then, one by one, we headed home.

GONE, BUT NOT FORGOTTEN

This was my first Shuttle payload as project manager.

We all know that projects often don’t go as planned, but

the idea that something could go

wrong on this scale had been beyond

my thinking. Truth is, I don’t know

that you can ever really be prepared for

something like this.

When we think of tragedy striking,

it is usually something personal and

private. You get some respite by losing

yourself in your work. But in this case,

this very public tragedy happened in

our workplace. Every time I saw or read

something about it, I felt drained. Even

worse were the times I got a call to

identify a piece of hardware. I would

look at the photo and it was like I was right there in the

middle of the trauma, all over again.

Several weeks after we had returned to Ames, a group

of people from the project suggested that we do something

to memoralize the Columbia. As the project manager, I was

the person they turned to for guidance, but I have to admit

it wasn’t easy. Emotionally I wasn’t yet ready myself to be

thinking of a memorial, but

when the team suggested a

memorial, I didn’t feel that I

could say, “Yeah sure, good

idea—now go ahead and

plan it on your own.” So 

I arranged a meeting with 

a facilitator. I thought we

would need someone who

was removed enough to be

able to keep all of us on task.

And, as I expected, it

wasn’t like other meetings

we typically have, because

there was still a lot of raw

emotion in that room. We were a close team to begin

with; many of us still saw one another on a regular basis,

but I became aware of emotions that I wouldn’t have

normally been exposed to as their project manager. Even

though you try to get to know everyone on a project, this

was different because we were discussing feelings that are

very personal to people. As people expressed themselves

at our meeting, it made me acutely aware of how much

more there is to project management than the technical

aspect, and of how much you learn about your

teammates by just listening to them.

We hoped to honor the memory of the Columbia

crew, but we also wanted to do something that honored

Experiment racks surround astronaut David Brown,

STS-107 mission specialist, aboard the Space

Shuttle Columbia.

What project team 

whose work came to

a premature end

wouldn’t feel

something missing,

some need to get

past the loss?
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 9

the work of all the people at the center who were

involved with our project. There were probably 200

people at Ames who had been involved in some way,

shape, or form. Even though we had no science return

from our experiment, we had accomplished quite a bit in

the last four years. We wanted to recognize all the work

that people had put into the project, and I think that we

came up with a good concept, and, more importantly, it

allowed team members a chance to take back some

measure of control.

GATHERING THE TROOPS

All projects closeout with an awards ceremony. For our

project, even with its premature ending, anything less

would have been unacceptable. After checking in with

the team, it was clear what type of event people wanted,

and when we finally held the ceremony in June, it was

low-key and informal. Normally, we would have had a

crew member share his or her personal observations.

This ceremony would have to be different.

We opened with a slideshow of images that lasted

about ten minutes and included a lot of pre-flight work.

We knew there were personal photos out there, so we had

asked people to share them with us. We had pictures of

people having fun on the project. Then we showed the

crew photos and the on-orbit images that we had

collected, with a beautiful soundtrack playing in the

background. The folks who put this together

did a wonderful job. We burned a CD copy of

the show for every member of the core project

team to take home.

The ceremony itself didn’t last as long as a

typical end-of-project awards ceremony might

have, but with Ames management present, we

acknowledged everyone who worked on the

project. I was concerned that it would be

depressing, but it didn’t turn out that way at all.

Afterwards, we went to a nearby park and had

some beer and chips and talked.

At that point, people were ready to talk

about what had happened; you might even say

that they had reached a point where they needed

to talk about it. Talking together was a positive

experience for all of us. It helped provide us with

a sense of closure on this project. Our situation,

because of Columbia, was exceptional, but what

project team whose work came to a premature

end wouldn’t feel something missing, some

need to get past the loss?

Many months later, we’re all still dealing with the

tragedy, but we’re also moving on. We put together a

final report that reminded us, once again, of all that we

had accomplished. I think finishing the report helped all

of us to move on.

I’m now the project manager for another set of

experiments that we hope to fly in 2006. People ask me if

I’ll do things differently this time, because of my experience on Columbia. On a technical level, the answer is,

“No, not really.” Socially, it’s “Yes.” Project management

is so much more than handling the technical issues and

getting folks to do what you want them to do. It’s giving

them the support they need, even when you have to dig

down deep within yourself to do it. •

LESSONS

• Managing the cost, schedule, and technical elements of

a project is only part of the picture. A project manager

must also be capable of assessing and addressing the

emotional needs of his or her team.

• Teams deserve to have an opportunity to gain closure

on a project that comes to a premature end.

QUESTION

Failures of some scale are commonplace on projects. Most are not

cataclysmic. To what extent, can you prepare for failures? Or

does anticipating failure become a self-fulfilling prophecy?

“I like being involved in all aspects of a project—

the engineering and the operations, as well as the

science. It brings the project to life,” says RUDY

AQUILINA. Over the course of a 13-year trajectory at

Lockheed Martin, Aquilina worked his way through 

the ranks from a verification engineer to deputy project

manager. He was hired by NASA four years ago.

“I think the life science research NASA is doing is just great research, and

I’m happy to support it,” explains Aquilina. “My degree is in aerospace

engineering, so my work supporting life science gives a new slant to my

view of the world.”

The project Aquilina managed on STS-107 supported four life science

experiments:

98-E409, Choroidal Regulation Involved in the Cerebral Fluid

Response to Altered Gravity

E386, Arterial Remodeling and Functional Adaptations Induced by

Microgravity

E127, Anatomical Studies of Central Vestibular Adaptation

BACTER, Bacterial Physiology and Virulaence on Earth and in

Microgravity

Find a complete list of STS-107 science activities on the Office of Biological

and Physical Research Web site at http://spaceresearch.nasa.gov.
10 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

Above and opposite page: An encapsulated

GOES satellite travels up the gantry at

Cape Canaveral for attachment to its

launch vehicle in May 1999. 
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 11

O E S A R U N D,

OG

T A H

N

I was managing the Earth Observing Systems (EOS) W

I

A

platforms project at Goddard Space Flight Center,

H

and I wasn’t looking for a new job. But one day, the C

C

new Center Director, Dr. John Klineberg, called me S

O

N

into his office and said, “How would you like to be M

E

the new GOES project manager?”

B

E

O

I replied, “Well, I don’t think so, John. That sounds S

like a pretty lousy job.” K

C

A

I R

R O U N D

Above: Workers prepare the GOES-K payload

for launch in April 1997.
12 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

HE LOOKED A LITTLE STARTLED, AND I ASKED HIM IF HE’D looks as though the contractors build the instruments,

seen the front page of the New York Times a couple weeks and the contractors build the spacecraft. You need to tell

before with the headline, “Hussein Invades Kuwait.” The me what you’re doing to make progress happen. This

only other article above the fold that same day was about has got to be a team effort.”

the Geostationary Operational Environmental Satellite I listened to what they all had to say. I figured out

(GOES), and it said something to the effect that the what we needed to do on our side, what we didn’t need

project was “continuing its downslide into oblivion.” to do, and what we weren’t ready to do yet. I told my

I wasn’t interested in leaving a successful project leads that we were going to cut our total work force in

like EOS—with its six, $1-billion platforms and 17 half—government and contractors—and we went down

instruments scheduled to launch on a Titan-4—for a from around 800 people to 400. That was enough to do

project that had made the front page news for all the the job, and at the same time I essentially created a

wrong reasons. There wasn’t anything to consider, or so savings account by doing this. When problems came up,

I thought. I could stay within my budget because I was only paying

“You didn’t think that sounded like a question, did for half the people. That’s a lot of cost.

you?” John asked me.

“I thought I heard a little inflection,” I told him. TAKING RESPONSIBILITY

“But I guess I understand the situation now.” Once we had our budget in line, I needed to find a way

And so I went to work on GOES. to get everybody on the same page. One of the things I

took a look at was our award-fee contract.

AN UPHILL BATTLE For the last few years, the contractors had

The project was in horrible shape—about $500 million typically been awarded 50 to 60 percent of their

over budget and five years behind schedule. NASA and potential fees. So, I went to my two contractors and

the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration said, “Look, you all have been getting mediocre award

(NOAA) needed to launch weather satellites to replace fees. I have a deal for you. I’m going to let you pick ten

the aged, limping satellites doing the job at the time. milestones for the next six-month period. The only

They had spent $100 million a year on GOES to build thing I’m going to require is that you have to pick

hardware that didn’t work so far. milestones that truly reflect progress. Something that

You get in on a program like that and nobody really shows we’re moving from point A to point B in delivexpects you to succeed. The funny thing is that low ering this hardware.”

expectations can actually give you a little more freedom I went on to tell them that if they achieved all ten of

to work things out. You can do something like I did, for their milestones, they would receive 100 percent of their

example, by telling the Secretary of Commerce that you award fee. But if they missed even one, then they got

need a bit more of your money upfront. zero, and I expected to hear no complaints, no arguing,

He said to me, “This is the money we have.” And I no going to my boss, or anything else.

said, “If we can get the money on the schedule we’ve Sure enough, they agreed. Because they got to pick

asked for, we can launch a fully functional satellite in their own milestones, they were certain they could

three years. Or with all due respect, Mr. Secretary, you achieve all of them and finally get good award fees. They

can keep spending $100 million a year, and you’ll get seemed to have no doubt about it.

your satellite on the 12th of never.” He came back and Well, at the end of the six months, they missed eight

told me that if NASA would commit to that launch date, of the ten. That didn’t make any of us too happy. The

then he would give us the money—and he did. good thing was, though, they didn’t complain to anyone.

While he was thinking about it, I took a look at the The other good thing was that they wanted to try again.

number of people working on the project. I said to the I said to them, “Look, you help me figure out how to

government team at the time, “Look, from where I sit, it manage this program, and you will be rewarded.”
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 13

GETTING THE RIGHT PEOPLE I went to my Center Director and I said, “You know,

During this time, we were having the most problems John, I’ve just got to have somebody who can go on site

with our instruments, which were being built by one of and ramrod these instruments because we’re not getting

our contractors. I knew that I had to assign someone to anywhere with them.”

take charge of this area, and I knew whom I wanted: He nodded, and asked who I wanted. “You can have

Marty Davis. Marty was working on another project, but anybody you want,” he said.

I had seen him in action on the Gamma Ray “That’s good,” I said, “because I want Marty Davis.”

Observatory (GRO), and I knew he was the person I He said, “We can’t move Marty. We just put him on

needed on my team. another project ten weeks ago.”

I ING S THAT L

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A technician tests deployment

of the sounder instrument’s

door on the GOES-L satellite.
14 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

I told him why I needed Marty, and why no one else TALK TO ME

would do. When Marty heard about it, he almost killed The instrument that gave us the most trouble was the

me when I wouldn’t budge from that position, and our sounder. Marty told me that despite doing the best they

friendship of 20 years almost disintegrated. But, in the could, trying to meet the specifications for the sounder

end, the director put Marty on the project. would delay launch. I needed to understand what was

Marty spent a couple of years, almost resident, with really needed by the people who would be using the

the contractor. In the process, we made instrument instrument. Our customer was NOAA. Unfortunately,

development and integration a team effort between the we had about three levels between the actual user, the

contractors and Goddard. In fact, Marty did such a great National Weather Service, and the people who worked

leadership job that after we launched the first satellite in with us at NOAA.

the series, and built most of the second, he threw me off One day I called up Joe Friday at the National

the project. Marty continues as the GOES project Weather Service. I said, “Joe, what time in the morning

manager today. do you get in?”

WH ND AT WAS

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The Earth, as seen by the

GOES weather satellite

on New Year’s Day, 1994.
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 15

He said, “I get in at 6:30 a.m.”

I asked him, “If I’m standing downstairs at the

elevator at 6:30 tomorrow morning, can I have the first

half-hour of your day?”

He agreed. I got up early and went over to his

office building. When he came in and saw me waiting

by the elevator, he said, “Things aren’t going too well,

are they, Rick?”

I said, “Joe, they’re not. But I’m going to make a deal

with you. If you will tell me right now what’s the

minimum you can accept on the first spacecraft, we’ll

get it off the ground. Eventually, we’re going to build you

five spacecrafts, and I promise that every one will be

better than the last from the instrument standpoint. But

I can’t build the sounder the way you want right now.

We’re going crazy. I can’t get agreement on the real

requirements from NOAA. So, what can you accept?”

We sat down there and negotiated in thirty minutes

what the sounder was going to be like on the first GOES.

I left the building before the other NOAA people came

in, because I couldn’t be seen there talking to the

National Weather Service.

I came back and said, “Okay. We’ve got a plan now.

We know how to do this.” I told the people at NOAA

what we were doing, and they said, “Well, wait a minute.

You’re not meeting the spec.”

I said, “I’m meeting your requirements.”

“No, we want you to meet the spec.”

I said, “We’re not going to meet the spec. We’re

going to meet the requirement. Where did that requirement come from? Do me a favor, and go back and talk

to the people who are going to use this instrument and

make sure that isn’t what they’re willing to work with.”

And guess what the National Weather Service told

them? They said, “Yeah, Rick’s right. It’s not the specification, but it’s what we need.”

So, with NOAA’s concurrence, we built our

sounder and launched their satellite. We were still the

same $500 million over budget that we had been when

I joined the program 31

/2 years before, but the important

thing was that, against all odds, we delivered what

was needed. •

LESSONS

• Don’t be afraid to take dramatic action to get your

project back on course, including fighting to get the

right person for each key position on your team.

• Let your contractors participate in selecting their

metrics and incentives.

• Seek out the “real” users of your end product and

make certain that you understand their needs.

QUESTION

How open are the communication lines between your project

team and your end users? What can a project manager do to

facilitate candid communication throughout the project lifecycle?

TEAM PLAYER

“The real benefit of having strong

government and contract teams 

is that both feel confident in 

their abilities; therefore, you can

negotiate very nicely. Rick had

that honed to a T,” says John Hraster, who met RICK

OBENSCHAIN when the two worked on the Gamma Ray

Observatory (GRO) project at the Goddard Space Flight Center.

Hraster cites Obenschain’s ability to recognize and take

full advantage of team members’ strengths—on both the

government and contract sides. “Rick did that to perfection,

and that strong relation really paid off, because a couple of

strong teams together have a synergy that goes beyond the

project work itself,” explains Hraster.

Obenschain began his NASA career in June 1962 as 

a college intern in the Goddard Advanced Systems

Implementation Branch. He was selected as the Director of the

Applied Engineering and Technology Directorate at Goddard in

June 2000. He has received the NASA Distinguished Service

Medal, Outstanding Leadership Medal, Exceptional Service

Medal, and Equal Employment Opportunity Medal, in addition

to Goddard’s Award of Merit and a Von Braun Medal for

Excellence in Space Program Management from the American

Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics (AIAA). Obenschain

spoke at the APPL Masters Forum in July 2003. He can be

contacted at Arthur.F.Obenschain@nasa.gov.
16 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 17

TO FILL THE NEED FOR ENGINEERS AND SCIENTISTS OF THE Several people at this tournament had been using

future, we at NASA need to start attracting youths to drafting templates as gauges, but the organizers discovthese fields now. With this goal in mind, Goddard Space ered that the templates were too large. Here was an

Flight Center encourages its employees to find ways to engineering problem, I said to myself—and it was then

capture the imaginations of our next-generation that the thought crossed my mind: Wouldn’t it be a good

workforce. A second grader has a different outlook on way to get the kids’ attention by making some NASAwhat is exciting, versus that of a tenth grader, but to sponsored gauges and handing them out? Even better

capture the imagination of either is important. would be to fly one of them in space.

I enjoy talking to kids about engineering, particu- Now, where do you start once you have an idea? In

larly applied engineering, and so the question is always this case, I started by talking with my colleague Mike

on my mind: What makes a person want to be an Ryschkewitsch from Applied Engineering and

engineer or scientist? Or, more specifically, what makes Technology at Goddard while we were in the gym one

someone want to go into engineering or science? Is it a morning. As fate would have it, the conversation took

single event? place while my son was at the 79th annual tournament.

Several years ago I got an idea, and, as with most I suggested that it would be fun to make a gauge and get

ideas, it was not accompanied by a blinding flash of light. it flown in celebration of the 80th anniversary of the

The idea came to me at the National Marbles tournament. Mike seemed to enjoy the idea and

Tournament. To watch a good game of marbles is to suggested I write up a brief proposal so that he could

watch physics at work. The dedication and effort these give it to the Public Affairs Office for review.

players put into their game can be the mark of a good Needless to say, there were the usual jokes about

engineer or scientist. losing one’s marbles, but the idea was well received; and

My son had been playing the game of Ringer (a U.S. to prove that I knew where my marbles were, I produced

Marbles Game) for several years, and now he was out of my pocket some marbles and gave one to each

coaching. In the rulebook for Ringer, one rule states, person who attended the kickoff meeting to produce

“The shooter shall be not more than 3

/4 inch in diameter gauges for the tournament.

and not less than 1

/2 inch in diameter. All contestants’ With permission given to run the project, Mike

shooters should be checked for size prior to the came up with the money needed to fabricate the gauges,

beginning of the game.” and in addition came up with the idea to have the gauges

Mafor the Imaginatrbles 

ion

by Jack Shue
18 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

calibrated by the National Institute of Standards and

Technology (NIST). The Goddard mechanical branch

was given the task of designing and manufacturing a

gauge large enough to include two holes and the NASA

and NIST logos. By using a computer-driven mill they

were able to scribe in the logos, as well as the name of

the tournament and the words “GO” and “NO GO”

under the two holes.

I had originally asked for one gauge, but once word

of this project got out, the presentation list was up to 43

gauges for the tournament participants.The Public Affairs

Office suggested manufacturing another 20 to 30 gauges.

The gauges were taken to NIST for calibration, and

for a finishing touch they brought out a 3

/4-inch gauge

marble that had its dimension known to 3 millionths of

an inch. Much to the shop’s chagrin, the gauge marble

did not pass through six of the gauges. This was a

lesson to us on how to specify the tolerance for a gauge.

The dimensioning should have been 3

/4 (0.750) inch

+0.005 / -0.000 instead of the ±0.005 used. NIST was

kind enough to have a technician ream open the holes

that did not pass the standard.

The 80th anniversary tournament took place at the

beginning of June 2003. We had hoped our gauge

would catch a ride on the Shuttle, but we had to settle

on a balloon flight. The first thing the engineers wanted

to know was, what was a marble gauge, how big were

they, and how much did they weigh?

These were easy questions to answer, and the response

came back that it would not be difficult at all to fly them on

one balloon; in fact, they normally fly more duct tape than

that! I kept one gauge as a spare “just in case,” as I had

heard the story of the balloon gondola that found the only

deep lake within 200 miles of the drop zone.

Balloon season starts in May and I needed the

gauges back two weeks before the tournament. It is not

uncommon for the engineers to wait weeks for the right

conditions. The launch took place on May 24 in New

Mexico, and it was almost a week before the gauges were

returned. They were delivered to me the day before I was

to leave for the tournament.

At the start of the project, I had not given much

thought as to who would be coming to the tournament.

Mark wanted to be there to do his job as Public Affairs

Officer, and he asked if I would mind if he invited the

Center Director to come. To my amazement the Goddard

Center Director, Al Diaz, was enthusiastic about going.

At the briefing I gave him, Al got a gauge and some

marbles. He requested another gauge so that he could

give it to NASA Administrator Sean O’Keefe.

Mark suggested that we should try to get an

astronaut to do the honors of presenting the gauges to

the tournament finalists, and he put in a request for one.

With just a few days to go it was confirmed that we

would get an astronaut, Tony Antonelli, and that he

would spend the entire day at the tournament.

AA second grader has a different outlook 

on what is exciting, versus that of a tenth

grader, but to capture the imagination of

either is important.

I

I like to imagine that some day I’ll hear 

an astronaut, engineer, or Nobel laureate

telling an audience that it all started for

them back at a marbles tournament.
When we arrived, the tournament had already been

under way for three wet days. The day of the finals it

rained again, but marbles takes place rain or shine. Tony

was there in his blue flight suit, and the rest of us in

some form of NASA clothing. Al and Tony were both

very good sports about the whole thing, including the

rain, and the enthusiasm of the marbles group towards

NASA was touching.

Tony gave his speech and did a question-andanswer session with the players, and while they were the

questions only kids could ask, it showed that the public

does follow what we are doing. After one of the

questions, Tony revealed why he had gotten into the

astronaut corps. It turns out, he had been fascinated as

a kid by watching the Skylab astronauts run in space. I

like to imagine that some day I’ll hear an astronaut,

engineer, or Nobel laureate telling an audience that it all

started for them back at a marbles tournament.

A largely volunteer effort that had required little

investment on the Agency’s part had indeed captured the

imagination of youth. And there was another, unforeseen

payoff, as well—the project had sparked the enthusiasm

of a good number of people at NASA and NIST along

the way. Watching the presentation of the gauges was the

closing of a satisfying, yearlong endeavor for me. •

LESSONS

• For NASA to play a leading role in inspiring tomorrow’s

scientists and engineers, individuals within the Agency

need to recognize outreach as an important activity.

• Good ideas can die on the vine without persistence.

Persistence marries intelligence with leadership.

QUESTION

At what point does individual initiative need to be organized

and creativity managed?

“Marbles for the Imagination” typifies JACK SHUE’S view of how to get young people excited about

science: seize every opportunity. Shue, an electrical engineer at the Goddard Space Flight Center, finds

talking with students to be some of the most rewarding work he’s done since joining NASA sixteen years

ago. “I estimate that I talk to close to 1000 students each year,” he says. “This year, I’m mentoring a group

of high school students. I also try to do one or more science fairs each year, and last year I helped review

grant proposals for the State of Maryland.” Shue participates each year in National Engineers Week, which includes visiting

schools to coach teachers on getting students interested in NASA science and engineering projects. 

As for his interest in marbles, Shue credits his son, who began playing marbles nine years ago through a county recreation

program. “Some of the group traveled to tournaments preparing for Nationals, and I started to do some of the refereeing.

I learned from some of the coaches what was needed to be a good player.” The proud father adds, “The last year of 

eligibility (at age 14), my son made it to fourth place at the Nationals.” Tournament competition can be fierce, Shue says.

He won’t speak for anyone else, but insists he himself has never lost a single marble at one of these tournaments. 

Jack Shue can be reached at John.L.Shue@nasa.gov.

ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 19
20 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

A scale model demonstrates the Viking lander’s deployed legs and radar in their post-touchdown configurations.
PROBABLY ONE OF THE TOUGHEST, MOST GUT-WRENCHING

decisions I have ever witnessed on a project was the one

involving the end-to-end test for the Viking lander. At 

this point on the project, I was trajectory analysis and

design manager on Viking, so mine was not a small stake

in the decision.

The traditional approach is to test an integrated

system such as the lander or a spacecraft once it’s been

assembled. It is a complete system test, and in general it’s

the way to go. But “in general” doesn’t apply to every

project. In almost every case, and certainly in our case,

there are limits on your ability to simulate the total set of

conditions such that the test will be 100% valid. Plus,

when we got down to that point, we were running tight

on time and money—and end-to-end systems tests are

always expensive.

As a project progresses, an effective project team will

develop and maintain a list of possible cost offsets that can

reduce scope. The Viking project had developed and

maintained such a list, which included some fifty items of

cost or schedule offsets, along with an assessment of their

associated risks. We knew it was time to turn to the list

again when the NASA administrator sent word to us in

1974 (one year prior to launch) that Viking had to solve all

future problems without requesting additional funding.

To test or not to test

As the time for the end-to-end test came near, Jim Martin,

the Viking project manager, called us all into a meeting. Jim

listened to all the arguments, pro and con, about the value

of the test. The project team presented data on the smaller

tests already being conducted, which had verified the

performance of various subsystems and interfaces. Then

we discussed the known deficiencies of the end-to-end

test, as well as the risks associated with canceling it.

After Jim assured himself that every subsystem and

component involved had been adequately tested, he

announced his decision to cancel the end-to-end test. It

wasn’t an easy decision; some of the people Jim trusted

most didn’t agree with him. One of them was Israel

Taback, (affectionately known by all of us as Is) chief

engineer for Viking and just the best systems engineer I

have ever known in my life. That was the only time during

the course of the Viking mission that I ever saw Is Taback

put his body across the track—and Jim Martin ran over it.

Taback stood up and argued that we couldn’t afford

not to run the test. Jim Martin relied heavily on Taback

ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 21

END TO END CO

BY JOHN NEWC

MM

OMB

ITMENT
and had the utmost respect for him. But Martin also was a I had a fellow emulating the control logic. The endguy who had the guts to stand alone and make a decision. to-end test would have verified that there was no sign

reversal. Now, we wouldn’t have that assurance; so, you

Testing my own commitment can bet that my first stop after the meeting was in the

The day that Jim decided to cancel the test, I made the office of the lead for the guidance, control, and

mistake of walking out of the meeting beside Taback. sequencing computer.

He turned to me and said, “Well, you know we’ve Taback’s response—something that has been born

cancelled the test.” out over the years—was that one test was worth a

I nodded—and that’s when he picked me up, figura- thousand opinions. He was a strong believer of “test as

tively, by the scuff of my shirt. “As of now,” he told me, you fly, and fly as you test.” We (NASA) had screwed up

“I hold you personally responsible that there won’t be a several spacecraft because we didn’t obey that very

sign reversal in the control logic for the lander.” simple rule. His position was that there is no reason

Taback had reason to be worried, because we had compelling enough to delete an overall systems test. “I

crashed—not us, but NASA—a spacecraft before due to don’t care what you guys tell me,” I remember him

control logic sign reversal. This was part of my respon- saying. “There is no justification.”

sibility on the project, and so in other words he was But Jim did justify it.

saying my career was on the line.

22 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

An engineer examines the aeroshell that protected the Viking lander during entry into the Martian atmosphere.
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 23

The art of persuasion 

With all this at stake, it would be easy to second-guess

Jim’s decision, but there was more to the story, of

course. At best, we had hoped to run an overall systems

test on the lander that would be ninety-something

percent valid. To do that, we’d have to fudge a few

things. So, it wouldn’t have been a perfect test, number

one. Number two, we were able to do a tremendous

amount of testing on the various subsystem levels such

that we had a lot of confidence that the system, as a

whole, would work.

In most of our projects we have to make very

difficult decisions with limited knowledge. I like the way

one of our Viking team members, Tom Young, put it.

Tom’s take on a tough decision was to say: “If we make

this decision, are we prepared to defend it in

Congressional testimony?” If the answer is yes, then you

probably made the right decision. On Viking, we very

nearly got the chance to find out.

After Jim cancelled the test, we received a scathing

report from the Inspector General’s (IG) office that said

Viking had been placed in severe jeopardy because the

end-to-end systems test had been called off, and they

felt it was a totally inappropriate thing for management

to do. When the IG does something like that, they give

you a draft report, and they give you a chance to

respond to it before it becomes official.

Jim took a look at the report and didn’t agree with the

conclusions. There were no new findings about the risk of

canceling the test; it came down to a difference in judgment.

Jim knew that a negative report would distract our

team from the work we needed to do. To address the

report, he called in his deputy project manager, Gus

Guastaferro, and asked him, “Gus, will you handle this?”

You should understand that Gus was known for his

creative negotiation techniques.

On the day of the meeting with the IG group, Gus

went into the room, and shook hands with everyone.

They were all young, all about 25 to 30 years old. Gus

smiled, and started talking.

He said, “Oh, that’s a very interesting report you’ve

got here. We have been very interested reading it. But let

me ask, just to help me here, what are your backgrounds?”

He looked at the first guy, who told Gus he was a

business major in college. He went to the next guy. He

had an engineering background, but little practical

experience. And so on.

When they’d gone around the room, Gus said,

“Okay, you gentlemen have written this report and

stated your opinion. You certainly have a right to do

that; but you’ve just got to realize that your opinion,

which is based on a total of about thirty years of minimal

technical experience, has to be judged against the

opinion of about 800 years of engineering experience of

more than fifty senior engineers.”

He went on to say, “If you do pursue this, of course,

we will request a Congressional review, and I hope you

realize that you will be asking your bosses to defend your

thirty years of judgment against our 800 years. Some

people, I dare say, might question that kind of disparity.”

WHAT’S IN A TEST?

The end-to-end test would verify the complex sequence of events from lander separation to landing. Due to the large distances involved and

the significant delay time in sending a command and receiving verification, the lander needed to operate autonomously after it separated

from the orbiter. It had to sense conditions, make decisions, and act accordingly. We were flying into a relatively unknown set of

conditions—a Martian atmosphere of unknown pressure, density, and consistency to land on a surface of unknown altitude, and onewhich

had an unknown bearing strength.

In order to touch down safely on Mars the lander had to orient itself for descent and entry, modulate itself to maintain proper lift, pop a

parachute, jettison its aeroshell, deploy landing legs and radar, ignite a terminal descent engine, and fly a given trajectory to the surface.

Once on the surface, it would determine its orientation, raise the high-gain antenna, perform a sweep to locate Earth, and begin transmitting

information. It was this complicated, autonomous sequence that the end-to-end test was to simulate.

“ IN GE N E R A L” D OE S N ’ T A P PLY TO E V E R Y P R O J E C T.
24 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

Then he left the room. (We later learned that the IG

had decided not to publish the report.) That was typical

Gus. Don’t get mad; just get what you need. And typical

Jim, too. Know the strengths of the people working for

you. Let them do the jobs they do best—like handing

over the report to Gus. But also be willing to overrule

them, when the overall good of the project demands it.

Jim also believed in making decisions in a

completely open fashion, with everyone who wanted a

say involved. And that included his critics—although he

was not about to let his critics go unanswered. Jim

didn’t ignore criticism; he evaluated it.

Moreover, he expected nothing less than absolute

truth from his people. The one unforgivable sin was to

put a spin on something or to hold back needed information. I saw people attempt to do this in a staff meeting

and that was their last meeting. They were off the project

that day.

All discussions of major decisions were held in

open forum. The decisions were completely open and

the reasons and results were made known to the entire

project and to NASA management. Jim’s requirement

for open communication within and outside of the

project permeated the Viking project community. In that

vein, the decision and the reasons for the end-to-end

test cancellation were immediately made known to the

Center Director, the Associate Administrator, and the

NASA Administrator. They also knew that it would save

$1.1 million of additional funds, and they knew the

risks associated with it.

And in the end...

After that famous decision, we used to say that we were

still going to perform the lander end-to-end test—it

would just happen on Mars. When this “test” finally

took place on July 20, 1976, and the first pictures

started coming back, I don’t believe there was a dry eye

in that whole Space Flight Operations Facility. •

LESSONS

• Truly good decisions can only be made when there is

free and open communication and information

exchange throughout the project.

• Team members are more likely to accept decisions,

even if they do not agree with them, when they understand why and how decisions are made.

• After discussing controversial issues with team

members, project managers must have the courage to

make unpopular decisions, if necessary—and to take

responsibility for those decisions.

QUESTION

Why is it more difficult today to rely on expertise and knowledge

when exercising judgment that challenges accepted norms?

REMEMBERING JIM MARTIN

JOHN NEWCOMB held several positions on Viking from 1968 to 1977. In addition to being trajectory analysis and

design manager during the phase covered in “End-to-End Commitment,” he also served as the Viking operations

analysis manager and Viking support office manager, and was deputy to Jim Martin for extended mission planning. 

“Jim moved his people around,” remembers Newcomb. “His project organization was a very fluid one.” If one area of

the project needed attention, Martin re-organized his leadership team, and put team members in the positions where he felt they were

needed the most. “When things stabilized,” Newcomb explains,“he would often move people again. I went from highly technical assignments such as being responsible for the design of the orbiter and lander trajectories, to one in which I had to coordinate the entire Viking

team to develop the flight operations protocol, to one where I was involved in negotiating contracts for the extended mission worth a

total of $40 million. In that way, Viking was a very broadening experience for me.”

As Viking project manager, Jim Martin led a 750-person team of NASA, industry and university engineers, scientists, and technicians.

Viking 1 and Viking 2, twin robot landers, launched in 1975 and touched down on Mars a year later, NASA’s first successful missions to

the Red Planet. In Issue 15 of ASK, Tom Young’s story “Class Act” also paid tribute to Martin’s leadership style. Jim Martin died in 2002.

IN OTHER WORDS, HE WAS SAYING MY CAREER WAS ON THE LINE.
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 25

BY SCOTT TIBBITTS

AT 1 A.M. THE PHONE RANG, WAKING MY WIFE

AND ME. KARLA, WHOSE HUSBAND KURT WORKED

FOR OUR COMPANY, EXPLAINED THAT KURT HAD

NOT COME HOME FROM WORK THAT NIGHT. SHE

WAS WORRIED, AND WANTED TO KNOW IF I HAD

ANY IDEA WHERE HE MIGHT BE.
26 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

KURT WAS ONE OF THE LEAD ENGINEER/PROJECT MANAGERS

at our company, Starsys, in Boulder, Colorado. I had

hired Kurt six years ago and found him to be a man of

few words but huge actions. Kurt had single-handedly

created two new business areas in the company and

made a significant contribution to the upcoming 

Mars Exploration Rover mission. Conscientious,

inventive, quiet, caring, he was well liked by every person

that he came in contact with. Kurt and Karla had 

two children, ages four and nine, and he was one of

those fathers who had figured out that the important

things in life center on family.

I told Karla I would call her back, and then called

several other folks in the company. No one had seen Kurt

since lunch, and he had missed some important afternoon

meetings.The operations manager drove back to work and

checked Kurt’s e-mails and the sign-out sheet. It looked as

if Kurt had left for lunch, but then did not return.

It was now 2 a.m. There wasn’t much more I could

do before morning, but I decided that doing anything

was better than just waiting. I hopped in my car and

joined Karla driving around the area looking for Kurt’s

car. We checked in with each other every five minutes or

so by cell phone. Neither of us could come up with a

scenario that wasn’t bad news. We nervously joked that

maybe he had run off to Mexico, but knew that we were

grasping at straws.

First thing the next morning our company had an

all-hands meeting. I explained that Kurt was missing and

that it did not look good. The company settled into the

day, everyone quietly hoping and praying that this would

turn out all right. Karla dropped off her four-year-old at

Starsys before the police arrived at her house to get

involved with the search.

The call came in at nine that morning that they had

found the car at a trail head. I vividly remember what

happened next. With the leadership team around the

conference table, another call came from Karla with the

words, “Kurt’s gone. What am I going to do?”

While running in the mountains, Kurt had a fatal

heart attack. An avid backcountry skier and climber, he

was 45 years old and appeared in great health. I looked at

the people in the room with me, and the tears came.

While Jenny, our HR director, took Kurt’s son home, I

announced another all-hands meeting.

I stood in front of the room not

knowing what I was going to say. I had

always known that at some point I would

have to deal with a death in our

company. Since many of the folks are

involved in risky activities such as

climbing or motorcycle riding, I expected

this would be the cause—not a heart

attack. But here it was, and what was I

supposed to say and do? 

I spoke honestly from my heart, and

from my own experience as a father. It

was a struggle to get the words out

through the tears. Starsys is a closely knit

team of 100 people. I asked that the

family be in our prayers, and that people

do what they felt they needed to do

during the day—whether that was going

home, or working, or just talking. Everyone headed back

to their offices and the company settled into mourning

for Kurt.

That day people started to ask what they could do

to help the family. One of the engineers offered his

home, and about twenty people got together that night

to talk. Over the next couple days we set up a fund

where people could contribute dollars or vacation time

or comp time, and Starsys would translate that into

equivalent dollars and provide a matching contribution.

The contributions were astonishing. Several people

offered up a week of upcoming vacation. Spontaneous

and generous contributions also came in from the

companies Kurt had worked with.

Other forms of support came in, as well—such as

the letter that Michael Hecht from JPL wrote to Kurt’s
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 27

children describing all the special things that their father

had done for the Mars Program. With the letter, he sent

a package with Mars memorabilia.

The company continued to grieve throughout the

month. We left Kurt’s desk space untouched for a while.

When the time was right, Karla came in with the

children after hours, packed up Kurt’s belongings, and

took them home. As it turned out Kurt was quiet about

his accomplishments at work, and the family had little

knowledge of the details. We wrote the children a letter

that described all that he had done, and

the things that he contributed to the

space program.

Two weeks later we had an idea;

the last program he was working on was

Radarsat II. The Electronics Control

Unit (ECU) had some space on it where

a message could possibly be etched. We

asked Karla if the children would like to

put a message on the cover that would

be going up to the heavens to circle the

earth. When Karla said yes, we called Gary Heinemann,

the Project Manager on Radarsat II, and asked if we

could put a small message on the box. The call came

back the next day. They had checked with MacDonald

Dettwiler. Gary’s words were emphatic, “You put a

message on there and make it as big as you can!” Karla

and the kids each wrote a personal message, which was

then etched onto the cover of the ECU, visible on the

spacecraft for all to see.

A month afterwards, Karla asked if the family could

come to Starsys to say thank you. With the company in

the meeting room, Karla talked about how hard the

month had been and how thankful she was for the

people of Starsys and what they had done. Then she

explained that the children had a gift for us. Over the

next 10 minutes they quietly walked up to each of us,

said thank you, and handed us an origami crane that

they had made. It was an emotional closure to a very

rough month. Just about every office in the company

still has one of the cranes in some special place as a

reminder of Kurt.

So life continues. Karla and the kids remain

connected to Starsys and come to the company parties

and events. Since the loss, quite a few people have made

a point of stopping me and expressing a different

version of the same message: “I never understood what

people meant when they said Starsys was a ‘family.’

Now I know.” •

SCOTT TIBBITTS IS THE

PRESIDENT OF STARSYS RESEARCH IN

BOULDER, COLORADO. HIS STORY, “AS

SMALL AS POSSIBLE,” APPEARED IN

ASK 13. ALONG WITH RAY MORGAN,

TIBBITTS JOINS W. SCOTT CAMERON

AND TERRY LITTLE AS FEATURE

WRITERS FOR ASK, WHO WILL NOW

APPEAR IN ALTERNATE ISSUES.
Coming

ofAge
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 29

ne of the great perks I looked forward to when

I turned sixteen was being able to give up my paper route

and get a regular job. Paper routes are okay, but for a

young, timid kid who was afraid to ask for money, it often

proved to be a non-profit operation. At age sixteen, I could

get a social security number, which meant that I could go

get myself a real job.

BY RAY MORGAN
30 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

THE FIRST DAY OF SUMMER VACATION THAT YEAR, I RETIRED

from the paper route that had been in my family 

for nearly a decade (passed down brother to brother) and

I became a free agent. I had always wanted to be a

carpenter. I don’t know if it was because I just liked the

idea of working with wood, or if the ability to use noisy,

masculine tools like a hammer and a power saw just

made me feel more like a man, but, at sixteen, I saw

carpentry as the ultimate job.

I didn’t have much of a plan, so I simply drove

around to different construction sites that I found on the

outskirts of Greensboro, North Carolina. I would walk

around the site, telling whoever I saw I was looking for a

job, and eventually, just like an alien is always directed to

the leader of a country after deplaning from his flying

saucer, I would end up talking to the foreman on the site.

In North Carolina at that time, there were no

construction unions; hence, almost anyone who owned

a hammer and a screwdriver could call himself a

carpenter and have a fair chance of getting hired.

Minimum wage was $1.25 an hour; most “unknown”

workers, however, started even lower. One Mr. O.J. Wray

decided to take a chance and hired me at $1.10 an hour

to work as a finish carpenter’s helper. I actually didn’t

even own a hammer at that point.

When O.J. told me my job title, at first I imagined

working alongside a journeyman carpenter as his apprentice, and learning the skills of the ages. (Why, I bet by the

end of the summer I would probably know enough to

build my own house! My mom would be very proud.)

What I found out, though, was that a helper basically was

assigned to do hard or dirty jobs others didn’t want.

Initially, I cleared out leftovers from inside the house

and piled them in scrap heaps, swept dust from the

floors, and cleaned out corners where “other carpenters”

had taken a pee—with only occasional chances to work

with anyone who actually made things from wood.

One morning, I was finally given a chance to

advance my skills. O.J. needed someone to put down the

plywood under-flooring for linoleum that was to be laid

in a kitchen and dining room. O.J. was not given to

wasting words or time. He told me to bring my tools (by

this time I had acquired a hammer, a nail set, and a

screwdriver) and follow him to another house in a

nearby development, where O.J. gave me my first taste of

on-the-job training.

In the house, we found a stack of A-D grade,

1

/2-inch fir plywood, along with a box of 8-penny,

cement-coated nails. O.J. slid a sheet of plywood off the

top of the stack, moved it in position along one wall and

sank nails every four inches around the edge and every

eight inches through the middle, permanently bonding

it to the 1-by-4 fir sub-flooring. I was amazed how he

rarely took more than two blows of the hammer to drive

a nail, one to set and one to sink, with no apparent

effort. When he had me do it, I took about ten hits with

the hammer for each nail.

After taking a little time out to ridicule my hammer

technique, O.J. took a look at the pile of plywood, noticing

that the good, or “A,” side of the next piece was up and

that the “D” side (with all the knotholes) was down. He

gave me explicit instructions: “Take that plywood off the

stack just as it sits—do NOT turn it over.”

O.J. left me there alone to finish laying the kitchen

and dining area that morning, before lunch. Although it

bothered me when I saw that many of the sheets had

knotholes showing on the top, I was desperate to prove

I could do a good job, just as I had been told, and I wasn’t

Perhaps one of the largest

you can have in an organization is 

who gives an employee an unsolvable
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 31

about to turn one of the sheets over and get chewed out

for it. I assumed that O.J. knew something about the

wood that I couldn’t comprehend, and that the holes in

the top didn’t really matter once the matting and

linoleum were laid over them.

To avoid the ugly part of this story, just let me say

that it took me three days to get up what only took me

three hours to put down. I learned a great respect for

cement-coated nails. Using a crowbar, each sheet of the

fir plywood came up in small pieces, and most of the

nails had to be pulled out separately.

What made it worse for me, though, was the shame

and unfairness. O.J. had come back late in the day to see

what I had done. He assumed that I had ignored his

instructions about turning the plywood over, and he

never deigned to speak to me directly again. Instead, he

talked about me to the other carpenters, ridiculing my

skills and intelligence.

The other carpenters, of course, wouldn’t believe

my protests about doing just as I had been instructed;

they simply smiled and shook their heads when I tried to

explain. I ached for the chance to explain myself to O.J.,

but he never even acknowledged my presence after that

event. The humiliation was so bad, the next rainy day I

left and went looking for another job.

O.J. made several mistakes. Obviously,

he failed to explain to me his goal, or aim, of

creating a perfectly smooth surface for the

linoleum, so that holes and gaps would not

show through the flooring later on.

Secondly, he wrongly assumed that all the

“A” sides of the plywood faced up. Old O.J.

jumped to the conclusion that because the

first three sheets of the stack had the “A”, or

smooth side, up, that all the rest of the sheets shared

the same orientation. In fact, they did not; most of

them had the “D” side up, with lots of voids where

knotholes had fallen out.

But an overarching mistake, and one that was a

little less visible (but more endemic throughout the

business and government world) was that he “overconstrained” the problem. Left to my own intelligence,

even without telling me to put the smooth side up, I

would have flipped over the plywood that was upside

down, just because it looked bad to me. But, because he

constrained me with explicit directions not to turn the

plywood over, and because I had no direct access to

him to challenge this constraint when it became a

problem, I was unable to solve the problem using my

own brain.

I have seen this situation of over-constraining a

problem by absent decision makers, preventing its

solution, played out over and over in many organizations. To me, this is a form of delegating responsibility

without authority. This paradox is also a predominant

source of stress at work, and is perhaps one of the largest

morale breakers you can have in an organization: a

manager who gives an employee an unsolvable problem.

In my early days of running a division and having

my own employees, I’m sad to say that I emulated that

behavior more than once. At the time, I rationalized it.

Now, I know how wrong I was, and how I may have

ruined the morale of employees who only wanted to do

good work. I recognize that almost every time I didn’t get

what I wanted from an employee, it was because they

didn’t understand what I really expected from them, they

didn’t understand how to provide it, or there were

constraints placed on them that stopped them from

doing a good job.

I am sure O.J. is long dead and gone. He wasn’t

young when I worked for him. I think he would have

been amazed to learn what a long-lasting effect his

behavior that week in 1963 had on me. •

RAY MORGAN is head of Morgan Aircraft &

Consulting and a senior technical advisor to

NASA. He has published several articles in ASK

Magazine. His most previous, “PERT Charts Take

Precedence,” appeared in Issue 11. Along with

Scott Tibbitts, Morgan joins W. Scott Cameron and Terry Little as

feature writers for ASK, who will now appear in alternate issues.

morale breakers

a manager

problem.
32 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

The Accelerating Leadership Option (ALO) combines business management and

systems engineering studies at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT),

culminating in a Master of Science degree, with a one-year developmental

assignment. But the real result of ALO is a dynamic group of leaders who will shape

the future of NASA and its impact on the world.

The ALO program accelerates the development process of exceptionally promising

NASA project leaders to positions of increased responsibility. Participants in the

elite program are selected because of their technical expertise and proven

leadership abilities. Through ALO, APPL provides an opportunity for these midlevel project managers to learn with the best and from the best.

The first ALO class entered the program in 2000. In addition to earning their 

MIT degrees, recent participants have completed developmental activities with

IBM, Raytheon Corporation, EMC Corporation, Aerospace Corporation, National

Reconnaissance Office, NASA Headquarters Office of Earth Science, NASA

Headquarters Office of Aerospace Technology, and the International Space Station

Program Office. The goal of this phase of the program is to arrange an assignment

that is centrally involved with the mission of the participant’s home center, and that

takes advantage of the graduate’s training while providing new challenges.

Following center and agency approval, applicants must be accepted by both the ALO

program and MIT’s graduate school. APPL provides the funding for participants’

academic expenses, and centers support the developmental assignments. 

SPECIAL FEATURE: APPL’S ACCELERATING LEADERSHIP OPTION

by Freddie Douglas III

going
AFTER A LONG DAY OF TRAVEL, I FOUND MYSELF IN A HOTEL

elevator. I had recently graduated from NASA’s

Accelerated Learning Option (ALO) at MIT, and I was

proudly wearing my new school tee shirt and baseball

hat. Another man got on the elevator, turned to me and

asked, “When did you get your brass rat?” I understood

the reference to the school’s mascot, and I told my

elevator companion that I had just graduated in 2002.

Then the elevator door opened and we parted ways.

Two days later, the same gentleman approached me,

mentioned MIT and then asked where I worked. I

responded proudly, “NASA—Stennis Space Center.”

After twenty years of NASA service, I was

prepared to respond to what usually came next:

“Where is Stennis? What do you do? It must be

great to work for NASA.” That was not the case

this time.

The conversation turned immediately into

an attack on NASA. “The Agency,” the man told

me, “is a waste of tax dollars. It should be

disbanded and turned over to the private sector.” He was

very upset that NASA hasn’t reduced the cost of getting

payloads into orbit in order to make feasible the

commercialization of space. He demanded to know why

NASA hasn’t made space tourism a reality.

I gave my tried-and-true response: “NASA’s

missions return great value because they help improve

life here on earth.” But this time, my response fell on

deaf ears; the man was clearly angry that NASA hasn’t

opened space to the public. In the past, I might have

continued to try to give an easy answer, blaming

Congress or something like that. But since entering the

ALO program, I’ve come to accept that providing easy

answers rarely answers the real questions.

I gave his questions more thought, analyzing them

the way I had learned to during my tenure at MIT. I then

posed a question to him: “If you expect NASA to

commercialize space, have you considered how value is

derived from the process?” I explained that the commercialization of space is a function of reducing the cost of

getting payloads to orbit via new launch vehicle architectures. Little of this made sense to the businessman

with whom I was speaking, until I restated this position

in economic terms: markets, profits, value, and

customer. I won’t go into the details of the discussion

that ensued, but I will say that it could never have taken

place before I attended ALO.

Sometimes, we in NASA are so close to

the effort that we lose sight of the true value

of our work and how important it is for each

one of us to be able to explain that value

confidently and with conviction. Since

completing the ALO program, I have given

my work more thought, and have realized

that it’s not enough that we do our best here

at NASA to deliver cost-effective, high

quality services. We need to focus our cost

effectiveness and quality efforts on the

things that matter to the customer. Yes, we need to

deliver technically accurate services on time and within

budget, but we also need to consider the big picture of

value delivery, we need to address how specific stakeholders view value, and we need to concentrate our

efforts where we add value for our stakeholders.

That broader view, I would argue, is just the

beginning of the return on NASA’s investment in me. •

FREDDIE DOUGLAS III completed the 

APPL Accelerating Leadership Option (ALO)

program in 2002, obtaining a Master of Science

degree in Engineering and Management at the

Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He is currently the head

of the Systems Management Office at NASA’s John C. Stennis

Space Center in Mississippi. He can be contacted at

freddie.douglas-1@nasa.gov.

ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 33

We need to focus our cost effectiveness

and quality efforts on the things that

matter to the customer.

Sometimes, we in NASA are so close

to the effort that we lose sight of the

true value of our work and how

important it is for each one of us to be

able to explain that value confidently

and with conviction.
34 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

PRACTICES
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 35

S AY WHAT YOU MEAN

BY LYNDA RUTLEDGE

WHEN I FIRST STARTED WORKING FOR THE AIR FORCE, I HAD A HARD TIME UNDERSTANDING HOW WE

MAKE OUR SOURCE SELECTIONS.

WE HAND THE CONTRACTORS A REQUEST FOR PROPOSAL (RFP), AND WE DON’T TALK TO THEM A LOT

AFTER THAT. THEY COME BACK AND HAND US THEIR PROPOSAL; WE TAKE IT AND EVALUATE IT. WE WRITE

DOWN WHAT WE THINK IS WRONG WITH THE PROPOSAL—AGAIN, WE DON’T TALK TO THEM—AND, AFTER

THEY REVIEW OUR COMMENTS, THEY HAND US BACK A WRITTEN RESPONSE. 

AFTER ONE OF THESE EXCHANGES, I ASKED A CONTRACTING OFFICER, “WELL, WHY CAN’T WE JUST ASK

THEM QUESTIONS?” 

HE SAID, “OH NO, YOU CAN’T DO THAT. YOU MIGHT ASK THE WRONG THING.”
36 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

THINK ABOUT IT. WHEN WE GO OUT TO BUY A CAR, WE

would never hand over a sealed bid and pass information back and forth in writing without asking the

salesman a few questions about features or the way the

car handles. Not asking questions when we’re buying

something that’s never been built before seems even

more ludicrous to me. After source selection, we ask

questions, and the contractors answer us. We do this on

a daily basis—so, why would we do anything differently

during source selections when such openness could be

of tremendous benefit to the project? 

The source selection is intended to be nonconfrontational. The way I look at it, confrontation

makes sense while you can still do something to prevent

a misunderstanding and you can avoid making a costly

mistake. I can tell you all about the impact of a misunderstanding during the source selection phase. I’ve been

on a program in which the source selection process was

protested, and it was costly and painful.

Some of this don’t-talk policy comes down from the

Federal Acquisition Regulations, and then flows down

through Defense Federal Acquisition Regulations, and then

ultimately to the Air Force. When you start sorting through

all these layers you realize there really aren’t a whole lot of

rules there. We’ve put these constraints on ourselves.

DOING THINGS DIFFERENTLY

When I finally got a program of my own to manage, the

Small Diameter Bomb (SDB), I decided I wanted to do

things differently. At this point, I had already been on

one program that attempted to do source selections

differently—including using oral presentations to allow

contractors to make their proposals. Unfortunately, we

had to make so many concessions to appease the

contracting officer, who worried about a protest and the

resulting political fallout, that doing things differently

added very little value.

I had no stomach for revisiting that argument again,

but on SDB I put forward an acquisition strategy that

was much more aggressive in schedule than any of our

weapons systems that we had fielded from scratch.

Integral to my acquisition strategy was to get through

source selection very quickly. In order to do that, we had

to change the way we did business.

When I started to brief management on my strategy,

I decided to be straightforward about my intention to do

an open source selection with real time discussions. I

had a bullet on one of my slides that said:

• Oral proposals with real-time discussions

I thought, well, if I can sell it to the head of

contracting, I’m probably safe. During my brief, I

watched his face to see if he cringed. No reaction. I stood

there for a few seconds more.

“What I mean by this,” I said, “is that we’re going to all

sit in a room together, and the contractors are going to give

their proposals, and we’re going to ask them questions.”

He said, “I understand you.”

I usually don’t ask permission, I just ask forgiveness,

as the saying goes—but in this case I couldn’t believe my

ears. I said, “So, you don’t think anyone is going to have

a problem with this?” He said, “No. Go ahead. Try it. Let

us know how it works.”

I thought, declare victory, uncork the champagne;

but that was somewhat premature.

Next stop was our industry partners. I thought they

were going to love this. All I’ve ever heard from them is,

“Government never communicates what it really wants

in an RFP.”

So, I told them this: “There will be no big written

volumes that you have to submit, not even for costs.

Everything is going to be done orally, the same way that

you do business with us every day after source selection.

We’re going to sit in a room together and we’re going to

hash things out until we understand one another. Then

we’re going to give you your evaluation. We’ll tell you

everything along the way.”

I wasn’t ready for their reaction. They started

shifting in their seats and looked uncomfortable. I said,

“Well, what’s wrong? You’ve always said that we don’t

communicate well in our RFPs.”

A vice president of one of the companies said, “What

if one of my guys screws up and says the wrong thing?”

I said, “If he’s the one that knows the technical

business, if he’s the one who is the expert who can

answer the questions, then that’s who you need to put

up there. And you need to trust us.”

Again, the fidgeting started.

WHEN YOU START SORTING THROUGH ALL

THESE LAYERS YOU REALIZE THERE REALLY

AREN’T A WHOLE LOT OF RULES THERE. WE’VE

PUT THESE CONSTRAINTS ON OURSELVES. 

PRACTICES CONTINUED
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 37

“You will have the right to strike anything from the

record you don’t want,” I said.

They still didn’t know if they liked it. We listened to

a lot of “what-ifs.” Finally, I said, “I hear your concerns.

I understand them. I’ll take full responsibility for this if

it doesn’t work out.”

STRAIGHT SPEAK

First, we did a dry run. Each of the three contractors

competing for the award had the opportunity to give an

eight-hour briefing, just as they would when the stakes

were for real. Ultimately, the contract we signed was

going to be based on their updated briefing charts.

In the dry run, we gave them candid feedback. We

told them what we thought they had done wrong, what

they misunderstood in the RFP, and they were then able

to say to us, “When you said in your RFP this statement,

that’s what it meant to us.”

We said, “Well then, how can we modify our RFP so

you understand what we mean?” And they told us.

There were two things we got out of that. Number

one, the contractors better understood what we

were asking for. Number two, we understood better how

they were interpreting our RFP, so that we could clarify

our document.

We gave them their feedback and said, “Here is

where we think you are. Here is what we rank you as of

right now.” They had the opportunity to say, “We

disagree with you.” We did change some scores based on

information that we got. Sometimes we upgraded them.

One time we actually downgraded a contractor.

Some said, “I still think you don’t understand; you

got it wrong, and I think I should have a better score

than you gave me.” As part of the dry runs, we allowed

them to appeal to the source selection authority and

gave them the opportunity to tell their side of the story.

The source selection authority was able to ask questions

and uncover details about what we had done and why

we had done it. Ultimately, as a result of that process,

some of the scores did change. It didn’t change the

overall outcome of the source selection, but the contractors felt that they had been heard.

Doing the dry runs made the contractors feel a lot

more comfortable. When it came time to hold the official

oral presentations, no one complained that the process

was unfair. No one protested.

Afterwards, I called up some of the contractors 

who weren’t selected and asked, “Well, are you

going to ask for your day in court with the source

selection authority?” They all said no. The process was

fair, they agreed.

Doing a source selection this way isn’t just about

saving time and killing fewer trees; I chose to use this

approach in part because I like to talk to people and look

them in the eye. It goes with my straight-speak approach

to project management. I’ll tell you exactly what I’m

thinking, and I expect you to do the same. It sets the

tone for the kind of relationship I want to have with my

contractors after the selection, and I think it has an

impact on results, too. Communication is the key to

success; so why wait to get the talking started? •

NO TRANSLATION NECESSARY

“Besides English, LYNDA RUTLEDGE is fluent in

two languages, Spanish and straight-speak,” says

Terry Little, who has worked with Rutledge on the

Joint Air to Surface Standoff Missile (JASSM) program. “Now, there

is no country named Straight-speak. In fact, the language of

straight-speak has almost gone the way of Latin in our business, at

least in the Department of Defense.” 

Rutledge began her Air Force career in 1989 as a mathematician in the Freeman Mathematical Laboratory. She later transferred to JASSM as a systems engineer, and then managed the

concept exploration and planning of what is now the Small

Diameter Bomb (SDB) program. She served as the SDB Program

Manager at Eglin Air Force Base in Florida until March 2002. She

is currently Deputy Director of the Precision Strike System Program

Office at Eglin.

“I think one of the most refreshing things about Lynda,” adds

Little, “is that she says what's on her mind. She says it clearly, and she

says it without equivocation. That, it seems to me, is at the root of why

she has so much credibility in the Defense acquisition community.”

A technician mounts the Small Diameter Bomb for deployment.

THE BOEING COMPANY
38 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

INTERVIEW 

”

Certainly in ten years 

from now, we will 

be viewed as having 

been very wise to have

pursued space exploration.

Is it worth the risks?

Absolutely.

“
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 39

WILLIAM READDY

As Associate Administrator for 

Space Flight at NASA, William

Readdy has spent much of the last

year addressing Agency plans for

future Shuttle missions in the wake

of the Columbia accident. But

Readdy’s connection to the Shuttle

dates back much farther. A member

of the astronaut corps since 1987,

he has logged 672 hours in space

on three Shuttle missions (STS-42,

STS-51, and STS-79).
READDY GRADUATED FROM THE UNITED STATES NAVAL

Academy in 1974. After eleven years service as a naval

aviator and test pilot, he joined NASA in 1986 as a

research pilot. His technical assignments to date have

included Training and Safety Officer, Orbiter project

staff; NASA Director of Operations in Star City, Russia;

and Space Shuttle Program Development Manager.

Mr. Readdy is the recipient of the Distinguished

Flying Cross; Space Flight Safety Award; NASA’s

Distinguished Service Medal; two NASA Outstanding

Leadership medals; two NASA Exceptional Service

medals; three NASA Space Flight medals; the Legion

of Merit; the Meritorious Service Medal; Navy

Commendation, Achievement, and Expeditionary

medals; two National Defense Service medals; the

Armed Forces Expeditionary and Reserve medals; and

various unit and service awards.

On August 6, 2002, NASA Administrator Sean

O’Keefe named Readdy the Associate Administrator 

for Space Flight.

In addition to your current work, you remain a member

of the astronaut corps. Clearly, the loss of the Columbia

hit close to home for you. Has it been difficult to listen to

the criticism aimed at NASA in the wake of Columbia?

Faced with a situation like this, you can either be defensive

or you can be receptive. Maybe all of the input that you’ll

get won’t be exactly correct, but if you focus on what’s not

perfect in what you’re hearing, then you don’t learn.

We (NASA) need to learn from this experience.

Even bad situations like this one can be good learning

experiences.

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned from STS-107,

it’s that when you get too pleased with how you’re

doing, that’s when you really need to start feeling

uncomfortable that you’re missing something.

When you addressed the Return to Flight team last year,

you emphasized the importance of forging new leadership for NASA’s space flight missions. How have you set

out to accomplish that?

The first thing I tried to do was to articulate those

qualities, those attributes that I wanted in our leadership.

One of the things that I realized was that I wanted

someone with broad experience to manage the Shuttle

program. At the very top of the list of what I was 

looking for—in addition to the broad background—

had to be the leadership, the integrity, and the people

skills to be able to manage a program across all of the

different populations of projects, programs, Centers,

and contractors.

At the end of the day, my selection was Bill

Parsons—not your traditional mold of someone who

has gone up through the project management ranks, or

someone who has been brought up in engineering or in

mission operations, but somebody with a very broad

background ideally suited to fit this position.

I’m not saying that there was only one single

person in the whole Western Hemisphere who could

do the job. There were other people with those skills—

but many of them absolutely had to stay in their

current positions because they were essential to other

aspects of Return to Flight. They had such unique skill

sets; we couldn’t move them without causing other

dominos to fall.

How did the project community receive your selection?

I have to tell you that there were a lot of people who

were blown away by the selection, because it was so far

“outside the box.” It wasn’t a traditional selection.

There were a number of different considerations

that went into all the selections I have made postColumbia. I think that points to a couple of things.

One is that before you get into thinking about who you

want to fill a position, you need to be thinking about

what skill set, what attributes, what qualities you’re

looking for.

40 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

INTERVIEW CONTINUED

Pilot Stephen Oswald, Commander Ronald Grabe, and

Mission Specialist William Readdy show school spirit

aboard Discovery on STS-42.
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 41

An experience like this must force you to reflect on your

own responsibility as a leader. It’s not just a matter of

what NASA needs to do, but what does William Readdy

need to do?

The thing to do is to use the people around you as

sounding boards. When you’re grappling with a problem,

the first assumption you have to make is that your

problem is not completely unique. That people have dealt

with similar problems before—maybe not in your organization, but in another organization, in another company,

in another place—maybe another time.

I don’t hesitate to ask for advice. I seek out mentors.

Sometimes it’s people that have dealt with the same

problem. Usually, older, wiser people, but not always.

Sometimes it’s mentors in the form of books.

If you take a look at my library, you won’t find a lot

of program management books. An awful lot of the

books I read are by people like Ben Franklin and

Theodore Roosevelt. There is a book, Lincoln on

Leadership; it’s a spectacular book that I’ve gotten a lot of

insight from. We’re experiencing some of the same

problems that Lincoln had with his leaders. People

haven’t changed fundamentally, and they’ve been

solving problems since time immemorial.

Again, the first thing to understand is that your

problem is probably not totally unique, no matter what

the problem. As tragic and horrific on an Agency and

personal level as STS-107 was, it was not absolutely

unique, in terms of how to deal with it.

Did you always want to work for NASA? Is your interest

in space exploration something that dates back to when

you were a child?

It started in third grade, listening to John Glenn’s

flight on the public address system in my school. We

were all in the cafeteria listening. I wasn’t paying

attention. My teacher whacked me on the knuckles

Space Shuttle Discovery opens its cargo bay doors during STS-51. William Readdy piloted the mission in September 1993.

”If there’s one thing 

that I’ve learned from

STS-107, it’s that when

you get too pleased

with how you’re doing,

that’s when you really

need to start feeling

uncomfortable that

you’re missing

something.

“
and told me to pay attention; she told me that this was

really important stuff.

I started paying attention. During the Apollo years, I

followed every single one of those missions down in my

basement watching on the TV and following the news.

What did you hear in that John Glenn broadcast after

you got your knuckles rapped? What captured your

imagination?

Actually, I think it was the attention I got from

the teacher.

On top of that, I remember even at the time being

aware that there was real drama associated with the

flight, and not just the excitement of the liftoff, but every

part of it. It was just something that made a big impression at the time. Eventually, many years later, I got to

meet John Glenn.

So you were hooked on space flight?

After Apollo, there was a hiatus. By that time, I was

starting to fly in the Navy, and I guess I lost track of what

was happening in space.

I just wasn’t paying much attention at all to NASA,

except that I remember some of the Shuttle development work—hearing about people flying the approach

and landing tests. I remember thinking that was a dream

job for a test pilot.

Eventually, I became a Navy test pilot myself.

The first thing they did was to take us down to the

Johnson Space Center as they were preparing for the

STS-1 mission. I knew then that was something that I

had to do.

What do you consider your biggest challenge now at this

stage of your career as Associate Administrator? What

gets you passionate now?

I think it’s still our missions. The missions that we do are

so special. Take human space flight or Shuttle, for

example. There is a tendency, certainly in this town and

elsewhere, as well, to view this kind of work as beenthere, done-that, got-the-t-shirt work.

I think that most of that evaporated on the morning

of February 1, 2003 when people realized this is really

tough stuff. There was nothing routine about it, and

there won’t be in the near future.

If you think about the 81⁄2 minutes of the Shuttle’s

ascent and about the hour or so of reentry, and then the

five minutes as a fly-by-wire, 100-ton glider, we

probably have about 120 or so hours, total, of dynamic

flight in all of Shuttle history. Compare that to the

thousands and thousands of hours that you would have

before you would field a new generation fighter or a

commercial airplane.

This is the first generation really of space travel.

We’re still learning a lot.

INTERVIEW CONTINUED

The Space Shuttle Atlantis (STS-79) roars into the night

on liftoff, September 16, 1996. Leading the crew is

Commander William Readdy.

42 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP
ASK 16 FOR PRACTITIONERS BY PRACTITIONERS 43

What is your response to the naysayers who believe it’s too

risky to put people in space? Why have manned missions?

We, believe me, are very aware of what the risks are, even

if everybody else isn’t. Certainly our families are. We

think it’s worth it. We continue to learn more and more

things. We continue to make that foundation that will

allow us to push back the boundaries of the unknown.

Ultimately, though, it’s not about us. It’s about the

future—the future we’ll leave behind for our kids.

Do you worry that the public has become less enamored

of space exploration?

No, I don’t. But I also know that we have a continuing

obligation to communicate and educate the public.

There is no doubt about that.

Every time I go out and talk to people, I ask them

how much they think our country spends on space. I

start out by saying, "Okay, here is your Federal tax dollar.

How much of this goes to space? Thirty cents on the

dollar? Twenty cents on the dollar?" Typically all the

hands in the room are up by the time I get to ten cents

on the dollar.

Then I tell them it’s less than a penny for all of

NASA, before we start getting even lower than that to

what actually goes to human space flight. They’re always

astounded the number is so low.

When I think of the benefits that we’ve already

derived from space exploration over the last few decades,

and the investment that we’ve made in our future,

it astounds me, as well. And there is so much more

to come.

I believe that an International Space Station will

be blindingly successful, far beyond Hubble Space

Telescope’s success even, in terms of relevance to people

all over the world. We can’t afford to turn our backs on

the program.

I think we’ll hear a resounding “yes” at the end of

the day. Certainly in ten years from now, we will be

viewed as having been very wise to have pursued space

exploration. Is it worth the risks? Absolutely.

How do we get from where we are today, to where you see

us going?

We need to be determined to meet our Return to

Flight objectives. This will be a process that we will

need to recalibrate and recertify each and every day.

We will have to earn back trust one day at a time, one

launch at a time, one mission at a time, and one

landing at a time. This is exactly what I’ve told my

Return to Flight team.

But, of course, you can talk all you want, and if

that’s not how you comport yourself, if that’s not how

you actually live, then it won’t have any lasting credibility. As individuals and as an Agency, we must be

anxious to learn from our mistakes, and we must be

persistent in the face of adversity. Few will remember

what we said, but it is my fondest hope that years from

now, all will marvel at what we, together, have done. •
44 APPL THE NASA ACADEMY OF PROGRAM AND PROJECT LEADERSHIP

A CLOSE COLLEAGUE OF MINE HAS TAUGHT AND WRITTEN

extensively about strategic planning and project

planning. In fact, he is regarded as an expert on these

subjects. Observe his actual behavior, however, and it is

clear that he is a very poor planner indeed. Rarely does

he take time to plan anything systematically. What’s

more, my friend was completely unaware of this wide

gap between his espoused theory

and his “theory-in-use,” until I felt

obliged to point this out to him.

Unfortunately, unawareness

seems to be the norm rather than

the exception. Let me offer

another example, this one about

myself. In 1991, following seven

years of extensive research on

project planning in a dynamic environment, I was ready

to test my research results. Procter & Gamble (P&G)

met my requirements for a successful organization

operating in a dynamic environment. My key message

to P&G was this: "Project success depends primarily on

planning and control, which accommodate uncertainty." I stressed the need for successive refinements of

plans, for experimenting, for prototyping, and for

managing by moving about.

As I started interacting with individuals and teams,

I found that the most experienced and successful project

managers had already applied many of my concepts,

though not always in the most systematic and formal

manner. That was expected and fell in line with my

charter. I was supposed to try and introduce these

concepts in a formal way throughout the company.

What I didn’t anticipate is that these experienced

and successful project managers applied a major concept

that was not part of my arsenal. They practiced

teamwork. I observed through my own eyes how they all

behaved on the job. They spent a great deal of effort to

develop teamwork based on trust and mutual interdependence. They practiced it religiously, and it was central

to the way they managed their projects.

I received the message directly from so many different

individuals and always in an unambiguous way. It was

almost impossible to ignore the importance of teamwork.

It was clear that I would have

to change my message. More

importantly, I had to change my

mindset, quickly and fundamentally. And I did. The only difficult

thing to understand was why I

hadn’t already recognized the value

of teamwork to project success.

During the 1970s, prior to

joining university life, I worked for about eight years as a

practitioner, first as a project engineer and later as a

project manager. Looking back, I saw that my implicit

“theory in use" as a practitioner was trust-based

teamwork. But when I started my career as a researcher

I somehow—without any noticeable difficulty—assumed

the prevailing academic mindset in construction

management circles, which at the time completely

ignored teamwork.

But how had I lived for more than ten years

without recognizing the gap between my own theoryin-use and my espoused theory? Peter Senge, from

MIT, asserts that this gap is quite common, and

explains that it is difficult to notice your own theoryin-use because "the eye cannot see itself." Senge

suggests that you may want to ask the help of a good

friend, a "ruthlessly compassionate" friend, to help you

recognize your theory-in-use. I could have used such a

friend ten years earlier. As did my friend, whom I

started this story by telling you about. •

The Eye Cannot See Itself

For learning to take place, we must recognize the gap between our espoused

theories and our actual behavior

FROM THE EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Dr. Alexander Laufer

They all spent a great 

deal of effort to develop

teamwork based on trust

and mutual interdependence.

NP-2004-01-333-HQ