MANAGING NASA 

IN THE APOLLO ERA 

National Aeronautics and Space Administration 
MANAGING NASA 

IN THE APOLLO ERA 

NASA SP-4102 

MANAGING NASA 

IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Arrwld S. Levine 

The NASA History Series 

Scientific and Technical Information Branch 1982 

National Aeronautics and Space Administration 

Washington, D.C. 
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data 

Levine, Arnold S. 

Managing NASA in the Apollo era. 

NASA special publication; 4102 

Bibliography: p. 

Includes index. 

I. United States. National Aeronautics and Space Administration-History. I. Title. 

TL521.312.L38 353.0085'6 81-16847 

AAC

For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office 

Washington, D.C. 20402 
We can lick gravity, but sometimes the paperwork is 

overwhelming. 

Wernher von Braun 

Art is I; science is we. 

Claude Bernard 

Contents 

Page 

FoREWORD ..... ..... ........ ...... . . . ..•............... . . . ....... . x1 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Xlll 

INTRODUCTION.. . ... . . . . ...... . ..... . ....................... .. ... . .. . XV 

CHAPTER 1. KEY ADMINISTRATIVE DECISIONS OF NASA's FIRST DECADE . .. . . 

CHAPTER 2. THE MAKING OF NASA POLICY, 1958-1969 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 

The Origins of NASA... ........ ... ... .......... .... .. .. . . .... .. . . 9 

The Transfer of Programs to NASA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 

The Lunar Landing Decision and Its Aftermath . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 

The Initial Payoff, 1963-1966 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22 

From Apollo 204 to Apollo 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24 

CHAPTER 3. HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION, OR THE VIEW FROM THE 

SEVENTH FLOOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 

Creating a Headquarters Organization, October 1958-January 1961 ... ... . 28 

Turn and Counterturn, 1961-1963 .. : . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 

The Situation at the End of 1966. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 

Organizational Changes, 196 7-1968 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53 

Conclusion: What Did Top Management Do?. . . . . .. . . . ... . . ....... . .. 61 

CHAPTER 4. THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS: CONTRACTING FOR 

RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT ... . . .... .... .. . .... .. . . . .. ...... : . 65 

A Summary of NASA Contracting Philosophy. . ....... .. . .. .. .. ... . . . . 65 

Origins of Government by Contract . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68 

Vll 
Ml\NAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

How NASA Learned To Deal With Its Contractors, 1958-1962..... ..... 

The Bell Report and Its Aftermath, 1962-1963 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The NASA Acquisition Process Evaluated. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The Integrity of the NASA Civil Service Staff . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Selection Criteria and Their Effectiveness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Use of Incentive Provisions .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

CHAPTER 5. NASA MANPOWER POLICY... ......... .. . . .... ...... .... . ... 

Introduction ............. ...... ... ... . ........ ... ... • . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The Making of NASA Manpower Policy .......... ............. .. .... 

NASA Excepted and Supergrade Positions, 1958-1968 .. . . . ......... ... . 

Characteristics of the NASA Work Force . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Support Service Contracts and the General Accounting Office. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Personnel Management Policy, 1967-1969 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Personnel Retrenchments, 196 7-1969 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Some Conclusions. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

CHAPTER 6. PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION . ...... . . .... ....... 

. Prerequisites for Successful Planning. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Program Review. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Advanced Studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

R&D Project Planning and Approval. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Cost-Estimating Procedures. .. .... ..... . . . .... ... .. ..... ... ... . . .. .. 

Phased Project Planning, 1965-1969 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Four Approaches to R&D Programming. . .......... .. ....... ......... 

Conclusions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

CHAPTER 7. THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The Functions of the Bureau of the Budget. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Difficulties in Reviewing the NASA Budget . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

How the NASA Budget Was Formulated. ... ..... . ............ . . ..... 

Federal R&D Spending in the 1960s. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Trends in NASA Program Categories . ....... ....... ... ... .... ... .... 

Phasing Down the Space Program, 1965- 1970 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

lll V
CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 8. THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS .................. 211 

The Scope of Interagency Relations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211 

The Beginnings of a Division of Labor: Advent and Syncom .... .... .. . ... 214 

NASA-DOD Relations, 1959-1963 .. ........... . . . .................. 217 

Gemini and the MOL Decision, January 1963-August 1_965 ............. 230 

Conclusions. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235 

CHAPTER 9. NASA's LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 .. ................ 239 

Origins of NASA Planning, 19 59-1963 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . 239 

The Future Programs Task Group, 1964-1965 ................ . ..... .. 242 

The Situation in Mid-1966 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24 7 

The Role of the Outside Advisor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249 

Toward a Post-Apollo NASA, September 1966-0ctober 1968 . . . . . . . . . . . . 253 

The End of a Decade-Report of the President's Space Task Group, 

October 1968-0ctober 1969 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257 

The Adequacy of NASA Planning-Institutional Considerations .. . ....... 261 

CHAPTER 10. SUMMARY CONCLUSIONS ......... .. ..... .... .... .. . ........ 267 

NOTES .................................. .. .......................... 275 

APPENDIX A. A NOTE ON SOURCES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301 

APPENDIX B. ABBREVIATIONS AND ACRONYMS CITED IN TEXT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 305 

APPENDIX C. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF PRINCIPAL NASA OFFICIALS ... . . .. 307 

APPENDIX D. TYPES OF CONTRACTS AUTHORIZED BY NASA . . . ... . ...... . .. 313 

APPENDIX E. CHRONOLOGY OF ADMINISTRATIVE AND OTHER EVENTS, 

1957- 1969 .... . .... ....... .... .. . ................. .... . . ... .... 315 

INDEX .................... .. ............. . .......... ....... .. ... .... 331 

Illustrations 

Tables 

Table 4- 1. - Distribution of direct NASA procurements, FY 1960-1968 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 

Table 4- 2. - Average schedule slippage factor for various classes of projects . . . . . . . . . . . . 82 

Table 4- 3. - Average schedule slippage factor by center . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83 

Table 4- 4. - Nonpersonal service contracts: Number of Government and contract 

personnel, 30 June 1962- 31 May 1968.......... . . . .. . . . .. . ......... . ... . . .. . 93 

lX 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Table 4-5.- Competition in NASA awards to business firms, FY 1961-1968 . . . . . . . . . . 

Table 4-6. - Breakdown of SEB and non-SEB cases, 19 58-1965. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Table 5-1. -NASA scientists and engineers as a percentage of NASA employment, 

1960-1968... . .. . ........... . ................... ..... . .. . . .... .. .. . . ... . . 

Table 5-2.- Organizational sources of NASA in-house scientists and engineers.. . . . .... 

Table 5-3. - Total scientists and engineers on NASA work by program office, 

30 June 1964 . .. ... . .. .................. . ... ... . ... . . ......... .. .. . . . ... . 

Table 5-4. - NASA requirements for scientists and engineers compared with national 

requirements, 1960- 1970. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Table 5-5.- Reductions in permanent civil service employees, 31 July 1967-

30June1970 . ... . .. . . . .. . . ... . . ........ .... .. . .. ... .. . . .. ....... . . .. . .. . 

Table 6-1.- Cost growth in selected R&D projects, 1958-1966, in millions of dollars .. . 

Table 7-1. - NASA requests, authorizations, appropriations, obligations, and 

disbursements-all appropriations, 1959-1968, in millions of dollars. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Table 7-2.- NASA budget requests and appropriations, FY 1959-1971, in millions of 

dollars . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figures 

Frontispiece- Eighth NASA management conference, Ames Research Center, 

31 October-1 November 1963. 

Figure 2-1. - Apollo launch vehicles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 3-1.- NASA organization chart, 17 January 1961 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 3-2.- NASA organization chart, 1 November 1961. . .. ...... .. .. .... . . . .. . .. 

Figure 3-3. - T . Keith Glennan, NASA Administrator from August 1958 to 

January 1961 . . . ... . . . . . .. .. . .. . . . . .... . .... .. .. .. ....... . .... . .. . ..... . . 

Figure 3-4.- James E. Webb, NASA Administrator from February 1961 to 

October 1968 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 3-5. - Thomas 0. Paine, NASA Administrator from March 1969 to 

October 1970 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 3-6. - Hugh L. Dryden, NASA Deputy Administrator from October 1958 

to December 1965 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 3-7. - Robert C. Seamans, Jr., Smith De'France, and James E. Webb.. . .... .. . 

Figure 3-8. - Wernher von Braun and Raymond Bisplinghoff. .. ........ . ... . ....... 

Figure 3-9. - Homer E. Newell, James E. Webb, and Abe Silverstein . ... . .. .. .... ... 

Figure 3-10.- NASA organization chart, 1 November 1963. ... . . . .... . . . ... . . .. ... . 

Figure 3-11. - NASA organization chart, 2 January 1966 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 3-12.- NASA organization chart, 15 March 1967 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 3-13. - NASA organization chart, 1 May 1968 . . . . .. ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 4-1.- Number of incentive contracts under administration by type of contract, 

FY 1961-1966 . . . . ... . ....... . . .. . . . .. . ..... .. .. .. .. . ... .. ............ . . . 

Figure 6-1. - The OSSA organization as of 1967 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 7-1.- Federal R&D expenditures, FY 1960- 1972 . .. ... . . .. . .. . . .. . . .. .' ... . 

Figure 7-2. - Ratio of R&D expenditures to total outlays, FY 1960-1972 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Figure 7-3. - Space research and technology expenditures by function . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

X 
Foreword 

F ew things can better serve managers undertaking leadership roles in 

large, complex, technology-based organizations than knowing how 

other such organizations have coped with the problems that must be 

solved to achieve success. Yet few studies of the administrative records 

provide detailed case studies of how very large research and development programs have been managed, or what has worked and why. The 

same is true of large, nontechnical endeavors. We have Sapolsky's study 

of Polaris development, Hewlett and Anderson on the origins of the 

Atomic Energy Commission, Peck and Scherer on the weapons acquisition process, Sayles and Chandler on managing large systems, and with 

this book, Arnold Levine's Managing NASA in the Apollo Era. 

Dr. Levine's approach and his large investment of time to study the 

detailed record of documents and interviews, together with his institutional viewpoint, rather than one that is program-oriented, make this an 

important book. He takes the entire agency, rather than any single 

component or program, as the subject of his study, emphasizing those 

features that NASA shared with other federal agencies in the 1960s and 

with previous large developmental efforts. In addition, Levine seeks 

differences from other such efforts in the cause-effect coupling in 

NASA's approach to management. Specific administrative actions are 

placed within the context of the larger whole. While documenting and 

describing NASA's formal organizational structure, Levine concentrates 

on those key policy decisions that ultimately shaped the agency: reliance 

on the American industrial establishment, not as vendors, but as research 

and development partners; sharing decision-making with the centers to 

the fullest extent possible; avoidance of bureaucratic delays and inertia at 

headquarters; injection of the profit motive into a traditional cost-plus 

environment; consciously and continuously striving to retain NASA's 

freedom of action to move forward with strength in those areas necessary 

xi 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

for success in its missions, even when the concurrence of other offi

and agencies 'was delayed; finally, extensive use of the Departmen

Defense for contract management and launch and of military perso

in key management positions in NASA itself. This book, by implicat

shows that NASA found many traditional management axioms do 

apply within the large, complex R&D organization-axioms like "

defined areas of authority and responsibility," "unity of comma

"one man, one boss," or "centralized operations." These princi

often work well in static organizations, but more is needed if dyna

large-scale endeavors are to succeed. He describes the role of the fed

R&D manager as above all a political one in the sense that he must 

ways for inter-personal and inter-organizational relationships to b

positive, rather than a negative, element in achieving the desired res

If NASA program managers, scientists, engineers, and top officials 

not thought of their work in political (personal political and organ

units-political) terms, if they had not arranged their activities to 

support from other NASA divisions, Congress, the Bureau of the Bud

the scientific community, etc.-Apollo would not have met its goals

An important vaiue of this book, I think, is in Dr. Levine's me

lous examination of the record for evidence to demonstrate why 

NASA structure was adequate to deal with some of the most com

problems any organization has had to face. And increasingly, l

organizations confronted with novel technical problems-be they pu

agencies, multinational corporations, or joint public-private ventures 

the civilian space program-will find the NASA approach of a loo

coupled, decentralized organization an effective means of managing 

large-scale endeavors. In this regard, Dr. Levine finds, and I believe, 

three lessons can be derived from the NASA experience. The first is 

political relationships are not (nor can they be) something added o

the work of line managers or program officials as less important 

other duties; these relationships are an integral part of their w

inasmuch as personal relationships and a sensitivity to the total envi

ment are essential parts of leadership responsibilities if the system 

work at all. 

The second lesson to be derived is that a decentralized organiza

can be made compatible with precise objectives and timely performa

During the 1960s, Deputy Administrator Hugh Dryden, Associate 

ministrator Robert Seamans, and I went to considerable lengths bot

delegate authority to center directors and project managers whom 

had tested by experience or knew from past associations, and to m

explicit our reasons for doing so. Levine gives a long list of functio

planning, procurement, launch management, inspection-that c

have been, but were not, concentrated at the headquarters level. 

xu 
FOREWORD 

philosophy was to give the field installations and their industrial partners 

the widest discretion compatible with agency missions. The missions 

NASA was assigned almost dictated considerable autonomy and freedom 

to innovate at several levels in the organization, while carefully keeping 

within the framework provided by the Space Act. 

The third lesson follows from the second. NASA could not have 

accomplished its missions without the ability to adapt to continuous 

change. By adapting I include not only the numerous reorganizations of 

the 1960s, but also constant attention to the mechanisms introduced to 

provide senior management with reliable feedback. This is what lay 

behind the creation of an executive secretariat, the exchange of officials 

between headquarters and the centers, the development of sophisticated 

reporting systems, and the constant strengthening of the role of the 

headquarters program manager as a link between the agency's general 

manager and the centers. Equally important, Dr. Dryden, Dr. Seamans, 

and I recognized that reliable feedback requires a flow of information in 

two directions. Our objective was to ensure that NASA employees, from 

executives to a point far down the line, understood rather precisely what 

was to be their role in accomplishing specific missions and that NASA 

senior officials also understood those factors which most affected the 

performance of those same executives down the line. 

This book, in focusing tightly on issues of organization and governance, to some extent, scants the richness and variety within NASA. I 

would have liked something about the sustaining university program and 

the continuing effort to foster interdisciplinary teams at the universities, 

our international policies, and our attempt to utilize effectively the 

technologies developed by NASA and its contractors. But these omissions are minor in a work that has much to say to public administrators, 

managers of large-scale research and development programs, and students of the relation of science and public policy. 

· At a time when thoughtful observers, including the editors of the 

Harvard Business Review, are asking, "Do the assumptions on which its 

market economy rests still have meaning for American Society?" and 

emphasizing such subjects as "The Morality of the Market Place" and 

"Capitalism and Freedom," I believe students of administration should 

seek the effect on NASA's success of such policies as the openness of 

NASA programs, and the fact that we could say to the press and the 

scientists and engineers of the eighty nations cooperating, "Come and 

bring your camera." Dr. Dryden, Dr. Seamans, and I, in making the 

substantive and administrative decisions, constantly and deliberately 

sought to spread our most difficult problems over the largest possible 

number of able minds and to develop means to evaluate, from the 

broadest national and international viewpoints, the concepts and proposXlll 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

als that resulted. We could not know what some of this large num

could invent, but we strongly felt many innovative ideas would eme

from a widespread invitation to work on the problems related to 

understanding of the solar system and the universe beyond. We c

stantly sought to develop and employ ways through which all 

individuals, organizations, institutions, and government units could bu

strength for their own purposes while adding to NASA strengths. O

policy was not to draw strength from our partners in such a way a

weaken them, but rather to participate with them in a framework 

helped both of us reach our own main objectives. 

As to long-range planning, on which Dr. Levine sets down 

documentation and finds our efforts inadequate, contrary to m

assertions that we had a "blank check," NASA was constantly faced w

strong public and private opposition to manned spaceflight. NASA 

constantly warned by those political, educational, press, and cong

sional sources who were most supportive that any evidence of comm

ment to a large, long-term, expensive program beyond Apollo wo

lose us the margin of strength needed to finish Apollo. In fact, sev

near successful efforts were made by influential leaders to cut back 

Apollo to the point that we could not assure success. I, myself, and m

NASA senior executives were convinced that if Apollo resulted in on

more failures, and was curtailed or eliminated, the monuments to s

failure would be visible for a long time in many places-as symbol

U.S. inability to see the project through and master the problem

operating in space. In fact, Apollo and other manned spaceflight proj

gave our citizens and those of many other countries tremendous p

and encouragement. Levine summed this up when he wrote: "We

(really the senior executive group) "became more determined than e

to salvage Apollo, even if it meant postponing decisions about 

sequel." In fact, just as we needed Gemini to guide our work on Apo

until we had digested the Apollo experience, it was difficult to make f

creditable plans for larger manned missions. 

In all the welter of problems and daily immersion of NASA se

executives in both the substantive and administrative issues and acti

which Dr. Levine describes, Dr. Dryden, Dr. Seamans, and I never 

sight of the underlying concept that, in our haste, we must not 

shortcuts that were not consistent with the basic values on which 

democratic society was based. 

James E. W

june 1982 NASA Administrator, 1961-1

XIV 
Acknowledgments 

T he research on which this book is based could not have been carried out 

without the assistance of hundreds of persons within NASA and elsewhere. 

It is a pleasure to acknowledge the help so cheerfully given by the staff of the 

NASA History Office and the NASA Technical Library. I would also like to 

acknowledge the cooperation of the Federal Records Center in Suitland, Maryland, where most of the retired records of NASA Headquarters are stored; the 

library of the U.S. Department of Transportation; and the Milton Eisenhower 

Library of The Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Maryland, for permission 

to examine the Hugh Dryden papers. 

I am also indebted to those persons whose close readings helped shape this 

work and improve its content and organization. At the NASA History Office, Dr. 

Monte Wright, Frank Anderson, Jr., Carrie Karegeannes, Alex Roland, and Lee 

Saegesser reviewed the manuscript at various stages of its gestation. Other persons 

who read the complete draft of the manuscript include Richard Hallion of the 

National Air and Space Museum, Dr. Homer Newell, Dr. Robert Seamans, 

Willis Shapley, and James Webb. Although I cannot list them individually, I 

would like to thank the dozens of NASA officials whose explanations clarified 

many details of the space program. Finally, I would like to thank my wife 

Stefanie, whose good humor and patience made a somewhat Sisyphean task more 

bearable. I must add what no one is likely to dispute: Any errors of fact or 

judgment in this book are my responsibility. 

Arnold Levine 

Washington, D.C. 

November 1979 

XV 

Introduction 

The aim of this book is to describe and analyze the organization of the National 

Aeronautics and Space Administration during the 1960s and, in so doing, to 

test certain assumptions about the nature of administrative history. To date, 

administrative history has been as much the victim of its friends and practitioners 

as of those who wonder if it exists as a distinct genre. The assumption behind 

much of the administrative theory that finds its way into such works-that officials 

and bureaucrats live in a world where rational behavior is conceivable and 

attainable-has been in question at least since the publication of Herbert Simon's 

Administrative Behavior in 1946. 1 In the real world, Simon argues, a fragmentary 

knowledge of consequences and the inability to choose among all possible alter.natives set severe constraints on the administrator's ability to act rationally. Rationality as a goal-the efficient matching of means to ends-can be described, but for 

the reasons given, "it is impossible for the behavior of a single isolated individual 

to reach any high degree of rationality." 2 To these objections may be added two 

more. One is the tendency of certain key decisions to have cumulative effects 

throughout the organization, whether such decisions are documented or not. The 

logic of a particular course of action may bring certain consequences, even (or 

especially) when these are not consciously intended. The other objection to the 

view that there is measurable correspondence between intentions and results is 

that superiors may not know or want to know what their subordinates are doing. 

Whether the sheer volume of feedback is self-defeating, or subordinates cannot or 

will not do what their superiors want, the problem remains: Descriptions of.. 

formal organization structures may, at best, tell only what the organization was 

intended to do.3 

Still, it would be a mistake to substitute for a "formalist" approach to 

organizations something equally one sided. Statements of intent do matter since 

they define the boundaries within which the organization must operate. The 1958 

act establishing the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) 

contains nothing about the manned lunar landing program, yet almost all the 

powers and authorities needed for the success of Apollo are found there. Thus 

XVll 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

enabling legislation, formal delegations of authority, and descriptions of p

and functions are important because they determine that the agency shall b

rather than that. Indeed, one can draw no firm line between the procedur

substantive aspects of an agency's work. Rather, one must set the agency 

environment; the historian ought to describe the agency's institutiona

roundings, its clients and allies, its budgetary strategies, and the extent to 

its functions were competitive with those of other agencies. The defect of tr

an agency in purely formal terms is precisely that this approach ignor

surroundings. 

The problem of writing about NASA becomes manageable because, giv

vast accumulation of documents, by far the greater part consists of paper gen

to meet the stringent reporting requirements of the manned spaceflight and 

science programs. What is left is documentation that serves to shape agency 

before it hardens into definite programs, to enunciate that policy once it ha

ratified, and to record problem areas that come to the attention of general ma

ment. Despite advances in communications technology, the primary materia

still written. For policy to be effective it must eventually be issued in w

instructions: Policy must be written to reduce the scope of ambiguity, and i

be in the form of instructions to indicate that it is authoritative rather 

advisory. However, one must know the written sources and their limitation

example, the tension between NASA Headquarters and the field centers ma

throughout the documentation, but it runs between the lines. It is seldom e

ated. The administrative historian must read between the lines to discern 

Administrative history, as the account of the interaction between an o

zation and its environment, is possible and can provide valuable informatio

account of NASA is singularly fitted to test this conclusion. Established by 

gress in the aftermath of Sputniks 1 and 2, NASA quickly grew by accretio

incorporation of older installations, and the creation of new capabilities i

agency employing 36 000 persons and owning facilities worth $3.65 bill

1965-1966.4 From 1958 to 1968 NASA launched several dozen unmanned 

craft that revolutionized communications and meteorological technology o

one hand and electronics on the other, created or fostered new scientific disci

like bioastronautics and space medicine, and stirred up the field of astronom

in the public mind NASA was most closely associated with the manned spac

programs-Project Mercury (1958-1963), which tested the ability of one m

function up to several hours in Earth orbit; Gemini ( 1962-1966), in which 

man crews in <ine spacecraft were assigned a variety of tasks, including rende

and docking in Earth orbit with a target vehicle and moving around outsi

spacecraft itself; and Apollo (1960-1972), in which three-man crews were s

progressively more ambitious missions, culminating in the lunar landing o

1969. Merely to sketch the civilian program is to indicate the magnitu

NASA's assignments and the scope of its successes. One must take serious

contention of James E. Webb, NASA Administrator from 1961 to 1968, th

success of NASA was a success in organizing "large-scale endeavors," that i

XVlll 
INTRODUCTION 

the same system of management that made the lunar landing possible may also 

have been its most important byproduct.5 

To understand what NASA did, one must begin by considering it as an 

institution coordinated to achieve certain goals that were neither fixed nor always 

precisely determined. Coordination had to be achieved on different levels: within 

the agency among the substantive program offices, the several field installations, 

and the central functional offices; between NASA and the Executive Office of the 

President, which determined the funding levels of each item in the NASA budget 

before congressional review; between NASA and congressional committees that 

authorized its programs, allocated its funds, and provided continuous oversight; 

between NASA and the scientific community, which was client, critic, and not-soloyal opposition; finally, between NASA and other Federal agencies, which might 

be partners (as in the joint NASA-Atomic Energy Commission Space Nuclear 

Propulsion Office), rivals (as in the case of the Defense Department's manned 

programs), or symbiotic (as in the supporting aeronautical research undertaken 

for the Federal Aviation Agency). Thus the picture of an organization pressing 

single-mindedly toward its main goal must be replaced by one that recognizes the 

complexity of the internal and external communities that affected NASA policy. 

Neither the manned lunar landing nor any other NASA program is quite as 

straightforward as it may first appear: first, because different officials tended to 

have different perceptions of the program; second, because the program itself can 

be seen in different contexts, depending on whether one takes the short-, intermediate, or long-range view; third, because it was not clear whether the lunar 

landing program (and some others) was an end in itself, designed to give the 

United States a "total capability" in space, or a diplomatic counter against the Soviet Union. 

This book, then, is a study of the development, results, and causes of NASA 

decisions. It is an attempt to relate administration to the total agency mission, 

rather than to treat administration as though it were a discrete, closed system. 

Such a study, to be adequate, should include the following elements. 

It should describe the formal authority structure for delegating 

powers and functions, fund allocation, planning, and relations with and between 

NASA centers. For the reasons given above, the formal mechanisms are important 

in themselves as well as for illuminating the way in which informal lines of 

authority developed. An account of formal structures will not tell if the agency 

succeeded or failed; it may, however, tell why it succeeded or failed. 

It should give some account of the informal structure that developed within the formal one. What were these informal relations, and how did they 

originate? To what extent did they supplement agency policy, supersede it, or 

create a new set of procedures in advance of their standardization by senior 

management? 

In this context one should distinguish informal, unwritten operating procedures from the informal relations within program and functional offices and 

between the centers. In some cases headquarters management did not-or perhaps 

XlX 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

could not-take official notice of tensions generated by NASA programs un

had become too serious to ignore. Such tensions included, for example, th

tion of whether the Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland

Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral, Florida, would have control 

Manned Space Flight network; the conflict between the Marshall Space 

Center in Huntsville, Alabama, and the Manned Spacecraft Center in H

Texas, over the "roles and missions" of Marshall after the production of 

rockets ceased; and, within headquarters, the debate over the resources al

for manned spaceflight and space science. Whether such tensions were inhe

a decentralized civilian space program or not, and whether they resulted i

agement directives or riot, they are among the most important, yet most 

topics to be discussed. 

An agency history, as distinct from a management history, should conc

on the senior officials who set NASA's goals, allocated funds, instituted re

requirements, and set up mechanisms for continuous feedback of informat

short, top management sets the rules of the game; within those rules the 

had to manage approved projects. Thus an administrative history of NAS

attempts, as does this one, to write from the headquarters point of view 

analyze the interplay between centralized control and decentralized projec

agement, and it should bring to the forefront those Government-wide polic

determined how NASA got its work done. 

Finally, history consists of events situated within a temporal framewor

can "freeze" the action at any point on a continuum, but that point is the 

of what has preceded, and from it will flow second- and third-order conseq

not all of which can be foreseen. To cite one example: While the me

managing research and development known as phased project planning w

mally instituted in October 1965, something like it had been used in projec

the time of NASA's establishment. The process by which phased project pl

was implemented represented a sharper definition, a more emphatic statem

something inherent in the logic of large-scale program management. 

manner, the procedures by which the headquarters program offices set pr

and chose among alternatives were adopted for agencywide long-range pla

In sum, the question this book seeks to answer is, what can the s

NASA as an organization teach us? This book concentrates on NASA as 

concern, as an organization that, instituted for specific purposes at a specif

strove to maintain itself, to operate within the terms of its establishment, 

compete with other agencies for the limited resources made available by the 

House and Congress. The criteria for the inclusion of a particular subject 

extent to which a problem or issue was agencywide; whether an issue reac

higher levels of management for resolution; whether a program interacte

other programs, internal or external; and the extent to which problems of t

mentioned above-say, the relations of headquarters to centers or the b

of work done intramurally and that contracted out-recurred. Put som

crudely, the principal themes of this book are (1) how a high-technology 

XX 
INT RODUCTION 

was run in a decade marked by rapid expansion of funds and manpower in the 

first half and almost as rapid contraction in the second and (2) how NASA combined centralized planning and control with decentralized project execution.

6 

With a subject such as this, a major problem is how to reconcile the narrative 

with the topical approach. The first chapter is a summary of the key administrative decisions in the early history of NASA; chapter 2 is a narrative account of 

NASA from its origins to 1969. The intent is to adumbrate the main themes of 

the book, to sketch the history of the period, and, by a gradual buildup of detail, 

to prepare the reader for the analytical treatment of the following chapters. 

Starting with chapter 3, the mode shifts from the narrative to the topical. Separate 

chapters dealing with contracting, manpower, the budgetary process, headquarters organization, and relations with the Department of Defense carry the reader 

from the early to the late 1960s. Chapter 9 covers the long-range planning of 

1964-1969, when this most mission-oriented of agencies sought a program around 

which all elements of the organization could unite. 

XXI 

Chapter 1 

Key Administrative Decisions of 

NASA's First Decade 

I n terms of its proclaimed objectives, the civilian space program in the 1960s was 

an extraordinary success. The manned lunar landing was achieved on schedule, 

the record of successful launches improved steadily between 1961 and 1970, and 

NASA worked steadily and well to develop launch vehicles capable of being 

produced serially and of accepting a variety of payloads. As far as this book is 

concerned, the problem is to explain how decisions about NASA's organization 

accounted for this success-if, indeed, such success occurred because of the organization, not in spite of it. No doubt it is possible to state the reasons for NASA's 

success in general, straightforward terms. The argument might run along these 

lines: Congress gave NASA a blank check because the lunar landing had to be 

managed on a crash basis. Furthermore, by committing itself to extremely precise, 

measurable, aU-or-nothing goals, NASA had powerful incentives not to fail. 

All this may be true as far as it goes, but it does not go far enough. Terms 

such as "crash program" or "decentralization" derive their meaning from a 

specific context. For example, the 1963 organizational.changes discussed in chapter 3 "decentralized" NASA so that lines of authority reverted to what they had 

been prior to 1961. But one cannot step in the same stream twice; the 1963 decentralization occurred in the context of the vast new lunar landing mission ordained 

for NASA by President Kennedy in May 1961. These conditions did not recur. 

Similarly, one should be cautious in applying the term "crash program" to Apollo. 

If the term is used to denote a program in which "the cost is not the major 

consideration ... several parallel approaches are taken for the solution of each 

major problem, and . .. overtime and multiple shifts are utilized to a very large 

degree," then Apollo was not a crash program, since the first two criteria, at least, 

did not apply.1 Whenever these terms appear in this book, the reader should be 

aware of their contextual implications. 

1 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

The salient features of the space program must be sought elsewhere. A

them was the often fruitful tension between applied research and basic res

In the development of a space capability, space applications, supporting 

nology, and aeronautics, NASA's program was essentially applied research

manned lunar landing was comparable to the development of a polio va

rather than to a cure for cancer. The latter entails fundamental knowledge 

the nature of the cell, whereas the former involves only a more sophisticat

of existing research techniques. On the other hand, space science was acco

prominent position in NASA's program and organization. Three NASA c

were devoted- two of them almost completely and one of them substantial

space science. 

Other features of the agency's operations may help to explain the suc

the space program. There was the ability of the agency to draw on the sci

community for advisors, principal investigators, and consultants; the abse

distinction between the budgetary process and short- and long-range plannin

refusal of NASA officials to enforce a separation between those who built 

hardware and the scientists who designed and developed the experiments 

flown; the ability of the agency to draw on the capabilities of the Departm

Defense for launch support, contract administration, program manager

astronauts; and, finally, the authority vested in the Administrator to waive 

civil service requirements in recruiting executives from the outside. But th

sions that made these features possible are not, in a sense, the most imp

administrative decisions. To use Nelson's distinction, these are decisions wit

organizational structure rather than decisions about that organizational stru

which Nelson sees as the major decisions.2 Decisions about an organization 

when "a given organizational regime is limited in the range of contingencies 

handle effectively ... . when circumstances evolve outside of this range, the 

tom is a growing restiveness (on the part of one group or another) with the r

flow of events and decisions; and . . . successful resolution requires some k

significant reorganization." It is this kind of administrative decision abo

NASA organization that is discussed here. 

Anyone who studies the morphology of large organizations is apt to be 

by the power of a few key administrative decisions to set the organization's c

By "administrative" is meant the choices between alternatives that sha

agency from within, not those imposed from without. The peculiarities o

decisions are that they represent choices among alternatives, some of which 

have been equally successful; they tend to be cumulative in effect; one su

cision requires many others, both to carry it out and to make explicit wh

only implied in the original directive; they are at once shaped by and shap

the agency's terms of reference; and they are not themselves discrete

contained decisions as much as they are bundles of administrative acts that 

ually rise to the level of agency policy.3 

Consider, for example, the NASA policy, avowed from the beginning, t

tract put research and development rather than do such work entirely in-

2 
KEY ADMINISTRATIVE DECISIONS OF NASA'S FIRST DECADE 

The decision itself was made before the mechanism needed to make it work-a 

rational source selection procedure-had been perfected. One might go as far as 

to say that NASA began with an operating philosophy whose implications took 

some seven years to work out. In this regard, the decision to contract out stands 

somewhat apart from other decisions considered here. The others were formally 

enunciated in a specific directive as internal agency policy, and each contributed 

greatly to NASA's ability to interpret its mission. In this respect, administrative 

decisions differ fundamentally from those that establish the mission. The decision 

to prescribe phased project planning as NASA policy is different in kind from the 

decision to establish a civilian space agency or President Kennedy's decision to 

"send a man to the moon and bring him back before the end of the decade." The 

latter decisions are "organic"; the former, attempts to translate them into day-today operating procedure. As with most translations, something is inevitably lost 

in the process. First, management and line officials will carry out broad goals as 

they understand them . Second, the same communications gap as that between the agency and the executive branch is repeated within the agency itself between the offices that constitute it and the senior officials who act as links between 

the organization and an environment that may be indifferent or even hostile. No 

formulation or directive can cover all contingencies; no decision will be seen in 

precisely the same way by those affected by it; no policy is so impregnable that 

alternatives are inconceivable. 

The decisions that follow were broad formulations; they had to be sold to the 

center directors, headquarters line officials, and the functional staff. In this respect, .technical, political, and management considerations could not be separated 

for long. The decision to develop the F -1 and J -2 engines for the Saturn rocket 

stages could not be made in advance of the mechanism for procuring such hardware. Similarly, neither Apollo nor Gemini would have been feasible as agency 

programs in the absence of a firm policy that established relations between the 

centers and headquarters. 

The decision to rely on private industry, rather than in-house staff, for 

development of NASA programs has probably been the key internal decision in 

the history of NASA, yet its genesis is by no means clear. The policy of contracting 

out was arrived at in gradual stages, each of which made the policy more precise, 

hence more effective. The Space Act authorized NASA "to enter into and perform 

such contracts .. . , and on such terms as it may deem appropriate ... with any 

person, firm, association, corporation, or educational institution." 4 Except for a 

proviso concerning small-business set-asides, the act (by its silence) gave NASA 

the freedom to work out its contracting procedures, the forms of which were 

borrowed from the armed services procurement regulations, adapted to the needs 

of a young, rapidly expanding agency. The key steps were as follows: 

1. Promulgation of source evaluation procedures in August 1959. 

2. Publication in 1960 of the first procedures manual; new edition issued in 

August 1964. 

3 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

3. Publication of guidelines for incentive contracting in September 196

major incentive contract (with Boeing for the Lunar Orbiter) negotia

1963. 

4. Promulgation of phased project planning guidelines in October 1965

These steps made NASA procurement philosophy more precise and fl

while placing heavy responsibilities on the centers and the line organizat

initiate feasibility studies, prepare project guidelines, assist in the evaluat

contractor proposals, and supervise and evaluate work accomplished unde

tract. Despite its undeniable success, the policy of contracting out-beg

T. Keith Glennan, the first NASA Administrator, and greatly expanded by 

E. Webb-raised serious problems that were at once technical and politic

First, there was the question of how large an in-house staff was nee

monitor prime contractors. If the staff was too small, lacked experience in m

ing large development contracts, or was inclined to favor contractors wh

worked for the agency before, NASA would be at the mercy of its contr

Should the staff be too large, there would be pressure from the centers to 

work in-house. There was always some tension between forcing the cen

learn to deal with contractors and setting aside a certain percentage of fun

small internal projects, without which NASA could not retain its most ta

scientists and engineers. As Wernher von Braun, Director of the Marshall 

Flight Center (MSFC), once remarked to a House subcommittee: 

A good engineer gets stale very fast if he doesn't keep his hands dirty .... it is for this rea

that we are spending about 10 percent of our money in-house; it enables us to really 

competently about what we are doing. This is the only way known to us to retain professi

respect on the part of our contractors.

5 

Second, NASA officials had to decide what functions might proper

delegated. The negotiated contract might be for hardware, services, or stu

ports; the line between what was and was not proper was often exceedingly 

For example, was it proper for a company to do a feasibility study, recom

that a project be authorized, and then receive a contract to produce hardwa

the project? Should a company that offered technical advice to NASA be a

benefit from that advice? What kinds of decisions could not be delegated to p

bodies of any kind? 

A third problem had to do with contracting for specific services whe

service staff was available to do the job. This was the same problem in an

form: What criteria should the Government use in procuring something, b

launch vehicle, management of a center cafeteria, or test and checkout ser

No set of criteria (the Bureau of the Budget issued several sets of guidelines) 

meet every contingency.1

' The presumption in favor of a commercial source

when no such source was available or when using it might somehow disru

agency's work, smacked too much of a short-term solution. Excessive depen

on private industry would eventually endanger NASA's ability to determi

4 
KEY ADMINISTRATIVE DECISIONS OF NASA'S FIRST DECADE 

kinds of programs it wanted, to estimate reasonable prices, and to evaluate program results. But too much work done in-house would have revived those problems it was the ostensible purpose of the contractual instrument to resolve: a lack 

of flexibility, the accumulation of a large permanent staff for whom jobs had to 

be found, and a concomitant vested interest in particular programs. No decision 

in NASA's history has been fraught with greater consequences than this one. No 

aspect of NASA organization was left untouched by it. 

Another significant decision concerns the reorganization in November 1961 , 

by which responsibility for hardware and responsibility for programs were concentrated in the same program offices. The essence of NASA program planning 

was organization by goal rather than by hardware. Prior to 1961 a separate Office 

of Launch Vehicle Programs was responsible for engine and launch vehicle 

development. If NASA was to be a single agency, rather than a congeries of semiindependent fiefdoms, hardware and programs had to be combined in the headquarters program office and the centers then reporting to them. The catalyst for 

the change was the decision to give highest priority to the manned lunar landing. 

What had been discussed for over a year within NASA now became a matter of 

urgency. The basic changes-omitting the details for now-were (1) that the 

centers were to report directly to the Associate Administrator, (2) that four new 

program offices were established in place of the four that had been abolished, and 

(3) that a new Office of Tracking and Data Acquisition was set up to provide 

agencywide support. 

The reorganization gave the Manned Space Flight (MSF) program the organizational prominence needed to carry out its goal and, in so doing, paved the way 

for the centers to manage the large development contracts on which the success of 

the program depended. From these two things-the special freedom of the Office 

of Manned Space Flight (OMSF) and the doubling and tripling of appropriations 

and manpower-resulted the most important changes of the next two years: the 

introduction of incentive contracts and the conversion of older contracts from 

cost-plus-fixed-fee; the establishment of an Office of Industry Affairs with agencywide responsibility for procurement; and the decision to build a research· center 

dedicated to electronics, the crucial discipline in the refinement of space hardware. 

The 1961 reorganization, in sum, emphasized the "commonality" of agency objectives. "The manned lunar landing was a NASA objective, not just the objective 

of the Office of Manned Space Flight. All NASA field installations were to contribute to, its accomplishment, not just the centers labelled as manned space flight 

centers. Agencywide functions ... were to be performed for the benefit of the 

entire NASA program, not just one segment of it." 7 

A third decision is that of the November 1963 reorganization, after which the 

field centers once more reported to the program offices, not to the Associate Administrator. This decision signaled the maturity of the NASA organization. The 

centers now had the capacity to conceive projects, develop specifications forcontractors, supervise contractors, and conduct sufficient in-house work to maintain 

the excellence of their staffs. The priority of the MSF program was clearly recognized and with it the necessity of shifting the locus of decision making downS 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

ward from the Associate Administrator to the heads of program offices, 

directors, and project managers. Many factors had to converge before s

system could work or be worked. First, there had to be standardized proc

for authorizing projects, tracking resources through the agency, and trans

data received into information about ongoing programs. Second, manag

needed techniques to measure performance, costs, and schedules. Third, N

needed special scientific and engineering personnel for its research and de

ment programs. It is perhaps truer to call the 1963 reorganization an end 

than a beginning, because without the capabilities listed no such dispers

authority would have succeeded. In other words, the functions of senior ma

ment, i.e., Administrator James E. Webb, Deputy Administrator Hugh L. Dr

and Associate Administrator Robert C. Seamans, Jr., would be less day-to-d

pervision and more long-range planning, handling interagency matters, and a

ing to the delicate international implications of the U.S. space program. The 

reorganization did not change NASA's organizational philosophy; it ratified 

The fourth major decision was to go to "all-up" flight testing of S

vehicles (1963-1966). The all-up philosophy had a rather long history 

rising to the level of agency policy. All-up testing means that a vehicle 

complete as practicable for each flight, so that a maximum amount of test 

mation is obtained with a minimum number of flights." 8 In other words, al

stages of the Saturn V were to be flown with the Apollo command and s

modules instead of being tested and flown separately. Unlike the decisions 

so far, it may seem more technical than administrative; again, unlike the o

it was made by George E. Mueller, Associate Administrator (OMSF), a

OMSF Management Council, rather than in the Administrator's office.9 

MSF program, by the size of its appropriations and the extent of its resource

the pacing element of NASA planning, if Apollo was the pacing item fo

program, and if the lunar landing had to be completed before the end 

decade, then any decision that would decrease the number of test flights wo

crucial. In one respect the all-up decision was like the previous decisions disc

It evolved from earlier decisions and, in turn, presupposed subsequent dec

to implement it. The all-up decision presupposed the July 1962 decision 

lunar orbit rendezvous as the mission mode for Apollo, and it required a

stricter control of quality and monitoring of contractors, the budgeting of w

within the launch vehicle and spacecraft (itself requiring major advan

electronics and miniaturization), much closer attention to improving som

tions of the Apollo program without delaying other portions, and the build

of redundancy wherever possible. All-up testing falls into the category 

ministrative decisions because it was developed by agency managers and 

directors who felt that small incremental development steps would be to

consuming and expensive, and because it did as much as any single decis

establish the allocation of resources and manpower within NASA. 

Another significant decision was to strengthen the Office of the Ad

trator(December 1965- March 1967). Here, too, the decision to create an 

6 
KEY ADMINISTRATIVE DECISIONS OF NASA'S FIRST DECADE 

of the Administrator was inextricably involved with prior top management decisions. The year 1965 had been one of intense activity, and the capacity of Webb 

and Seamans to absorb information, to see the agency as a whole, and to make 

sense of the welter of reports and issuances generated at the lower levels was 

stretched very thin. Following Dryden's death on 2 December, Seamans, while remaining general manager, became Deputy Administrator. Webb then moved to 

tighten his control over the functional management offices. In a 29 December 

memorandum for agencywide distribution, he announced the establishment of an 

Office of the Administrator as "a single, uncompartmented entity to afford maximum, direct, personal and informal contact between Dr. Seamans and myself and 

our associates." 10 In addition to detailing the functions of the secretariat, Webb's 

memorandum was the most complete expression of his philosophy of the administrative division of labor up to that time. Seamans remained in charge of day-to-day 

operations; Webb, of protecting NASA from an ever more threatening external 

environment. The functional staff serving the new office would monitor and assist 

the program offices. 

The second phase of Webb's strategy, begun in early 1967, changed drastically after the Apollo 204 fire of 27 January. The Office of the Administrator had 

made the division of functions more clear-cut and precise; by itself, this could go 

only so far to reduce bureaucratic inertia: the delays in reaching decisions, the 

shifting of decisions upward, the chaotic state of the management issuance system, 

the real possibility of an Apollo "stretch-out," and so on. Webb appointed Harold 

B. Finger, manager of the NASA-Atomic Energy Commission Nuclear Propulsion Office (and leader of a task force to study NASA organization) as Associate 

Administrator for Organization and Management. His functions would include 

supervising the functional offices, such as Industry Affairs and Administration, 

and acting as the central point of control within the agency for all project authorizations. Instead of the relatively loose control exercised since 1963, Webb, through 

Seamans and Finger, worked to bring about much tighter control from above. To 

many, the Apollo fire was understood to be the failure of North American Aviation, the prime contractor for the Apollo command and service modules, to do what 

it was supposed to have done. To Webb, it meant more: He had been misinformed 

by his staff to the point where such an accident had become first possible, then 

likely, then seemingly inevitable. Finger's mission would be to make sure that the 

program offices, particularly OMSF, got what they needed and that Webb and 

Seamans would know it. In effect, the Office of Organization and Management 

became for NASA what the Bureau of the Budget was for the executive branch. 

The decision to establish the project approval document as the single basic 

device for authorizing and directing NASA programs ( 1962-1968) marked 

Webb's final move in controlling agency resources. Phased project planning could 

break a project into four distinct but related steps, allowing management the 

option of continuing or terminating at three precise points. What was still needed 

was a document that could match program costs against agency resources, present 

and future. The budget, after all, was not just an expression of agency desires; it 

7 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

had to show, line item by line item, the relation between programs, rep

systems, and changes in midcourse. To this end, the system projected by 

would include an operating budget and the project approval document (

which would contain "the official statement of objectives, technical and 

agement requirements ... allocated resources ... and other controlled 

stones .... An absolute one-for-one ... relationship would exist at all 

between controlled line items ... in the NASA Operating Budget and the 

PAD's, whereby a change in either will require a concomitant change 

other." 11 Although PADs had been the principal mechanism for authoriz

use of appropriated funds since the early 1960s, they were now to be the 

device for authorization, with only one or two signatures required for ap

To a degree, any list of key decisions must partake of the arbitrary. A d

to do one thing is also a decision not to do something else. Indeed, some of th

important NASA decisions for the period under consideration were those 

do something: not to ask for the $400 million supplemental appropriat

quested by OMSF in 1963, a request that might well have unbalanced the 

program; not to set up a general advisory committee, as a high-level sc

panel recommended in 1966; not to change the prime contractors for the 

spacecraft in the aftermath of the January 196 7 fire. 

Several more technical decisions could be listed. But at the risk of tau

the ones listed here are the key decisions because they mattered greatly 

future of the space program. They were not imposed from without, nor we

the result of attempts to placate this or that group through a shift in organiz

window dressing. The nature of the decisions does not presuppose one spec

ganizational theory; the policy analyst may find in any or all of them elem

"disjointed incrementalism," group consensus, participative management

theory of organization as problem-solving coalition. The value of the list 

it invites the reader to consider themes, certain of which are latent in th

presented and others that are reserved for fuller treatment in subsequent ch

The themes are, first, the sequence in which the deCisions were made, for ex

the way in which program authorization procedures were developed befo

after, and subsequent to the lunar landing decision; second, the way that po

technical, managerial, and administrative considerations came to form a b

decisions; third, the distinction (if any) between gross structural changes 

organization and the many smaller changes whose net effect may be as gre

finally, the contrast between the success of NASA programs and the fr

inefficiency of the agency's administrative housekeeping. The discussio

turns to an account of NASA's founding and the problems and achievem

its first eleven years. 

8 
Chapter 2 

The Making of NASA Policy, 19 58-1969 

The organization and management of NASA cannot be understood apart from 

the circumstances that brought the agency into being. To grasp the relations 

between headquarters and the centers, one must know what brought the centers 

into being, how each center's mission related to those of the other centers, and how 

the missions tended to change over time. Similarly, the agency itself was not 

created out of whole cloth; it had an ancestry, several research installations, and 

a nucleus of skilled technicians before there was an entity called the National 

Aeronautics and Space Administration. The purpose of this chapter is to present 

a brief survey of the history of NASA and its predecessor agency up to 1969, to 

do this with a minimum of scholarly apparatus, and, incidentally, to introduce the 

officials, programs, and installations that recur throughout the book. Readers who 

are already familiar with the history of NASA may wish to proceed to chapter 3. 

THE ORIGINS OF NASA 

The two sources of the U.S. space program were the military services and the 

National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA). 1 Chartered by Congress 

in 1915, NACA was authorized to "supervise and direct the scientific study of the 

problems of flight with a view to their practical solution ... to determine the 

problems which should be experimentally attacked, and to discuss their solution 

and their application to practical questions." 2 Unlike its successor, NACA was 

strictly a research, test, and advisory organization. NACA let no major development contracts, owned few airplanes, and manufactured no flight hardware. Its 

mission, as enunciated by two generations of Committee members, chairmen, and 

executive directors, was to conduct applied research into the nature of flight to the 

point where the research could be applied to the production of aircraft. 

NACA's research history began with the establishment in 1920 of the Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory near Hampton, Virginia. In 1939 Con9 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

gress authorized another installation at Moffett Field, California, followed 

later by a flight propulsion laboratory next to the Cleveland Municipal A

In time the former was named after Joseph Ames, Main Committee Ch

from 1927 to 1939; the latter after Dr. George W. Lewis, NACA's Dire

Aeronautical Research from 1919 to 1947. In 1945-1946 NACA added tw

installations: one at Wallops Island on the coast of Virginia and the High 

Flight Research Station at Edwards Air Force Base, California.* The loc

three of the five installations on or near military bases was not accidental

an early date NACA worked closely with the services, as well as with airfra

engine manufacturers, in its research. 

Over the years, NACA compiled a long list of significant achievem

aeronautics. In 1928 it developed the famous NACA cowling, which 

increased the flight efficiency of air-cooled engines and which won NACA

Collier Trophy. NACA research on laminar flow and the resulting low-dra

contributed to the success of the P-51 Mustang in World War II. The r

facilities built by NACA, such as the pioneering variable density wind tun

the award-winning transonic wind tunnel, not only set the pace for other r

laboratories around the world, they also allowed NACA to conduct origi

unparalleled research. Although drawn into testing and cleanup work in 

War II, NACA returned to fundamental research after the war and de

important concepts in the new fields of supersonic and hypersonic flight

wings, the "area rule" of fuselage configuration, and the blunt nose cone 

sipating the heat of atmospheric reentry. By 1954 these achievements had 

NACA an enviable reputation. 

Three features of NACA practice may serve to make its success com

sible. Its mission made it complementary to, not competitive with, the servi

industry; its research was only loosely coupled to its users; and its labo

enjoyed a certain autonomy in the selection of specific research projects 

manner in which research would be conducted. The first of these features 

not be taken to mean that NACA did no work to order; most NACA wo

to order. Less than half of what the Committee did was the basic, funda

research it preferred to do. To stay alive it had to keep its customers, indus

the services, happy. The laboratory directors did have considerable flexib

concentrate on certain fundamental problems that appeared most prom

them, but always they had to do it within the context of job work for indus

the services and the broad guidelines established by headquarters. Incid

whatever the reasons for NACA's reputation, the level of salaries was no

them. The agency's budget was austere; in fiscal year (FY) 1958, its l

operating year, NACA, with just under 8000 employees, had a bu

$117 million.3 

• The Langley, Ames, and Lewis laboratories were designated "research centers" in 1958, when N

formed. Wallops Station became an independent installation in 1959 and was renamed "Wallops Fligh

in 1974. The High Speed Flight Research Station became the Flight Research Center in 1959 and th

Flight Research Center in 1976. ' 

10 
THE MAKING OF NASA POLICY, 1958-1969 

After World War II and the appointment of Hugh L. Dryden as Director 

in 194 7, N ACA began moving into new fields. Spurred on by young engineers 

who were critical of the agency's conservatism and concerned about the competing 

research facilities of the Air Force and industry, the Committee authorized work 

in such new fields as rocket propulsion, nuclear propulsion, hypersonic flight, and 

exploration of the upper atmosphere. In July 1952 the Main Committee directed 

its laboratories to begin research into flight beyond the atmosphere. This led in 

May 1954 to an agreement with the Department of Defense to develop a manned 

hypersonic rocket plane, later dubbed the X-15. Development work had been 

eschewed by NACA throughout most of its history, but, once committed, the 

agency pushed on. In February 1957 NACA established a "Round Three" Steering Committee to study the feasibility of a hypersonic booster-glider, the remote 

ancestor of what became the space shuttle in the 1970s. One year later NACA 

Chairman James Doolittle could tell Congress that "4 years ago, about 10 percent 

of our activities was associated with space; 2 years ago about 25 percent, and 

in ... 1959, we will be devoting almost half of our time to missiles, antimissiles, 

and other space objectives." 4 Thus NACA was well on its way to becoming a 

space agency even before sp4-tnik. 

While NACA was conducting research programs in the upper atmosphere, 

the services were exploring the military uses of space. The V -1 and V -2 developed 

by Wernher von Braun and his technical team at Peenemunde had demonstrated 

the potential of guided missiles; the end of World War II witnessed a flurry of 

study proposals funded by the services. The Naval Research Laboratory developed the Viking sounding rocket, which later became one of the stages of Vanguard; the Army brought the von Braun team to work first at White Sands, New 

Mexico, and later at the Redstone Arsenal in Huntsville, Alabama; the Air Force 

subsidized several projects for air-breathing (cruise) missiles, and one, under 

contract to Convair, Tor a ballistic missile, i.e., a missile that expends its fuel in 

its launch beyond the atmosphere, coasts through near-Earth space, and reenters 

the atmosphere approaching its target. In 1947 the Air Force canceled that 

contract, but Convair continued work on its own for several years, until the Cold 

War atmosphere revived interest in ballistic weapons. Specifically, by 19 53 

RAND Corporation scientists and an Air Force Strategic Weapons Evaluation 

Committee chaired by John von Neumann had concluded independently that an 

intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) was technically feasible. In early 1954 

the von Ne\:}mann committee recommended that the United States undertake an 

ICBM program on a highest-priority basis. By the end of 1955 all three services 

had ballistic missile programs: the Air Force was developing Atlas and Titan 

ICBMs and the Thor intermediate-range ballistic missile (IRBM); the Army's 

von Braun team was working on the Jupiter rocket; the Navy had initiated what 

was to become the submarine-launched Polaris IRBM. In addition, in September 

1955 the Secretary of Defense authorized the Navy to develop a rocket for 

launching a small satellite as the U.S. entry for the 19 57- 19 58 International 

Geophysical Year. 

11 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Well before sputnik, the United States had the beginnings of a sophistica

space program. The missiles that would serve as satellite launch vehicles w

being designed and built; test facilities existed at NACA laboratories and el

where; and a number of proposals had been advanced, several of them by 

RAND Corporation, for meteorological, communications, and reconnaisance s

ellites. All that was lacking was a sense of urgency and coordination. In particu

the future role of NACA was uncertain. The construction of new military facilit

with Government funds ended NACA's near monopoly in aeronautical testi

Also, by the mid-1950s NACA was losing some of its best engineers to indus

because the salary differential had increased. By 1957 NACA was facing 

different directions. It could remain what it had always been, a small agen

specializing in advanced aeronautical research, or it could move further into sp

research, with results that could only be guessed at. 

The importance of sputnik to NACA's future was at first overshadowed 

the profound blow to the self-esteem of the services, Congress, the_ White Hou

and the public. On 4 October 1957, the Soviet announcement of a satellite 

near-Earth orbit caught the U.S. military and civilian leadership somewhat o

guard. The Soviet Union had announced the intention of orbiting sputnik, bu

was the disparity between Soviet and American payloads-sputnik's 83.5 k

grams compared with Vanguard's 1.47 kilograms (Vanguard, the Navy's sci

tific satellite, was hardly larger than a grapefruit)-and the implication that 

Soviet Union had an ICBM capability that surprised and alarmed the public. 

far-reaching an event was perceived and acted on in different ways. Presid

Eisenhower advocated a thorough reorganization of the Department of Defe

(DOD), coupled with improvement in the quality of scientific advice available 

him. On 7 November he announced the appointment of james Killian, Jr., of 

Massachusetts Institute of Technology, as Special Assistant to the President 

Science and Technology, and on 27 November the transfer of the Science Advis

Committee from the Office of Defense Mobilization to the Executive Off

Reconstituted as the President's Science Advisory Committee (PSAC) and 

larged to a membership of eighteen leading scientists (with hundreds of oth

consulted for part-time advice), PSAC gave the scientific community grea

access to the White House than it had ever had before. With the Special Assist

as the chairman of PSAC and, in 1959, of the newly created Federal Council 

Science and Technology (of which the NASA Administrator was a member 

officio), Eisenhower hoped to obtain a body of politically neutral experts 

provide disinterested advice at all levels of the Government. 

The congressional reaction to sputnik was compounded of apprehensi

embarrassment, and the desire to make political capital of the failures o

Republican administration. Should the Administration policy be found seriou

wanting, the Democrats would have the opportunity to pose as champions 

preparedness and a national space program. Senate Majority Leader Lyndon 

Johnson (D-Tex.) and the Preparedness Investigating Subcommittee of 

Armed Service Committee began to probe the weaknesses of U.S. military pol

12 
THE MAKING OF NASA POLICY, 1958- 1969 

Johnson's strategy was to use the subcommittee to question the defense posture of 

the Eisenhower administration. Johnson, as one student of defense has said, was 

"clearly able and anxious to take the initiative in policymaking for national 

security affairs, including space. His choice to do so, more than any other factor, 

guaranteed that the resolution of the space issue would take place in a broad 

political arena." 5 Both the Preparedness Subcommittee and the Special Committees on Space and Astronautics, established in both Houses of Congress in February 1958, emphasized the importance of a national space program and an 

agency-preferably independent and civilian-to administer it. 

At the beginning of 19 58 several agencies were in the running for the job of 

managing the U.S. space program, among them NACA, the military services, and 

the Atomic Energy Commission. The Army and the Air Force were preparing to 

take the initiative: the Army because its Jupiter program was being developed 

unofficially as a backup to Vanguard, the Air Force because the development and 

launching of space vehicles seemed a logical extension of its mission. On the other 

hand, Defense Secretary Neil McElroy and his staff were preoccupied with 

bringing the Vanguard program to a successful conclusion and in effecting a 

division of labor to satisfy the rival services. The humiliation attendant on Sputniks 1 and 2 was compounded by the failure of the early Vanguards on the launch 

pad. On 8 November 1957 DOD (with President Eisenhower's approval) authorized the Army satellite program as a backup to Vanguard; on 15 November 

Secretary McElroy announced that he would appoint a new director for advanced 

weapons development; on 31 January 1958 the von Braun team's Jupiter placed 

Explorer 1 in orbit, the first successful launch of a U.S. spacecraft; on 7 February 

McElroy established the Advanced Research Projects Agency (ARPA) to eliminate wasteful duplication of research and development in the services. McElroy 

hoped to defuse the issue of the military role in space: first, by giving ARPA 

responsibility for evaluating novel proposals during the earliest planning stages; 

second, by locating space programs at the level of the Office of the Secretary of 

Defense (OSD); third, by setting up a research and development arm to deal with 

programs that were long range and possibly tangential to work in progress.

6 

McElroy was no more prepared than the services to leave the field to a new civilian agency. The Air Force might protest the centralization of space programs in 

OSD, while the Army command might act as if any gain in Air Force funding 

must somehow be at the Army's expense. But "confronted with a civilian challenge to the freedom to determine what programs were to be considered militarily 

significant, the services closed ranks with the OSD." 7 

The outcome was a check to DOD. During Johnson's subcommittee hearings, the Administration reviewed the available options. The decision to put the 

space program in civilian hands was made by a President whose strongest feeling 

about the space program was that it must be kept from military control, both to 

keep space activity peaceful and to avoid creating a new, large, and expensive 

program located in the Pentagon. This left open the question of where to locate 

the new agency. Should it be placed in an expanded Atomic Energy Commission, 

13 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

a central Department of Science, or a reconstituted NACA? When the Admin

tration decided on 5 March 1958 in favor of NACA, it did so not least becau

Dryden, Doolittle, and Main Committee members-in speeches, resolutions, a

staff papers-had stated that they were willing to take on the job. NACA w

already there. It had a specifically technical orientation, a highly trained resear

staff, a recent history of research on flight in the lower reaches of space, and e

cellent relations with DOD. Furthermore, NACA had outlived its mission a

was in need of a new one. Interestingly, it was the Bureau of the Budget (BOB

not Congress, that proposed NACA as the organizational home of the new agenc

the Administration's draft legislation was largely the work of analysts like W

liam Finan of the Office of Management and Organization and Willis H. Shapl

of the Military Division. They and Budget Director Maurice Stans preferr

single-headed agencies reporting directly to the President, as opposed to indepe

dent commissions. The bill's objective, according to Stans, was "to build up

existing institutions and to avoid increasing the total number of Federal agenc

involved in aeronautics and space matters." 8 

The Administration bill, introduced on 14 April, modified by Congress, a

signed on 29 July, contained two provisions particularly important to this stud

First, the act made NACA the nucleus of the new agency, but not NACA as th

constituted. Rather than NACA's proposal of a multiheaded executive branch, t

act authorized an Administrator with wide powers, including the right to appo

260 individuals exempt from civil service classification. The new agency wou

have power to contract out for hardware, support services, and universi

sponsored research. Most important, the space agency was empowered to conce

and carry out major development programs, including the development of lar

launch vehicles. 

Second, neither the Administration bill nor the Space Act settled the mat

of one national space program or two. On~e it became clear that the agency wou

be civilian controlled, DOD officials dropped overt opposition to NASA, conce

trating instead on making it respond to their needs. The Air Force found NAS

something it could live with; top officials saw the agency as merely NAC

enlarged and somewhat strengthened but still responsive to Air Force interests a

a convenient location for noncompetitive military projects. At the same time, t

Administration bill contained almost nothing about coordinating military a

civilian programs and provided no solution for the jurisdictional conflicts th

were bound to arise. It was difficult to find ·the middle ground; officials li

Herbert York, ARPA's chief scientist, argued that space was a region, not 

program, and that DOD should be free to operate in any field-including spac

that it found interesting.9 Carried to its logical conclusion, this view would ha

negated the distinction between civilian and military programs the Administrati

intended to safeguard. The Space Act represented a compromise. Being civili

the agency accorded with the views of the Administration, PSAC, and the lead

of both Houses of Congress. At the same time, the new agency would have 

depend heavily on DOD for launch vehicles, launch facilities, personnel-ma

14 
THE MAKING OF NASA POLICY, 1958-1969 

of them officers detailed from the services-and contract administration. To the 

extent that the Administration bill did not provide for NASA-DOD coordination, 

the space program would have been somewhat less than national. To remedy this, 

Congress moved in two directions. First, section 102(b) of the Space Act enjoined 

the civilian agency to make available to DOD those discoveries having military 

value or significance. Second, Congress added (sections 201 and 204) two coordinating bodies: the National Aeronautics and Space Council, a high-level policymaking.body, chaired by the President, that embraced all Federal agencies with 

a major interest in space. (NASA, DOD, the Atomic Energy Commission, the 

State Department) and a Civilian-Military Liaison Committee, which was superseded in 1960 by the Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating Board.* The 

success of these bodies would depend entirely on the willingness of agency heads 

and the President to use them; coordination assumed the existence of a community 

of interest. 

THE TRANSFER OF PROGRAMS TO NASA 

Within three weeks of the passage of the Space Act, President Eisenhower 

nominated and the Senate confirmed T. (Thomas) Keith Glennan, president of 

the Case Institute of Technology, to be NASA Administrator, with Hugh Dryden 

as Deputy Administrator. On 30 September NACA went out of existence; the 

following day, the President signed an executive order transferringto NASA the 

civilian personnel of the Naval Research Laboratory's Vanguard division; several 

lunar probes relinquished by ARPA; and the 1.5 million-pound thrust F -1 engine, 

for which the Air Force had let a study contract to North American Aviation. 

In December another executive order transferred to NASA the services of the 

Jet Propulsion Laboratory UPL) in Pasadena, California, founded in 1944 and 

operated by the California Institute of Technology (CalTech) under contract to 

the Army. In JPL, NASA acquired an institution whose future relations with it 

could not be precisely defined. Although JPL's facilities were owned by the 

Government, the laboratory was to be managed by CalTech under contract to 

NASA. Indeed, NASA created a special Western Operations Office to administer 

the JPL contract.t As a contractor-operated facility, JPL's status was equivocal: 

first, because of the contract's "mutuality clause," under which JPL and NASA 

agreed to undertake projects deemed of "mutual interest"; second, because the role 

of CalTech had yet to be determined; and third, because JPL was organized to 

• The Space Council was reorganized in 1961 under the chairmanship of the Vice President. Although it 

participated in the lunar landing decision and in the bill that became the 1962 Communications Satellite Act, it never really played the coordinating role that Congress had in mind, and it was abolished by the President's 

Reorganization Plan No. I in 1973. 

tIt was renamed the Western Support Office in 1966 and abolished in 1968, when its functions were 

transferred to the NASA Pasadena Office. 

15 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

do most of its work in-house, including the testing and production of spacec

Although JPL was a major acquisition for NASA, its ambiguous status wa

lead to serious difficulties over the next six years. 

The last major transfer of facilities and programs took place in October 19

when NASA acquired the Army's Saturn project and the Ballistic Missile Ag

cy's Development Operations Division. The Army reluctantly acquiesced, ma

to prevent the Air Force from taking over the von Braun team, whose transfe

NASA gave the agency a launch vehicle capability it had hitherto lacked. NA

took over a portion of the Redstone Arsenal, renaming it the George C. Mars

Space Flight Center in March 1960, although the transfer was not comple

until July.* It should be noted that DOD accepted these transfers because t

did not jeopardize military programs and because the Saturn booster had 

primary place in space exploration and not in our missile program." 10 Yet 

completion of these transfers raised urgent questions about priorities. First, th

were technical questions bearing on future programs. How should NASA cho

between liquid- and solid-fuel boosters for first-stage use? Were nuclear-powe

upper stages feasible? (NASA and the Atomic Energy Commission establishe

joint Space Nuclear Propulsion Office in 1960.) How far should NASA go in 

veloping new launch vehicles or in adapting Air Force ballistic missiles for sp

exploration? Second, what was the proper division of labor between military 

civilian programs? To what extent should NASA rely on DOD for launch 

ground support or develop its own facilities at the risk of duplicating what 

already available? Third, how should the agency plan in respect to manned spa

flight? In October 1958 Glennan had established a Space Task Groupt at Lang

under Robert Gilruth to work on Project Mercury, the nation's first man

program. By 1960 a headquarters group had recommended that NASA pla

lunar landing for some time after 1970, a prediction soon to be overtaken 

events. Mercury was plagued with technical problems, schedule slippages, 

doubts about its sequel- if sequel there would be. 

Yet it would be worse than misleading to look only at NASA's teeth

troubles while ignoring its accomplishments. By 1961 it had acquired new ins

lations in addition to those inherited from NACA: JPL, Marshall, and 

Goddard Space Flight Center at Beltsville, Maryland, established in 1959 wi

nucleus of scientists transferred from the Naval Research Laboratory. In addit

the Office of Space Flight Programs, directed by Abe Silverstein, started work 

many of the unmanned programs that flew five to seven years later: Ran

designed to take photographs of the lunar surface before crash-landing on 

*The center was named in honor of General George C. Marshall, chief of staff during World W

Secretary of State from 1948 to 1949, and author of the Marshall Plan. As a rule, centers named after indivi

will be referred to as Goddard, Langley, Marshall, and so on, to spare the reader an overgrowth of acron

t Not to be confused with the President's Space Task Group established in February 1969 by President N

to map out the U.S. space program over the next two decades. 

16 
THE MAKING OF NASA POLICY, 1958-1969 

Moon; Surveyor, intended to soft-land on the Moon, take photographs, and analyze soil specimens; the Orbiting Observatories, which were designed to carry a 

variety of experiment packages; Nimbus, a weather satellite intended as a more 

advanced system than the Tiros spacecraft transferred from ARPA in 1959; and 

Syncom, a communications satellite designed (like the Army's Advent) to provide 

synchronous, twenty-four-hour coverage. What NASA lacked was program direction. But the arrival of new personnel, the accession of new programs, and the 

dramatic shift in national priorities following the presidential election of John F. 

Kennedy pushed NASA far indeed from the modestly funded, science-based 

agency contemplated by President Eisenhower. 

THE LUNAR LANDING DECISION AND ITS AFTERMATH 

The decision to go to the Moon was predictable, if not inevitable. Few things 

seem inevitable until after they have occurred. 11 At the beginning of 1961 the 

future of NASA's manned program was uncertain. In December 1960 a PSAC 

committee had reported that a manned lunar landing was feasible but that it 

would cost between $26 and $38 billion. 12 President Eisenhower refused to approve any manned program beyond Mercury, save for $29.5 million for a spacecraft for Apollo, as NASA's lunar landing program was designated in the summer 

of 1960. In addition, the Space Council met so seldom and accomplished so little 

that Eisenhower proposed abolishing it; nor would the Kennedy administration 

necessarily take a more favorable view. In a report of 10 January 1961, the Ad 

Hoc Committee on Space chaired by Jerome Wiesner, an engineer at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, soon to become Kennedy's Science Advisor, had 

warned the President-elect of grave deficiencies in the national space program: 

"inadequate planning and direction ... the lack of outstanding scientists and 

engineers." 13 The report had further criticized NASA for emphasizing its manned 

spaceflight programs at the expense of the more scientifically productive unmanned probes. The report argued that Mercury exaggerated "the value of that 

aspect of space activity where we are less likely to achieve success .... We should 

stop advertising Mercury as our major objective in space activities." 14 While it 

was hastily prepared and offered the President no new options, the report did 

make explicit the beliefs of many influential scientists. The worth of the civilian 

space program, their argument ran, was proportional to the scientific information 

obtained. This was only another way of saying what NASA officials would not 

have denied-that a manned program, especially a Moon mission, could not be 

justified on purely scientific grounds. , 

Why did President Kennedy commit the nation to a lunar landing as and 

when he did? The decision was shaped by many considerations: the knowledge 

that it was possible; the crucial role of Vice President Lyndon Johnson; the humiliating news of Yuri Gagarin's Earth-orbital flight of 12 April and the failure 

of the Bay of Pigs invasion a week later; and the conviction-strengthened by 

17 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

NASA Administrator James Webb and Defense Secretary Robert McNamar

that a manned lunar landing was the logical, inevitable way for the United Sta

to demonstrate its superiority in space. Within NASA, the feasibility of lun

landing had been under study since 1959. The Space Task Group had worked o

precise guidelines, and a headquarters study committee chaired by George Lo

had-reported in February 1961 that "the manned lunar landing mission could 

accomplished during the decade ... at a cost of just under $7 billion through F

1969." 15 Moreover, NASA was able to make a better case than the Air Force th

it was the agency best equipped to manage such a program. Webb undercut t

Air Force's attempt to take over the space program by negotiating jurisdiction

agreements with McNamara and Deputy Secretary Roswell Gilpatric, both 

whom wished to bring the services under tighter control. 

Another ingredient in President Kennedy's decision was the role of V

President Johnson. As chairman of the Senate Preparedness Investigating Su

committee, he had been one of the prime movers behind the Space Act, and la

of the "Johnson Rider," by which NASA had to seek annual authorizing leg

lation before requesting appropriations. On 20 April Congress revised the Spa

Act so that the Space Council, now located in the Executive Office and chaired 

the Vice President, would "assist" as well as advise the President. Johnson th

installed his own man, Edward Welsh, as the Council's Executive Secreta

rather than have the post filled by a NASA official, as President Eisenhower h

done. Johnson was now the ex officio head of the national space effort; indeed, 

was quicker than Kennedy to seize the political implications of space exploratio

By revitalizing the Space Council and using it to review the space progra

persuading Webb to accept the appointment to head NASA, emphasizing t

importance of space for national prestige, and drumming up congressional su

port against the time when it would be needed, Johnson did more than anyo

except Kennedy to make the lunar landing decision possible. 

When Kennedy came before Congress on 25 May 1961 to request a $5

million supplemental appropriation for NASA, he outlined what were to be t

principal features of the civilian space program for the next eight years. H

proposed an advance on a broad front: a lunar landing within the decade (this w

the language suggested by NASA), scientific investigations, worldwide ope

tional satellite communications and weather prediction systems, and the conc

rent development of liquid-fuel boosters (by NASA) and solid-fuel boosters (

the Air Force). 

The steps taken by NASA officials were an adequate response to the ch

lenge Kennedy presented. As is the way of organic decisions, this one tended 

reorder all NASA's programs with reference to one central, all-important go

Ranger and Surveyor, originally conceived as open-ended and predominantly s

entific programs, were now to do the preliminary scouting of the lunar surface 

Apollo. An even more important shift pertained to the role of NASA pri

contractors. Instead of the centers doing most of the work in-house and usi

industry for support services, the roles were to be reversed, with industry handli

18 
THE MAKING OF NASA POLICY, 1958- 1969 

production and most of the design, while the centers approved or disapproved of 

changes and checked performance against schedules and cost. Alternatives were 

dismissed out of hand. It was obvious to Webb that industry and the universities 

had to be brought in, not only for the urgently practical reason that this was the . 

only way to get the job done, but because it was a way of building support-by 

geographical area, by political affiliation, by economic interest. 

Once Congress had voted the supplemental appropriation Kennedy requested, NASA started to negotiate the prime contracts of the Apollo program. By 

the end of 1961, NASA had chosen many of the firms with which it would negotiate the most important contracts: the Apollo guidance and navigation contract 

was awarded to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Instrumentation Laboratory on 9 August; the contracts for the three stages of Saturn V were negotiated 

respectively with Boeing, the Rocketdyne Division of North American Aviation, 

and Douglas in September and December; and the contract for the Apollo command and service modules was awarded to North American by Webb, Dryden, 

and Seamans on 28 November. The awards were huge. They could not but affect 

the structure both of NASA and the aerospace industry; the command service 

mod_ule contract was the largest peacetime contract awarded by the U.S. Government up to that time. 

Greatly expanded launch facilities, an engine and booster testing facility, and 

a launch vehicle assembly installation would be required. By December NASA 

had made the most important decisions: selecting a vehicle fabrication and test site 

at the Government-owned Michoud plant near New Orleans; choosing Cape 

Canaveral on the Florida coast as the launch site and the Army Corps of Engineers to build the launch facilities; and announcing the selection of Houston as 

the site for a Manned Spacecraft Center* to conduct research and development, 

train astronauts, and manage the flight missions. 11' The core of the new center 

would be the Space Task Group, which would move from Langley to Houston. 

Finally, Seamans announced a new program, Gemini, to fill the gap between 

Mercury and Apollo. It would involve a two-man crew using a more advanced 

version of the Mercury capsule, and its main purpose would be to develop the 

capability for a spacecraft to rendezvous with a target vehicle in Earth orbit. 

Concurrently, Webb faced the task of restructuring NASA and adapting it 

to the drastic changes made imperative by Kennedy's decision. To head the Office 

of Manned Space Flight (OMSF), he appointed D. Brainerd Holmes, an RCA 

engineer who had been project manager for the Ballistic Missile Early Warning 

System. In that capacity Holmes had performed the near miracle of finishing on 

time and within costs. If, in choosing Holmes, Webb had expected a conciliator 

in an organization rather well supplied with strong personalities, he was to be 

disappointed. Holmes was masterful, abrasive, and determined to get what he 

needed to carry out his assignment, even at the expense of other programs. His 

most pressing task was to build an organization that could handle both launch 

• Renamed the Johnson Space Center in 1973 to commemorate former President Lyndon J ohnson. 

19 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

vehicle development and spacecraft design; in Apollo, unlike most NASA p

grams, the launch vehicle was designed to be integrated with the spacecraft, 

the reverse. 

Between December 1961 and the end of July 1962, three decisions that w

to prove of the utmost importance to OMSF were made: to establish an OM

Management Council, chaired by Holmes and attended by the Manned Sp

Flight Center directors; to call in General Electric for testing and check

services and American Telephone and Telegraph for systems analysis work, in 

latter case establishing a separate corporation working solely for NASA; and 

select lunar orbit rendezvous as the mission mode for Apollo. At its first meet

on 21 December the Council settled on what was to become the stand

configuration of Saturn and assi.pned to Marshall the responsibility for integrat

the three stages of the booster .1 The Management Council represented an ea

stage in the quasi-autonomy of OMSF. Within broad limits, the Council had 

authority to make the fundamental decisions concerning vehicle and spacecr

configuration, reliability and testing standards, and the mission mode for Apo

The choice of lunar orbit rendezvous (LOR) in July 1962 determined 

design of the Apollo spacecraft and the Saturn launch vehicles. On strictly te

nical grounds each of the three proposed modes-direct ascent, Earth orbit r

dezvous (EOR), and LOR-was justified by internal task force studies. Dir

ascent called for a super booster, the Nova, which NASA was developing conc

rently with Saturn. EOR involved many launches into Earth orbit, assembling 

lunar vehicle there, and landing it on the Moon. But in 1961 several Lang

engineers, led by John Houbolt, argued for a third option: launching the Apo

spacecraft into lunar orbit and detaching a small craft that would land and th

return to the parent ship. The OMSF Management Council considered miss

mode from February to July 1962, and the decision was made on grounds t

were as much political as technical. In its favor, LOR would cost 10 to 15 perc

less than EOR and would require only half the payload weight; it was technica

feasible with the specified three-man crew, although this was also true of EO

it called for only one launch from Earth; and it was the only mode to includ

lunar landing vehicle that would not have to face Earth reentry problems. T

approach assumed that one member of the crew would remain to pilot the co

mand module, while the other two visited the Moon. 

The decision to use LOR was first announced by NASA on 11 July. M

than two weeks later the PSAC Space Vehicle Panel issued a report criticiz

LOR as "extremely ingenious but highly specialized ... an isolated dev

opment" and arguing that "if a two-man crew is adequate for the most diffic

part of the LOR mission ... then it cannot be persuasively argued that three m

must be landed in other modes." 18 The Panel preferred EOR because it seem

to offer a greater margin of safety. The issue was Jerome Wiesner's judgment t

NASA could not justify its choice of mode on technical grounds and James Web

. contention that NASA had provided all the justification necessary. Comment

to Holmes on the PSAC report, Webb said that "we [i.e., NASA] were in a proc

20 
THE MAKING OF NASA POLICY, 1958-1969 

where our top people were considering all of the factors, and their minds moved 

steadily in the direction of LOR, and that it took some time for the documentation 

to catch up." 19 Whether the decision was "technical" or something else is a matter 

of opinion. NASA could not have developed two vehicles as large as Saturn and 

Nova at the same time. The development of Nova would have rendered Saturn, 

as well as the existing contractor structure, useless, and called for drastic alterations at Michoud. Furthermore, a decision could not have been postponed much 

longer. With NASA officials hinting at the possibility of a landing in 1967, the 

choice of mission mode came at the last possible moment. 

Although the 11 July announcement was described as "tentative," its confirmation in November, when the Grumman Company was awarded the contract for 

designing and producing the lunar excursion module (later shortened to lunar 

module) surprised no one. In July 1962 NASA announced two more decisions that 

froze the design of Apollo. One, announced ten days after the LOR press conference, was to assemble the advanced Saturn vehicle and spacecraft inside a large 

building at the Cape, and to transport the assembled vehicle in a vertical attitude 

on a crawler-transporter, a sort of monster tractor, to the launch pad. The second, 

announced at the LOR press conference, was to produce an improved or "uprated" two-stage Saturn I, consisting of the modified first stage of the Saturn I and 

the third stage of the advanced Saturn, to test the Apollo spacecraft in Earth orbit. 

Early in 1963 the advanced Saturn was renamed Saturn V, and the uprated Saturn I became Saturn lB. Their configurations and the prime contractors for each 

stage are shown in figure 2-1. 

SECOND STAGE IS-IVBI 

THRUSTo 200 000 LBS. 

DOUGLAS 

FIRST STAGE IS-181 

THRUSTo 1 600 000 LBS. 

CHRYSLER 

APOLLO SATURN IB 

FIRST FLIGHT - FEBRUARY 1966 

FIRST MANNED FLIGHT- '968 

Figure 2- 1. - Apollo launch vehicles. 

21 

APOLLO SATURN V 

FIRST FLIGHT - 1967 

FIRST MANNED FLIGHT - 1968 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

THE INITIAL PAYOFF, 1963-1966 

The decisions of July 1962 marked the end of NASA's shakedown period. 

account of subsequent program developments would go beyond the scope o

summary narrative, nor is such an account necessary. It will suffice to ment

only a few of the most important events and to select several organizatio

problems for review. 

In manned flight, NASA went from strength to strength. After unpromis

beginnings, Mercury met all its goals with a steady increase in the scope of ea

mission, from Alan Shepard's suborbital flight of 5 May 1961 to John Glen

three-orbit flight of 20 February 1962 to Gordon Cooper's twenty-two-orbit fli

of 15-16 May 1963, which brought the series to a close. Gemini, with a simi

start (and even greater cost and design problems), had similar results. In 19

there were five Gemini launches, all successful. From its first manned flight 

March 1965 to its last in November 1966, the program achieved its purposes: 

Demonstration of ability to rendezvous and dock with' target vehicle; demonstration of value 

of manned spacecraft for scientific and technological experimentation; performance of work 

by astronauts in space; use of powered, fueled satellite to provide primary and secondary 

propulsion for docked spacecraft; lonfduration space flights without ill effect on astronauts

and precision landing of spacecraft.2 

In a way, the most remarkable thing about Gemini was that it remained a NA

program in the face of att~mpts by DOD to make it either a joint program or o

under de facto Pentagon management. The NASA-DOD agreement of Janua

1963 recognized Gemini as a NASA program, but one that would fly military 

periments and respond to DOD's needs. A few days earlier DOD had recogniz

the land acquired by NASA at Cape Canaveral in 1961-1962 as a NASA inst

lation. That facility, renamed the Kennedy Space Center in honor of the sl

President, became NASA's spaceport on the East Coast. During 1964 and 19

the Army Corps of Engineers continued to build at a furious pace, construct

launch pads 39A and B, the vehicle assembly building (166 by 220 meters) wh

the Saturn Vs would be assembled, and the 4.4-kilometer roadway along wh

a crawler would carry the assembled vehicle to the pad. 

The unmanned science and applications programs were equally success

nowhere more so than with the three lunar probes-Ranger, Surveyor, and Lun

Orbiter. After six consecutive failures, the last three Ranger flights in 1964-19

returned thousands of accurate pictures of the lunar surface, with resolution to 

centimeters. The success of the Surveyor program was even more surprising, w

with two congressional investigations, the inexorable climb in the weight of 

spacecraft, the difficulties with the second-stage Centaur vehicle that was 

launch it, and the transfer of Centaur project management from Marshall 

Lewis in October 1962. Yet Surveyor 1, launched on 30 May 1966, work

perfectly, as did four of the remaining six spacecraft. As for Lunar Orbiter, wh

had originally been a part of the Surveyor program, all five spacecraft in the ser

22 
THE MAKING OF NASA POLICY, 1958-1969 

were successful. It is interesting that the project manager for Lunar Orbiter was 

the Langley Research Center, a former NACA installation taking on development 

work. 

One of the incidental effects of Ranger and Surveyor was to bring about 

changes in the relation between JPL, which managed both programs, and NASA 

Headquarters. The failures of Rangers 5 and 6 w~re galling, the latter especially 

so; everything went perfectly until a few minutes before the programmed crash 

landing, when the TV cameras failed to turn on. Ranger 6 led to a NASA board 

of inquiry, an investigation by a House subcommittee, and a change in the contract 

with CalTech. NASA officials considered annexing JPL but preferred retaining 

it as an irdependent contractor. Yet JPL did become more like a NASA center. 

In particular, Surveyor was drastically reorganized; engineers who had worked on 

Ranger joined the Surveyor team, and most of them served full-time; the majority 

of the team was relocated in one building; and NASA instituted much more rigorous design reviews.21 Under pressure, JPL hired a general manager and began 

to assign an increasing number of employees full-time to individual projects.22 

Finally, the December 1964 contract extension made two important changes. It 

superseded the mutuality clause with a proviso that NASA could assign tasks 

unilaterally and replaced the annual lump-sum fee with award fees based on 

performance?3 

All the while, NASA management sought that elusive entity, a balanced 

program. Although manned spaceflight accounted for nearly 70 percent of NASA 

outlays, there was an understanding that a limit existed beyond which it could not 

interfere with other programs. When Holmes asked Webb late in 1962 for an 

additional $400 million for the lunar landing program, Webb refused outright. 

The money could be obtained only by going to Congress for a supplemental appropriation, which Webb believed was inexpedient, or by reprogramming funds 

from other areas, such as space science. Webb was even more opposed to this course, 

since no reprogramming could be carried out "without decimating NASA's other 

vital programs by abandonment of projects well along in hardware development 

and extensive cancellation of contracts." 24 Webb and Holmes took their case to 

President Kennedy, who backed Webb. The Administration did not request a supplemental, no funds were reprogrammed, and Holmes returned to industry in the 

summer of 1963, to be succeeded by George E. Mueller.* 

By the mid-1960s NASA officials had refined certain concepts for managing 

the space program. First, they stressed the concept of a balanced program, although, as one political scientist has observed, where you stand is where you sit. 

Second, they declined to overextend NASA beyond its existing commitments. As 

early as June 1961 , NASA, DOD, and the Federal Aviation Agency had entered 

into an agreement to conduct feasibility studies on a civilian supersonic transport. 

But NASA managers, at Dryden's suggestion, refused to commit themselves 

• Pronounced "Miller." By coincidence, the chairman of the House Science and Astronautics Committee, 

which authorized the NASA budget, from 1961 to 1972 was Congressman George P. Miller (D-Calif.). 

23 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

beyond the traditional NACA role of supporting research when Preside

Kennedy in June 1963 asked Congress to authorize a supersonic transport pr

gram. Similarly, NASA entered into agreements with various user agencies th

would transfer responsibility for managing certain applications satellites on

they became operational. NASA was and would remain a research and deve

opment agency. In its 1964 agreement with the U.S. Weather Bureau, NAS

undertook to procure a new weather satellite system, the Tiros Operation

Satellite, launch it, and check it out in orbit. For its part, the Weather Burea

would finance the system, provide overall management, and be responsible for i

operation. 

Finally, top management delegated to the program offices and field install

tions the authority to get the job done. This was the rationale behind the reo

ganization of November 1963, when the centers were placed under the progra

offices, instead of reporting directly to Associate Administrator Seamans. In add

tion, NASA officials decided not to build up capabilities where the private sect

could fill the need. The one partial exception was the decision to create a

Electronics Research Center near Boston. This proposal was broached in the fa

of 1962, introduced into the NASA budget in January 1963, authorized (after a

intensive site survey by NASA) by Congress in July 1964, and formally impl

mented when NASA accepted the offer of a site in Cambridge in August 196

With this exception, the NASA organization at the end of 1963 changed compar

tively little during the next seven years. 

FROM APOLLO 204 TO APOLLO 11 

This record of success was brutally cut short by the Apollo fire. On 27 J an

ary 1967 three astronauts-Virgil Grissom, Edward White, and Roger Chaffe

were killed when a fire broke out in the Apollo 204* command module as it s

on a launch pad at the Cape for preflight testing. Although a NASA board 

inquiry could not determine the precise cause of the fire, certain flaws in th

spacecraft were revealed, especially in the number of combustible materials in th

spacecraft at the time of the fire. Subsequent investigations by the House an

Senate space committees uncovered two aspects of the history of the Apollo spac

craft not generally known outside NASA: first, that Apollo program manag

Gen. Samuel Phillips had visited the North American Aviation plant late in 196

and had discovered evidence of schedule slippage, bad workmanship, and a la

of direction from the senior management of North American; and second, th

North American had been awarded the command service module contract despi

a report by the NASA source evaluation board rating the Martin Company high

on technical performance. For several weeks Webb and Seamans (Dryden died 

• Each Saturn lB and Saturn V vehicle had a code number, indicating its sequence. Thus Apollo 204 w

intended as the fourth launch of the Saturn IB, the first three having been in 1966. 

24 
THE MAKING OF NASA POLICY, 1958-1969 

December 1965) grappled inconclusively with the congressional committees, the 

latter demanding that NASA release the so-called "Phillips report," a collection 

of notes prepared by Phillips during his tour of inspection, while Webb and 

Seamans insisted that to do so would be a breach of faith with a NASA contractor.25 In the end, the essential facts about the circumstances surrounding the 

fire became public knowledge. Errors had been made, but the design of the 

spacecraft was fundamentally sound. At a cost of an extra $410 million, a reorganization of North American's Space Division (carried out under pressure from 

NASA), and a slip of eighteen months in the launch schedule, NASA redesigned 

the block II Apollo spacecraft, removed combustible materials, brought in Boeing 

to integrate the spacecraft with the Saturn V, and made Grumman tighten up its 

management of the lunar module. 

There were to be few failures thereafter. On 9 November 1967 Saturn V was 

launched, unmanned, for the first time. This marked the beginning of a sequence 

of launches designed to culminate in the lunar landing: Apollo 7 (October 1968), 

the first flight of the three-man crew (Saturn IB); Apollo 8 (December), the first 

flight to take astronauts out of the Earth's gravitational pull and place them in 

lunar orbit; the Apollo 9 launch in March 1969, which tested the lunar module 

in Earth orbit; and Apollo 10 in May, which accomplished every stage of the lunar 

landing except the landing itself. When Neil Armstrong and Edwin "Buzz" 

Aldrin set foot on the Moon on 20 July 1969, it was the culmination of more than 

eight years of plans and organization. The mission that President Kennedy assigned to NASA had been accomplished on time and within Webb's estimate of 

about $20 billion as the cost of the manned program.21' 

Yet the future of NASA in 1969 was nearly as uncertain as it had been in 

the fall of 1960. Where would the agency go after the first landing? Would there 

be an extended program of lunar exploration, manned missions to the near 

planets, or a manned Earth-orbital space station serviced by a low-cost, reusable 

transportation system? When Apollo 11 was launched, planning groups at headquarters were <;onsidering all three possibilities. But in 1969 and for two years 

after, very little about the agency's long-term prospects was certain. Thomas 0. 

Paine, who succeeded Webb as Administrator in October 1968, favored an ambitious long-range program with movement on all fronts: a manned mission to 

Mars, a new generation of automated spacecraft, and new programs in advanced 

research and technology. However, in 1969 the problem was less one of starting 

up new programs than of holding the agency together. At that time, NASA was 

in the middle of its third consecutive fiscal year of budget cuts and employee 

layoffs- cuts that eliminated the Voyager spacecraft for the exploration of Mars, 

the NERVA II nuclear rocket, a substantial portion of NASA's request for Apollo 

Applications (as the sequel to Apollo was called) and to the announcement at the 

end of 1969 that the Electronics Research Center would close, even as work on 

the unfinished complex continued. For NASA, the key problem of the 1970s 

would be to move from Apollo toward a program that the agency could sell to the 

Executive Office, Congress, and the American public. 

25 

Chapter 3 

Headquarters Organization, or the View From 

the Seventh Floor* 

T he internal administrative history of NASA is much more difficult to write 

about than its external affairs. Bureaus rose and fell; functions performed in 

one were parceled out among several and vice versa. Bureaus with imposing titles 

sometimes had little real power, while others with little formal authority had 

much say in making and carrying out management decisions. Furthermore, the 

larger the organization and the greater the rate of change, the more complex 

internal relations became, with more opportunity for jurisdictional conflict and a 

greater need for specialized units to prepare and enforce agencywide rules. A final 

reason for the complexity of the relations (and the difficulty in explaining them) 

is that many agency practices were worked out through informal unwritten 

understandings. Such agreements might appear because of the tendency for institutional reality to outrun its formal documentation, or perhaps because officials 

preferred that certain relations not be formalized, for fear that it might prove 

impossible to draft a management statement acceptable to everyone. 1 

These features-the complexity of jurisdictions, th<: network of informal 

relations, the shifting of functions between offices, the blurring of the lines of 

authority-highlight the problem of understanding and explaining NASA management. A logical way to begin is with an account of headquarters organization 

in general and of "top management" in particular-that is, the three or four officials at the top of the hierarchy. This approach is attractive because top management was the only group who could represent the entire agency to the outside 

world. The peculiar decentralized structure of NASA is best understood as a series 

of delegations of authority from top management to the program offices and from 

• The local ion in Federal Office Building No.6 (FOB-6) in Washinglon, D.C., to which NASA Headquarters 

moved in the summer of 1961. 

27 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

headquarters to the centers, and the major reorganizations of the 1960s, whi

affected all of NASA, began as changes at headquarters in its relations w

field installations. In this chapter headquarters administration is analyze

changed from 1961 to the resignation of NASA Administrator James E. W

October 1968. The next year, ending with the presentation of the report 

President's Space Task Group in September 1969, is discussed in chapter 

discussion begins with a summary account of the problems confronting m

ment in organizing headquarters functions. Then the four cycles of reorgan

of the 1960s are examined-why they occurred and what they effected-a

discussion concludes with an analysis of the functions top management perfo

CREATING A HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION, 

OCTOBER 1958-jANUARY 1961 

When NASA began its official existence on 1 October 1958, Admini

T . Keith Glennan and his deputy, former NACA Director Hugh L. D

faced the problem of pulling together the programs inherited from NAC

those to be transferred from DOD. Dryden had at first seemed the logical 

to head the agency. Before coming to N ACA in 194 7, he had done notabl

in aeronautical research at the National Bureau of Standards, where he rose 

position of Deputy Director. At NACA, as later at NASA, Dryden had 

almost as much respect for his ability as an administrator as he had earlier 

research on boundary-layer flow. But he was no manager in the sen

Glennan and Webb were. As one colleague remarked, "he really wasn't t

to bang away morning, noon, and night on keeping programs and project

on schedule and within funds and that kind of thing. What he was, rathe

a man with very good judgment on what objectives we ought to have in N

on what relationships were really important. ... He had a very good 

standing of how things got done or might get snarled up in the Government

the same firmness, methodical approach, and caution that were respected b

who knew him well were not likely to appeal to Congress-still less w

remarks about setting the pace of the space program that seemed to betoken 

of aggressiveness. What made Glennan acceptable was his combination of e

ence and political loyalties. He was an engineer, not a scientist; before Wor

II he had worked as a sound system engineer in the motion picture industr

during the war he had been in charge of the Navy's Underwater Sound L

tories. His Republican politics made him acceptable to the White House

his manifest success in making the Case Institute of Technology, of which 

president, a leading technical institute, and his experience as a member 

Atomic Energy Commission, the National Science Foundation, and the In

for Defense Analyses implied that he understood the problems involved in m

ing a science-based agency. 

28 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

Between them, Glennan and Dryden had the mixture of scientific and administrative experience to preside over the transition from an agency doing most 

of its work in-house to one expected to contract out for most of its research and 

development. Nevertheless, the transition proved so difficult that it was not completely effected until the end of 1963. In truth, the problems they faced in 

19 58-19 59 were manifold and interrelated: to plan for an extended period of 

growth in funding and manpower, not as though these were grafted onto a preexisting agency but as the foundation for a national space program; to maintain 

a proper balance between in-house and contractor capabilities, since in-house 

work would be necessary both to attract and retain the most talented scientists and 

keep them available to furnish management with objective technical advice, or 

at least not advice biased in favor of the corporations with which NASA might do 

business. They had to ( 1) develop and update a long-range plan that could justify 

the agency program internally and before Congress, (2) run the agency on a 

day-to-day basis, (3) refine the systems management reporting techniques used in 

the development of Polaris and Atlas and transfer them to the fabrication of 

launch vehicles and spacecraft, and ( 4) strike a balance between headquarters and 

centers-neither too rigidly structured nor too decentralized. Their work was further complicated by the way in which one problem impinged on all the others. For 

example, the perfecting of management reporting systems depended on the authorization of projects ambitious enough and complex enough to justify their use. 

What was inseparable in fact may profitably be dissociated for analysis. The 

problem of headquarters organization logically preceded the resolution of the 

other major problems. This was so for three reasons: first, because Glennan and 

Dryden had to decide which functions to reserve for themselves and which to 

delegate to the centers; second, because they needed expert staff work to assist 

them in formulating policy; and third, because agencywide functions like procurement and financial management might best be handled by central offices. 

While not a blank check, the Space Act had nonetheless given the Administrator 

considerable freedom to decide NASA's structure. Starting from scratch, Glennan 

had more reason than his successor to turn to outside consultants and committees 

to study management problems. It was not that he actually hired more consultants 

than Webb, who sometimes seemed to have signed up half the country to consult 

and advise. Rather, Glennan used them specifically to set up the entire headquarters structure. At a time when NASA was tending toward something very different 

from what its predecessor had been, the last thing he needed was an internal task 

force that would recommend the establishment of an agency modeled on NACA. 

For this reason, Glennan called in outside experts. He hired a consulting firm, 

McKinsey and Company, as early as October 1958 to assist in organizing headquarters functions and again in 1960 to study contracting systems and to provide 

staff for the Advisory Committee on Organization. Glennan's choice of outside 

consultants was also influenced by the lack of NASA personnel skilled in management analysis and by his knowledge of the potential advantages of forming ad hoc 

study committees whenever substantial changes had to be made. A committee leg29 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

itimized open discussion of the fact that a problem did exist, created an ar

bargaining, and served as a conduit for ideas and policy suggestions. The 

advantage of a committee external to the agency was that members coul

issues and suggest improvements without fear of jeopardizing their positio

the other hand, the danger existed that such committees would simply rubber 

what had been decided; that, in searching for consensus, the members wou

away the sharp edges of their differences, leaving only smooth rounded s

of agreement; and that, by being outside the organization, they had no rea

in whatever conclusions they might reach. The committees appointed by G

certainly did justify decisions already taken; that is, they rationalized Gle

intuitive ideas. This may well have been their principal contribution a

reason why Glennan used them.

1 

Early in his tenure, Glennan started to tackle a problem inherent 

administration of an organization such as NASA. To make the best use of h

as head of an agency that was about to expand greatly, Glennan had to sub

the duties of management. To Dryden fell the responsibility for dealing w

universities and the national and international scientific communities; to Gl

attending to those matters of planning and budgeting and interagency co

tion that affected the totality of NASA. In his first year as Administrator, G

put forward the notion of a general manager (somewhat along the lines 

Atomic Energy Commission) to handle agency routine, freeing himself an

den to formulate policy and conduct the external relations of the agency. H

carried his point in the teeth of considerable opposition, Glennan named R

Horner, Assistant Air Force Secretary (Research and Development), as As

Administrator in April 19 59. This office was of fundamental importance 

development of NASA policy; the organizational history of the next decade 

charted to a degree by the extent of the Associate Administrator's respon

for program planning, monitoring the centers, and, through his managem

daily operations, freeing the Administrator for long-range planning. 

The essential problem in establishing the position of Associate Admin

was that it set up a layer between the line organization and the two top o

A conflict of roles was unavoidable given that the organization antedated the 

"The top program and administrative directors ... were powerful individ

their own right. All were on the scene several months before the posi

Associate Administrator was filled . .. the former NACA laboratories had 

history of partial autonomy and resistance to central controls." 4 To prev

laboratories and program offices from breaking off and becoming semia

mous, certain changes were called for: a staff located in the Associate Ad

trator's office to enable him to pull the agency's programs together, espec

submitting the annual budget requirements; a standard procedure for auth

specific programs, updating these authorizations, and integrating them w

long-range plan; and a procedure whereby program managers could be" b

face to face with top management to discuss areas that concerned both 

None of these had been fully achieved prior to 1961 . There were, to be su

30 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

mal meetings for bringing agencywide problems to light: a semiannual management conference usually held at one of the centers, biweekly meetings chaired by 

the Associate Administrator and attended by officials from the major program 

development offices, and a Space Exploration Program Council that, attended by 

high-level officials, served as a kind of agency supercouncil. All these reviews and 

committees represented steps in the right direction, but none went very far. Their 

effectiveness was directly proportional to the frequency with which they met, the 

precision with which the agenda could be prepared, and the authority that those 

attending could exert in enforcing whatever decisions were reached. Where meetings were infrequent and where problems were so general and broad that nothing 

emerged beyond a vague sense of the meeting, little of consequence resulted. This 

was largely the case with the semiannual conferences and the Space Exploration 

Program Council. 

Program authorization was yet another problem that took several years to 

work out. Before 1961 "some projects had been approved verbally only, some had 

been in the budget but no formal approval action could be found, some were 

contracts implying some type of formal approval, some were commitments made 

in letters to outside organizations, some had appeared in a variety of places ... 

and could be presumed to have been approved." 5 There is no mystery about the 

lack of a standard project approval procedure, attributable in part to the number 

and variety of programs inherited or started up, ranging in size from the development of the F -1 engine for the Saturn rocket to small-scale Explorer spacecraft. 

No one procedure covered them all. Developing a standard authorization procedure presupposed agreement on official definitions of "program," "project," "system," "systems integration," and so on. NASA also had to recruit a staff capable 

of matching programs against budgets and extrapolating future programs from 

present resources; indeed, it was essential that NASA adopt or develop data 

processing systems to track resources from their appropriation by Congress to 

completion of the programs. 

There had to be standardized procedures for promulgating management 

directives; few procedures were more useful for the establishment of a headquarters organization than the development of a NASA Management Manual that 

would distinguish between ad hoc circulars, directives that stated policy in a 

general way, handbooks of detailed procedure, and instructions intended as standard descriptions of powers and authorities for the time being. (The extent to which 

the Manual actually made policy or lagged behind is discussed separately.) Ultimately, the success with which NASA created a uniform authorization procedure 

would depend on having a single official, a final point of contact, responsible for 

approving project plans. That official, as will be seen, was the Associate Administrator, the key figure around whom all agency programs would ultimately pivot. 

Glennan and Dryden worked quickly and effectively to build an agency 

capable of handling large, complex programs. By the summer of 1960 NASA had 

acquired many of the people and facilities that would prove indispensable to a 

greatly expanded mission one year later. In the Jet Propulsion Laboratory NASA 

31 

HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

had a research installation superbly equipped to design and track deep-space and 

lunar probes such as the Ranger and Surveyor series; in Marshall, a team with 

a long in-house tradition and competence in the development of large launch vehicles; in the Naval Research Laboratory, scientists who formed the nucleus of the 

space science program, a pool of capabilities with few rivals in other Government 

laboratories; finally, in the Space Task Group, located at Langley but an autonomous subdivision of Goddard, the core of what would become in 1962 the Manned 

Spacecraft Center in Houston. In fact, by the end of 1960 almost all of NASA's 

programs for the next decade had either begun or were under study. 

The failure of Dryden and Glennan to go still further in establishing a 

stronger headquarters organization was only partly administrative; it was political 

as well. Glennan, appointed well into Eisenhower's second term, had taken a leave 

of absence from the Case Institute of Technology. He had neither the authority 

nor the inclination to lock his successor into organizational arrangements established in NASA's formative period. Moreover, he had to contend with the uncertainties dogging the very concept of a national space program at a time when there 

were no manned spaceflight projects approved beyond Mercury, the overlapping 

spheres of NASA and the Air Force had yet to be defined, and the mechanism for 

placing and supervising large research and development (R&D) contractf> still had 

to be worked out. Until NASA's mission in space had been enunciated, there was 

only so much that Glennan could do to mold the organization at headquarters (figure 3-1). 

Nevertheless, Glennan established the Associate Administrator as the agency's general manager for day-to-day operations. He set up an Office of Plans and 

Program Evaluation to prepare and revise an official Ten-Year Plan, issued, as 

one of his last official acts, a management instruction that provided a uniform 

mode of project authorization, and established an Office of Launch Vehicle Programs that separated the fabrication of launch vehicles from their ultimate use. 

Finally, in March 1960 he appointed an Advisory Committee on Organization to 

evaluate NASA on the assumption that "the opportunity tt> make comprehensive 

changes in NASA's organization and procedures would not exist too much 

longer." 1

' 

The committee, chaired by Lawrence Kimpton, former chancellor of the 

University of Chicago, consisted of corporate and foundation executives, men of 

Glennan's type; this fact almost automatically deprived the committee of any 

influence in NASA below the highest level. That the Kimpton committee's conclusions were bland, that its report had few original ideas, should not seem too 

surprising. Perhaps the lesson of the Kimpton committee was that the problems 

it was invited to address-the proportion of work that should be done in-house, 

the functions of the Associate Administrator, the responsibilities of headquarters 

staff for monitoring the centers-went too deep to be disposed of on the basis of 

an ad hoc committee's recommendations. Significant structural changes would be 

determined by the content of NASA programs, which in turn would be determined 

from the outside, by the executive branch and by Congress.7 

33 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

TURN AND COUNTER TURN, 1961-1963 

When Glennan left Washington on the day President Kennedy was i

rated, the nature, the scope, and even the future of the NASA mission were in 

Nor did Kennedy's belated appointment on 7 February 1961 of James E

to succeed Glennan resolve these questions. While the President's advis

recommended that he name a scientist to head NASA, the President had 

someone with experience in the political rough-and-tumble of Washington

one who could handle Congress, the Bureau of the Budget, and those elem

DOD that wished NASA to be essentially a supporting agency for the Air 

As former Director of the Bureau of the Budget and as Under Secretary o

Webb had the experience and the energy-if not at first the desire-for 

He demanded, on being offered the job, the authority to run the agency as 

fit, without altering everything at once. He insisted that Dryden remain as 

Administrator and that both Dryden and Associate Administrator Ro

Seamans, Jr., who had succeeded Richard Horner in September 1960, ser

Webb as a multiple executive, making the most important decisions toget

otherwise working in those spheres for which each was best qualified

arrangement lasted until Dryden's death in December 1965. As Admini

Webb represented NASA to other agencies, to Congress, and to the White 

Dryden kept open the lines of communication to the international scientif

munity and to the National Academy of Sciences, of which he was home se

while Seamans, as general manager, prescribed internal policy, served 

chairman of the Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating Board, an

1967 was the official to whom most of the so-called "functional" offices repo

Very soon after Webb's appointment was confirmed, it became ap

within NASA that headquarters structure, especially as it pertained to the 

would have to be changed. As an outsider, Webb had no stake in any e

arrangements. Like his predecessor, he might have decided to call in an 

group to evaluate NA~A as a whole. Instead, he began by working with 

small group of insiders, none of whom had been part of NACA: the Dir

Business Administration, Albert Siepert, who had come to NASA from t

tional Institutes bf Health; Alfred Hodgson, Siepert's special assistant; an

Young, who had earlier been involved in the McKinsey studies of NASA 

becoming Deputy Director of the Office of Administration. Without any m

ment instruction or directive, the settled practice became, in Siepert's w

reserve to NASA officials rather than to outside consultants "the continuou

of our management policies." Appearing before a House committee in 1

explained that one of the conclusions of the Kimpton report had been that "

has reached a period of maturity in its young life where it should de

strengthen its management analysis staff. It ought to be able to appraise 

own in-house competence most of the operating problems as they develop.

shift, prior to the major changes that it helped to effect, remained standa

cedure during the next seven years. 

34 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

Between February and August 1961 these men carefully laid the groundwork for the October reorganization in a series of staff papers that set forth the 

available options. 10 The campaign of self-evaluation, which began with a "Summary Look" in February, went on to a 14 April staff study (on the eve of the lunar 

landing decision) and culminated in a 12 June paper on "Reappraising NASA's 

Organizational Structure to Achieve the Objectives of an Accelerated Program." 

Each paper represented an advance toward the eventual solution. Whereas the 

February paper analyzed problems and listed alternatives without recommendations, the subsequent papers began by recommending procedural changes-the 

way in which decisions were implemented- as a means of making substantive 

decisions. 

Undoubtedly the most important procedural change was the establishmentproposed in April and made in June-of a "programming" office as a staff arm 

of the Associate Administrator, which would be charged with responsibility for 

budget preparation, management reporting, and the preparation of budgetary 

guidelines for the program offices. "Its loyalty would be to the Associate Administrator rather than to any program or group of programs, or to any combination 

of field installations or program offices." 11 The new office's responsibilities would 

be agencywide; its staff, several of whom were recruited from Abe Silverstein's 

Office of Space Flight Programs, would check the tendency of any single headquarters bureau to become semiautonomous or to grow at the expense of all the 

others. The head of the new Office of Programs,* DeMarquis Wyatt, who had 

worked for many years at Lewis before coming to Washington, had most recently 

been in charge of program planning and coordination in Silverstein's office. Wyatt 

was quick to grasp the possibilities of the new office, namely, that there had to be 

some single person or office to ensure that "on-going actions, new actions, and 

future plans were fitted into an identifiable work plan." The basic premise of the 

Office of Programs was that "a simultaneous technical and fiscal evaluation must 

be made of plans and actions in order to best accomplish the objectives of [the] 

program."12 

Wyatt's office became the bureau where all NASA planning converged, and 

its four divisions-facilities coordination, which oversaw all NASA construction; 

management reporting, which supplied data for scheduling and reporting to all 

levels of management; resources programming, which prepared the data for 

NASA's budget; and project review, which would evaluate requests for new projects or changes in old ones- provided the staff services that Seamans needed as 

the agency's general manager.13 A danger was that the new office might become 

something more than a staff arm, interposing itself between the program directors 

and the Administrator. This seldom happened. For several years the Office of 

Programs served principally to expedite decisions reached at the program office 

level; following the organizational changes of 1967 the Office of Programs, under 

• The Office of Programs became the Office of Programming in 1963 and the Office of Program Plans and 

Analysis in 1967. 

35 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

a different name, surrendered its budgetary functions to prepare those stu

which (it was hoped) long-range planning was intended to be based. 

The full-scale reorganization of headquarters announced on 1 No

1961 was both. procedural and substantive (figure 3-2). That is, it prescribe

the program offices were to do as well as how they were to do it. The pr

change, under which the center directors were to report to the Associate Ad

trator, was the most difficult to carry out; it was dropped two years later, 

importance may easily be overestimated. Under the interim arrangeme

program directors at headquarters remained responsible for program bu

and funding. They set up the technical guidelines, established milestones 

porting progress on a monthly basis, and retained the authority to rep

funds to the centers. The 1961 reorganization purported to provide Seama

direct observation of the centers, to bring the center directors into the pl

process, and to guarantee control of the $2-3 billion in capital investment 

pated for center facilities. It was not aimed primarily at bringing about a m

ical smoothness of functioning. Rather, this change was made in frank reco

that the lunar landing decision had made manned spaceflight the dominan

ity within the agency; that the lunar landing mission was something to wh

the centers would have to contribute directly; and that-because all the 

had responsibilities in space science, applications, and advanced research

ought to be one official with agencywide responsibilities to whom they 

report. 

The second major change was the realignment of headquarters p

offices. The previous four were abolished,* and four new ones were created

Science under Homer Newell, Advanced Research and Technology (OART

Ira Abbott, Manned Space Flight (OMSF) under D. Brainerd Holme

Applications under Morton J. Stoller. 14 An Office of Tracking and Data A

tion (OTDA) headed by Edmund C. Buckley was established for agen

support in telemetry and automatic data processing. The responsibilit

developing and using hardware were once again united. The tendency o

changes was to separate the broad areas of the space program that re

greater autonomy. In particular, by stressing the importance of advanced re

and technology, the 1961 reorganization marked a recrudescence of the 

concept of research in fundamental aspects of aeronautical and space 

design and systematic testing "to obtain data for aeronautical and space v

of the future." 1' But OART was now required to go beyond this, and, by re

theory to design, it was to produce real prototypes of advanced subs

whether or not that hardware would ever be used. OART would stand in r

to NASA very much as NACA had stood in relation to the services. OART 

have to anticipate problems, do preliminary studies, and carry investigation

*The program offices abolished were Advanced Research Programs, Space Flight Programs, Launc

Programs, and Lire Science Programs. Abe Silverstein, previously the Director ror Space Flight P

returned to Cleveland in November to head the Lewis Center. 

36 
... --

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MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

point at which the research could be usefully applied-in this case, by 

itself. 

In sum, the 1961 reorganization was a response to problems, certain o

stemmed from the circumstances of NASA's establishment, others from the 

inence of the manned space program, while still others existed by virtue of N

status as a large organization involved in research and development. The c

discussed so far bound the headquarters offices and the centers more 

together and at least temporarily checked the tendency of both to become 

autonomous. The changes confirmed the role of the Associate Administrato

official responsible for authorizing projects and approving budgets and p

him with a staff to review and evaluate all NASA programs-those in p

and those for which approval was sought. Nevertheless, the reorganizat

certain problems in abeyance and created new ones. The role of the O

Programs reduced that of the Office of Plans and Program Evaluation, 

Ten-Year Plan, to something of a fifth wheel. The substance of planni

management came to believe, lay less in stating new objectives than in get

maximum return on the total dollars invested in programs already approve

Ten-Year Plan, as it stood, provided no real guidance. Moreover, the bu

process, for NASA as for any other Federal agency, required that funds be 

on a year-to-year basis, with later years always being treated as less imp

By 1962 relatively few new projects were being started; the funds requeste

for work in progress. The cancelation of the Ten-Year Plan early in 1963 r

from the logic of the situation: Planning had to be integrated into the bu

process, not superimposed on it. The budgetary process became, in Se

words, "the mechanism by which new projects, or major reorientation of 

projects, may be proposed."](, 

One difficulty occasioned by the reorganization was that neither the 

nor headquarters was really prepared for it. Holmes and the other prog

rectors complained that they could not "task" the centers effectively enough 

work in hand. Many of the directives required to spell out the details 

changes were a long time aborning; the crucial instructions on the respons

of the program directors and the functions of the Office of Administrati

sponsible for financial management, personnel, security, and the like) we

drafted in July 1961, issued in "informational" form in June 1962, an

mulgated authoritatively only iil June 1963. But the most serious probl

that neither center directors nor headquarters program directors were qu

tain of their functions and responsibilities. The management instruction on 

ning and Implementation of NASA Projects," issued by Glennan in J

1961, was already out of date. 17 By September 1962 the situation had deter

to the point at which one official wrote to Seamans to complain of "gross 

quacies in major management systems ... [and] confusion over the res

authorities of the Associate Administrator and Program Director ... . Th

ation ranges from a lack of systems to duplicative systems and in some in

conflicts or disregard of established systems." He was especially disturbed 

38 
Figure 3-3. - T . Keith Glennan, NASA Administrator from 

August 1958 to January 1961. 

Figure 3-4. -James E. Webb, NASA 

Administrator from February 1961 to 

October 1968. 

Figure 3- 5. - Thomas 0. Paine, NASA 

Administrator from March 1969 to 

October 1970. 

HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

Figure 3- 6. - Hugh L. Dryden, NASA Deputy Administrator from October 1958 to 

December 1965. 

39 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Figure 3-7. -(Left to right) Robert C. Seamans, Jr., Smith DeFra

· James E. Webb. 

Figure 3-8. - Wernher von Braun (left) and Raymond Bispling
Figure 3-9.- (Left to right) Homer E. Newell, James E. Webb, and 

Abe Silverstein. 

Center officials feel that the Agency may be working toward a "bureau" type of organization 

and are uncertain about how they should act and react to their different and multiple 

"bosses," and the extent to which they may be held responsible by Program Directors vis-a-vis 

top management .... Waste is inevitable ... if Program Directors can delegate or withdraw 

program authorizations to Centers without serious consideration of the related impact such 

actions may have on manpower, facility, and related general resource requirements.' 8 

At bottom, the problem was a management structure that was "inadequate and 

unrealistic." 

At the semiannual management conference held that October at Langley, 

several center directors, especially those under the Office of Space Sciences, complained that the various organizational changes had made their work much more 

difficult. While the centers under Holmes had been given much greater operating 

authority, Goddard and JPL found their positions worse than before. The internal communications problem cut across all other organizational levels: It affected 

relations among headquarters and the centers, the program and functional offices, 

and the centers themselves. As Harry J. Goett, Director of Goddard, pointed out, 

five centers were engaged in designing and fabricating spacecraft with almost no 

exchange of information between them. 19 Headquarters was too eager to involve 

itself in relations with contractors, too slow to approve projects submitted by the 

centers, and too reluctant to encourage intercenter coordination. Furthermore, the 

41 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

center directors had almost no direct contact with Seamans, although th

sible reason for having the centers report to him was precisely to fos

contact. Changes in organization inevitably affected the ways in which p

were carried out-whether the approval of contracted advanced studies, t

agement of approved projects, or the center negotiations with contractor

In summary, the 1961 changes failed for three reasons. They tended 

a "free for all" between the program offices at headquarters and the cent

headquarters program director had authority only over specific, discrete pr

"Often a center was working on projects in several program areas. Any o

center could be involved in projects under the supervision of all five Headq

program offices." 21 This tended to obliterate each center's orientation to

specific mission. Moreover, the role assigned to Seamans was extremely d

ing; it left him little time to visit the centers, confer with project managers, 

what was going on in the field. The problem was how to relieve him of 

this crushing workload and free him to take a broader view of his respons

Reducing the scope of his office might be too drastic; delegating his autho

though less disruptive, would be easier to recommend than accomplish. 22 

until 1963 there was no set pattern for top management to meet with the p

directors and functional staff to discuss operating problems as they arose

sure, there were semiannual conferences organized around some centra

staff meetings chaired by Webb, and program reviews chaired, from time 

by Seamans. But no real format had evolved by which Webb, Dryd

Seamans could grasp and evaluate program developments before they adv

far that change directed from above would be difficult to carry out. 

Yet it would be too facile to. interpret the 1961 changes as part of an 

ment that could not be made to work. The arrangement under which the 

reported to Seamans rather than to the program directors was probab

intended as a lasting solution. Seamans would later remark-although 

have been wise after the fact-that "we realized that it would not be des

maintain this structure as a lasting arrangement." 23 It had served its purp

sonably well in reminding the centers that NASA had a single mission t

all local interests must remain subordinate. The 1963 reorganization w

sense a return to the pre-1961 state of affairs, although the centers on

reported to the heads of the program offices. That NASA was once more 

tralized" signifies almost nothing, unless one adds that there were now 

functional offices for Defense Affairs, Public Affairs, and Industry Af

which NASA's Procurement and Supply Division (once part of the O

Administration) was moved; for the first time a Technology Utilization 

reporting to Webb was set up to work out means by which the technical 

ucts of space research and development-"spin-off," "fall-out," "seco

consequences," or "technology transfer"-could be disseminated most ef

to private industry and other users. In itself this was a major undertaking

ing identification of useful technology, evaluation of its potential, su

42 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

research on technology transfer (often through grants to universities and research 

institutes), and matching of data collected with potential users.24 

The 1963 changes marked NASA's arrival at organizational maturity (figure 3-10). The significant change, under which the centers once again reported 

back to the program offices, had been anticipated in October 1962 when Holmes 

was named Deputy Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight Centers. 

What was new was the role envisaged for the program directors, now the associate 

administrators for their several offices. As Webb put it several years later, the 

purpose of the reorganization was to emphasize that the director "was a guy 

running his show as an Associate Administrator, and that he ought to think of 

himself as nearly as possible doing the total job. He had to present his program 

to Congress-he wasn't just an internal manager. . .. It was the idea that for his 

area he had almost as broad responsibility as the Administrator, subject to supervision and . . . to evolving his own relationships with functional staff and line 

staff." 25 

As it turned out, this never occurred-at least not to Webb's satisfactionand it is worth considering why. The enhanced power of the program directors 

was, for Webb, only one side of the equation. The other side was the concept of 

"functional management," which, although not formulated in a comprehensive 

policy statement until 1966, had been official NASA policy since the 1961 reorganization.21' Basically, Webb tended to distinguish between program and functional 

offices, between those who prepared and carried out substantive programs and 

those who provided centralized, agencywide services in a specific professional 

discipline. The functional staff offices, most of which reported to Seamans, had 

two responsibilities: to serve as a central staff for the three top officials and "to 

emphasize the agency-wide importance of a particular area of specialization," that 

is, to check the tendency of the program offices to create their own supporting 

groups with their own parochial interests.Z7 But this never worked out. Five years 

later, Webb was complaining that the heads of the program offices had not reached 

up to use the central staff; that each of the three program associate administrators-as of 1963 George Mueller in OMSF, Homer Newell in the Office of Space 

Science and Applications (OSSA), Raymond Bisplinghoff in OART -tended to 

work in isolation from the other two; and that while the three were to have been 

"associated with the triumvirate at the top to serve as an overall group devoted to 

getting the total NASA job done," this (he immediately added) "never really 

happened." 2x The program offices tended to build up their own functional staffs 

at the same time that the central staff offices were discovering the limits within 

which they could impose uniform policy, especially at the center level. 

Three other features of the 1963 reorganization should be noted. The first 

entailed a shift in emphasis, a return to the NACA concept (in a very different 

context) of giving the field installation responsibility for technical decision making. Top management stressed, then and afterward, that project management was 

th.e responsibility of the centers. For all flight projects except Apollo, there was to 

43 
ADMINISTRATOR 

I I I 

DEPUTY ADMINISTRATOR 

ASSISTANT DEPUTY ADMINISTRATOR 

ASSISTANT ASSISTANT 

ADMINISTRATOR ADMINISTRATOR 

FOR FOR GENERAL EXECUTIVE EXECUTIVE 

LEGISlATIVE INTERNATIONAl COUNSEL OFFICfR SECRETARY 

AfFAIRS PROGIIAMS 

ASSOCIAT< 

I 

DEPUTY 

I ADMtNISTRATOR 

DEPUTY ASSOCIATE 

ASSOCIATE DEPUTY ADMINISTRATOR 

ADMINISTRATOR ASSOCIATE 

FOR ADMINISTRATOR 

INDUSTRY FOR f'M)GRAMMING 

AFFAIRS 

I I 

I J OIRECTOfl Of 

I I 

TRACKING AND 

WESTERN I NORTH DATA OPERATIONS EASTERN ACQUISITION 

OffiCE OFFIC< 

CSANTA MONICA. CALif J ICAMBRf!SGE. MASS.! 

1 

ASSOCIATt ASSOCIAT< 

ADMINISTRATOR ADMINISTRATOR FOR 

FOR SPACE SCIENCES 

MANNED 

l

AND 

SPACE fliGHT APPl.ICATIONS 

I I I I 

I GEORGE c. MAIISHAU I I MANNED I I GODDARD I I JET PIIOP\JLSION 

SPACE FLIGHT CENTER SPACECRAFT CENTER SPACE FLIGHT CENTER LABORATORY 

HUNTSVILLE. AlA. HOUSTON. TEX. GREENBELT. MD !CONTRACTOR OPERATEDI 

PASA0£NA. CALIF. 

I I 

L J l 

RA liONS CENTER OPERATIONS OFFICE . VA. 

OA BEACH. FLA. LOMPOC. CAUF. 

---· ----

Figure 3-10. - NASA organization chart, 1 Nov
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

be one lead center, regardless of how many installations actually participated. In 

the case of Apollo, the major elements were given to lead centers: for example, the 

spacecraft to Houston, the launch vehicle to Marshall, and the tracking system to 

Goddard. The tools for getting the job done had to be grouped in a related fashion; 

thus Applications, which used the same launch vehicles and centers as Space 

Sciences, merged with the latter in 1963. This meant that a particular center had 

(or was assumed to have) the capacity to manage large development contracts, the 

skills to integrate the subsystems of a project parceled out among two or three 

different centers, and the ability to draw on the resources of other centers instead 

of needlessly duplicating them. In 1963 even more than in 1961, there was an 

agency "program" instead of "programs," hence the need for the cross-servicing 

of one center by another center. (Only in 1963 was NASA able to establish a 

unified Launch Operations Center at the Eastern Test Range, where previously 

each center had its representatives-a Goddard team, a Marshall team, a JPL 

team. The Launch Operations Center, headed by Kurt Debus, was renamed the 

Kennedy Space Center in ,December 1963.) 29 

This system was not self-regulating. It depended on a mixture of formal 

delegations of authority and a network of informal relations too subtle to be put 

on paper; neither was fully understood throughout the agency. Under these 

circumstances the general manager really had to be prepared to manage. He had 

to know what was going on before problems got out of control. He had to make 

himself visible to the heads of the program offices, and he had to be able to say, 

'"Well, we need more data on this,' [or] 'this is something we can't decide here, 

it must go to the Administrator."' 30 

The second feature of the 1963 reorganization was to create a mechanism 

that enabled the general manager to do this. The NASA Management Committee, 

which met for the first time in October 1963, was chaired by Seamans and comprised nine key headquarters staff officials reporting to him. Its terms of reference 

extended to the discussion and resolution of management problems-relations 

with the centers, procurement policy, the format for project authorization, and so 

on. 3 1 

At the same time, Seamans instituted an intensive "monthly status review" 

at which he would sit down in turn with each of the program associate administrators for a searching examination of each project for which he was responsible. 

Such reviews would cover all substantive and administrative aspects: planned 

versus actual manpower allocations at the centers and at contractor plants, 

planned versus actual expenditures, key milestones in program and procurement 

schedules, and advanced studies prior to their completion. Each review was to be 

preceded by staff discussions, and the preparation of a formal agenda by the Office 

of Programming would be followed by presentations to Seamans. The drift of 

Seamans' thinking was to make short-range planning more realistic by seeing that 

the program offices provided him with the information on which key decisions had 

to be made. Consider for example the official monthly launch schedule, which was 

the Associate Administrator's responsibility to update. The changes made in 1963 

45 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

were in the direction of greater realism and precision. All launches sched

within thirty days of a Management Committee meeting were to be schedule

day, those within the ensuing year were to be specified by month, and laun

planned.for the following year were to be specified by quarter. Seamans wa

to eliminate unnecessary reporting, while insisting that the program offices a

him in making launch dates as realistic as possible.

32 

On balance, the system of status reviews worked well. The principal re

ring meetings-the monthly status reviews chaired by Seamans, the interna

views of the program offices themselves, the annual program reviews attende

Webb-did aid in bringing problems to the surface. In the annual reviews

example, specific program areas were reviewed in depth from the standpoin

their overall objectives, scientific and technical content, organizational struct

and interrelationships with other Government agencies. The meetings were 

on Saturday and lasted all day; the following Monday the presentation 

repeated for NASA staff and senior officials of other departments. But shortc

ings remained. The monthly status reviews covered only substantive progra

omitting the work of functional management, and the presentations for W

outlined each program in a fragmentary way, since the programs could onl

covered a segment at a time. Still, the 1963 reforms were a definite improvem

over their predecessors. The Management Committee, the monthly reviews, 

the annual reviews of each program gave Webb and Seamans access to infor

tion and views that had scarcely been tapped earlier. The meetings enabled 

officials to use overlapping sources of information, hear all points of view, el

nate some middlemen in channeling information upward, and define the purp

of each meeting so that those attending would know precisely why they w

there.

31 

Finally, long-range planning continued to be a vexation and a burden to 

management. By early 1963 Webb had decided not to update the Ten-Year P

in October the Office of Plans and Program Evaluation, which had played 

equivocal role-not being quite in on decision making nor entirely out of it-w

abolished, to be replaced by a Policy Planning Board reporting to Webb an

Planning Review Panel attached to Seamans' office.34 Neither had effective 

thority, presumably because top management preferred not to give them any

was one thing to bring officials together to discuss NASA programs in a gen

way; it was another, much more serious step to empower them to speak aut

itatively for NASA. Planning could be no more effective than its organizati

location and status allowed. Webb was reluctant to propose a long-range plan

solely from a conviction that NASA's long-range mission could only be spelled 

in the political arena, but also because he did not want to declare preferences 

could set one part of the agency against another. The so-called plans of 1965-1

were more in the nature of shopping lists (most of them prepared by OMS

OSSA staffs) than actual outlines of what NASA intended to do; the Po

Planning Board was abolished in 1965 because, as Webb disingenuously 

plained, nobody was using it. 

46 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

THE SITUATION AT THE END OF 1966 

The years from November 1963 to November 1965 were not marked by 

changes as sweeping as those already discussed. Top management, the heads of the 

line and functional offices, and the center directors had worked out a system they 

could live with. Two successive reorganizations had shaken up the agency, spotlighted the values top management deemed important, and reduced the inertial 

forces of custom-"this is the way things have always been done around here"-

that might form in an organization that had inherited so much from its predecessor. But it was not part of Webb's philosophy to keep NASA in a state of, as it 

were, permanent revolution. Smaller (although not small) changes would serve 

just as well. As he explained to one official, top management consciously decided 

"to make relatively small changes on a fairly frequent basis. Thus we ... have 

used our decisions on incremental improvements to teach the organization to 

expect change rather than contemplate static periods after a series of major 

changes."3 5 In his view the 1963 changes, if carried to their logical conclusion, 

would free himself and Dryden to concentrate on the major issues, particularly 

where they impinged on other agencies, Congress, and the White House. But it 

was absolutely essential that NASA officials understand their roles in what Webb 

called "the total milieu." As a matter of policy he believed in transferring headquarters officials to the centers and vice versa, assigning executives jobs outside 

their experience and beyond their area of proven competence, and using NASA 

officials to present their programs before congressional subcommittees. For all the 

shifts and turns of the NASA organization during Webb's tenure, there is a 

definite consistency of intent toward reducing the layering of authority so that 

fewer officials and fewer documents would be needed to authorize projects, and 

toward bringing as many senior officials as possible into decision making. The 

goal being posited, the means of attaining it had to be worked out on the basis of 

periodic reviews, staff meetings, and presentations to senior officials-a system at 

once more rigorous but less formal than a Ten-Year Plan. 

Two examples of "relatively small" changes at headquarters are the revision 

of the system of management instructions and the· formal establishment of the 

executive secretariat, both begun in 1964 and extending over several years, both 

closely tied to the major changes of the previous October. The so-called issuance 

system had been a longstanding grievance.36 The Management Manual instituted in 1959 could not adequately document the changes taking place in NASA. 

Often, there were no instructions (or occasionally, conflicting instructions) covering a subject area. Instructions tended to lose relevance within two or three years 

of publication but not to the point of becoming totally obsolete. Added to this, the 

coding scheme was inadequate, there was no indexing or cross-referencing, and 

definitive instructions took too long to prepare. These problems, recognized by 

1962, had become acute following the 1963 reorganization that, in delegating 

maximum authority to the program offices and the centers, called attention to the 

gap between the directives and the purposes they were intended to serve. 

47 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

One of the first steps in revising the Manual was taken early in 1963, wh

the Division of Management Analysis (Office of Administration) conducted 

study based on an earlier report prepared by the General Services Administrati

at NASA's request. These two studies, the former of which was discussed by 

Management Committee in April 1964, served as the basis for subsequent re

sions, but converting from the old Management Manual to the new directiv

system-entailing as it did the rewriting and converting of current directiv

canceling others, and updating the remainder-took another two years to co

plete.37 The job of revision included several sorts of change: eliminating what w

extraneous, issuing a new coding system to distinguish ad hoc notices from pol

directives and the management instructions that supplemented them, and 

preparation of a checklist to make cross-referencing possible. A particularly i

portant step related to these reforms was the publication of "NASA Basic Adm

istrative Processes" in February 1964.3H This manual; complete with flow char

official definitions, and enumeration of basic policies and principles, establish

the guidelines to be followed by agency officials and, as such, was the substrat

from which the issuance system was supposed to develop. 

The history of the management documentation problem is interesting, l

for its own sake than for what it reveals of the workings of the NASA managem

process. For brevity's sake, the important points may be summarized as follow

First, the changes of 1964 through 1966 followed logically from the decentraliz

tendencies of 1963. In line with management's policy of delegating and dispers

authority, the new system authorized all officials reporting to top managem

(and, of course, top management itself) to prepare and to sign directives outlin

their powers and responsibilities. It gave the functional offices the authority to 

termine the content, prepare the format, and coordinate drafts with other offic

Second, while this relieved general management of the responsibility of prepar

all the detailed instructions, the functional offices were given the onerous burd

of preparing directives that might affect nine or ten other offices, as well as 

centers. 

Finally, the new system failed in its purpose almost as much as its predec

sor. NASA did not stand still, and no set of instructions or directives could possi

serve as a contemporary record of operating procedures. At the Office of Adm

istration, Young tried in vain to satisfy Webb's demand for precise, up-to-d

descriptions of every responsible person's job.39 "Basic Administrative Process

was already out of date by the end of 1966; it could not be replaced until it h

been studied by one task group, worked over by the Office of Organization a

Management (see below), discussed by the NASA Management Council in Ja

uary 1968, and subsequently coordinated between Organization and Manag

ment and the newly revived Office of Management Development. In the e

agency officials found it impossible to summarize the processes between the cov

of a small handbook. The compromise effected was to replace the handbook o

.chapter at a time- a process that was never brought to a formal conclusion. 

48 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

The creation of an executive secretariat was as much the result of the 1963 

reorganization as the enhanced authority of the program offices was. Although 

discussed for some years prior to its establishment, the concept of a central secretariat for handling communications made little headway prior to 1963.40 It was 

not mentioned in the December 1958 McKinsey report on establishing headquarters functions, nor in the Kimpton report of October 1960. The 1961 staff papers 

prepared by Deputy Associate Administrator Jack Young did mention and elaborate on a "Central Secretariat," but no such staff office was included in the changes 

that followed. The real catalyst for change- another staff study supervised by 

Young-came toward the end of 1963, and the management instruction establishing the secretariat was only issued on 1 February 1964.41 Why it should have taken 

. so long to recognize the need for a secretariat function in NASA is unclear. Prior 

to 1964 the responsibility for handling communications between top management 

and the rest of the agency had been delegated to an "Executive Officer," usually 

an officer detailed to NASA from the Army Corps of Engineers. *4 2 

The creation of a secretariat did not immediately resolve the several administrative problems that had led to its creation. It was by no means clear whether 

the executive officer would be inside or outside the secretariat (ultimately inside); 

whether the secretariat would serve the Administrator alone, or the Deputy and 

Associate Administrators as well (with qualifications, the latter); whether its function was completed when the Secretary informed the Administrator of what he 

needed to know, or whether the secretariat had an additional responsibility to see 

that decisions made by the Administrator were carried out promptly (the office 

became responsible for both). The functions of a secretariat really depended on the 

Administrator's view of his own position vis-a-vis the rest of NASA. To a degree, 

Webb's concept of a secretariat was not radically different from the one held by 

the heads of other large Federal agencies, particularly the State Department and 

DOD. Webb needed and wanted a staff to handle all materials coming to his office, sparing him matters that did not require his personal attention, while placing 

before him everything that he had to know to meet his responsi.bilities. Webb's 

knowledge of secretariat functions was strongly influenced by his experience as 

Under Secretary of State; the ~tate Department secretariat was manned by officials who frequently reported directly to the Secretary or Deputy Secretary of 

State.41 Webb envisaged a NASA secretariat that would assist in the making 

of- more precisely, in the implementation of-agency policy, but it still remained 

to be seen how it would act in following up decisions and in working with and 

through the headquarters offices and field installations.

44 

At the end of 1965 the secretariat's charter was conspicuously enlarged as 

part of the much broader changes brought about by Dryden's death on 2 December. In failing health since 1961, Dryden had nevertheless managed to carry on 

with few interruptions for the next three years. By late 1964, however, he had 

•By selecting officers detailed to NASA, Webb hoped to keep the position "above politics." 

49 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

become incapacitated to the point that his resignation or death was anticipat

Before Dryden's death, it had been informally decided that Seamans would s

ceed him as Deputy Administrator. What this would mean did not become cl

for several months. During 1964-1965 Webb had started moving toward a m

precise definition of his and Seamans' respective spheres. With Dryden gone, We

decided to pull together into one unit functions and offices that had hitherto 

mained separate. In a memorandum of 29 December, which Seamans discus

with all top headquarters officials the next day, Webb announced the creation 

the Office of the Administrator as a "single, uncompartmented entity to aff

maximum, direct ... contact between Dr. Seamans and myself and our asso

ates."4' However, Seamans cautioned, this concept was "experimental in natu

and was designed to "assist in eliminating functional delays." 4r. But the creat

of the Office of the Administrator was intended to do more than this, and it wo

be well to summarize here the kind of organization Webb had in mind. 

First, Seamans remained general manager. That is, he retained his funct

of overseeing the agency daily. He would continue to chair the monthly sta

reviews, update the NASA flight schedule, sign project authorization documen

and so on. But his role as general manager did not exhaust his responsibiliti

Webb wanted him to move into several of Dryden's functions, for example, to 

volve himself in international scientific programs. He especially wanted Seam

to work closely with the Offices of Legislative Affairs and Public Affairs in p

paring NASA's congressional statements and in meeting with those Congressm

who had most to say in determining NASA authorizations and appropriatio

Seamans had been doing much of this before; he was now expected to carry i

the fullest extent. All staff and program offices (with certain exceptions shown 

figure 3-11) would report directly to Seamans. 

Second, Webb intended to make the secretariat visible throughout the agen

As the staff arm of the Office of the Administrator, it became responsible not o

for reviewing incoming correspondence but for establishing and maintaining 

need-to-know reporting system of items of significance to general management 

a Critical Reports and Correspondence Review System to keep general mana

ment currently informed of significant matters covered in written reports a

communications by the heads of Headquarters offices" and "a Codified Pol

Reference that will provide for recording policy directives .. . and for mak

them available to appropriate officials." 47 By what he said and did, it is clear t

Webb intended the secretariat to have a de facto role in policy making. It beca

the Secretary's responsibility to prepare the agenda for management reviews

attend major staff meetings (for example, those attended by Mueller, Seama

and Webb) and to prepare a memorandum for the record afterward, and, throu

his assistants, to obtain copies of the internal papers of all the program offi

(including OTDA, which was elevated to program office status in Decem

1965). But the secretariat could assist in policy making in more direct ways. T

Executive Secretary could, for instance, remind each of the program offices to 

ordinate an impending action with the functional offices; he could say in so ma

50 
omct Of THf AOMINISTAA TOR 

AOMINIITJU.TOI'I 

DEPUTY ADMINtsTMTOfll 

lAND ASSOCIATE AOMINISTAATORI 

ASSOCIATE OIP'UTY ADMifWtsTMTOR 

OO<Vnv. .. """ 

"""''"' ...,_..., .... ""' 

OFFICE OF OfFICE Of 

MANNED Sf'ACESCJENCE 

Sf'ACEFUGHT AND AP9UCATlONS 

ASSOCIATE ADMINISTRATOR ASSOCIATE ADMINISTRATOR A

(,Jl 

..... Figure 3-11. - NASA organization char
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

words, "Have you seen the General Counsel? Have you talked with Procu

ment?" And he could coordinate the policies of the program offices with e

other. It sometimes happened that two offices, ignorant of what the other w

doing, would prepare separate policy statements on the same matter. The differ

approaches of OSSA and OMSF on the quarantine of outbound spacecraft c

verged only at the level of the Executive Secretary, who intervened to bring 

matter to Seamans' attention and to gain a final resolution.

4K Obviously, a gr

deal depended on the program offices' willingness to cooperate, for example

provide the secretariat with copies of internal correspondence, to allow assist

executive secretaries to sit in on their staff meetings, and to tolerate another le

between themselves and general management. 

These changes were meant to reduce still further Webb's burden of rout

business. Seamans was now completely responsible for the internal managem

of NASA and for many of its external relations as well. Moreover,.even th

groups lodged in the Office of the Administrator did not always report directly 

Webb. The Executive Secretary, for example, reported to Willis H. Shapley, w

had joined NASA in September 1965 as Associate Deputy Administrator. Shap

came to NASA from the military division of the Bureau of the Budget, where 

had been involved in space policy making since NACA days. He was one of 

drafters of the Space Act and had worked closely with Seamans to resolve iss

between NASA and DOD. Arriving just before Dryden died, Shapley had f

been assigned responsibility for interagency relations. But following the Dece

ber reorganization, it was Seamans' notion to work out a three- or four-way d

sion of labor among himself, Webb, Shapley, and Earl D. Hilburn, the Dep

Associate Administrator. In the broadest terms, Webb and Seamans would be 

top two officials running NASA, and Shapley and Hilburn were to run the age

on a day-to-day basis. According to Seamans, "Mr. Webb and I would have av

able to us two senior people, and you wouldn't have a very definite rule as to w

Shapley did or what Hilburn did, but a general area defined, and then I wo

work very closely with both of them." 49 In that sense, Seamans' plan never got 

the ground. Webb would not buy it, preferring to have one person responsible 

a given area. He saw to it that Shapley was placed in immediate charge of 

secretariat, with a kind of overall responsibility for the "policy planning" fu

tion, to which the entire agency would be expected to contribute. In sum, We

was delegating his authority for daily operations in the hope that he could tota

involve himself in the key problems facing NASA. 

This account rather understates the complexity of what Webb had in mi

At one end, he would delegate authority to Seamans and Shapley (Hilburn hav

left in the summer of 1966) to run NASA on a daily basis; at the other end, 

was delineating a sphere of policy planning that would be his own bailiwick. T

division of authority could never be laid down with any finality because no 

knew precisely where "management" gave way to "policy planning" or "po

analysis." Either might be used to mean the determination of whether previou

established policies were being carried out, the documentation of specific po

52 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

decisions, or the study of how "programs are put together year by year, not only 

for the 5 year future, but 10 years and beyond." 50 Lack of definition was only one 

of Webb's problems. Another was that the key officials were not-nor did Webb 

intend them to be-just one thing or the other. In his view, Seamans was not just 

the general manager any more than Shapley was just the chief of staff or Mueller 

was just the Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight. They had to be 

able to grasp the "total milieu," to understand what the agency would be years 

later, when the compartmentalization of manned and unmanned programs had 

broken down, 'when NASA was developing a technical capability that would 

enable its officials to "know enough to know what ought to be done in the world," 

a'nd when Webb or his successor would be involved as "exponent[s] of advanced 

technology and advanced scientific thrust and the combining of the two for everything from agriculture to economics and military." 51 To the engineer or program 

manager working full-time on Apollo Applications or Voyager, Webb's demand 

that he see the total picture was a very tall order indeed. 

On balance, the changes of 1965-1966 'accomplished a great deal without 

disrupting the existing roles of the program line management. Webb had introduced the concept of a central staff to serve the Office of the Administrator, whose 

chief of staff was Willis Shapley, had created an executive secretariat to handle 

internal communications flowing up to his office and policy directives moving 

downward, and had delegated to Seamans most of the authority for running 

NASA. None of these changes had anything final about them; rather, Webb was 

attempting to develop an agency that could run itself on a daily basis, while he, 

Seamans, Shapley, and the four program directors worked to extend NASA's 

influence into economic and political spheres hitherto untouched by the space 

program. The question was, would the agency accept this interpretation of 

NASA's mission? For that matter, would Congress understand it? And finally, 

how far was it within NASA's competence to determine its mission, since it had 

to go outside for the funds to sponsor it? 

ORGANIZATIONAL CHANGES, 1967-1968 

James Webb: What I want you to realize is that you are not on a nice ship steaming 

across the ocean at a high speed with the flags flying. You are sort of on 

a raft that is partly at the mercy of the currents and ... you are going to 

keep your feet wet and have a real hard time getting all of it done, but you 

must consider the total environment within which you operate. 

Edgar Cortright: I don't think that is quite a fair analysis. 

James Webb: It isn't. I agree with you. It is exaggerated for effect. 52 

The year 1967 was probably the most eventful for NASA since 1961. Although the Apollo fire and its aftermath was the dominating factor for months, that 

year also marked the completion of Gemini, the first launching of the Saturn V, 

the cancelation of the Voyager program for the exploration of Mars, further reductions in the NASA budget, a Civil Service Commission report that was highly 

53 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

critical of NASA personnel management, and a General Accounting Office i

vestigation of NASA support service contracts. Even without the Apollo fire a

the ensuing publicity, NASA officials would have had reason to worry about t

future. Questions asked at congressional hearings had a disturbing way of recu

ring. What was NASA doing about post-Apollo planning? Why did NASA spe

comparatively little on aeronautics and applications on the one hand and so mu

on manned spaceflight on the other? How could NASA guarantee that it cou

handle its contractors instead of becoming their captive? By the end of 1966-o

month before the fire-Webb and Seamans were sufficiently worried about t

NASA management structure to ask Harold B. Finger to head a task force to stu

the full spectrum of functional management with a view to restructuring it. H

was invited to recommend how changes might best be implemented, how th

would affect the program offices and the centers reporting to them, and wheth

they should be phased over time. 3 5 By February, Finger was preparing the chart

for an "Office of Management," and on 15 March Webb named him the Associa

Administrator for Organization and Management-ushering in the last maj

reorganization of the 1960s. 

Webb chose Finger because he had succeeded as a research and developme

manager; he was the very type of line operator Webb wanted to bring from t

field to headquarters to understand the agency as a prelude to running it. 

director of the NASA-Atomic Energy Commission Nuclear Propulsion Offi

since its establishment in 1960, Finger had done remarkably well in handling n

only the usual range of project management problems but the added burden 

working with another agency, with the Joint Committee on Atomic Energy, 

well as with Senator Clinton Anderson (D-New Mex.), a member of the Joi

Committee and chairman of the Aeronautical and Space Sciences Committe

which authorized the NASA budget. Finger had the experience and the ability 

win the. respect of those program offices with which he would have to work 

restructure the agency in the aftermath of the Apollo fire. 

The changes of 15 March can only be summarized here. As figure 3-

indicates, the following functional offices would now report directly to Finger: t

Office of Administration headed by William E. Lilly; the Office of Industry A

fairs under Bernhardt L. Dorman; and the Offices of Technology Utilization a

University Affairs headed, respectively, by Richard Lesher and Francis B. Smi

The other major change, by which Wyatt (who reported to Seamans) becam

Assistant Administrator for Program Plans and Analysis, was perhaps just 

significant; in the process, the budgeting and programming functions previou

under him were transferred to the Office of Administration (which reported 

Finger) as part of an agencywide system "for resources management, includi

programming, budgeting, personnel management, and financial reporting.

Within the year several more offices were brought within Finger's control: t

Office for Special Contracts Negotiation and Review, established in May 

monitor certain important contracts, particularly the North American Aviati

contracts for the S-11 stage of the Saturn launch vehicle and for the Apo

54 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

command and service modules; the Audit Division; the Inspections Division; and 

the Headquarters Administration Office. By the spring of 1968, the role of 

management and supervision had passed from Seamans, who left NASA at the 

beginning of January, to Finger (figure 3-12). 

In certain crucial respects, however, Finger's assignment differed from Seamans'. Finger was brought in because self-policing had not worked and because, 

in Webb's view, there had been too much emphasis on programs and not enough 

on administration. In the past, he argued, nobody minded how the job was done 

so long as it got done. The Apollo fire and the attacks by Congressmen hitherto 

favorable to NASA changed all that. The agency had been caught unprepared. 

Webb wanted the job done, but done properly and through the approved chains 

of command. The management instruction that established Finger's office stated 

that "all officials with leadership and executive responsibility are expected to 

accomplish agency programs .. . within the prescribed systems and procedures." 

Furthermore, it would be Finger's responsibility to develop criteria "for selection 

upward of R&D personnel who also demonstrate administrative competence . .. 

and the transfer to non-administrative specialties of those who cannot grow in 

both program and administrative areas." 55 

In private Webb was even blunter. Finger's office would be to the rest of 

NASA what the Bureau of the Budget was to the Federal structure. 

We gave this Office of Organization and Management police authorities over the system. We 

say, "You've got to prescribe the system, you've got to monitor the system, you've got to audit 

performance under it, and these fellows can't get the money to go forward without you." 

... I am giving them real teeth. I am saying to Harry [Finger], "If these fellows don't satisfy 

you with respect to the components to the system, cut off the water. Don't give them any 

money." He's got the authority to allocate the money, he's got authority to issue in his own 

right a modification of a project approval document and say, "Boys, you used to think you're 

going to do it this way, and even when you don't like what I'm proposing, here it is-signed. 

Go do it this way." 56 

Along with the Office of Program Plans and Analysis and the secretariat, the 

Office of Organization and Management would provide Webb with multiple 

layers of feedback; under Finger's leadership it was expected to penetrate almost 

every facet of administration. Now the heads of the program offices had to work 

through Finger in preparing and seeking approval for their project approval 

documents (PADs); that is, Finger was expected to certify to the Administrator 

that a draft PAD was sound-for example, that it not only had an updated launch 

schedule attached but also a reference to the research and ongoing projects that 

should feed the project. But Finger and his assistants were expected to do more 

than this. During 1967 and 1968 they planned and carried out several important 

studies of NASA management processes: an April 1967 report on the "functional 

review process," that is, the self-evaluations and internal reviews of the functional 

offices themselves; a task force review of those "action and decision processes" 

leading to mission assignments and approved PADs; and the preparation of 

detailed guidelines for phased project planning. The power to review, inspect, 

55 
U"l 

oOFFW:E Of 

SPACE --D FLIGHT 

OfflCEOf' 

OfiiGANIZAOON 

AND MANAGIEMIENT 

ASSOCIATE ADMINISTRATOf! 

ASSOCIATE ADMINISTRATOR 

OfflCEOf' 

SPACE SCIENCE 

AND APrUCATtONS 

ASSOCIATE 

I I 

OFACE OF THE AOMINISTRATOfl 

ADMINeSTRATOR 

DEPUTY AOMINIIl'RATOR 

lAND ASSOCIATt ADMINISTRATOR! 

ASSOCIATf DEPUTY ADMINISTRATOR 

OfflCEOf 

TRACKeNGAND 

DATA ACOUtsiTION 

ASSOCIATE ADMINISTRATOA 

Figure 3-12. - NASA organization chart, 15 M
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

establish management systems, deal with the General Accounting Office, and allocate resources for research and development made Finger the most powerful staff 

official at headquarters. Reporting directly to Webb, a member of the NASA 

Management Council (see below), and the conduit through which all PADs had 

to pass before arrivingon Webb's desk, Finger was both line and staff. 

The creation of the Office of Organization and Management was only part 

of a larger strategy, a wider frame of reference. It assumes importance only in 

relation to the other functions and roles that comprised "NASA management." . 

Where the three top officials of 1961-1965 had been able to substitute freely for 

each other, the key officials at headquarters after 1967 were charged with broad 

functional responsibilities delegated by the Administrator. Finger was, so to 

speak, both inspector-general and administrative housekeeper. Shapley, whose 

office was "subject to the overall administrative system established ... by 

Mr. Finger," was once more in charge of the offices clustered around external 

affairs, especially relations with Congress and DOD.57 Newell, who became 

Associate Administrator in September 196 7, was charged with organizing and 

coordinating NASA's long-range planning.58 At the same time, the heads of the 

program offices were expected to become more like group vice presidents; the more 

they had to deal with one or two officials like Finger and Shapley, the more they 

were to shoulder responsibilities for getting their work done. And that work was 

principally coordination: coordinating their long-range planning with Newell, 

their project planning with Finger, their congressional presentations with Shapley, and their review of management processes with each other, "as if each were 

the Administrator having to make decisions concerning and affecting all areas of 

the Agency's program and operations." 59 

The nature of the administrative changes in NASA from the beginning of 

196 7 to Webb's resignation on 7 October 1968 may be summarized as follows. 

First, Webb had a penchant for pouring new wine into old bottles-he liked to 

retain the name while changing the format. Thus the Office of Management 

Development, established in 1964 to enable one of his consultants to do some 

troubleshooting, was revived in February 1968 for the totally different purpose of 

reviewing all NASA management documentation.60 Similarly, the Office of Programming became the Office of Program Plans and Analysis and shifted from the 

preparation and validation of the NASA budget to long-range studies (see figure 

3- 13 for the NASA organization as of 1968). Such changes tended to emphasize 

continuity within the NASA administrative system. Indeed, most of the changes 

at headquarters after 1965 represented a shift in the functions of existing units 

rather than the addition of new ones. 

Second, the changes of 196 7- 1968 were supposed to lead to group participation in decision making. One of the ways of effecting this was to have the top 

officials at headquarters meet together periodically for discussion and task assignment. The concept was nothing new: Seamans' monthly status reviews and 

Webb's attendance at an annual review of each program have already been 

mentioned. There were also various in-house reviews by the program offices (and 

57 
U"1 

00 

ADMINISTRATOR '""" 1---.---

Figure 3-13. - NASA organization chart, 1 M
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

often attended by DOD representatives) and, from 1964, annual reviews of 

advanced mission studies in which each program office discussed its study plans 

for the upcoming fiscal year. But in line with the administrative fragmentation of 

1967-1968, new panels, committees, and councils were set up to focus on NASAwide problems. Webb established a Management Advisory Panel composed of 

NASA officials and part-time consultants to serve as a link with the public 

administration community.61 As Associate Administrator, Newell chaired the 

NASA Management Council, which, established in January 1968 and attended 

by representatives of all the program and functional offices, was supposed to 

evolve into a top management team sharing responsibility, that is, to assume the 

functions of a general manager like Seamans. 

But the most interesting changes were those involving the program reviews. 

Each of the reviews suffered from serious flaws. The Administrator's reviews 

presented each program a segment at a time, and the monthly status reviews 

mainly covered substantive programs, although Seamans did attempt to include 

functional managers within the system. Neither considered programs as entities. 

Worse, none of the meetings made it possible to take a hard look at the total NASA 

program; none distinguished between program office reviews, which would naturally concentrate on the technical aspects of each project, and top-level reviews, 

which would examine a broader range of management problems. Such shortcomings in the review system had been aired at several meetings, notably one 

chaired by Seamans in November 1967. On 11 March 1968 Newell announced 

that the "'project status reviews" would become "general management reviews" 

to be attended by all key headquarters officials. The important change was that, 

instead of dealing with one program at a time, the reviews would "provide a 

regular forum for the presentation of issues, problems, and policy questions" 

involving more than one element of "the General Management team." This was 

not to be an arena for decision making as such. Rather, policy would be discussed 

"in such a manner that when formal approval channels are used on that particular 

item, there is a clear understanding by all organizations involved of the nature and 

substance of that particular issue." 6 2 The emphasis had shifted from the predictable to the unexpected, from what concerned one office to what affected all. The 

NASA Management Council would stress the responsibility that officials had both 

to make policy and to justify what they had done. 

Third, the changes only intensified the fragmentation of authority at headquarters. No one belqw the Administrator's level could even pretend to see the 

agency as a whole. In particular, the responsibilities for planning and general 

management were now parceled out to separate officials. The three-man team, 

each member of which was prepared to substitute for the others, had been succeeded by interlocking councils and panels and by units like Organization and 

Management that were not so much "offices" as conglomerates of smaller units. 

Take, for example, the way in which policy planning was handled from 1967 on. 

Earlier, "policy planning" and "policy analysis" were shown to be thoroughly 

ambiguous terms. If they were understood to include long-range planning, then 

59 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

no office and no official could really claim full responsibility for that activity. 

was as true of the Planning Coordination Steering Groups over which N

presided as it was of the analytical staffs within the program offices, the Off

Policy reporting to Newell, or Wyatt's Office of Program Plans and Ana

which pulled together the so-called program memoranda and special anal

studies required by the Bureau of the Budget as part of the annual b

submission. Long-range planning admittedly represents a rather extreme 

and the difficulties in preparing a long-range plan were not only the res

fragmentation. Both the separation of planning from operations and the in

prehension of NASA officials as to the kind of plan to be drafted stemmed 

the same source: The key officials, each preoccupied in his own sphere, coul

be the general managers that Webb demanded they become. 

Fourth, functional management tended to run counter to broader intere

two ways, one relating to the contact between the functional offices and the ce

the other, to the use of the central functional staff by the program offices. I

former case, functional offices like Procurement or Administration tended to 

directly through their counterparts at the centers without first consulting wit

program offices. As to the latter case, there is evidence showing that the pro

offices did not use the functional offices to anything like the extent that Web

anticipated. At a meeting of the Management Advisory Panel in the spri

1968, he complained that the program directors "didn't reach upward to us

general staff and functional staff in the way that those of us at the top rea

down to use them .. . each one began to have around him his own peopl

[and] tended to be autonomous, run things his own way, and you didn't find 

reticent to come uR when he had a problem with a Senator or Congressman 

help at the top." 6 

Finally, the new organizational philosophy failed to "take," as new me

problems appeared. Seamans left the agency at the beginning of 1968; W

resigned that October, to be succeeded by Thomas 0. Paine who had 

appointed Deputy Administrator a few months earlier; and Finger became A

tant Secretary of the Department of Housing and Urban Development in 

1969. A number of new faces appeared at the end of 1969: George Muelle

Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight since 1963, returned to p

industry, to be succeeded by Dale D. Myers, general manager of North Ame

Rockwell's space shuttle program; George M . Low, the Apollo spacecraft 

ager since April 1967, became NASA's Deputy Administrator. 

By 1970- 1971 the organization painstakingly created by NASA ge

management during the 1960s was changing into something else. The va

offices- Industry Affairs, University Affairs, Administration-no longer rep

to Organization and Management, which would be dissolved in 197 5. Simi

the various "policy" offices and panels kept going with ad hoc assignment

played no central role in agencywide planning. As a third example, phased p

planning, by which each project was broken into discrete sequential steps

drastically modified in 1972 to permit the program offices to determine proc

60 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

on a case-by-case basis. In sum, the concept of group management, which was the 

heart of Webb's philosophy, was never widely shared by the program offices, the 

functional offices, or the centers. 

CONCLUSION: WHAT DID TOP MANAGEMENT Do? 

This account of headquarters organization may seem to have answered every 

question but one: What did top management do? To answer this without having 

first reviewed the organizational cycles within headquarters did not seem very 

useful. But having reviewed the organizational changes, what seemed simple and 

definable is now hedged with qualifications, and the clear patterns of the organization chart must be replaced by complex interlocking networks of formal and 

informal relationships. Even to assert that the Administrator was responsible, for 

example, for representing NASA to the rest of the Federal community ignores the 

fact that the program associate administrators were as much NASA spokesmen in 

their areas as the Administrator was for the agency as a whole. One must also be 

aware of the extent to which any top official could act for the others; that Seamans, 

first as Associate Administrator and then as Deputy Administrator, assisted in 

making the policies that he carried out; or that Webb insisted on bringing in 

Dryden and Seamans on the most important management decisions, such as the 

review of all source evaluation board recommendations involving contracts of $5 

million or more. Further, the way in which a function changes or evolves is as 

important as its official definition at the outset. Much depended on the ways in 

which officials came to understand their assignments: whether they chose to 

concentrate or delegate their powers and to increase or narrow their span of 

control; or whether a function empowered the official to initiate action himself or 

to review actions taken on some other level. 

The role of top management was complicated immensely by the tension 

between headquarters and the field centers that was built into NASA almost from 

the start. Each side had its characteristic viewpoint. Headquarttrs, itself almost 

a kind of riv.al installation, had certain key functions that were well understood: 

to prepare and defend the agency budget; to allocate funds for "research and 

development," "construction of facilities," and "administrative operations"; and 

to act as a central point of control. Beyond this, there were problems that senior 

management could not resolve in the short term. One was whether the centers 

should report to the agency's general manager, the Associate Administrator, or to 

the heads of the program offices. The former would appear to be the logical solution when the centers were involved in a variety of projects; the latter, when each 

center had carefully defined tasks distinct from those of other centers. Another 

problem was how centers reporting to one headquarters office could work with 

those reporting to another. A third was the problem of project assignment: 

whether to give the entire management to one center; to split it between a number 

of centers and, if so, how to select one as "lead"; or whether to put the entire 

61 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

project management team in headquarters. A fourth problem was how to co

the older research-oriented centers into managers of large development cont

All these problems were compounded by the necessity, for top manageme

taking an agencywide perspective and considering NASA in relation to vari

that, in a technological sense, were extraneous to the successful pursuit o

agency mission. If a program was canceled or shifted from one center to ano

project managers and center directors might be excused for seeing politics at w

Just as agency management had to defend the NASA budget as if every p

counted, so each center director would see his programs as vital to agency n

The problem in part was one of communications. The greater the pressur

time, the faster the rate of significant change in the environment, the more i

related the various programs, the more difficult and necessary adequa~e com

nications would be.64 

So much for any simple, straightforward explanation of administrativ

havior. The question of what top management did remains open. This is 

answered by describing not discrete functions but broad areas of functional 

ities, none of which was completely distinct from the others, and all of w

served to form the structure of the organization and to settle some of the 

important policy issues. These activities are the establishment of uniform or

zational procedures; resource allocation; review and control; and the mainten

of intra-agency checks and balances. 

Establishment of Uniform Organizational Procedures 

Top management, particularly the Administrator, had the prerogati

establishing the organization and procedures most useful to carry out the N

mission. When Webb came on the scene, he found an organization young en

not to be hidebound by tradition and small enough to be changed with re

ease. This chapter has listed some of Webb's organizational changes: the cre

of bureaus with agencywide functional responsibilities for procurement, b

preparation, management development, public affairs, and the like; the u

internal task forces rather than outside consultants for management studie

establishment of the Office of the Administrator with a supporting exec

secretariat; the inauguration of annual reviews of each program area; the loc

of long-range planning in the line organization; and the invention of stereo

formats for management instructions, delegations of authority, and (though G

nan had done some of the preparatory work) project authorization. Because 

work of Webb and his associates, there was no need to set up an info

organization to bypass an inherited and cumbersome formal bureaucracy. 

Webb's freedom to maneuver in no way minimized the problem faced b

management in selling its philosophy to the rest of the agency-:a problem 

pounded by the changing nature of the NASA mission. In the early 1960s N

expanded prodigiously to develop its capabilities for manned spaceflight and 

science; toward the end of the decade NASA was becoming an aging researc

62 
HEADQUARTERS ORGANIZATION 

development organization where emphasis had shifted from "the development of 

capabilities to that of using capabilities already created to meet established 

needs." 65 The task of organization building thus had a dual aspect: The organization had to be able to get the job done, but it also had to be sufficiently detached 

from the immediate task to weather any sudden expansion or contraction in its 

resources. In any case, the top officials had to persuade the rest of NASA to accept 

their concept of how the agency should be managed. One way of doing this was 

to handpick key line and functional officials and to make it clear to those already 

on board that they must either "sign on" or look for jobs elsewhere. A second way 

to achieve consensus was through face-to-face encounters with other NASA 

officials. Unlike Glennan, Webb preferred small recurring meetings with heads 

of program and functional offices. These gave him the flexibility to explain policy, 

to get feedback from the staff, to discuss unresolved problems, and to decide 

whether to take immediate action or to table an item for subsequent resolution. 

Webb went to great lengths to enunciate the concepts behind organizational 

changes. Among those mentioned thus far are the concepts of functional management, the role of program associate administrators as group vice presidents, and 

making major top management decisions jointly. In essence, these concepts could 

be reduced to the basic principles of management by exception and collegiality. 

The former principle means that the higher levels of management were called on 

for decisions "only when something extraordinary occurred in the process of 

executing approved projects." 66 According to the latter principle, Webb accepted 

full responsibility for his agency, while delegating his functions and authority 

piecemeal to officials further down the line. Paradoxically, the option of decentralized decision making was available only to managers strong enough to delegate 

responsibility. 

Resource Allocation 

NASA management had the responsibility for (1) allocating resources, that 

is, determining how much of the agency funds should go for one program rather 

than another; (2) reviewing· proposals and providing the resources for implementing them; and (3) continually evaluating goals, programs, and the allocations 

themselves. What this meant was that headquarters officials-from the general 

manager down-worked toward a system in which each program had its place in 

the NASA mission and in which all programs were covered by documentation 

sufficient to track them from preliminary studies to formal termination. The 

history of NASA project authorization policies in the 1960s demonstrates that top 

management basically wanted two things: the ability to intervene at all key 

decision points in the life of a project (phased project planning) and the use of the 

project approval document to control the authorization and funding of every item 

in the operating budget. In the last analysis, the power of the purse, whether 

exercised by Seamans or delegated to Finger, was one of the most important 

internal constraints in determining the character and scope of NASA programs. 

63 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Also note that the power to allocate resources was also the power to say 

example, to deny Holmes the additional $400 million for Apollo that woul

had to come out of unmanned space science programs. 

Review and Control 

NASA management was responsible for control, defined by Sayl

Chandler as "the measurement, primarily after the fact) of the extent to 

funds are being spent wisely; schedules are likely to be met; and whet

federal personnel, contracting and other policies are being adhered to b

program offices and centers." 67 But to exercise control without knowing 

agency units were doing was meaningless. Hence the stress placed by W

means of gathering, screening, and disseminating information: the establi

of an executive secretariat for internal communications; Webb's appointm

consultants as links to the Departments of Defense and State and to the 

ligence community; the institutionalization of monthly status reviews and 

program reviews; and the creation of the Office of Organization and Manag

one of whose functions was to police the agency and to see that each un

measuring up to agencywide and Government-wide standards. 

Maintaining Intra-agency Checks and Balances 

Webb and Seamans sought to preserve a system of checks and b

within NASA. Thus program offices such as OSSA and OART forwarde

sion concepts different from those of OMSF, while functional management 

supposedly, as a check on the freedom of program offices and centers to 

their ends at the expense of the overall NASA program. Webb's policy of m

ment by exception meant that tradeoffs between one program office and a

or between headquarters and the centers had to be built into the system 

Hence the freedom of program directors to transfer funds between projects, 

to their ability to justify the transfers at management reviews. Hence th

lapping responsibilities of the program offices, the "space science" com

within OMSF, the "manned" element within OSSA, and their joint respon

for coordinating their supporting research and technology with OART

office also had agencywide responsibilities over and above its specific task: 

for aeronautics and supporting research and technology, OSSA for un

grants, OMSF for the development of large launch vehicles. Much over

and duplication was deliberate. Officials were able to report to two o

superiors if necessary; program associate administrators had "line" and 

functions; and certain functions, for example, those of an inspector genera

dispersed among four or five offices instead of being concentrated in one. 

overlapping forced each program or functional manager to undertake respo

ities in an agencywide context. 

64 
Chapter 4 

The NASA Acquisition Process: Contracting for 

Research and Development 

A SUMMARY OF NASA CONTRACTING PHILOSOPHY 

From its establishment to the present, NASA has contracted with the private 

sector for most of the products and services it uses. Compared with the organizational changes discussed in chapter 3, changes in this area have been slight. 

Between 1958 and 1965 NASA developed procedures at once internally consistent 

and politically acceptable, and which would spread NASA funds widely through 

the economy. The greater part of the acquisition process is traditionally called 

procurement, but that term is not used in this chapter title for three reasons: it sets 

too sharp a division between the preaward phase of the contract and its postaward 

administration; it implies that responsibility for contracts was concentrated in a 

particular headquarters office, when in fact there was scarcely a key official who 

was not involved; and something is needed to link procurement and contracting 

with the planning of NASA projects. Project planning (including listing mission 

objectives and their rationale, preliminary estimates of schedules and costs, and 

risk assessment) and procurement were the elements of a double-stranded process. 

The more general term acquisition process covers what is meant by procurement 

and has been used within NASA to signify "an orderly progression of Agency 

programs from early concept through the development and operation of 

hardware ... and [provision of] the best sources ... in the execution of projects 

and the performance of supporting services." 1 A basic feature of the process is that 

the program sets the contracting philosophy, not the reverse. 

What sort of programs are we talking about? The official NASA source 

evaluation board manual has enumerated those special features that bear on the 

process, including "technological complexity, tight time schedules, unusual reliability ~equirements, a general absence of quantity, and little follow-on produc65 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

tion." 2 As of March 1969 NASA had bought twenty Mercury, thirteen G

and thirty-eight Apollo (command service module) spacecraft, including 

erplate" (test) models and spacecraft modified for changed mission objec

Furthermore;NASA often had to contract for products whose main features 

not be precisely defined in advance, so there was no clear-cut basis on whi

bidder could estimate costs. In such cases NASA could not use formal adve

and turned to negotiated procurement. 

With important exceptions, NASA scientists and engineers have no

flight hardware. Rather, they have planned the program, drafted the guid

and established the parameters within which the product is to be deve

Viewed in this light, the rationale for an in-house staff has largely been to 

NASA to perform those functions that no government agency has the ri

contract out, functions enumerated by a former Director of the Bureau 

Budget as "the decisions on what work is to be done, what objectives are to 

for the work, what time period and what costs are to be associated with the 

what the results expected are to be ... the evaluation and the responsibilit

knowing whether the work has gone as it was supposed to go, and if it h

what went wrong, and how it can be corrected on subsequent occasions." 4 

out the experience of actually building a spacecraft or performing experi

center personnel could not effectively select industrial contractors or sup

flight projects running to many millions of dollars. The in-house work in adv

and supporting research and technology at Lewis, Langley, or Goddard wa

less for its own sake than because, without it, Government personnel woul

had no prospect of keeping contractors at arm's length. Nor could a center 

and keep the best people unless they had the opportunity, as Wernher von 

put it, "to keep in touch with the hardware and its problems." 5 

By separating evaluation and production, NASA acquisition philosop

had three especially important long-range consequences: the delegation o

nical direction and monitoring to the centers, the refusal to set up a prod

capacity already existing in the private sector, and the refusal to create ope

divisions intermediate between public and private sectors. 

NASA has generally preferred to stand in relation to private organiz

as buyer to seller and not to establish captive research centers like the R

Corporation, the Aerospace Corporation, and the Institute for Defense An

Exceptions such as Bellcomm and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory UPL) are 

apparent than real, although, like genuine Federal contract research center

worked for a single sponsor who guaranteed stable annual funding. 6 Bellc

NASA's one experiment in sponsoring an adjunct trouble-shooting organiz

differed in two respects from most captive groups: it was established as a 

making corporation, and it was dissolved when its ostensible reason for 

ended. As for JPL, it performed a variety of functions, and work was assig

though it were a NASA center. The reasons for NASA's aversion to c

organizations were complex, but they stemmed mainly from top manage

desire to keep NASA's suppliers at a healthy distance, rather than (in W

66 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

words) "to create some new kind of organism which we would then be responsible 

for monitoring and which would in some way become dependent on us for 

support ... and where we would have to evaluate their work not only on the 

projects assigned, but as to continued support." 7 When NASA contracted for 

analytical or advanced mission studies it did so ad hoc, and it was not averse to 

using those same Federal contract research centers it was loath to establish in its 

own organization.8 

NASA has generally preferred not to manufacture items available from 

private firms, even where it had the capacity to do so. Consider the choices posed 

by the problem of how best to develop automatic data processing (ADP) equipment, which was essential for mission control, data reduction, flight simulation, 

information retrieval, financial management, and image processing of data returned by remote sensors. NASA management chose not to build an ADP capability similar to what it was developing in space electronics. The compute_r was a tool, 

not an end product, and the research and development work of IBM, Control 

Data, and Minneapolis-Honeywell obviated the need to match the private sector 

strength for strength.9 Instead, the Office of Tracking and Data Acquisition 

compiled an annual ADP plan based on individual plans submitted by the centers. 

The plan served as the basis for reports required by the Bureau of the Budget and 

the General Services Administration, as a point of departure for negotiations with 

commercial suppliers, and as a yardstick for future planning. 10 This approach 

served NASA well. By 1967 NASA had gone from first-generation equipment 

based on vacuum tubes to second-generation (transistors), and third-generation 

(integrated circuitry) equipment in less than ten years.11 And by letting contracts 

for the installation, programming, and maintenance of computers-generally for 

one or three years with an option to renew-NASA escaped hea~y fixed costs for 

manpower and equipment. 

NASA's ADP planning also demonstrates the agency's policy of assigning the 

acquisition process to the field installations where engineers and procurement 

specialists had the competence to decide the feasibility of negotiated competition 

in any given instance, prepared the initial procurement plan that served as the 

basis for a request for proposal (RFP), and made awards up to a dollar level that 

was raised from time to time by headquarters.12 Even in cases where headquarters 

made the award-where the bidding was noncompetitive or the action involved a 

competitively negotiated procurement of an amount more than the centers were 

authorized to handle-most of the preliminary steps were taken by center employees who wrote the procurement plan or served on the source evaluation boards 

reporting to the Administrator. Since the technical expertise to evaluate and the 

management skills to select were heavily concentrated at the centers, any other 

course would have been less efficient. 

However, a word of caution seems in order. Drawing the line between 

evaluation as an internal function and design and production carried out by firms 

under contract was not easy. The private sector has been called on to define the 

major systems of most large programs; to integrate the interrelated parts of a 

67 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

system, such as the stages of a launch vehicle or the vehicle and the payload 

intended to place in orbit; or to do checkout analysis that required the insp

of other companies' performance. In addition, the selection of the most qu

bidder depended on the qualifications sought. Agency officials had to deci

example, whether to negotiate only with the most technically competent so

to encourage limited competition to obviate NASA's becoming captive 

single contractor; whether to select one firm to integrate all the system

complex flight project like Apollo, to have the work done by several com

under NASA technical direction, or to have it done by NASA employees; 

what extent one or more contractors could share in the early planning st

approved programs. None of these problems was purely technical. In choo

source, NASA had to consider not only the contractor's skills but also h

selection would affect NASA's relations with Congress, other Federal ag

and the aerospace community. 

So much by way of summary. To analyze the contracting cycle withou

swamped in complexities, the remainder of this chapter deals with the qu

such a process raises: 

1. How did the procurement (contracting) process develop to subserve th

for which NASA was constituted? 

2. To what extent did NASA staff retain full control of program planni

management? Alternatively, what was perceived within NASA to 

dividing line between functions that could and could not be deleg

outsiders, whether firms, not-for-profit research· centers, or universi

3. To what extent did NASA's acquisition polices achieve such goals as 

imum competition consistent with the nature of the procurement," pro

"the best sources to participate in the execution of projects and th

formance of supportingservices" and other formal expressions of po

In short, how well did the acquisition process work on its own term

ORIGINS OF GOVERNMENT BY CONTRACT 

As one student of Federal contracting has observed, the shiftfrom wor

in-house to contracting out was the result "not so much of explicit congre

direction as of agency decisions, in which Congress acquiesced, to seek t

portant advantages believed to be gained from close contacts with the capa

of the private sector in R&D." 14 One could trace the American bias in fa

private enterprise to at least the late 18th century; but for our purposes, w

not go as far back as Hamilton's Report on Manufactures. After World W

three circumstances conspired to increase enormously the volume and dolla

of work done for the Federal service under contract and to change the cha

of that work: the virtues of contracting out to the private sector, the limitat

68 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

formal advertising, and the demand for special skills in the management and 

integration of complex weapons systems. The advantages of contracting, especially 

for management and consulting services, were readily apparent. The Government 

could tap experience and capabilities already available in the private sector; it was 

not bound by civil service regulations pertaining to hiring, dismissal, salaries, or 

work termination; persons who would not work for the Government because of 

red tape could be hired under these conditions; and the use of contractors probably 

allowed a much more rapid buildup of a large work force where such manpower 

was needed. 

At the same time, many Federal agencies, especially the Department of 

Defense (DOD), found the limitations of formal advertising irksome. The 1947 

Armed Services Procurement Act reaffirmed that advertising would remain the 

norm, and other modes "exceptions," for Government contracting.15 Yet advertising had only limited application for defense and, later, for space research and 

development. To advertise for bids, one must usually be specific about the item 

required, the design must remain fixed over a long period, and the lowest bid must 

normally be accepted by the contracting officer. In practice, formal advertising did 

not lead to more competition; a 1966 RAND study showed that of some 2300 

procurements studied, 45 percent resulted in three bids or less, 32 percent in two 

bids or less, and 8 percent in only one bid.16 Increasingly, agencies with long-leadtime programs began to waive formal advertising-as the Armed Services Procurement Act allowed them to-in favor of negotiation because it allowed them 

much greater scope in exploring their bidders' proposals and cost data. 

The only programs since the Manhattan Project comparable to the NASA 

mission were the weapon systems programs managed by the Air Force since 1954. 

Problems that became characteristic of civilian space research and developmentthe difficulty of estimating costs, the general uncertainties of the process, the long 

lead times-had already been faced by the Air Force in the management of the 

Atlas and Titan intercontinental ballistic missiles. In 1954 the Air Force established a Western Development Division of the Air Research and Development 

Command under Gen. Bernard Schriever to direct and coordinate its ballistic 

missile programs. The similarity between Western Development and NASA need 

not be pushed too far. The former was a blank-check outfit set up to run a crash 

program to close the missile gap. Under Schriever's philosophy of concurrency, 

production and operations were telescoped together, even while research and 

development were proceeding. Concurrency meant "simultaneous work on basic 

and applied research, vehicle design, component design, test facility design and 

construction, component and system testing, the creation of production facilities, 

and the design, proof, and test of launch site facilities without which the missile 

would be impotent." 17 

Schriever's approach to program management was equally radical. The case 

for hiring systems contractors to manufacture and integratt: the components was 

not open and shut. The Army, at its Huntsville Arsenal, was as capable of 

69 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

developing weapon systems (e.g., Jupiter) as complex as the Air Force

intermediate-range ballistic missile. In essence, the Air Force turned to 

contractors because it had neither the depth of competence found in Army 

tories nor the time to recruit engineers. For various reasons, including pol

Air Force preferred to foster a civilian aerospace industry in peacetim

research and development capabilities were there, ready to be exploited

over, many Air Force weapons managers were convinced that, in contra

Army's arsenal system, "intimate relations with industry did promote a sig

shortening of the long period of weapons gestation." 18 While retaining 

responsibility for its programs, the Air Force delegated to civilians every a

the research and development cycle. In several cases the Air Force selected 

contractor for technical integration, testing, assembly, subcontracting, 

like; this was how the Bomarc missile and the B-58 bomber were develop

its ballistic missile programs, the Air Force worked through several as

contractors for components and subsystems and hired a separate organiza

Ramo-Wooldridge Corporation, to serve as technical director of the p

Ramo-Wooldridge, excluded from production of hardware, was both "li

"staff''; the former insofar as it did systems engineering and provided t

direction for the Western Development Division, and the latter inasmuch 

did long-range planning studies for the Air Force.20 

The Army's arsenal system and the Air Force's use of independ

tractors for systems engineering might be considered two extremes in the 

ment's management of its R&D programs. Yet there is a point at which e

meet. At the Huntsville Arsenal "as much or as little in-house produc

possible as was compatible with the objective of keeping the technical team 

fringes of research and development work, or assuring the most rapid 

ment of a specific item." 21 On the other hand, the Air Force, in hiring 

Wooldridge and, later, the Aerospace Corporation to provide technical d

for its missile programs, was creating its parallel to the arsenal system

could use features of both approaches without duplicating either. From th

ning it was NASA policy to contract out for items that could not be proc

the shelf (table 4-1). 

How far NASA was prepared to go in hiring a contractor to do int

work is less clear. Some centers, like Goddard, occasionally integrated th

flight projects. In the case of the largest projects, especially Apollo, it is 

certain that there was a single contractor or center to integrate all the 

Rather, each center delegated its responsibility to an industrial contra

example, Marshall's Saturn IB and Saturn V integration to Chrysler and 

respectively. With NACA laboratories, the Vanguard Division of th

Research Laboratory, and the von Braun team, NASA had the compe

perform those functions in-house that the Air Force had delegated to 

Wooldridge and the Aerospace Corporation. The following section exami

NASA developed and refined its policies for acquiring and launching 

space systems. 

70 
Table 4-1. - Distribution of direct NASA procur

Type FY 1959 1 FY 1960 FY 1961 FY 1962 FY 1963 FY 

Net Value of Awards (M

Total 1212.5 1336.7 1755.5 11 550.6 13 230.5 14 5

Business firms 87.8 174.0 423.3 1 030.1 2 261.7 3 5

Educational 5.8 17.0 24.5 50.2 86.9 1

Nonprofit 15.3 

JPL 22.4 38.3 86.0 148.5 230.2 2

Government 96.5 107.4 221.7 321.8 628.5 6

Outside U.S. (') (') (') (') 7.9 

Percent of Total 

Total 100 100 100 100 100 1

Business firms 41 52 56 66 70 

Educational 3 5 3 3 3 

Nonprofit (') 

JPL 11 11 12 10 7 

Government 45 32 29 21 20 

Outside U.S. (') (') ( ') (') (') (

1 Nine months operation. 

2 Included in Government. 

'Less than 0.5 percent. 

Source: NASA Procurement Office, Annual Procurement Report, Fiscal Year 1968, p. 70. 

-J ...... 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

How NASA LEARNED To DEAL WITH ITS CONTRACTORS, 1958-1

The management of the acquisition process may be considered as a 

subsidiary, interrelated problems: providing a legal framework, creating a 

selection procedure, safeguarding the privileged nature of source selection 

ments, and finding the right organizational location for the procurement fu

With modifications, NASA adopted the Armed Services Procurement Regu

of 194 7, which had been extended to civilian agencies in 1949 by delegation 

General Services Administration (GSA). The procurement regulations, 

listed seventeen categories exempted from the rule of awarding to the 

responsible bidder, including "services for which competition was impracti

and "services for experimental or developmental work," enabled NASA to 

tiate R&D contracts and even go to a company on a sole-source basis. 22 

exchange of letters in 1959, GSA permitted NASA to follow the armed s

regulations in those cases where they differed from GSA's Federal procu

regulations, otherwise binding on all civilian agencies. 

Under Glennan, officials adopted and modified the DOD source eva

procedure for proposals on large prime contracts-those of $1 million or 

When NASA negotiated in such cases, the usual procedure was to set up a 

evaluation board (SEB). By 1961 the procedure had been elaborated to co

the following stages: preparing a procurement request by the responsible d

or center; drafting a procurement plan by the appropriate contracting off

which was outlined the proposed procurement, the funding, the sources 

solicited, the type of contract to be used, the schedule for completing the pr

ment, and the negotiation determination and findings; preparing a requ

proposal if the contract was to be negotiated; and awarding the contract 

Administrator whenever the contract was for $5 million or more. Each stage 

process had its own difficulties-the precision with which procurement 

could be drawn, the decision to advertise or to negotiate, and fixing the par

stage of the R&D cycle at which to request proposals. The developmen

standard selection procedure took several years, but Glennan took two key 

The first, announced in August 1959, was the promulgation of guidelin

awarding very large contracts; this was to be done by the Administrator, a

by ad hoc boards responsible for establishing the selection criteria for eac

tract. The second, determined in late 1960, clarified the role of the boa

source selection. "Instead of the [source evaluation board] selecting con

sources, or making recommendations, it became the primary SEB functio

to evaluate potential sources and order rank their findings. The selection d

rested solely with the Administrator." 2 ' 

Yet it would be misleading to assert that NASA had a uniform se

procedure, even in 1961. There was no single evaluation process. "There ha

almost as many approaches . .. as there had been NASA programs .... 

Headquarters had provided only the broadest guidelines for source eva

practices ... thereby permitting the Centers wide latitude and flexibility 

72 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

this area." L" Moreover, there was a real danger that the formal selection process 

might become so cumbersome as to defeat its own ends by increasing rather than 

lowering the cost of R&D. 

In addition, Glennan and later Webb had to come to terms with the supposedly privileged nature of source selection documents. They would both insist 

that certain records of contract negotiations, such as the SEB report, should not 

be available to congressional committees; that their disclosure could only damage 

relations between NASA and its contractors, jeopardizing the mode by which both 

sides transacted business; and that, in any case, nothing essential was omitted in 

those documents that NASA chose to make public. This issue, which first surfaced 

in 19 59 when the U.S. Comptroller General and later the House Science and 

Astronautics Committee demanded the records of NASA's negotiations with the 

Rocketdyne Corporation for the F -1 engine, was to become the basis of serious 

criticism in 1967 when Webb refused to produce certain key documents pertaining 

to the North American Aviation contract for the Apollo command and service 

modules.2 ' In a very real sense, the "production of documents" controversy was 

part of the larger question of how far NASA was willing to go in riding herd on 

its prime contractors: whether, for example, it was prepared to terminate a contract in midcourse because of the contractor's incompetence or go to a second source 

when a contractor was unable to fulfill its responsibilities; whether NASA was 

willing to disallow costs and penalize contractors for overruns; finally, whether 

NASA had a sufficient depth of in-house skills to prevent the agency from becoming captive to its contractors. 

The question facing Webb, Dryden, and Seamans in mid-1961 was how well 

such a contracting system would serve to organize the manned lunar landing 

program. In general, they accepted, while improving on, the procedures instituted 

by Glennan. The principle of contracting out for R&D was reaffirmed; the role 

of in-house staff in technical direction was stressed; and headquarters officials took 

it upon themselves to make procurement policy more uniform yet flexible enough 

for NASA to obtain space hardware whose main features could not be specified 

in advance. The key organizational change was the establishment of an Office of 

Industry Affairs in March 1963, _with NASA's Procurement Division placed 

directly under it.* " .. . instead of being one of several divisions in the Office of 

Administration, the Procurement Division became the all-important division 

under a Deputy Associate Administrator." 21' Procurement Director Ernest Brackett and his deputy, George J. Vecchietti, who succeeded him in February 1964, 

laid down the general rules of the process: to advise the head of the Office of 

Industry Affairs on procurement matters, to publish and coordinate agencywide 

procurement policies, to make determinations respecting procurement matters, 

and to serve as liaison with other agencies, especially DOD's office of Installations 

and Logistics.

27 Brackett's powers did not extend directly to the substantive nature 

• An autonomous Headquart ers Procurement Bra nch was established in July 1961. 

73 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

of NASA contracting. It was the center employees' responsibility to draw 

procurement plan, draft technical specifications, and develop realistic co

budget estimates. 

The other important changes of 1961-1963 focused on two closely r

problems: how to structure the contract to the work desired and how to dra

line between functions that could or could not be delegated to contractors. 

largest R&D contracts NASA had to go to negotiation; and while negotiati

not automatically preclude competition, attaining competition became 

difficult. There were also two situations in which competition was not fe

and the contracting officer recommended that NASA negotiate with a singl

The first case is represented by the contracts for the Gemini spacecraft and 

improved Delta launch vehicles, both of which were awarded to the McDo

Douglas Corporation. McDonnell-Douglas had been prime contractor f

Mercury spacecraft. The Mercury and Gemini designs were similar, the 

program was intended to follow closely on the first, and the technical expe

gained in Mercury gave McDonnell-Douglas a decided advantage over 

potential suppliers. The justification for negotiating with McDonnell-Doug

the Delta vehicles was similar. The firm had the experience and proven cap

to do the work, going to a new source would cost an additional $10-20 millio

delay launch schedules by eighteen to thirty months, and without McDo

Douglas experience, it would be difficult even to prepare definitive specific

outlining the scope of the work. 28 The second case was one in which, as Br

explained, 

the nature and scope of the work is such that very special technical, management, <>.nd o

nizational capabilities are required. In such situations, while it cannot be said that the

only one company capable of performing the work, a particular company nevertheless st

out among all others as possessing a superior combination of the requisite, and somet

unique, skills. 29 

In the same category were the contracts involving the creation of Bellcom

commissioning General Electric to perform test and checkout services in su

of Apollo. 

But the difficulty in working such a system was that it tended to w

NASA's bargaining position vis-a-vis its suppliers. NASA officials wan

many alternatives as were available, and they wanted to bring about a s

affairs where the contractor also stood to lose. In 1961 the majority of 

R&D contracts proVided for paying a contractor for all acceptable costs 

fixed amount of fee as profit, or simply cost-plus-fixed-fee (CPFF). * Wh

their value in attracting bidders, CPFF contracts could scarcely be cons

efficient even by the most liberal definition. In a "cost-plus" contract, th

tractor was not penalized sufficiently for underbidding or for inadequat

formance. Nor did the contractor have any real incentive to economize. Qu

* See appendix D for definitions of contracts authorized by NASA. 

74 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

contrary; while the fee was fixed, cost overruns would be profitable to the 

contractor. 

In effect, the problems plaguing NASA contract policy ran the gamut from 

heavy cost overruns to the expense of preparing proposals (an expense borne 

almost entirely by the Government), to the excessive time spent by NASA employees in judging proposals, to firms' reliance on "brochuresmanship" to win NASA 

contracts. For each contract, several questions had to be resolved. For example, 

should the contractor use Government-furnished equipment or provide its own 

facilities, and how much should be allowed for research and development undertaken at the contractor's discretion, so-called independent research and development? Such problems were closely related and had to be attacked from many 

angles, from program definition to postaward administration. The principles that 

NASA officials enunciated were the ones behind the major reforms of 1962-1965: 

developing realistic specifications before proposals were solicited, including in the 

RFP as many of the definitive contract terms as possible, strengthening in-house 

capabilities for technical direction, and screening proposals to eliminate companies with no reasonable chance of receiving a contract. 

THE BELL REPORT AND ITS AFTERMATH, 1962-1963 

The NASA acquisition system was not solely a technical response to technical 

problems of managing the space program. NASA, DOD, and the Atomic Energy 

Commission, the three Federal agencies that spent 90 percent of the Government's 

R&D dollars, had to come to terms with a blurring of the public and private 

sectors in the late 1950s.30 When the facilities of the Atomic Energy Commission 

were operated under contract, when many of the leading aerospace firms did 

essentially all their business with the Federal Government, when a very large 

share of university research was funded with Federal grants- the line between 

private and public was no longer clear. Of all the studies devoted to the problem, 

one of the most searching and influential was the report to the President submitted 

by Budget Director David Bell on 30 April 1962.31 The task force that Bell 

chaired included Webb, Defense Secretary Robert McNamara, Presidential Science Advisor Jerome Wiesner, the chairmen of the Atomic Energy Commission 

and Civil Service Commission, and the director of the National Science Foundation. The Bell report did not set guidelines applicable to every circumstance or 

draft rules broad enough to cover all contingencies, but it did lay down a general 

rule: 

There are certain functions which should under no circumstances be contracted out. The 

management and control of the Federal research and development effort must be firmly in 

the hands of full-time Government officials clearly responsible to the President and Congress . 

. . . decisions concerning the types of work to be undertaken, when, by whom, and what 

cost ... must be made by full-time Government officials.32 

75 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

The report also concluded that the effects of contracting out Federal R&D 

"on the Government's own ability to execute research and development wor

been deleterious"; and the report's principal recommendation-that Fe

agencies use their laboratories to maintain knowledge of the most advanced sc

and technology-was put forward as a means of making Government a 

sophisticated buyer?3 The Bell report accepted as settled the need for sci

based agencies to go outside Government for scarce and valuable skills; it defe

the profit motive as often the most effective way to get the job done; and it str

dismissed any notion that the Government provide hardware or services that 

available from the general economy. 

What effects did the Bell report have on the Federal structure in genera

on NASA in particular? One of its recommendations, that pay scales for Fe

scientific personnel should be made "comparable" to those in the private s

was partially met by the 1962 Federal Salary Reform Act, which also abol

the quota on the number of supergrade positions allotted for scientists an

gineers. The report had also warned the Government that its contracto

employees were too often placing themselves in situations where conflic

interest became unavoidable; here, tentative guidelines were set forth in a P

dential memorandum of 2 May 1963.34 Most important, the report recomme

broader use both of fixed-price contracts and contracts with incentive provi

In this case, some of the pressure for change came from those agencies, espe

DOD, that were represented on the Bell task force. Prior to the report's pub

tion, DOD officials had addressed some of the problems that led to the task f

creation by (1) publishing jointly with NASA a guide to stiffen the repo

requirements imposed on their prime contractors; (2) introducing the conc

program budgeting, whereby the Defense budget, force requirements, and 

native methods of meeting them were combined on a multiyear basis; (3) stre

ening the "hardware ban" so that no firm could act as general systems eng

and produce components for the same project; (4) tightening contract adm

tration; and (5) revising in March 1962 the armed services procurement 

lations to make the fixed-price contract the preferred type or (where thi

impracticable) to include incentive provisions with fees up to 15 percent.35 

Not all DOD management procedures could be transferred wholly to N

if only because NASA contracted for some products that were much more sp

ized than anything the military needed. In fact, the contracting styles of th

agencies differed. Unlike DOD, NASA took title to all inventions resulting 

the performance of R&D contracts, as required by section 305 of the Space 

As of 1962, NASA had no "excess profits" clause in its contracts and wa

bound by DOD's statutory requirement to terminate a contract if the contr

offered or gave a gratuity to secure favored treatment.36 Further, program bu

ing, which came to be almost synonymous with Defense Secretary McNam

method of working, was only reluctantly accepted at NASA when it was exte

to civilian agencies in 1965. All the same, the innovations at DOD were b

to have repercussions within NASA. The Space Act required both agenc

76 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

coordinate their programs, they shared many of the same prime contractors, and 

since its establishment NASA had used contract administration services supplied 

by DOD. The 1963 changes in NASA procurement were due essentially to the 

example set by DOD, combined with technical problems intrinsic to the space 

program.37 But whatever limited steps NASA took before the summer of 1962 to 

reduce the cost of doing business with industry, the Bell report made it politic to 

intensify such changes. The first, middle, and last steps involved improving the 

definition of specific programs, which NASA did by revising its contracting structure: using fixed-price contracts where possible, eliminating letter contracts, and 

rewarding contractors for detailed, accurate estimates and for selecting their subcontractors competitively. 

The sequence of changes in NASA's contracting system can be stated briefly. 

On 29 May 1962 Webb appointed a study group chaired by Walter Sohier, the 

NASA General Counsel, to review the source evaluation procedure arid various 

methods of improving contractor performance.38 Between the establishment of the 

Special Procurement Study and its final report in February 1963, NASA moved 

toward wider use of incentive contracts. In September a NASA circular announced that the agency would favor "procurements that lend themselves to the 

use of contract incentive provisions" while avoiding their use where they were 

unsuitable. In the same month Webb named Robert H . Charles, a McDonnell 

executive, as his special assistant with responsibility for procurement. Before he 

left NASA in November 1963 to become Assistant Air Force Secretary (Installations and Logistics), Charles wrote several reports whose main conclusion-that 

"significant improvement in product quality .. . timeliness and cost can be 

achieved if the procurement process is saturated with competition before contract 

execution, and with performance and cost reduction incentives thereafter"-became the cornerstone of NASA contracting policy.39 The events of the 

following year represented the unfolding of this principle: the final report of the 

study group, recommending that NASA improve its handling of incentive contracts and compel its contractors to prepare better work statements; the January 

1963 budget request, which provided for the establishment of an Electronics 

Research Center; Seamans' memorandums of 25 February and 22 March to all 

center directors, suggesting that the RFP, including the. incentive clause, "contain 

the precise language of the definitive contract terms"; and the directive of November 1963, ordering that CPFF contracts be reduced substantially and that incentives be considered for all.40 

The Bell report was less the effective cause of these changes than their 

catalyst. The report, signed by Webb, did not go beyond NASA practice or the 

1960 report of the Kimpton committee. NASA had always accepted in principle 

the division between in-house and contracted work. Years later, Webb asserted 

that he had "made sure that the things I considered important either could or 

would be incorporated in the final report .. .. It may be that on certain of the most 

important matters, I played one of the more decisive roles." 4 1 By endorsing the 

existing system the Bell report made it easier for NASA and DOD to make some 

77 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

changes that would go down well with Congress. Any policy intended to sav

money by rewarding a contractor for good performance and penalizing it for 

one would be welcome there. To act in the spirit of the Bell report was good p

relations, and it was cited explicitly before congressional committees as just

tion for establishing an Electronics Research Center or writing incentive 

visions into new contracts.42 

To repeat, the real basis for the 1962-1963 changes must be sought i

risk-bearing features of NASA programs. It is easy enough to assume tha

risks were almost entirely on NASA's side. But from the standpoint of 

companies that NASA invited to bid, the risk might not seem worth taking. 

for instance, should a business organization invest enormous capital in bui

a plant to produce liquid hydrogen with no guarantee that it would be n

beyond a few missions? Contracts also tended to change as the systems did

R&D of this sort, NASA used CPFF rather than competitive biddin

fixed-price contracts. But the great, the fatal, defects of CPFF were that prof

not tied to performance and that for all intents and purposes the contractor 

not lose. The firm was not penalized for overruns nor rewarded for administ

efficiency. The firm had more reason to concentrate on getting the contract-

by bidding low-than on managing it. 

The difficulties with incentives were of a different order, dependin

whether a new contract or conversion from CPFF was involved. Incentives 

tricky: Often little hard data were available to determine the relative impor

of performing on time, within cost, and to specifications. These difficulties 

compounded when converting an existing contract. The problem had a fiv

aspect: 

1. Seeking to make the buyer more sophisticated in defining the mission d

and the standards for successful performance. 

2. Determining the proper weight and scoring for such performance. 

3. Avoiding unrealistic cost estimates. 

4. Persuading the contractor to adjust risk and convert voluntarily. 

5. Reducing the number of cases of sole-source procurement without retu

to competitive bidding and its disadvantages. 

These goals were not easily attained. To convert the North Americah 

ation and McDonnell contracts for the Apollo and Gemini spacecraft took 

1962 through 1965. Few systems were as simple as the Early Bird commu

tions satellite, which was "well-defined, requiring little or no development, op

ing with little or no technical direction, and procuring an essentially off-the

item.'"'3 Others, like the J -2 engine, were difficult to manage, let alone co

because the programs themselves were changing. Originally designed for a 

stage vehicle, this engine had to be modified for the S-II stage of the Satu

and its firing time extended from 250 to 350 to 400 and eventually to more 

500 seconds. When the contract had been negotiated, no firm requirement ex

for such an engine, and it involved "a minimum of facilities, a minimum of 

78 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

and an engine which is considerably short of the present performance." 44 In such 

cases, the variables affecting NASA's ability to convert a contract from CPFF to 

some form of incentive were the technical complexity of the project, the contractor's attitude toward conversion, the technical competence of the NASA contracting officer, and the objective desired-whether cost control, prompt delivery, or 

improvement in performance. All these criteria were tied to the source evaluation 

procedure by which the contractor was selected. As we shall see, there was often 

less competition than the system promised because some companies were so clearly 

superior for a given system that NASA had to resort to sole-source procurement. 

Moreover, while the SEBs only "evaluated," rarely did headquarters select someone not in effect recommended by the evaluation.45 Indeed, one official complained 

that in certain contracts for support services Webb and Seamans concluded "that 

they could do nothing else than to accept the judgment of the source evaluation 

board." 46 

NASA Contract Administration 

By the end of 1964 NASA had revised its contracting structure within the 

management system established by the 1963 reorganization. In general, NASA 

had brought its contracting policies into line with those of DOD and had delegated 

to the Defense Supply Agency and the Defense Contract Audit Agency much of 

the responsibility for administering its contracts, a development foreshadowed by 

DOD's Project 60 study, begun in May 1962. In August 1963 the Project 60 

policy committee, which included NASA representatives, recommended consolidating NASA and DOD field contract administration in a single agency under the 

Office of the Secretary of Defense, a recommendation first carried out as a pilot 

project in the five-State Philadelphia region beginning in April 1964. 47 That June 

DOD consolidated its field administration service into eleven Contract Administration Service regions, which handled the vast bulk of NASA contracts, and the 

transition period was largely over by 1966. 

In substance, NASA delegated many contract functions to Defense agencies, 

that is, the authority to handle property administration or to consent to smaller 

subcontracts. NASA retained the authority to change the terms of the contract. At 

the beginning of FY 1967 DOD was administering approximately 1700 NASA 

contracts totaling $11.7 billion; 1500 of these, worth $4.2 billion, were handled by 

the Defense Contract Administration Service (DCAS), set up as a result of Project 60, while another 200, worth $7.5 billion, were managed by that military 

department having "cognizance" of all contracts in one plant.* The Air Force, for 

• In one case NASA departed from the principle of using DOD capability. From 1962 to 1967 NASA 

maintained a contract management unit at North American Aviation's plant in Downey, California, to represent 

NASA on plantwide matters and to provide day-to-day support for the Apollo command and service modules 

and the second stage of the Saturn V. 

79 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

example, had cognizance of Boeing (Seattle), Rocketdyne, and Douglas, whil

Navy handled Grumman. Where NASA let a contract that would not be 

formed at a cognizant assigned plant, it was sent to the DCAS regional o

where the contractor was located. The great advantages of this arrangement 

that it allowed NASA to work through a single Government agency, DCAS

field administration; it avoided a wasteful duplication of services; and it ena

NASA to make maximum effective use of. DOD, while reserving to itself 

functions that it could not delegate. 

The Hilburn Task Force and the Origins of 

Phased Project Planning ( 1964-1965) 

If 1964 was the year in which NASA attained organizational maturity, it 

marked the stage at which some of its largest projects ran into serious trouble

September the delays, particularly in Apollo, had become so grave that Seam

warned Mueller "if present trends continue we will not achieve a lunar lan

in this decade and the cost of the program will be in excess of twenty bi

dollars." 48 Why was the situation worse than it had been a year earlier? 

answer lies partly in the peculiar technical difficulties connected with Ap

requiring as it did the simultaneous development of a launch vehicle, three sp

craft modules, and ground support equipment at the Cape. Many compon

operated satisfactorily when tested alone but failed when incorporated in

system, for example, the automatic checkout equipment for the A

spacecraft.49 

The difficulty that became increasingly evident to Seamans and his staf

that the contractor's organization was not structurally adequate to the dem

made upon it. North American Aviation, the prime contractor for the comm

and service modules, was also responsible (through its Rocketdyne Division

the S-II stage of the Saturn V and for the F-1 and J-2 engines that would p

all three stages. Top management was entirely aware that "when you le

contract, all you've done is started a process that with the greatest of care, 

ability, and drive will produce a bird. All you've done is put in motion forces 

have the capability but which could fail at any point along the line." 50 There 

no easy solutions to the problems generated by Apollo or, in lesser degre

Surveyor, Ranger, Nimbus, and the Orbiting Observatories. In the case of Ap

management could go to a second source for the propulsion system and act

considered doing this. 5 1 NASA could stick with North American Aviation 

tighten the reins by more careful definition of the work to be done or by 

frequent visits by the Apollo program manager. Finally, another corpor

could be hired to integrate the three stages of the Saturn V with each other 

with the spacecraft. Clearly, turning a program around in midcourse is 

difficult than precisely defining a program at the beginning. 

However, new methods like phased project planning were not introd

simply because of drastic schedule slippages. The problem facing NASA was 

80 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

simple and more complex than one of slippages: simpler because the causes of the 

delays could probably be dealt with by improved management techniques that 

already e~isted-incentive contracts, projectized management, and closer control 

by headquarters; more complex because both the Bureau of the Budget and the 

President could be expected to "go to a greater level of detail [than before] and 

examine all deviations in program content, delays in launch schedules, and other 

factors which affect total program costs." 52 Failures that might have been excusable in a new agency would be of more concern now that NASA had the 

experience, the manpower, and the funds to get things done. In NASA's first three 

years, more than half its launches failed, but it received little criticism. However, 

after the failure of Ranger 6 in February 1964, Congress made it clear to NASA 

that no more would be tolerated. Hence the tone of Webb's letter to Seamans 

quoted above, a letter remarkable for its frankness and realism. Management 

would have to "learn to predict future costs more accurately" and to reduce them 

"to an absolute minimum," a task that would involve "timely reexaminations of 

some of our basic operating practices. " 

Then Webb explained what he had in mind: 

We must, for example, find an effective means to take all actions necessary to terminate 

developmental costs when developmental tasks are completed before the time when we can 

incorporate them in a test system, and not have to continue underwriting a .. . team to protect 

ourselves against the eventuality that the production articles intended for later consumptions 

may encounter difficulties . . .. [Otherwise) we will find ourselves continually on the defensive with respect to the management and budgeting of the program, even though the flight 

missions succeed. Those who are opposed to this program will take advantage of every 

opportunity in these areas to discredit the agency and the program. 

Phased project planning was only one method among several that NASA 

management used to bring programs under greater control. Others included the 

revision of NASA's contract with JPL, pressure on the centers to tighten their 

monitoring of flight projects, and a series of task force studies by the Office of 

Programming on NASA cost and schedule estimating that were carried out in the 

summer of 1963. The most important of these studies was conducted at Marshall 

and led to the conclusions that "nobody knew anything beyond his specific area 

of responsibility," and that more advanced planning was essential-a policy that 

the task force sold to Seamans and, through him, to Webb. 3 5 That NASA officials 

were considering the phasing of projects long before they issued guidelines is 

evident from a July 1964 memorandum by Seamans, recommending that 

any new projects should be planned on a phased basis with successive contracts for advanced 

studies, program definition, prototype design, and flight hardware and operations. This will 

permit the work statements, including development engineering, to evolve in an orderly 

manner with maximum realism.54 

At the same time Seamans assigned Deputy Associate Administrator Earl 

Hilburn to study current methods of scheduling and estimating the cost of projects. 

81 
00 

N 

Table 4-2. - Average schedule slippage factor for variou

Project Successful 

Launched 

Unsuccessful All Flights C

No. Average No. Average No. Average No. 

Total 75 1.74 28 1.58 103 1.70 38 

Communications 10 1.65 2 1.46 12 1.61 5 

Lunar 1 1.79 6 1.24 7 1.32 - 

Planetary 1 1.05 2 1.00 3 1.01 2 

OART 5 1.96 5 1.75 10 1.85 1 

Meteorology 9 1.69 0 - 9 1.69 2 

Observatories 1 2.07 1 1.67 2 1.87 - 

Simple scientific 

satellites 16 1.70 7 1.63 25 1.68 4 

Manned spacecraft (S/ C) 

and all systems 9 2.27 1 1.93 10 2.24 17 

Launch vehicle development 11 1.60 1 1.64 12 1.60 2 

Engines - - - - - - 2 

Boilerplate S/C 10 1.60 3 1.72 13 1.72 3 

Biosatellite - - - - - - 

Source: Second Interim Report to the Associate Administrator on Studies Relating to Management Effectiven

p. 2. 
00 

Vl 

Center 

Successful 

Launched 

Unsuccessful All Flights 

No. Average No. Average No. Average 

Total 75 1.74 28 1.38 103 1.70 

Manned Spacecraft 

Center' 19 1.92 5 1.94 24 1.92 

Marshall 9 1.34 3 1.54 12 1.39 

Goddard 33 1.72 4 1.63 37 1.71 

Jet Propulsion Laboratory 2 1.42 8 1.18 10 1.23 

Langley 9 1.79 7 1.74 16 1.77 

Lewis 2 3 2.28 1 1.04 4 2.08 

Ames - - - - - 

1 Includes all Mercury flights. 

2 Includes all Centaur vehicles. 

3 Lunar module and command service module for the same flight are listed separately, as are Agen

Source: Second Interim Report to the Associate Administrator on Studies Relating to Management Eff

p. 3. 

Table 4-3. -Average schedule slippage f
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

In two reports submitted in September and December 1964, Hilburn lai

basis for many subsequent changes. He concluded that slippages were great

propulsion systems and in launch vehicles requiring new engine develop

that, on the whole, slippages were greatest in the newer centers; that the la

cost increases were due to incomplete definition of the work at the start; and 

delays in one mission impinged on all future missions in that series (tables 4-

4-3).55 Most significantly, Hilburn concluded "that NASA's project contro

be improved; that slippages and overruns are not inevitable ... it is felt 

sweeping changes in organization or procedures are neither necessary no

sirable."56 NASA already had the remedies in hand; all that was needed w

intensify their use. Align all projects on a "vertical" basis and see that all 

tractors do the same; conduct project reviews to identify all areas of du

("soft") planning; wherever possible, put contracts on a multiple incentive 

with special weighting for costs and schedules.57 

By January 1965, agency policy was to define all programs as explici

possible. Phased project planning (PPP) was only one method of attack 

perhaps not even the most important. Reserving to chapter 6 a detailed ac

of NASA program planning, several features of PPP nevertheless deserve em

sis here. First, the guidelines of October 1965 applied specifically to new pr

at a time when very few new projects were starting and several that had rea

the advanced study phase had to be canceled. Second, the concept, if not the n

was certainly not new. To cite one example, the construction of the 64-meter 

antenna at Goldstone, California, as part of the Deep Space Network was 

tioned by Seamans as "almost a textbook case of phased project planning." 58 W

he did single out as new was "the agency's ability at this point to assure th

new projects can be undertaken in this manner." 59 Third, as a rna jor be

NASA would be able to keep all options open as long as possible. Here

language of the relevant policy directive is significant. PPP was "not an e

itself"; it was introduced only to ensure that research and development would 

be conducted in "an appropriate number of sequential phases" with maxi

competition characterizing the "phase-by-phase increments of project execu

and each phase allowing for "the fundamental concept of agency top manage

participation at all major decision points." 6° Fourth, the exceedingly gradua

in which the details of PPP took shape is also noteworthy. Only after more 

a year-from the appointment of the Hilburn task force-of studies and co

tations with the directors of the program offices did senior management tak

first tentative steps toward a goal that would require another three years to a

Some reasons for the delay appear in chapter 6, in which it also becomes app

that the goal of fostering maximum competition at every stage of the R&D 

was inherently unworkable. 

THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS EVALUATED 

Phased project planning was predicated on the assumption that NASA 

ployees would be responsible primarily for defining programs and prov

84 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

technical direction to agency contractors. The separation of evaluation and production was the key to the NASA acquisition process, and that process was central 

to the way NASA worked. Any assessment of the agency must therefore try to 

measure the success of the acquisition process. 

Before proceeding with this argument, however, some preliminary remarks 

are in order. First, "success" is an ambiguous term, both in NASA and DOD 

parlance. Was the Air Force's C-SA transport plane a failure because of cost 

overruns or a success because it resulted in "a substantial reduction in the cost of 

Airlift capability"? 61 In NASA, was the Syncom I communications satellite a 

success because it was placed in synchronous orbit or a failure because it returned 

no data? In such cases, even cost-effectiveness is not a reliable criterion. The C-SA 

experienced overruns of 60 percent, yet this was low compared with the 200-300 

percent overruns of earlier weapon systems uncovered by Peck and Scherer in the 

early 1960s. Moreover, "the early ballistic missile programs incurred large cost 

overruns and their initial performance was deficient. Yet, these early programs 

were not counted as failures but, rather, successes, because the goals perceived 

during the 'missile gap' era put overriding emphasis on early deployment of some 

kind of deterrent capability." 62 

Second, NASA and DOD acquisition procedures were directed to the production of very different systems. Compared with DOD, remarkably few NASA 

programs have been canceled because they were beyond the state of the art or 

because their costs clearly outweighed any possible benefits.* 63 The difference is 

not to be sought in the quality of management or the techniques used for reporting 

and control. Program evaluation and review techniques (PERT) could be used for 

weapon systems and spacecraft alike, and some of NASA's most important 

projects were managed by military detailees who were trained in PERT. The 

question, rather, is what such canceled programs as the Skybolt missile, the 

nuclear-powered airplane, the Cheyenne armed helicopter, and the B-70 supersonic bomber had in common that Apollo, the Orbiting Observatories, and Viking 

did not. The former were all planned as extensions of capabilities already existing; 

no one could build a "better" supersonic manned bomber unless there was already 

a bomber to serve as a yardstick for technological change and hence for costeffectiveness and cost-benefit studies. With Apollo and other very large NASA 

programs, there was nothing to serve as a measure of each program's relative 

success. No one had landed on the Moon before the crew of Apollo 11 did, nor had 

anyone successfully soft-landed on Mars prior to Viking. 

To put the matter differently, the question here is less one of effectiveness 

than it is of efficiency. Granted that NASA did accomplish its lunar landing 

mission within the time specified, the Apollo program cannot be compared to 

• NASA programs were canceled or delayed for ud~etary reasons, either because the Bureau of the Budget 

disallowed them, Congress would not fund them, or NASA sacrificed them on the altar of Apollo. Examples 

include Voyager, a Mars mission canceled in 1968, the Advanced Orbiting Solar Observatory, and the large solid 

motor. 

85 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

alternate approaches that were never adopted. But the acquisition process ca

evaluated in terms of what NASA management claimed on its behalf. Thus, i

role of in-house staff was to do advance planning and to provide technical d

tion, how well was this accomplished? How well did the source evaluation 

cedure·succeed in promoting the avowed aim of fostering maximum competi

What benefits resulted from the extensive use of contracts with incentive 

visions? The following sections are intended to provide tentative answers to 

questions. 

THE INTEGRITY OF THE NASA CIVIL SERVICE STAFF 

What distinguished NASA employees from contractor employees was 

complex of responsibilities subsumed under technical direction and supervi

But between the fabrication of flight hardware and the in-house capacity to 

programs was the broad grey area of contracting for nonpersonal services. S

contracts, by reason of the issues they raised, serve as a test case ·of NASA's ab

to make explicit its criteria for contracting out.64 No one expected NASA per

nel to fabricate either the Saturn launch vehicles or the Apollo spacecraft. 

clear was the course to be followed in staffing the three main tracking netwo

writing computer programs at NASA installations, and operating test facilitie

simulating the space environment. A case could be fllade for doing such w

internally or for hiring a contractor. 

Within NASA, the Bureau of the Budget, the U.S. General Accoun

Office (GAO), and interested congressional committees, there was no consens

to what "support services" were, the extent of the practice, or the guideline

contracting to the private sector. There was agreement that support services w

ancillary to the agency's functions, could be performed in-house if staff 

available, and were more temporary and intermittent than those usually 

formed by civil service employees. Beyond this1 agreement broke down 

costing formulas, the questions of whether and to what extent support se

contracts were being used to evade agency personnel ceilings, and whethe

agency was delegating functions that should be retained to exercise tech

direction. Furthermore, drawing a fine distinction between one kind of se

contract and another was difficult, if not impossible. As Finger remarked in 

gressional testimony: 

Some of these services require little contractor capital investment; others require substant

investment. Some of them require little skilled labor; others require special training a

highly specialized skills. In some cases the function is separate and distinct; in others it 

intimately related to the whole process of successful system development and flight missi

operations. In some cases it is a service to the Government organization; in others it is a dire

support of a development contractor's responsibility. Some of these functions are perform

at a Government installation; others .. . at a contractor's plant ... . In some cases there a

many customers for the services; in others the Government may be the only customer. In som

cases the operation is a continuing and stable <me; in others it is so closely related to progra

or project requirements that it requires continuing adjustment in numbers and skills of peop

assigned.65 

86 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

Finger stressed the special and urgent nature of the task that he and other officials 

were expected to manage. Given the target date for Apollo and the extraordinary 

buildup in required manpower and facilities, NASA had perforce to turn outside 

for many kinds of services. 

NASA's position was complicated by the tendency of officials to argue as if 

service contracts were only occasional departures from the general norm that 

Government provide such services in-house. Prior to 1967, NASA guidelines 

specified that the agency was to contract for support services only if the capability 

for doing the work already existed, industry itself normally contracted for similar 

work, the nature of the work made full-time employment of Government employees impracticable, or skills not readily available within the Government were 

required.'"' On the face of it, this position seemed opposed to that of the Bureau 

of the Budget, which since 1959 had asserted the general policy that Government 

should rely on private enterprise to supply its needs; ''7 but the difference was 

superficial. NASA officials argued that in a period during which the space budget 

had doubled and then tripled over what it had been in 1960, the agency had to go 

outside for certain rare and valuable skills-whether these involved performing 

analytical studies in support of the Apollo landing, operating the mission control 

center at Houston, or providing technical services at the Kennedy Space Center. 

Over and over they argued that it was impracticable to graft these skills onto a 

Government operation when abundant capacity for such work existed in the 

private sector. NASA, so their argument ran, did not contract for end products 

when it awarded a service contract; simply by virtue of being services, items such 

as those listed were purely means to obtain an end product designed by NASA 

employees. The reverse of this argument was that once the space program began 

to shrink, it might be necessary for NASA to build up in-house those skills for 

which it had contracted in the past. It may be significant that the strongest criticism of these practices-beginning with a June 1967 GAO report concerning 

service contracts at Goddard and Marshall- occurred just as NASA budgets and 

manpower were beginning to decline.''H 

In the area of launch operations, NASA deliberately assigned responsibility 

to the flight contractor from the design phase through checkout, launch, and performance in flight. Whatever the benefits of a purely abstract cost analysis, NASA 

deemed it impossible either to employ civil service personnel for the job or to 

impose a moratorium on flight operations until the contractor work force could be 

converted to civil service positions. In any case, NASA did not make the mistake 

of trying to justify its contractor policies on the basis of cost alone-a position that 

would have left the agency vulnerable indeed. One official at Goddard said that 

"cost is not the prime determinant in decisions to contract. To accept such a 

premise would have ... deleterious impact on current and future contracting 

operations of this Center and all of NASA."'''' Where even the Bureau of the 

Budget could not adduce uniform cost criteria to justify contracting out, NASA 

officials could regard their own policies as being well within Bureau standards 

that were unclear to begin with. Cost was a consideration, but not the only one. 

87 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Sometimes, as Finger explained, "there was a strong feeling that the fun

ought to be performed in-house and, therefore, even though for some function

cost differences would be within the 10 percent [stipulated by the Bureau a

differential for contracting out] or less than 10 percent, the function could st

moved in-house if it was felt that the function ought to be performed that wa

All these arguments assumed that support contracts did not impair NA

control of its own operations. Time and again, in congressional testimony a

correspondence with GAO, Finger and Webb emphasized the safeguard

maintaining the integrity of NASA program:;: the "clear separation" of Go

ment and contractor responsibilities, maximum practical competition a

qualified firms, the physical separation of Government and contractor empl

to avoid the supervision of the latter by the former, the imposition of a hard

ban on major support contractors like Bellcomm and General Electric, an

"recompeting" of support contracts-seeking new competitive bids inste

automatic extensions-so that industrial firms could never become 

comp 1 a1sant. ° 7 1 

But how effective, really, were these safeguards? The issue was not wh

this or that center might hire firms to remove the garbage, mow the lawn

provide guard service, even if Government unions were inclined to argue t

multiplicity of such contracts might subtly erode NASA's ability to distance 

from its contractors. The real test cases were those contracts for engine

support services that seemed directly to threaten NASA's ability to contro

monitor its own programs. To examine the issues at stake, three such con

will be described: the Bellcomm, General Electric (GE), and Boeing Tech

Integration and Evaluation (TIE) contracts.* Other than their large size, 

contracts had little in common with other support contracts or even with 

other. The Bellcomm and GE contracts were negotiated early in the A

program to anticipate or forestall problems; the TIE contract was let i

aftermath of the Apollo 204 fire. Bellcomm was a profit-making subsidia

American Telephone and Telegraph that worked solely for NASA, while th

and Boeing contracts were carried out by existing divisions within the p

companies. Bellcomm went out of business in May 1972 when its last con

extension expired; the Boeing TIE contract was phased out in 1970.72 In the 

year, NASA gave each OMSF center the option of extending its portion of th

contract separately. Yet each contract met one of the criteria of a support con

in that the work "could have been done by our hardware prime contracto

in-house if sufficient ... capacity were available." 71 The questions are, wh

NASA decide to contract in these cases, and how did each decision affect th

of in-house staff. 

• From March 1962 to its termination in May 1972, the Bellcomm contract (NASW- 41 7) and its ext

cost NASA about $91 million. At the end of FY 1968, the GE (NASW- 410) and TIE (NASW- 1650) co

had run to $670 million and $52 million respectively. 

88 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

Bellcomm was established in March 1962 at NASA's request to do analytical 

studies in support of the Apollo landing. Unlike the GE and Boeing contracts, it 

was strictly a Washington, D.C., operation on behalf of OMSF. Bellcomm manufactured nothing. Among the specified tasks were preparing specifications for the 

Apollo Program Office, indicating Apollo requirements for data from Surveyor 

and Lunar Orbiter, evaluating proposed manned spaceflight experiments, and 

defining scientific objectives for lunar missions after the first landing.74 

As an Apollo Program Office report stated, the situation was unusual "because NASA was attempting to use a contractor organization as its line engineering directorate." 75 The justification for creating Bellcomm proceeded at several 

levels: the oft-repeated "unique capability" argument,* NASA's general practice 

of contracting to private industry, and the impossibility of NASA's assembling 

civil service manpower in a brief period, only to disperse it within six to eight 

years. Moreover, Apollo differed radically from the Mercury and Gemini programs that preceded it. The earlier programs used the Atlas and Titan launch 

vehicles developed by the Air Force, with essentially only one center (the Manned 

Spacecraft Center and the Space Task Group that was its nucleus) involved. 

Apollo, however, involved all three OMSF centers and required totally new 

launch vehicles, a new spacecraft, and new ground test and launch facilities-all 

of which had to be integrated into a functional system reliable enough for manned 

flight. "Management of the program require[ d) a strong program office at Headquarters with a strong systems engineering capability not then in existence." 76 

This was NASA's principal justification for turning to the Bell System; indeed, it 

was argued that the creation of Bellcomm would also enable NASA to tap the 

capabilities of Bell Laboratories and Western Electric. 

Although linked with Bellcomm in congressional testimony, the GE contract 

was otherwise distinct. 77 Bellcomm was involved in systems engineering; GE, in 

"the implementation of standards to assure proper integration, reliability, and 

checkout of hardware" at Houston, Marshall, and the Cape. 78 GE would eventually design and manage fourteen sets of Apollo Spacecraft Automatic Checkout 

Equipment rather than the three originally specified, support the investigation of 

the Apollo 204 fire, and operate the Mississippi Test Facility for Marshall. As 

with Bellcomm, NASA wrote a hardware ban into the GE contract, forbidding the 

company to participate as a prime contractor or first-tier subcontractor for Apollo 

launch vehicle or spacecraft stages or as a supplier of nonstandard components for 

launch vehicles or spacecraft, save at the discretion of the Administrator or Deputy 

Administrator. However, this restriction did not prevent GE from manufacturing 

much of its own checkout equipment, did not apply to existing contracts, and did 

not barGE from bidding on "standard" items in managing the Mississippi Test 

Facility. 79 

* However, in a personal communication to the author, Dr. Seamans has noted that "we originally planned 

to carry this effort out primarily within NASA as part of the Apollo office. When we had difficulty recruiting 

the caliber of people we wanted and obtaining sufficient manpower slots from the Office of Management and 

Budget (sic), we went to AT&T and asked them to set up a dedicated organization, which became Bellcomm." 

89 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Each of these contracts involved some kind of "service." Systems engine

requires that the environment within which systems operate be known, tha

objectives for which the systems are designed be understood, and that the reso

available for the system be adequate to meet its goals. Integration, on the 

hand, means fitting things together, whether components into a subsystem

systems into systems, and the system-for example, the first stage of a la

vehicle-into the total launch vehicle. 

But "integration" and "evaluation" are not synonymous. 

Technical integration is the act of making two or more elements, such as a launch vehicle 

a spacecraft, fit a

elements for whi

different organiz

Technical evalua

hardware capabi

role in the perfo

nd work together .... Technical integration must be performed between 

ch an organization is responsible, as well as the major elements betw

ations. 

tion consists of examining the mission requirements specifications and 

lities ... to determine that the hardware will work ... to accomplish 

rmance of the pre-established mission.

80 

Boeing, which already had the contract for the first stage of Saturn V as w

for integrating all three stages of the booster, was now being asked (accord

Webb) to certify that "the whole unit, vehicle and payload, does function tog

is compatible, and is ready for flight." 81 Boeing was called in because ther

no time to build an in-house capability; in any case, the company's role 

"advisory." NASA's original intention-to award the contract to North Ame

Aviation-was dropped after the Apollo fire. Boeing was chosen althoug

contract, first announced by Webb in congressional testimony on 9 May 1967

not made definitive until 30 May 1968. NASA settled on Boeing because 

company's experience in the Saturn and Minuteman programs, its mana~e

of Lunar Orbiter, and the management abilities of senior Boeing officials. 2 

important, although unmentioned, was the familiarity of OMSF staff, seve

whom had worked for Boeing, with the company's mode of operations.

83 

Bellcomm and TIE were tli.e "upstream" and "downstream" sides of A

systems engineering. Put simply, Bellcomni mapped the requirements for 

missions; Boeing implemented the requirements in many ways-by evaluatin

adequacy of hardware, analyzing proposed changes in flight equipment

preparing backup material for the flight readiness reviews held a month pr

each Apollo launch. The TIE contract was as significant for what it forba

for what it sanctioned. Boeing personnel would not supervise other NAS

contractor personnel and would only perform work that was not being handl

a specific Apollo prime contractor. Again and again, NASA management in

that the TIE organization was to "assist," "advise," "recommend," and "sup

Apollo.

84 Like those with Bellcomm and GE, the Boeing contract was establ

in response to a program whose complexity and urgency precluded a gr

buildup of the needed skills. 

Now to return to the earlier question, to what extent did the three contr

organizations assume functions that NASA should not have delegated? 

question is distinct from inquiring into the contractors' effectiveness. In fact

90 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

made substantial contributions to Apollo. When Finger visited Houston in August 

1968, Manned Spacecraft Center Director Robert Gilruth told him that "the best 

return MSC could get from the [TIE] contract was additional engineering support l 

which was sorely needed in many areas of the Apollo program .. . spacecraft 

sneak circuit analyses* were a major Boeing contribution. It was felt all along that 

these analyses should be made, but personnel had not been available to do so . ,x, 

Another example of work done under the TIE contract was the analysis of the 

"pogo" problem, the oscillations of Saturn V after lift-off, and its effect on the 

Apollo spacecraft. Similarly, Bellcomm's work in systems engineering was more 

than satisfactory, judging by the extensions of the original contract.x1

• 

These contracts violated neither Government policy nor the spirit of the Bell 

report, but they tended to compound the confusion between public and private 

sectors that the Bell task force had tried to dispel. NASA managers could respond, 

with considerable justice, that their policy of using support contracts was fully 

disclosed, that the agency had no alternative to contracting out most of its development work to industry, and that the final word in policy matters remained with 

civil service employees. · 

One can also acquit NASA of the charge that, by allowing contractors such 

as Bellcomm to define problems, the contractors set the terms on which decisions 

were made. The charge made by one critic of NASA, that Bellcomm in effect 

provided the rationale for the decision to make lunar orbit rendezvous the Apollo 

mission mode, does not bear close analysis.x7 A significant portion of the NASA 

community, including the entire Space Task Group, had come to favor lunar orbit 

rendezvous by the end of 1961, .almost three months before the Bellcomm contract 

was let.xx Also, the decision of the Manned Space Flight Management Council in 

June 1962 to adopt lunar orbit rendezvous was heavily influenced by nontechnical 

influences-for example, the desire for unanimity and the consensus that the 

Saturn vehicle should be used-that were peripheral to Bellcomm's assignment. 

The problems generated by these contracts were more subtle. In all three 

cases, there was a tendency for support contractors to continue working for NASA 

after their original reason for being had ended. Bellcomm, which had been set up 

to do systems engineering for Apollo, went on to do studies for Apollo Applications 

and the space shuttle, and in 1968-1969 evolved into an in-house entity like the 

RAND Corporation for OMSF; it had the manpower and the budget to prepare 

a post-Apollo plan for NASA and to participate intensively in the planning review 

sessions held throughout 1969.x'> Moreover, the very functions of evaluation and 

review for which Bellcomm was created and TIE was negotiated were those for 

which, it could be argued, an in-house force was needed. Support contractors were 

used for three reasons: direct support, "added assurance that all possible problems 

have been identified and solved," and to provide checks and balances, that is, to 

check on the centers before the commitment to fabricate was made?' These 

• Sneak circuits are inadvertent electrical paths. 

91 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

reasons, particularly the latter two, might seem to apply with greater forc

headquarters, both to top management and the program offices. 

In addition, hiring contractors to do what might have been done in-house 

J 

welcomed neither by other prime contractors nor by the centers. According to 

official history of Apollo, the GE contract "was seen in some circles as a m

of GE telling government officials how to do their jobs." And one GE off

conceded that at Houston "they didn't want us. There were two things again

down there . .. it was a Headquarters contract, and it was decreed that 

centers shall use GE for certain things; and ... they considered us Headquar

spies." 91 

The most serious charge against support contracts was that they ca

NASA to depend on industry for what could have been done by agency employ

When Mueller wrote to his center directors at the end of 1968 to ask their opi

on phasing out engineering support contracts, the three directors were unanim

Gilruth put the matter with special force: 

We have agreed with the "surge tank" philosophy and have recognized that an adequa

in-house manning of Civil Service personnel was out of the question. However, we think th

this in-house capability should have been greater and have, from time to time, requested 

larger in-house manning. We agree that the most effective management of future program

calls for greater in-house engineering capability. We have been very weak in systems eng

neering, analysis, and trajectory work. We have developed practically no engineering com

petence in the field of Reliability and Quality Assurance. We have probably been to

dependent on Philco, IBM, and TRW in operation of the Mission Control Center and 

operations generally .. .. 

We are studying intensely what we can do to reduce our dependence on engineering suppo

contractors. . . . We are sure that it will not be practical to eliminate outside engineerin

support for several years. However, we do plan stronger program level systems groups an

well defined tasks for the outside engineering support.92 

By 1969 NASA was faced with declining personnel ceilings. Thus the attem

strengthen the in-house staff meant, paradoxically, that service contractors w

remain indispensable for several more years (table 4-4). 

The case for service contracts rested on one powerful argument that 

never adequately refuted: An agency with such urgent and unique assignm

could not have done the job with its in-house staff alone. That case was not alw

well-presented, as indicated by continued skirmishing between NASA and 

House Government Operations Committee as to whether TIE was or was n

support contract, whether the Boeing personnel ceiling at headquarters was 7

300 persons, whether these figures were for "direct" or "indirect" personnel, 

whether or not Boeing was being paid twice for its work on Apollo.9 ) Even t

like Gilruth who thought that support contracting had gone entirely too 

conceded that Apollo had made such contracts unavoidable. Nor need one 

clude that NASA abdicated its responsibility to manage. In the Apollo prog

NASA possessed a far greater depth of experience and talent than the Air Fo

Western Development Division or the Special Projects Office that developed 

Navy's Polaris.'J4 NASA acted to control its programs in the following ways

92 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

Table 4-4. - Nonpersonal service contracts: Number of Government 

and contract personnel, 30 June 1962-31 May 1968. 

Date Government Contractor 

30 June 1962 23 511 3 525 

30 June 1963 29 488 6 758 

30 June 1964 31 957 10 200 

30 June 1965 34 049 Not Available 

30 June 1966 35 708 26 962 

30 June 1967 35 860 29 267 

1 Nov. 1967 34 281 33 768 

31 May 1968 33 202 31 511 

Sources: 1964 and 1966 program reviews, Procurement Programs (27 Oct. 1964, fig. 26; 31 Oct. 1966, fig. 48); 

and hearing of House Science and Astronautics Committee, Subcommittee on NASA Oversight, 90th Cong., 

2d sess. (11 July 1968), p. 9. 

1. By determining the conditions under which contracting would be necessary. 

2. By anticipating problems before the contractor did, who would then do 

whatever detailed engineering was necessary. 

3. By conducting enough of the effort internally to acquire the expertise to 

judge and evaluate contract performance and, if required, to provide support 

or actually take over contractor work in order to complete the program. 

4. By terminating or phasing out the contract, although this was as much a 

managerial as a technical decision .. 

In sum, several of the most controversial NASA contracts were for work that 

might have been performed in-house, but the contractor's involvement gave assurance that everything had been double _!lnd triple checked. Faced with ambiguous 

guidelines, NASA officials believed that resort to the private sector was inevitable 

and that the question of whether a task was covered in-house or by contract was 

less important than the knowledge that the capability would be there when 

needed. 

SELECTION CRITERIA AND THEIR EFFECTIVENESS I 

Before turning to NASA's source selection procedure, something must be 

added about the agency's policy of fostering maximum competition in the selection 

of contractors. This must be understood in a highly qualified sense. For NASA, 

competition was strictly a means to an end. The nature of the products for which 

NASA sought suppliers precluded competition in the classical sense for several 

93 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

reasons: Only a small number of firms were able to compete for major R

contracts because of the prohibitive cost of entry; the firms were concentrat

certain geographic areas; and, most of all, unique uncertainties are inherent i

development of sophisticated space and weapon systems. As Peck and Sc

observed in their study of the weapons acquisition process, in soliciting for R

work "the seller does not offer a finished product which the buyer can e

accept or reject. Rather, the government pays development costs before it k

what the ultimate performance of the product or its desirability relative to o

products will be."'" Two additional considerations that affected the NASA ac

sition process were the absence of follow-on production and the uncertainti

the future of the space program in 1960-1961 and again in 196 7, when fun

for most NASA programs, especially the newer·ones, had begun to decline

Thus NASA had to take its suppliers where it could find them. De

pressure from regional associations and from Congress-year after year, N

authorization acts included a clause urging NASA to distribute research fund

a wider geographical basis-NASA placed most of its prime contracts in 

areas where the capability already existed. The NASA position, as stated by W

and Hilburn, was that 

to base the award of contracts on geographical considerations, rather than on competition 

all companies regardless of location, would be inconsistent with the statutory, procurem

authority currently applicable to NASA. Moreover, limiting competition to geographi

areas might mean that the company with the best capability for a project of importance wou

not be awarded a contract because of its location.

96 

In fact, NASA prime contracts were concentrated in a few regions. Between 

years 1962 and 1969, 60 percent of NASA R&D dollars were placed in only 

States: California (42.7 percent), New York (10.2 percent), and Loui

(7.2 percent).'n However, the sheer scope of NASA contracting activity led 

substantial dispersal of funds, principally because 40-50 percent of NASA 

curement dollars for major R&D contracts were subcontracted. For exampl

FY 1969 subcontracts on fifty-eight major prime contracts amounted to 

million. Of this amount, only $120 million (29 percent) remained with the S

to which the prime contracts were awarded, while the remainder was red

buted elsewhere. A further breakdown illustrates how extensive this r

tribution really was. Twelve States received more in subcontracts than they d

prime contracts, while seventeen of eighteen States with NASA prime cont

transferred some work to other States. Indeed, many subcontracts were awa

to companies that were probably incapable of becoming prime contractors th

selves. Thus, while the dispersal of contract dollars was incidental to its mis

NASA did encourage its prime contractors to award subcontracts on a b

geographical basis. 

Analysis of the source selection procedure is in terms of the following q

tions. First, what did NASA mean by "competition," and what was the ac

degree of competition in bidding on NASA prime contracts? Second, how m

94 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

weight did officials attach to the various criteria for source selection? Third, how 

efficient was the selection process itself? Finally, how did NASA management 

regard the procedure; in particular, how far did they believe it was necessary to 

revise, overhaul, or do away with it entirely? For NASA, competition was between 

firms rather than between regions, and its function was to provide the agency with 

a service, component, or major system. It was in NASA's interest to promote competition because the more competition there was, the less NASA would have to 

depend on any single contractor; the more entries there were into the aerospace 

industry, the more likely the industry was to generate technical and managerial 

innovations; and by spreading NASA funds as widely as possible-as far as this 

was compatible with its mission-the agency would secure a nationwide base of 

support for its programs. The extent of competition in NASA procurements is 

shown in table 4-5. 

The entire purpose of NASA's selection process was to procure the best 

source, one that would be compatible with the agency's budget, the armed services 

procurement regulations, and external forces that impinged on the agency's selection procedures, such as Congress, industry associations, the Executive Office, the 

President's Committee on Equal Employment Opportunity, the Small Business 

Administration, and the like. The criteria NASA used to evaluate potential 

sources varied depending on the size and complexity of the system to be developed, 

the point in NASA's history when it issued requests for proposals, and the 

agency's desire to build a capability rather than to see it concentrated in one or two 

firms. At the risk of oversimplification, it can be said that NASA officials weighted 

selection criteria according to the context. One consideration in many early procurements was the need to attract competition in a specific area. This was the 

justification given by NASA for awarding the contract for the S-11 stage of Saturn 

to North American Aviation rather than to Douglas, which already had the 

contract to design and build the S-IV stage.98 By placing the S-11 contract with 

North American, NASA would have available three firms- North American, 

Douglas, and the Convair division of General Dynamics-capable of advancing 

the state of the art in liquid-hydrogen technology. 

The data reveal that NASA chose competitively more frequently in the late 

1950s and early 1960s than it was to do later. Between 1958 and 1960NASA held 

source selection competitions for eighteen of twenty-one major programs, including Rover, Ranger, Surveyor, Mercury, Nimbus, and the Orbiting Astronomical 

Observatory.

99 But during the period 1958-1965, in sixteen of seventy-six cases 

involving contracts of $5 million and over, a source evaluation board was not 

convened, either because there was only one firm with the requisite capability or 

because the action was a follow-on to an existing contract (tabl~ 4-6). Indeed, by 

the end of 1965, non-SEB actions constituted almost one-third of all contracts for 

$5 million and over. 100 It may be that there were fewer new programs on which 

to bid or that the high cost of entry served to discourage prospective contractors. 

It also seems likely that there was less competition in the mid-1970s than 

there had been a decade earlier for at least three reasons. First, while it was 

95 
~ ;J;> 

z 

;J;> 

(l 

z 

(l 

z 

;J;> 

rJJ 

;J;> 

z 

>-l 

:X: 

tr1 

;J;> 

'"tl 

0 

t"' 

t"' 

0 

tr1 

"' ;J;> 

Table 4-5. - Competition in NASA awards to business firms, FY 1961-1968. 

Award 1961 1962 1963 1964 1965 1966 1967 1968 

Total (in billions) 10.423 11.030 12.261 13.521 14. 141 14.088 13.864 13.447 

Competitive-Total 0.276 0.565 1.302 2.119 2.630 2.693 2.698 2.308 

Advertised O.D38 0.064 0.106 0.134 0.169 0.111 0.081 0.057 

Negotiated 0.238 0.501 1.195 1.985 2.461 2.582 2.617 2.251 

Noncompetitive-Total 0.146 0.464 0.959 1.401 1.511 1.395 1.166 1.139 

Follow-on after competition (I) (I) 0.255 2 0.495 2 0.504 0.373 0.347 0.336 

Other noncompetitive 0.146 0.464 0.704 0.906 1.007 1.022 0.819 0.803 

1 Data not compiled, included in other noncompetitive. 2 Follow-on after competitive procurements of less than $25 000 are included in other noncompetitive procurements. 

Sources: NASA Procurement Reports for 1964, p. 4- 2, and for 1968, p. 14. 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

Table 4-6. - Breakdown of SEB and non-SEB cases, 1958-1965. 

Time Period SEB Non-SEB Percentage Total 

12/ 58-2/ 61 10 I 9 11 

3/ 61-2/ 62 10 2 17 12 

3/ 62-3/ 64 19 3 14 22 

4/ 64-12/ 65 21 10 32 31 

Source: Joseph Fernandez, "The Origin, Evolution, and Operation of the NASA Contractor Source Evaluation 

Board Process," unpublished M.Sc. thesis (Massachusetts Institute of Technology, June 1966), p. 23. 

expensive to enter the space business, it was even more costly to stay in. Thus 

Grumman, which was NASA's number two prime contractor during the late 

1960s, virtually withdrew from space systems after completing its work on the 

Orbiting Astronomical Observatory and the lunar module, both of which were 

plagued with overruns and technical difficulties. Second, if a company supplied a 

recurring service or standardized items such as the stages of a launch vehicle, then 

it was generally more expensive for NASA to go to an alternate source. This, as 

indicated above, was the justification given by NASA for negotiating only with 

McDonnell-Douglas for ten improved Delta vehicles, but the same rationale 

applied to the Centaur stages supplied by General Dynamics or the GE Apollo 

engineering support contract, which Houston extended to cover the Skylab and 

Apollo-Soyuz missions. Third, the structure of the aerospace industry changed in 

the 1960s in ways that tended to reduce competition further. McDonnell Aircraft 

and Douglas Aircraft, two of NASA's biggest contractors, merged in 1967. Similarly, companies like TRW or North American Aviation, which merged with 

Rockwell-Standard in 1967, were able to remain and thrive in the space business 

because they were large and diversified corporations that were not overly dependent on NASA contracts. Under these conditions, newer and smaller firms 

could enter the space industry only (if at all) as subcontractors-a situation not 

without danger for NASA's bargaining position. 

On the whole, NASA did not give preponderant weight to any single criterion 

in the selection process. Cost estimates, for example, were apt to mislead either 

because of underbidding by the contractor or because neither side had realistically 

appraised the costs involved. Nor was straight technical competence sufficient by 

itself. In the mid-1960s many top officials concluded that a company could not 

take on a complex, difficult program without at least demonstrating by past 

performance that its organization had adequate managerial skills to get the work 

done. The cost overruns and slippages that plagued so many projects in 

1962-1964-the Centaur launch vehicle (whose prime contractor was General 

Dynamics), the RL-10 engine (Pratt and Whitney), Gemini (McDonnell), and 

97 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

the S-IV and S-IVB stages of Saturn (Douglas)-were problems of manag

as much as technical competence. And it was largely as a byproduct of man

ment failures that NASA, in 1964-1965, moved to the principle that 

greater emphasis should be placed on company management flexibility and its ability 

marshall the management plus technical competence necessary to perform the contract rath

than accept a simple technical proposal and evaluate it on technical merits with only secon

ary evaluation of the organizational factors involved in getting the job done. 101 

All things being equal-which they seldom were-NASA officials would gi

much weight to business as to technical criteria: availability of manpower 

facilities, preparation of a detailed management plan, understanding of the pr

management approach, and understanding of the form of the contract that N

desired to write.

102 

A proposal that was both technically and managerially sound and 

widened the scope of competition stood a better chance of being accepted than 

whose only virtue was a low bid. Douglas, for example, won the S-IV con

although its proposal was $5.44 million higher than Convair's. In this ca

least, Douglas won because of Glennan's desire to promote "at least lim

competition as we start off this new technology . .. [otherwise] it might we

the case that subse3uent competitions for the other stages of Saturn would be

quite one-sided. " 10 The history of the Lunar Orbiter contract is a more stra

forward case of a contract awarded for managerial as well as technical cri

. Boeing, which received the contract, submitted the highest bid of all five propo

Aside from the considerable technical merits of its proposal, Boeing impresse

selecting officials because of (1) its past experience with Minuteman, the B

and Bomarc, and its willingness to use developed components; (2) its abili

assemble a strong project management team, owing, in part, to the phasing o

termination of the Bomarc and Dyna-Soar programs; (3) Boeing's link 

Eastman-Kodak and RCA as subcontractors; and ( 4) the desire of NASA man

ment to encourage Boeing's entry into the design of spacecraft systems. In 

cases, what counted in the final evaluation was less the offeror's actual exper

in NASA programs than the potential revealed by its handling of other kin

. k maJor systems wor . 104 

As selection procedures became more elaborate, they tended to slow dow

entire acquisition process. The matter was thought serious enough to prom

"procurement lead-time" study in 1968-1969, whose principal finding wa

existence of major delays in contracts processing. It took an average of 420 

to process a contract involving a procurement plan, 3 months for headquart

review the plan, and 4 7 days for headquarters to approve a negotiated contra

It may be that all this merely signified the advent of bureaucracy and red tap

it may have reflected the learning process NASA had undergone durin

preceding decade in negotiating with its prime contractors. Or, finally, 

seemed to be a delay in the acquisition process may have really masked dela

the decision to fund new programs. As Finger observed, NASA had gone fro

98 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

large, fast-moving program aimed at a clearly identified national objective to a 

situation in which reductions have been made in our program budget and, therefore, to a requirement for a very detailed examination of every element of our 

program before final approval is given to proceed. There is no question . .. that 

the uncertainty of the AAP [Apollo Applications) program scope and schedule and 

the delay in making firm AAP program decisions were reflected in long procurement lead times." 10'' In addition, the NASA budget was tied to the planningprogramming-budgeting cycle introduced by McNamara at DOD in 1961 and 

imposed on many civilian agencies in 1965. One effect of the new system was that 

it required that NASA submit its projected cost estimates to Congress earlier than 

good estimates could be produced. By 1969 NASA was some six years beyond the 

time when Congress had, so to speak, agreed to hand the agency a blank check. 

The uncertainty as to the future of NASA programs, the parceling of the NASA 

budget for review by many congressional committees, and the elaborate reporting 

requirements engendered by planning-programming-budgeting meant that 

NASA could not let contracts on the assumption that a program funded for one 

year would automatically be funded thereafter. Program planning and the acquisition cycle were inextricably linked. As one changed, so did the other. 

But there was another, more technical, reason for the protraction of the 

acquisition process. As a large research and development organization, NASA had 

good reasons to make its regulations as specific and as uniform as possible. 

Kaufman's observation concerning organizational change applies here. 

The more experience an organization acquires, the more numerous it discovers the complexities and the ambiguities of its work to be, and the more its leaders feel obliged to clarify 

policies and refine procedures .. . . In quest of the best and most up-to-date technical performance, organizations in this way generate still more sets of specifications governing the 

actions of their members. 107 

By about 1966 the procurement cycle showed signs of becoming a lengthy procedure, owing to requirements imposed on NASA from within the agency and by 

other Federal agencies. NASA procurement regulations stipulated that all contracts negotiated by the centers above a specified dollar value (as well as contracts 

for individual facilities) had to be reviewed and approved by headquarters. Contractors were encouraged (or required) to submit cost reduction plans, identify 

new technology, and comply with the Government's equal employment opportunity (EEO) program. Requirements imposed on NASA from outside multiplied 

throughout the 1960s. NASA was designated a "predominant interest agency" for 

investigating EEO complaints against more than 200 prime contractors and 

subcontractors at some 450 facilities. 1"x The agency was also assigned full responsibility for setting aside (i.e., reserving) competitions for small business, 

rather than determining them jointly with the Small Business Administration. In 

fact, there was a substantial area of public policy that NASA, along with all other 

Federal agencies, was required to implement through the procurement process: 

the Buy American Act, the Fair Labor Standards Act, the Work Hours Standard 

99 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Act of 1962, the Copeland Anti-Kickback Act, the rulings of the U.S. Comptr

General, the National Environmental Policy Act of 1969, and the like. 

lengthening of the procurement cycle was the sum total of forces at work not 

within NASA but throughout the Federal community. There was the p

eration of forms and review procedures that are one sign of Parkinson's la

work. More significantly, perhaps, the cycle lengthened because, in the cour

planning programs, NASA program managers had come to understand the a

sition process better and to know what to expect of their contractors. 

At the end of the 1960s NASA management looked at its selection pr

and found it to be good despite complaints that procurement lead time wa

great; that losers in competition did not know why they had lost or winners 

they had won: that requests for proposals were poorly drawn, in part because 

were prepared by different people; "so that the need for all the material is se

evident to one person"; and that a severe case of "echelonitis" existed betwee

program offices and senior management. 10 1 ' These were defects in a system 

most of NASA considered to be basically sound. NASA officials dismissed o

hand the fundamental criticism of the process-that it was essentially 

competitive. This thesis, forcefully stated by Prof. Edward B. Roberts o

Massachusetts Institute of Technology, was that the process underlying R

awards was "informal and highly selective" and that the formal acquis

process succeeded only "in increasing the costs of research and developm

adding time delays, and producing other damaging effects on governm

sponsored research and development." 110 Part of this critique was only a 

forceful restatement of what NASA procurement officers were saying priva

But they were not prepared to go the whole route and concede with Roberts 

many large R&D contracts were in effect preselected and that the weigh

given to proposals only amounted to "after-the-fact representations of ge

agreements . . . justifications for decisions, rather than causes." 111 

NASA's position may be summarized as follows. The NASA task force 

studied the NASA acquisition process in 1970-1971 concluded that it "suffici

met NASA's needs and objectives." 11 2 The task force preferred to judge by re

NASA had tapped-to a degree had created-an industrial capacity adequa

carry out its programs. It had created safeguards, such as the recompetiti

support contracts and phased project planning, to prevent the agency from 

coming captive to its contractors. NASA would concede the delays, the v

criteria, the unnecessary review levels, and the tendency to use technical cr

when the contractor as a whole was to be judged. But to abandon formal s

solicitation would have been politically undesirable, not calculated to promot

agency's goals, and more likely to leave particular firms in sole-source posi

for given areas than would otherwise be the case. 

USE OF INCENTIVE PROVISIONS 

NASA introduced incentive provisions into its procurement system whe

entire subject of R&D contracting was under review by Congress and the Bu

100 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

of the Budget. The time was ripe, judging from the circumstances that led to the 

introduction of incentives: the notorious inefficiencies of CPFF contracts, with cost 

prediction errors sometimes mounting to more than 200 percent; the recommendations of the Bell report; the March 1962 revisions of the armed services procurement regulations that authorized DOD to make more use of incentives; the 

pressures within NASA to use incentives, especially in the development phases of 

large systems contracts; and a series of meetings in December 1961 involving 

Webb, the chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission, and contractor representatives, in which they discussed the rationale for the cost-plus-award-fee (CPAF) 

concept. Once the decision was made to write incentive provisions for new contracts and to convert older ones from CPFF, NASA moved quickly. NASA issued 

one incentive contract in FY 1961, six in 1962, ten in 1963, and thirty-four in 

1964. By the beginni~~ of FY 19?7 NASA was managing .some 200 incentive 

contracts (figure 4-1). · The selectiOn of contracts for conversiOn was made by top 

management, the program offices, and the staff offices, especially the Office of 

Procurement. However, the criteria for applying incentive arrangements in each 

situation had to be developed within the centers. 

The basic criterion in applying incentives was to not use them before both 

sides had arrived at a clear definition of requirements. In other words, project 

definition and contract negotiation went hand in hand. As a corollary, most of the 

centers, when questioned by headquarters procurement officials in 1964, recommended that NASA use a phased approach to R&D contracts. Even before the 

introduction of phased project planning, center officials had instituted a phased 

contracting cycle. They began with a CPFF contract for research and initial 

development, converted to cost-plus-incentive-fee as requirements became firmer, 

and to fixed-price-incentive as cost prediction became more accurate. It was 

essential, however, that both NASA and its contractors understand how incentives 

worked. Or, what amounted to the same thing, "you've got to negotiate the 

contract all the way through or you're hung." 11 4 It was the lack of experience in 

handling incentives that led to most of the problems, such as placing incentives on 

final mission performance without including incentives for important technical 

subgoals. 

Granted that early definition was imperative, what improvements did NASA 

program managers have in mind? Consider, for example, the Office of Manned 

Space Flight (OMSF), which was spending more than two-thirds of NASA funds 

obligated for R&D. Meeting in executive session, the OMSF Management Council resolved to give primary emphasis to schedule, then to cost, and third, to 

performance.11; In the opinion of Council members, emphasis on schedule was the 

best or even the only way to force both parties to define the end product because 

there would be "a premium on getting the specifications correctly written in the 

first place, because the Government personnel realize that the contractor is going 

to insist that they accept the hardware based on these specifications in order to 

earn the schedule incentive fee. " 1 11

' For OMSF, there was good reason to stress 

schedule over costs. Schedule and cost control were very closely related; Mueller 

101 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

NUMBER OF 

CONTRACTS 

10 

-FP11 

t::::j CPIF2 

c:::J CPAF3 

I'22:J CPIF-AF4 

1961 1962 

TOTAL NUMBER 

APPROXIMATELY 200 

1963 1964 

FISCAL YEARS 

64 

1965 

1$4,276 Ml 

~95 

!! 1$447 

!!51/ 

l$

15

1966 

1 Fixed-price incentive 

2Cost-plus-incentive-fee 

3Cost-plus-award-fee 

4Cost-plus-incentive-fee/award-fee 

Source: Procurement Program (31 Oct. 1966). p. 17. 

Figure 4-1. - Number of incentive contracts under administration by ty

contract, FY 1961-1966. 

believed that the only way to keep costs down was to keep on schedule. Th

of schedule incentives worked better than any other means to create "h

communications between the project manager and the hardware producer, 

the contractor to deliver its hardware in order that NASA might conduct 

ground testing, and to give OMSF added insurance against unforeseen diffic

Not that schedule and performance were identical; as one program manage

it, "There's no point in delivering a product that's unsatisfactory on time." 

improve performance NASA and the contractor had to define the discrete 

or work packages, into which the work was divided; without such defi

neither side could communicate with the other. 

102 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

Almost as soon as NASA introduced incentives, it began to study their 

effectiveness. Just before the Hilburn task force submitted its reports on schedule 

slippages, the Office of Procurement asked the centers to report on their experience with incentives and subsequently contracted with the management consulting 

firm of Booz, Allen and Hamilton to study the effectiveness of NASA incentive 

contracts. The final report was submitted in August 1966, and it furnished a 

detailed balance sheet of the benefits and disadvantages of incentives. 11 H It did not, 

perhaps, provide conclusive evidence on their long-term results. But it was based 

on a study of fifteen contracts that totaled $1.5 billion, or 62 percent by dollar 

value of NASA incentive contracts at the time the study began in July 1965.11'J 

The task force discovered that, properly applied, incentives were more 

effective than CPFF in improving delivery on schedule and performance according to specifications. Incentives did not cost more to administer than CPFF and 

reduced the need for day-to-day surveillance of contractor operations. Finally, 

incentives led to better program definition, although more as a byproduct than as 

a stated objective. 0 On the other hand, there was little apparent relation between 

the intensity of contractor motivation and the use of incentives. Typically, the 

contractor was under pressure to secure new business or follow-on work or, in the 

case of the Manned Space Flight programs, to perform well in the face of the 

publicity that these programs, above all others, engendered. 

The task force also concluded that in at least four cases incentives were 

introduced under pressure from headquarters and that in three cas~s incentives 

were used to control cost growth. The center personnel had not been enthusiastic 

about incentives. They believed incentives required more controls, not less, and 

lengthened, rather than shortened, the overall procurement cycle. Incentives 

placed a heavier administrative burden oil the technical staff. And by increasing 

the element of risk, incentives prompted the contractor to ask for higher fees-say, 

8 percent rather than 7 percent. Only recognition that incentives had improved 

contractor performance in a number of cases caused center employees to change 

their minds. Also, by the end of FY 1964 almost 700 center personnel had received 

some training in the management of incentives. By then-and certainly by the 

conclusion of the Booz, Allen and Hamilton study-NASA procurement policy 

had moved beyond the experimental stage. By 1966 NASA was able to define with 

some precision four "desired conditions" to be considered in ciesigning incentive 

contracts: the procurement should require no significant technological breakthroughs; there should be no overriding need for intensive technical direction 

during the life of the contract; it should be possible to estimate the cost of getting 

the job done; and, within constraints, the contractor should be given almost 

complete freedom to perform.* 121 Moreover, NASA had at its disposal a variety 

*One former NASA official gave an example of the sort of freedom that NASA gave to its prime contractors. 

One year NASA found that Boeing needed $10 million for Lunar Orbiter that was not programmed in the 

budget. To keep from breaking the contract and, more importantly, from upsetting Boeing's management plans, 

NASA reprogrammed the $10 million from other projects. 

103 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

of techniques that ranged from incentives directed to a single variable 

schedule, performance), to multiple incentives, to contracts employing int

pendency, that is, "the amount of penalty or reward ... under any one ince

element in a multiple-incentive contract will vary according to the achieve

under the other incentive elements." 122 

And yet, while NASA had learned much in handling incentives, it ha

reaped the full benefit of their use. NASA employees continued to monitor 

tracts even when incentives made such surveillance unnecessary. Also, 

NASA had improved its method for processing contract changes, it had not 

enough to reduce the number of changes. The Booz, Allen and Hamilton 

concluded that the benefits of incentives were not yet well understood w

NASA. Incentives were used, so to speak, to communicate NASA objective

not to convey the relative importance of cost, performance, and schedule. O

other hand, the task force members were well aware that the structure of N

contracts could go only so far to eliminate bottlenecks. As they put it, "ce

objectives . . . appear to be largely beyond the control or 'influence' of the co

structure," especially cost growth. 1 1 Incentives might reduce but they cou

eliminate the technical uncertainties dogging most R&D programs. Nor w

sort of technical definition required by incentives already in use available w

was needed most-at the beginning of the program. A contract designed to 

everything from early development phases to small-quantity production wa

flexible enough for the kind of program (which covered most of NASA's 

work) where the end item itself changed over the life of the program

contradiction between fixed targets and changing programs remained insolub

In sum, the recommendations of the Booz, Allen and Hamilton study 

were directed toward attainable goals. Incentives were not to be used as a cu

unavoidable uncertainties, nor could they compensate for the lack of pro

definition that their use presupposed. Within these assumptions, the study 

recommended continued use of incentive contracts for R&D and support ser

use of a phased approach in contracting, in which the final fee would refle

contractor's accomplishment in all phases; introduction of "steeper" (hi

incentives as technical definition improved; and NASA's implementation of 

tional case studies on recent contracts.m The basic conclusion, however, wa

NASA's use of incentives had been justified by the results. And though the 

group did not say so explicitly, its drift was that incentives were the most eff

way in which NASA could simulate market conditions in what was essenti

nonmarket environment. 

The conclusions of the Booz, Allen and Hamilton report suggest a 

observation. In the mid-1960s NASA was moving toward more rather tha

technical direction of programs. The introduction of incentives and their 

spread use influenced and was affected by the establishment of phased p

planning guidelines. It was the essence of phased project planning that i

open many technical options, allowing management to intervene at almos

point before the final developmental phase. And by recommending that ince

104 
THE NASA ACQUISITION PROCESS 

be phased to stress those subgoals that collectively made up the program objective, 

Booz, Allen and Hamilton clarified what has been implicit throughout this discussion: While procurement and program planning were two ways of regarding 

a unified acquisition process, the latter was logically prior to the former. 

105 

Chapter 5 

NASA Manpower Policy 

INTRODUCTION 

No matter how brilliant NASA planning might have been, it would have come 

to nought without the manpower to implement it. The success of NASA 

management in transforming a small research organization into one of the largest 

Federal agencies within five years of its creation depended on the assembly of 

scientists, engineers, and managers who made the transition possible. That NASA 

grew rapidly is undeniable. Starting its official life with the nucleus of engineers 

inherited from NACA, the new agency soon added personnel transferred from the 

Vanguard program and the Army Ballistic Missile Agency. But after acquiring 

the von Braun team in July 1960, NASA had to recruit manpower directly, a 

problem made even more onerous by President Kennedy's commitment of the 

nation to a lunar landing before the end of the decade. The 1960s began with a 

tremendous increase in the agency's manpower, followed by a contraction as 

marked as the expansion that preceded it. The number of contractor employees 

alone doubled in 1961-1962 and again in the following year 1 to the point where 

420 000 persons (contractor and civil service) were working directly or indirectly 

for NASA at the beginning of 1966.2 This marked the turning point; from a total 

of 396 000 employees at the end of June 1966, agency employment fell to 307 000 

in 1967, to 268 000 in 1968, and to 218 000 in 1969.3 

But these figures alone do not explain the mix of skills the agency needed, the 

reasons for using so high a proportion of contractor employees, or the problems 

created by Government-wide standards to which the agency must conform. NASA 

officials had to meet internal requirements while conforming to the policies of four 

· other agencies: the Bureau of the Budget, which approved or took exception to 

NASA personnel ceilings; the U.S. Civil Service Commission, which established 

Federal standards for personnel management and position classification; the U.S. 

General Accounting Office, which, as the watchdog for Congress, was frequently 

to investigate NASA's use of support service contracts (and by extension, its 

107 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

conduct of research and development programs) in the later 1960s; and 

Department of Defense, which supplied NASA with military detailees ex

enced in managing complex development programs. 

The questions addressed in this chapter include the following: How did 

agency's manpower policies contribute to the success of NASA programs? W

specific features of NASA manpower management would account for the su

it had in building the agency's work force? Where and by whom was perso

policy made? Was NASA as successful in scaling down as it has been in "too

up"? Finally, were NASA installations aggregations of manpower and equipm

that were to be dispersed once the mission for which they were assembled 

completed, or were the centers organized to take on scientific work other tha

kind for which they were created? Each of these questions is considered b

arriving at more general conclusions. 

THE MAKING OF NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

How was NASA manpower policy made? Given the decentralized stru

of the agency, there could be no uniform policy imposed from above. Instead, t

were competing interest "nodes" with various conceptions of the problem 

various preferred solutions. Below the level of top management, the Perso

Division was charged with developing and administering NASA's personnel 

gram within the framework of civil service regulations. Established as a div

of the Office of Administration following the 1961 reorganization, the Perso

Division had two Directors during the period under consideration: Robe

Lacklen, who served from October 1958 to the end of 1964, and Grove Web

who was Acting Director and then permanent Director from January 1965 

his death in 1972. * In line with Webb's concept of functional management

Director of Personnel was authorized to "establish standards, procedures 

operating guidelines ... review and advise on proposed allocations of per

nel ... participate with Headquarters and Field officials in the selection o

personnel." 4 But the Division's powers were sharply limited in several way

had relatively little visibiljty since it was only part of a larger functional office 

lacked the quasi-autonomy of Procurement within the Office of Industry Af

In the gritty bureaucratic prose of one internal report; Personnel was not 

position 

to participate in formulation of policy and high-level implementation in critical matters, su

as salary, budgets [and) allocation of top positions .. .. the organizational placement 

Personnel is too low in the NASA organization to deal with total personnel manageme

problems on an agency-wide basis. The ... Director of Personnel is apparently able 

discuss personnel matters with a Deputy or Assistant Director at a Center level but not w

the Center Director himself. 5 

• Before the 1961 reorganization, Personnel was a division of the Office of Business Administration 

by Albert Siepert. 

108 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

Headquarters Personnel Division did not manage and had little control over 

personnel offices at the centers. In effect, each center worked out its own problems 

in its own way. Not the least of Personnel's problems was due to the program 

offices' practice of dealing directly with the centers rather than working through 

the functional offices. The great and evident success of NASA personnel management owed something to the fact that headquarters did not interfere with what the 

centers wanted to do. 

To the extent that there were uniform personnel guidelines, they were due 

to the logic of NASA programs and to periodic investigations by the Civil Service 

Commission and the General Accounting Office. Policy was made at headquarters 

not only by the Personnel Division, but also by standing committees of which the 

Director was a member ex officio, by ad hoc task forces, by the NASA Management Committee, and by Webb's intervention from time to time. Webb's interest 

in recruiting executive managers was well known, and he was prepared to take 

exception to any policy proposal that went counter to his experience in private 

industry, at the State Department, and at the Bureau of the Budget. He disagreed, 

for example, with a 1964 report of the Committee for Economic Development 

recommending that the task of improving executive management in the Federal 

Government should be assigned to a separate office within the White House. 6 

Webb thought that management "must always find a way to marry substance and 

administration at each level and ... the senior leaders in the departments and 

agencies are the focal points to which the President must look to get this done. " 

One example of Webb's interest in personnel management illustrates how 

policy at NASA was not made, and the example applies beyond the personnel 

issue. A recurring problem in most large organizations is how to select skilled 

executives: how to strike a balance between promotion from within and recruitment from without, how to determine the characteristics sought in executive 

managers, how to persuade prospects to join, and how to screen candidates for 

positions. This problem has arisen from time to time since NASA's establishment 

and has been resolved in several ways, ranging from informal recruitment by the 

first Administrator Glennan and later by Webb, to systems developed by the 

program offices and centers on the basis of their experience and needs. In 1965 

NASA introduced a system for recruiting executives from outside the agency and 

later adapted it to cover internal selection. The system, regarded as comparable 

to the one used for selecting astronauts, was used to fill vacancies at the Electronics 

Research Center and at Goddard. In March 1965 Deputy Associate Administrator Jack Young, after clearing the matter with Associate Administrator Seamans and his deputy Hilburn, authorized a taskforce to study NASA executive 

personnel administration, and this group, headed by Young's executive assistant 

John Cole, issued a report on 29 November. The Cole report was an example of 

complete staff work down to the draft NASA Management Instructions provided 

to carry out its recommendations. But nothing came of the report, chiefly, it would 

seem, because Webb shot it down. The task force had neither sought his guidance 

nor solicited his views, and its principal recommendation-that the executive 

109 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

personnel administration function be organized directly under the Asso

Administrator-seemed to fly in the face of all that Webb believed. He 

reported to have asked, "Where would this leave the Personnel Director? If 

to be a high level official he needs this function. This tends to go agains

concept of joining . . . substance and administration at each level." The repor

not recognize what Webb and Seamans had done to bring talent into NA

"How could we have done more in ... recruitment of George Mueller-w

did his people come from? Who got Mueller? Newell? Bisplinghoff? Ad

Promoted Newell? What we want to do is teach them how to do what they d

know-change when a Goett or Holmes stops the kind of managemen

sponsiveness we want." 7 Cole's recommendations would have placed mor

liance on a system than on the judgment of senior management. 

In short, the moral of this story seems to be that no important chang

personnel policy could be made without involving top management. No a

cywide personnel policy could succeed without being a mixture of systematic 

informal recruitment; and functional officials had to do their staff work 

submit their findings without, as it were, presenting top management with ac

plished facts. 

NASA EXCEPTED AND SUPERGRADE POSITIONS, 1958-1968 

Any account of the role of top management in making policy must exa

excepted and supergrade positions because they were among the most p

means by which the Administrator shaped the agency.8 To understand the 

portance of the excepted position, one must consider NACA's position vis-

private industry at the end of World War II. Along with other Govern

laboratories, NACA found that it could no longer compete with industry fo

best engineers; the situation was such that it threatened NACA's ability to op

effectively, if at all. In 1947 and 1949, Congress enacted legislation of the ut

significance to NACA/NASA. The act of 1 August 1947 (Public Law 80-

authorized the Secretary of Defense to fill forty-five scientific and profess

positions at salaries from $10 000 to $13 000, a range equivalent to that o

highest ranking Government officials; this authority was extended to NAC

1949 when it was allotted ten "Public Law 313" positions. Congress intende

positions to be used for recruitment rather than retention. They were to be 

by the head of the agency with the concurrence of the Civil Service Commi

(CSC). Moreover, the agency head was empowered to determine the approp

salary within the bounds set by legislation. In a word, the 194 7 act was inte

to give certain agencies, especially those doing R&D, a flexibility within 

bounds of the civil service system. Public Law 313 was in no way intended 

blank check, and such positions were not to be filled as a matter of course. 

expansion of Public Law 313 positions was the result of tough bargaining betw

NACA and CSC. 

110 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

The 1949 Classification Act served to bring civil service salaries in line with 

those in the private sector. As the first major reform in classification since 1923, 

it established the job classification system that prevailed until the civil service 

reorganization of 1978. Briefly, the 1949 act accomplished four things. It consolidated the old "professional and scientific" and "clerical-administrative-fiscal" 

categories into one common structure, added three new grades popularly known 

as "supergrades", (GS-16 through GS-18), established numerical limits on the 

number of supergrades that could be established by esc (the so-called "general 

quota"), and authorized the Commission to set standards for supergrade positions 

as well as the right to withdraw allocations from agencies not conforming to those 

standards. The supergrades established in 1949 were an addition to, not a replacement of, the Public Law 313 positions created two years earlier. However, with 

each increase in salaries in the supergrade range, Public Law 313 positions have 

been more or less reduced to those in the GS-16 to GS-18 range. 

These two measures alleviated but did not resolve the problem of competitive 

salaries. From 1950 to 1958 Director Dryden and Jerome Hunsaker, chairman 

of NACA's Main Committee, urged Congress to extend its allotment of Public 

Law 313 positions. In 1956 Congress authorized thirty such positions (NACA 

had requested sixty), and on 20 June 1958 it authorized a ceiling of ninety Public 

Law 313 positions in anticipation of the creation of the new ·space agency. But in 

a curious way, this legislation only accentuated the problem. In 1949-19 50 Dryden, Hunsaker, and the members of the Main Committee had decided that these 

positions ought to be filled from within. They had reasoned that the persons they 

might recruit would probably not be as qualified as the branch chiefs in the 

research divisions of the laboratories, "and that to bring such men of lesser quality 

into the agency under P .L.-313 appointments, while leaving the deputy laboratory 

directors and chiefs of major research divisions at 'P-8' would be indefensible and 

would precipitate numerous resignations." 9 

But this consideration did not arise when NACA asked for further extensions 

of Public Law 313 authority. By 1956 "the salary crisis was so critical that NACA 

was seeking any measures to retain its key personnel .. . from 19 51 through 19 58 

NACA fought steadily for higher grades, P.L. 313 authority-any measures by 

which it could retain its staff through recognition and the prestige that the new 

supergrades and the P.L.-313 positions afforded." 10 Yet none of this stemmed the 

inexorable leakage of top personnel to industry. Between January 1955 and early 

1960, NACA/NASA lost more than 250 GS-11 through GS-16 personnel with 

a median service of 11 years, 73 of them to 3 companies. The median salary 

increase for NACA executives moving to industry was $1 ,000-$3,000. 11 Such 

losses made it more difficult for the agency to perform its mission. As one author, 

assessing the problem in 1961, observed, "the government [was) indirectly paying 

these people what it [would) not pay them directly." 12 

Such was NASA's position from its establishment to mid-1961 . Congress 

sought to give NASA a much greater flexibility in filling science and engineering 

positions. Section 203(b)(2) of the Space Act provided that the officers and employees of NASA 

111 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

shall be compensated in accordance with the civil-service laws and their compensation fixed 

in accordance with the Classification Act of 1949, except that (A) to the extent the Administrator deems such action necessary to the discharge of his responsibilities, he may appoint and 

fix the compensation (up to a limit of $19,000 a year, or up to a limit of $21,000 a year for 

a maximum of ten positions) of not more than two hundred and sixty of the scientific

engineering, and administrative personnel of the Administration without regard to such laws

Unfortunately, the intent of this clause was partially nullified by a ruling of 

U.S. Comptroller General on the day that NASA began its official life: NACA

Public Law 313 positions were included in, not an addition to, the 260 positio

authorized by the Space Act. Nevertheless, NASA managed to have the ceil

raised twice within the next 3 years, from 260 to 290 in June 1960 and to 425 

October 1961. The first increase was needed to accommodate the top-level perso

nel transferred from the Army Ballistic Missile Agency to the new Marsh

Space Flight Center. In addition, twelve Public Law 313 positions were tra

ferred from DOD to NASA-the so-called "German positions" -and the numb

of all positions permitted above $19 000 was raised from ten to thirteen. T

second increase, from 290 to 425, was in response to the imperatives of the mann

lunar landing; included was a proviso that not more than 355 were to be est

lished prior to 1 March 1962 and not more than 390 prior to 1 July 1962. 

To understand how NASA used its supergrades and excepted positions, i

well to round out the picture with a brief account of the 1962 Salary Reform A

Earlier it was shown that lack of comparability, or equal pay for equal work, h

been one of the problems NASA inherited from its predecessor agency. By 19

one of the major problems within the Federal structure was how to retain, 

alone attract, executives who could make considerably more money for compa

ble work in the private sector. Over the next two years, pressure for change bu

up within the Government, beginning with a March 1961 CSC report show

just how large the discrepancies between the public and private sectors rea

were.* This was followed by a Bureau of Labor Statistics report in Novem

1961 to much the same effect. These reports, along with that of an Advisory Pa

on Federal Pay Systems, were the bases for the legislation introduced by Presid

Kennedy on 20 February 1962.t The 1962 act further enhanced NASA's abi

to get the job done; indeed, it was the one major piece of legislation during 

1960s to allow NASA the increases in executive positions that top managem

believed to be essential. The act increased the rate for GS-18 positions fr

$18 500 to $20 000; identified the earlier $19 000 limit for all but thirty excep

positions (the number having been raised) with "the highest rate for grade G

18"; and, while raising the quota of supergrade positions in the Government 

• The results were so startlrng "that the White House established a special committee of consultants to rev

the 'matches' made, to assure that the findings were valid." Among the consultants was James Webb, th

member of the board of several companies, including McDonnell Aircraft. Braithwaite, "The Executive Per

nel Program, 1958-1962" Oan. 1967), p. 48. 

-t Note also that the Bell report (pp. 75-78) appeared at the right time in May 1962. 

112 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

2400, established a nonquota category of scientific and research positions to be 

filled by agencies with approval by CSC. The act did not remove all numerical 

limitations nor did it fully accomplish making Federal salaries above grade GS-15 

really comparable to the private sector. But for NASA in particular, it afforded 

an opportunity to recruit executives in the face of the continued denial to NASA 

of higher excepted position ceilings. In October 1962, for example, Webb requested the Bureau of the Budget to increase the number of such positions from 

425 to 750. In July 1963 the Bureau denied the request, suggesting that NASA 

meet its requirements through applying to CSC for nonquota positions. This is 

what NASA had perforce to do; thus by the beginning of FY 1967, NASA had just 

over 700 supergrade personnel on board. 13 

One of the difficulties in evaluating so complex and technical an-area as 

NASA's use of supergrade and nonquota positions is the lack of precision with 

which these terms were used. A GS-16 position could be supergrade, excepted, 

nonquota, or Public Law 313, depending on the context. Another potential pitfall 

is to make too much of NASA's uniqueness. In seeking to .attract the most highly 

qualified engineers and administrators, NASA was doing no more than any other 

R&D agency. When Webb and Dryden tried unsuccessfully to raise the excepted 

position ceiling to 7 50, they coordinated their program with the Director of 

Defense Research and Engineering and the Director of the National Institutes of 

Health. 14 

With these caveats, the question remains: What difference did the availability of excepted and nonquota positions make to NASA? The most important 

administrative result was the leverage gained by Glennan and then Webb for 

structuring the agency. Only the Administrator could "establish an Excepted 

Position, change the assignment of an incumbent, change his title, or his rate of 

compensation." 15 Glennan and Webb thought of these positions as a resource 

personal to themselves, a resource that might be used to structure the agency at 

the higher levels without the need to seek congressional approval. But from abour 

1962, a number of constraints began to restrict the Administrator's ability to allot 

excepted positions. Within the agency there was pressure from the program offices 

and the centers to retain the excepted positions they already had. The centers and 

program directors would, as it were, "associate their 'total' ... as a 'quota' 

guaranteed to them, so that with loss of any one individual, they felt free to 

'replace him' with some other position." 16 From being the Administrator's personal resource, the excepted position became a budgetary resource to be divided 

within the agency. In effect, every such position tended to be committed once CSC 

authorized it. 

The real threat to NASA's use of excepted slots came from outside. First the 

number of excepted positions was frozen at 425; then the Administrator lost 

authority to place certain top-level positions in the excepted category; finally esc 

began to approve fewer nonquota positions, even though the number of such 

positions was unrestricted by law. The Federal Executive Salary Act of 1964, for 

the first time, named those positions beyond the $21 000 limit (raised from 

113 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

$19 000 in 1962) that the Administrator could fill; these were the positions 

below the level of the Administrator and Deputy Administrator. In the view of 

official, 

The limit of $21 ,000 for "not more than 30" of the Excepted Positions had permitted th

Administrator to re-establish the major program offices of NASA as he deemed nece

sary .. .. With the top positions in the Agency now set forth by precise title in the Exeuctiv

Salary Act, he must seek prior approval of further major changes through formal legislativ

proposal and debate. The element of "flexibility" and quick response to new manageme

concepts and strcutures was lost. 17 

As NASA manpower and funding peaked, the agency was under m

greater pressure from CSC to justify its nonquota positions. In October 1966

example, esc advised the heads of executive agencies that further requests 

positions at grade GS-16 and above "must show how the needed positions 

essential to the accomplishment of Great Society objectives." 18 It would not su

for NASA to claim that it supported the "Great Society" in some general 

undefinable way. Agency heads now had to cite specific legislative or execu

authority for the programs for which they sought new positions. Nor were 

positions, even if approved, to become in any sense the property of the ag

requesting them; whenever a slot was no longer required for an approved posi

the Commission would consider Government-wide needs in deciding what t

with it. 

The more NASA sought an increased number of nonquota positions, 

more chary the Commission became in granting them. In August 1966 C

Chairman John W. Macy, Jr. wrote to Webb: 

It is very difficult for us to rationalize the increase in the number of high-level positions 

an agency when the program of the agency is not changing significantly . . . . it appea

questionable that the increases since 1962 fully support the increase which has taken pla

in the number of high-level positions .. . . I am afraid that you and we will be subject to seve

criticism from the Congress if the number of high-level positions continues to increase at th

rate at which it has been increasing for the past several years. 19 

Unfortunately for NASA, the dollar level of its programs was not a reliable in

of its requirements. NASA spent comparatively little on salaries; the bulk o

funds went for contracted hardware systems. This meant that as NASA's ca

equipment increased, the agency would continue to need highly trained perso

for the kinds of scientific programs that such equipment made possible

1966-1967 NASA programs continued to grow beyond the capabilities envis

by CSC and the Bureau of the Budget in 1962- 1963. The new Electro

Research Center was still only partially staffed, and planning for Voyager 

Apollo Applications was under way, while in October 1965 the transfer to 

Kenqedy Space Center of responsibility for unmanned launches meant that a 

block of positions would be needed there. The upshot of the matter was a com

mise. NASA agreed not to seek more GS-16 personnel; instead it would use s

114 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

of its forty excepted slots on the understanding that they would be converted to 

grade GS-16 at the beginning of FY 1968. However, the majority of these excepted slots had not been utilized when Seamans, who had handled negotiations 

with CSC, left NASA at the end of 1967. 

If this account of NASA's authority to fill excepted positions shows anything, 

it is the great importance that top management attached to them. Webb, Dryden, 

and Seamans fought hard to extend that authority by persuading Congress to raise 

the level of excepted positions, hiring nonquota personnel where excepted personnel were unavailable, reserving as far as possible a certain number of excepted 

positions for "quick hires" of executives from outside the agency, and doing what 

they could to keep the center directors and program associate administrators at the 

highest levels authorized by the various salary acts. In some ways, NASA's record 

in justifying its supergrade positions was outstanding. One ranking CSC staff 

member advised Macy that, of all the supergrade positions, those from NASA had 

"the least water in them, of any of the agencies and departments." 20 Yet the 

success of NASA's use of excepted personnel mostly depended on a balance of 

forces outside the agency-principally the willingness of Congress to raise the 

salary structure in order to attract engineers and administrators on whose talents 

the future of NASA would depend. 

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE NASA WORK FORCE 

Despite their significance for top management, excepted positions comprised 

a small fraction of the NASA work force, seldom more than 2 percent. One must 

turn elsewhere to derive some useful generalizations about NASA employees as 

a whole and to consider the more general features of agency personnel policy. Four 

features seem noteworthy: the generous allotment of supergrade and excepted 

positions for the agency's top managers; the unusually high proportion of scientists 

and engineers in relation to the total work force; the use of military detailees as 

project managers, support staff, and, of course, astronauts; and NASA's extensive 

use of support service contracts at its newer centers. The first and last features 

have already been discussed; the next section considers the ways in which centers 

like Marshall Space Flight Center and Manned Spacecraft Center (or program 

offices like Tracking and Data Acquisition) made use of support contract personnel. This section considers the makeup of in-house personnel. 

A high proportion of NASA personnel were scientists and engineers, a higher 

proportion, perhaps, than in any other Federal agency doing research and development work.Z1 Between 1960 and 1968 their share of the total NASA work force 

was fairly constant, ranging between one-third in 1961 and two-fifths in 1967 

(table 5-1). Moreover, if the figures for in-house and contractor scientists and 

engineers are combined, the total was a constant one-fourth throughout the 

period. 

But these figures must be examined before their significance becomes apparent. First of all, who are scientists and engineers? Are statisticians and computer 

115 
Table S-1.- NASA scientists and engineers as a percentage of N

(30 June approximations) 

- 

-

o- 

Characteristic 1960 1961 1962 1963 19

Contractor scientists and engineers 7 300 12 600 25 000 48 200 68 8

Percentage of contractor employment 20.0% 21.9% 21.6% 22.1% 1

NASA scientists and engineers 3500 5 800 8 200 11 000 12 4

Percentage of NASA employment 34.3% 33.1% 34.6% 36.8% 3

Total scientists and engineers 10 800 18 400 33 200 59 200 81 2

Percentage of total employment 23.1% 24.5% 23.9% 23.8% 2

Distribution of total scientists and engineers 

By employer (100%) 

Contractors 67.6% 68.5% 75.3% 81.4% 84

NASA 32.4 31.5 24.7 18.6 1

By appropriation (100%) 

Administrative operations 1

Research and development 8

Construction of facilities 

By program office ( 100%) 

University affairs 

Technology utilization 0

Tracking and data acquisition 4

Advanced research and technology 1

Space sciences and applications 1

Manned space flight 62

By sector ( 100%) 

Government 15

Industry 8

University and nonprofit 2

Other characteristics (1 00%) 

Prime and subcontractors-R&D 7Prime and subcontractors-COF 

Service contractors-R&D 

Service contractors-AD 0

Materials and supplies-R&D 8

University and nonprofit-R&D 2

NASA employees-AD 15

Source: NASA Data Book, table 3-27. 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

programmers included in this category; are persons trained in science or engineering who were employed in positions that did not require such training 

·included? The lack of widely accepted definitions may be one reason why statistical breakdowns that ·would compare NASA employment of scientists and engineers with other R&D agencies are so hard to come by. The matter is further 

complicated.because scientists and engineers were grouped by NASA under three 

separate occupational codes. NASA defined scientists and engineers as "all persons primarily engaged in the performance or direction of scientific, engineering, 

mathematical, or other technical professional work requiring a 4-year college 

major ... in engineering or in physical, life, or mathematical science." 22 This 

would exclude persons trained in the social sciences, include statisticians, and 

leave open the occupational group to which computer programmers belong. Of the 

total, all but an insignificant number of scientists and engineers were grouped 

under occupational code 700 (scientific and engineering positions), a classification 

that included persons with aerospace technology qualifications. This qualification 

was important chiefly because or the special examination that esc authorized 

NASA to employ, beginning in 1962. This examination was for NASA's use 

alone; and part C, "for work in Research and Development Administration," was 

hailed by NASA officials as an "advance in selective examination and recruitment." What made the examination, especially part C, unique, was that the 

applicant, in addition to the required educational background, had to demonstrate 

"understanding of research and development organizations and their specialized 

problems, organizational structures, functions, operations, and characteristics." 23 

The beauty of this requirement was its openendedness: NASA could add specialties, give the examiner discretion in interpreting requirements, and generally 

make use of a hiring freedom unmatched by any other agency. NASA personnel 

controlled the examination at the critical points: they administered it, they rated 

it, and they gave it much of its specific content. The aerospace technology examination "provided a means for NASA to fill almost all of what could be termed its 

'professional' positions. This, combined with the power of the Administrator to 

make 'excepted' appointments, gave NASA almost complete control over whom it 

hired." 24 

Where did NASA obtain its newly hired scientists and engineers? The major 

hiring campaigns occurred in 1961-1962 and 1962-1963; the results are shown 

in table S-2. Approximately 70 percent of newly hired scientists and engineers 

came from either industry or Government. In 1963-1964 the source of new 

technical hires shifted significantly from Government to industry, while recruitment from colleges and universities stayed constant at 23 percent. All this was 

in marked contrast to contractor experience: Most of their new hires came from 

other industrial organizations or other plants and divisions of the same company, 

with an insignificant percentage recruited from Government. 

Where were in-house and contractor scientists and engineers employed? 

Table S-3, which gives the essential figures as of 30 June 1964, reveals that 85 

percent of the scientists and engineers in the NASA work force were employed by 

117 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Table 5-2. - Organizational sources of NASA in-house scientists and enginee

Source 1961-62 1963-64 Differe

Total 100.0% 100.0% 

Industry 32.4% 40.8% +8.

Federal Government 40.1% 28.9% -11.

College or university 1 23.8% 23.3% -0.

Other' 3.7% 7.0% +3.

1 Graduating students account for 20.8% in 1963-64 and 22.1% in 1961-62. 2 Includes Nonprofit organizations, unemployed, and other. 

Source: Reply to Sen. Gaylord Nelson, table III-A. NASA Staff Study of Recruitment Sources and Sele

Characteristics of Scientists and Engineers Hired by NASA (1 Oct. 1962-30 Sept. 1964). 

private industry, induding JPL; 83 percent were working on NASA progra

funded by the research and development appropriation; 62 percent were employ

under the direct supervision of OMSF and that, of these, 10.8 percent (54 50) w

NASA employees. These figures also show that while 38.2 percent of total NA

civil service employees were scientists and engineers, only 19.8 percent of co

tractor employees were.25 Contractors performed a major share of NASA wo

and NASA required qualified persons to direct and monitor these activities. At 

same time, each NASA scientist or engineer had more contractor employees 

supervise: where there was 1 NASA scientist or engineer for 1.5 contrac

scientists and engineers in 1960, there was only 1 for every 5 in 1964, and 1 

every 5.5 in 1966. 26 

How did NASA requirements for scientists and engineers compare w

national requirements in the same categories? Table 5-4 shows that NA

manpower requirements were 4.6 percent of national requirements in 1964, ris

to only 5.4 percent in 1965. The issue of national manpower requirements 

specialists was a source of some confusion during the m~d-1960s. Journalis

scientists, and Congressmen who criticized the space program accused NAS

among other things, of siphoning off scientific manpower from areas with grea

need, of possessing a disproportionate share of the nation's scientific manpow

and of attracting to itself a greater number of scientists and engineers than 

programs warranted. But such criticisms simply ignored the lack of a natio

policy to coordinate the distribution of scientists and engineers. To be sure, 

NASA Administrator was a member of the Federal Council for Science a

Technology, established in 1959 to act as such a coordinating body. There w

also congressional committees in abundance, ad hoc panels of the National Ac

emy of Sciences, and various coordinating mechanisms involving NASA a

DOD. Nevertheless, there was no formal agency to coordinate or to make a unif

national science policy; therefore, each agency was free to recruit personnel 

meet its own needs, subject only to budgetary restrictions. In the absence 

118 
...... 

...... 

-o 

Table 5-3. - Total scientists and engineers on NASA work b

Research and 

Development 

Program 

Office Total Prime 

and 

Sub 

University 

and Nonprofit Materi

Total 87 200 58 300 2 300 6 60

Office of Manned Space Flight 50 350 39 100 60 4 57

Office of Advanced Research and 

Technology 11 600 5 560 460 93

Office of Space Science and Applications 15 420 10 800 1 620 84

Office of Tracking and Data Acquisition 3 720 2800 100 26

Office of Technology Utilization and Policy 

Planning 110 40 60 - 

Source: NASA Management Information Systems Division (Office of Administration), Scientists and 

June 30, 7964, table IV. 15 Dec. 1964. 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Table S-4. - NASA requirements for scientists and engineers compare

with national requirements, 1960-1970. 

NASA Requirem

Year National NASA as a Percent of N

(I Jan.) Requirements 1 Requirements 2 Requirement

1960 I 185 000 8 400 .7 

1961 I 260 000 14 700 1.2 

1962 I 340 000 22 000 1.6 

1963 I 415 000 43 500 3.1 

1964 I 495 000 68 600 4.6 

1965 I 570 000 84 500 5.4 

1966 I 645 000 87 900 5.3 

1967 I 725 000 87 900 5.1 

1968 I 800 000 87 900 4.8 

1969 I 880 000 87 900 4.7 

1970 I 955 000 87 900 4.4 

1 The data on national requirements are from preliminary estimates prepared by the Department of 

published in The Manpower Report of the President (Mar. 1963), pp. 100, 125, as follows: total scientists

335 000; total engineers, 1960, 850 000; total scientists, 1970, 580 000; total engineers, 1970, I 375 000

table presents a linear interpolation between the key dates of 1960 and 1970. For 1960 through 1964, the

are estimates of persons employed in existing positions. For 1965 through 1970, the data are project

requirements, not supply. 2 The estimates of NASA requirements for 1967 through 1970 are projected at a constant level assuming a b

program of approximately $5.2 billion annually. 

Source: NASA Management Information Systems Division (Office of Administration), Scientists and Eng

and Total Employment on NASA Programs as of june 30, 1964, table IV. 15 Dec. 1964. 

yardsticks to determine "how much is enough," no one could say that a ce

percentage of scientists in an R&D agency was enough or too much. Projec

by the Bureau of Labor Statistics or by NASA had to reckon on the existen

variables external to the system. For what they are worth, the figures in table 

show that NASA requirements were neither as great as its critics feared n

small as its defenders anticipated. 

One feature that the tables do not indicate is that in the 1960s the N

work force was mostly white and male, especially at the higher levels. The 

of equal employment opportunity (EEO) was not yet the source of difficu

would later become, when the imperative (for NASA) of recruiting and retai

highly trained personnel collided with the demands of blacks and women 

greater share of Federal jobs. EEO, as a challenge and as a battle cry, origin

with President Johnson's Executive Order 11246 (24 September 1965). * 

• Extended by Executive Order 11375 (13 October 1967) to cover women. 

120 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

declared the policy of prohibiting discrimination in Federal employment, and it 

enjoined the head of each executive agency to "establish and maintain a positive 

program of equal employment opportunity for all civilian emplbyees and applicants for employment within his jurisdiction." 27 In addition, each agency became 

responsible for ensuring that its contractors took "affirmative action" to promote 

equal employment opportunity. 

This and subsequent executive orders were ambiguous in a crucial sense. It 

was not enough for NASA to show that it did not discriminate against its employees nor that it permitted its contractors to do so. The burden of proof was now on 

the agency to show that minorities and women were adequately represented as a 

percentage of full-time employees. But there was no basis for arguing that one 

group was or was not represented adequately until one answered the question, 

"compared to what?" In 1973, 3.4 percent of all NASA scientists and engineers 

were black, while the Government-wide average for black employees was about 

20 percent. On the other hand, since 3.5 percent of scientists and engineers in the 

United States were of minority groups, the NASA figure was very close to the 

average. Many of the difficulties faced by NASA in implementing EEO were not, 

of course, of the agency's making. The procedures could not be worked all at once 

but only on the basis of accrued experience. Moreover, NASA faced the problem 

of comparable pay in hiring the relatively few black scientists and engineers who 

were coming on the market in the early 1970s; most of them could go into industry 

at salaries considerably higher than NASA was authorized to pay. In any case, 

NASA had all it could do to keep the engineers it already had, much less hire new 

ones. 

In a sense, NASA's problem was how to give EEO proper organizational 

location and visibility. Until 1971, EEO was handled by two separate divisions on 

a part-time basis. The Director of Personnel was responsible for handling internal 

EEO policy, while the Office of Procurement enforced compliance of contractors 

operating at or near NASA centers. Since both offices had many other responsibilities, EEO was relatively low on their list of priorities. Furthermore, 

there were genuine difficulties in coordinating these programs on a Governmentwide basis. On the one hand, CSC was charged with implementing EEO in the 

Federal Government, and the Labor Department was charged with establishing 

rules for contractor compliance. On the other hand, each agency was responsible 

for establishing and maintaining its own program. Thus the potential overlap 

between NASA, CSC and the Labor Department created a zone of uncertainty. 

In September 1971 NASA consolidated its EEO activities by establishing an 

Equal Employment Opportunity Office that reported to the Associate Administrator for Organization and Management. 

NASA policy has always been to make the maximum use of DOD capabilities. Thus NASA used DOD support in contract administration, procurement of 

launch vehicles like the Titan II, and tracking and capsule recovery in the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo programs. One of the more important of these services 

was the detailing of military officers to NASA for extended tours of duty-usually 

121 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

for three years with a one-year renewal option. When NASA was established, 

only persons with experience in the kinds of projects the agency was expecte

implement wer~ officers involved in weapon systems development. A short lis

military detailees form the Air Force makes its own point: Lt. Gen. Sam

Phillips, Apollo Program Manager from 1964 to 1969; Maj. Gen. James 

Humphreys, Jr., Director of Space Medicine, Office of Manned Space Fli

Brig. Gen. Edmund O'Connor, Director of Industrial Operations at Marsh

and Brig. Gen. C. H. Bolender, Program Director for the lunar module. An 

cidental advantage of using detailees was that they did not count a§ainst 

numerical ceiling imposed by the Bureau of the Budget on personnel. 9 

The detailee system was governed by agreements between NASA and DO

especially the agreement approved by President Eisenhower in April 19 59. T

established a procedure for coordinating NASA requests with what DOD 

prepared to furnish; set the tour of ·duty at three years, although either age

could terminate an assignment earlier; stipulated that NASA supervisors prep

military effectiveness reports; and required that NASA reimburse the mili

departments for pay and allowances. The increase in the number of detai

assigned to NASA coincided closely with changes in the scope of NASA's man

spaceflight programs. There were 77 detailees with NASA at the end of 1960, 

at the end of 1962, and 323 at the end of 1966, after which the number gradu

leveled off.30 The number declined after NASA had developed a pool of exp

enced managers capable of taking over many of the jobs to which officers had b

assigned. Many detailees resigned their commissions after completing their to

of duty to take jobs with industry, and it was considered common knowledg

the services that "when they detail an outstanding [flag] officer to NASA, tha

the last they see of him." 31 Not the least of NASA's worries was that there m

be a sudden withdrawal of officers for urgent military needs, as in Southeast A

While NASA continued to call on the services for manpower, from 1966 

positions were not filled with detailees until a reasonable effort had been mad

obtain a civilian. 

The selection of the astronauts deserves fuller treatment than the b

summary offered here, but a paragraph must suffice.32 Millions who could 

have identified the NASA Administrator or the Associate Administrator 

Manned Space Flight knew who John Glenn and Neil Armstrong were. Betw

1959 and 1969 NASA selected seven groups for astronautic training. Over 

decade, there was a trend from military detailees to civilian recruits and a s

toward the utilization of scientists in addition to test pilots. In this sense, 

history of astronaut selection reflects the changing nature of the man

spaceflight program. In the beginning what counted was the physical and me

stamina of the candidates, as well as their coordination and reaction time. Man

spaceflight first had to be shown to be feasible before the later Apollo missio

whose main purpose was scientific investigation, could proceed. Astronauts w

also expected to assist in developing future spacecraft and advanced flight sim

lators, and their experience and judgment were essential in changing or freez

122 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

the design of existing flight equipment. The recruitment and training of the 

astronauts was, without doubt, the most taxing and successful of NASA's personnel development programs. 

SUPPORT SERVICE CoNTRACTS AND THE GENERAL ACCOUNTING OFFICE 

The reader might suppose that since NASA was committed to contracting out 

for most of its operations, all the centers (and program offices) used contractor 

personnel in the same way and to the same degree. This was not the way support 

contracting worked. In 1968 Langley, with 4200 civil service personnel, had only 

450 support contractors actually working at the center. Lewis, with 4600 civil 

service employees, had about 350 support contractors, almost all of whom were at 

the center's Plum Brook Station.33 In general, the newer centers made the most 

extensive use of support services, but even they followed no set policy from above, 

save for the vague formulas of the NASA circular (NPC 401), "Contracting for 

Nonpersonal Services." The three Office of Manned Space Flight (OMSF) centers, for example, had individual contracting patterns.34 Following the August 

1963 reorganization, Marshall consolidated its contracts into two groups. In the 

first were the "mission support" contracts negotiated for each of the center's nine 

laboratories; these were in research, test, design, and "special maintenance and 

operation." Marshall then planned two master contracts-one for technical services and one for management services-each of which was designed to support 

the center across all organizational lines. At Marshall (and also at Goddard) there 

was one prime contractor for each laboratory or division for which support was 

provided, each contract covered one or two years with an option for renewal, and 

the contract was normally cost-plus-award-fee. A noteworthy point, and one that 

distinguished Marshall from the older centers, was that most contract personnel 

were stationed on-site in such a way that they were not always segregated from 

civil service employees. 

The contracting patterns at Kennedy Space Center (KSC) and Manned 

Spacecraft Center (MSC) were slightly different. At Kennedy there were five 

master contracts that supported the center across the board: (1) launch support 

(including advance storage, shop operations, and Complex 39); (2) instrumentation support; (3) base communications (operation and maintenance of all 

communications except administrative telephones); ( 4) administrative service (including printing, photographic support, and automatic data equipment operation); and (5) base operations (including guard, janitorial, and motor pool 

services), which, under a consolidated contract, was provided by Trans-World 

Airlines. Incidentally, NASA's multicontractor approach was the opposite of that 

used by the Air Force at the Eastern Test Range, where Pan American World 

Airways was prime contractor for operation and maintenance. As a congressional 

study noted, 

123 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

NASA deliberately avoided the single-contractor approach used on the Eastern Test Ra

because it did not want to get "locked" into a situation where it had to rely on one contra

The agency was convinced that several contractors . .. would provide more competition 

thus lower costs ... . NASA also contended that a multicontractor pattern minimizes l

problems by not risking the totality of the operation to a single contractor who migh

struck.35 

At MSC the pattern was midway between Marshall's "one contract per l

tory" approach and Kennedy's five master contracts. MSC used six maste

tracts for the same number of functions; within the mission support contrac

were subsidiary contracts, one per laboratory. 

Since the policy issues in contracting for support services are fully dis

in chapter 4, only the main points need be summarized here. NASA def

contracts for nonpersonal services for the following reasons: (1) the rapid bu

of the Gemini and Apollo programs precluded reliance on civil servants alon

it was NASA policy not to develop in-house capabilities that were already 

able in the private sector, (3) NASA employees were needed for technical dir

rather than for hardware fabrication or routine chores, (4) NASA had dev

safeguards for policing its contractors, (5) it was better to let the up-and

swings in manpower take place in the contractor, rather than the civil s

work force, and ( 6) the practice of using support service contractors had been 

disclosed to Congress and the Bureau of the Budget. However, these con

were not in the same category as the Bellcomm and Boeing TIE contracts. Su

service contracts were for functions that were repetitive, continuous, and ro

such as computer programming, data processing, and general maintenance

Bellcomm and Boeing TIE contracts were for engineering support that, 

Congressmen held, NASA had no right to contract out. But relying so heav

the private sector for maintenance services laid NASA open to all sorts of crit

First, there were no cost studies to prove that contracting for services wa

expensive than doing the work in-house . .Second, because many contracto

ployees were located on-site, there was the danger that they would be interm

with the civil service work force and that NASA employees might find them

supervising contract labor, which was illegal. Third, some Government 

union officials suspected that NASA was using support contracts to circu

personnel ceilings imposed by the Bureau of the Budget. And this suspicion 

have drawn support from Webb's correspondence with Budget Director K

Gordon, in which Webb protested manpower restrictions imposed by Go

Webb flatly stated that NASA was using support contracts because NASA

its limited manpower, had to turn outside for certain kinds of work.36 

Outside the Federal Government, most of the opposition to support con

came from organized labor, especially the American Federation of Gover

Employees. Within the Government, NASA manpower and contracting p

were closely watched by several agencies, notably the U.S. General Acco

Office (GAO). Established by the 1921 Budget and Accounting Act, and h

by the U.S. Comptroller General, GAO is an independent agency of the legi

124 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

branch. Its principal function and the reason for its importance is the authority 

vested in it "to examine the manner in which Government agencies discharge their 

financial responsibilities and to make reports to the Congress on the financial 

operations of the Federal agencies." 37 The reports are normally of two kinds: 

survey reports, which serve as the basis either for a draft report or a decision not 

to proceed further; and draft reports, which are submitted to the whole Congress, 

individual members or committees (especially the congressional Government 

Operations committees), or officials of the agency being reviewed.38 Much of 

GAO's influence rests on its authority to approve agencywide accounting systems, 

to audit and settle the accounts of executive officers, and to make comprehensive 

reviews, in which "emphasis is not on the individual transactions but on the 

soundness of the agency's accounting and financial management system and the 

efficiency of its operations generally. " 39 In other words, the Comptroller General 

has construed GAO's authority to inspect an agency's records as one of general 

oversight, comparable to that enjoyed by the legislative committees of Congress. 

NASA's relations with GAO have followed a well-defined pattern. During 

NASA's early years GAO paid it comparatively little attention, save for the 

"production of documents" controversy in 1959. As late as FY 1964, when GAO 

made 147 audit reports to Congress on DOD management, it made only 3 on 

NASA.4" But inevitably GAO would turn more of its attention to NASA; the 

agency was simply too visible, and its contracting practices were too much like 

those of DOD. When Elmer Staats became Comptroller General in March 1966, 

the processes of audit and comprehensive review were intensified. Moreover, 

GAO has two specific powers that were bound to affect its relations with NASA. 

It is authorized to consider protests by unsuccessful bidders on Government 

contracts, and it has the right to audit the records of contractors having Government contracts negotiated without advertising, an authority whose significance for 

NASA is obvious.41 GAO interpreted these powers broadly as authorization to 

review R&D activities, including complete programs. Thus GAO reviewed supposed cost overruns on the development of scientific instruments for Surveyor, the 

management of the S-II program by North American Aviation, and the same 

company's management of its Apollo command and service module contract 

(drawing on excerpts from the Phillips report); undertook to examine the Orbiting 

Astronomical Observatory program at the request of the chairman of the House 

Committee on Science and Astronautics; and reviewed scheduling practices related to the development of the Nimbus spacecraft.

42 

The effects of GAO audit reports varied. In some cases Congress took no 

action; in others GAO terminated a report, either because of inadequate manpower to handle the study or because the study itself did not seem worth pursuing. 

And in a surprising number of cases, GAO canceled or modified draft reports 

because of NASA comments.41 This probably owes less to the innate reasonableness of NASA's position than to the experience gained by officials in constant 

touch with GAO. It has been NASA policy since the early 1960s not to invoke 

executive privilege in response to GAO requests for documents; this had been the 

125 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

issue between Glennan and the Comptroller General when the latter reviewe

negotiations leading to the Rocketdyne contract for the F -1 engine (seep. 73

was consistent with NASA policy that relations with GAO should not degen

into adversary proceedings. More important, NASA took steps to coordina

replies to GAO draft reports. Prior to 1967 agency replies were normally 

pared and dispatched by the "cognizant" official or program office; a repo

Surveyor would be answered by the Associate Administrator for Space Sc

and Applications or his deputy. Under the 1967 reorganization, all replies h

go through the Office of Organization and Management, which coordinate

facts and memorandums comprising NASA's position. In this way, the ag

could speak with one voice. 

Yet it is undeniable that, starting in the mid-1960s, GAO began to ta

close, hard look at NASA. By 1975 it was reviewing NASA activities like the s

shuttle almost on a "real time" basis. The review of R&D programs was b

means the only area to which GAO's audit powers extended. It intens

its review of NASA financial management systems, including the plann

programming-budgeting system mandated for executive agencies in 1965. It 

tinued to review Government-wide use of automatic data processing equipm

especially the rental versus purchase issue. It began to address more of its 

reports to agency officials than to Congress. Finally-and this is where 

discussion began-it turned to NASA's use of contracts for nonpersonal serv

from bid proposal expenses to contracts for base support at NASA laborat

and installations.44 Basically, GAO found such contracts suspect, either bec

they set up what appeared to be an employer-employee relation or were co

the Government more money than the use of civil service personnel would 

And here NASA was vulnerable because it could not readily show that 

contracts were less expensive and because NASA had few criteria to deter

whether certain kinds of work should be done in-house or contracted out. 

One such GAO report on contracts at Marshall and Goddard in June 

helped to touch off an evaluation and overhaul of NASA personnel policies

be precise, the GAO report was the first in a chain of events that incl

reductions in the NASA budget, which led to program cancelations and con

itant layoffs of personnel; a Civil Service Commission "Evaluation of Perso

Management," which criticized the ways in which NASA used its manpower

a decision in October by a CSC administrative judge that most NASA sup

contracts were illegal. All these factors led to a NASA-wide review. This co

nation of budget cuts, reductions in force (RIFs, or dismissing personnel) 

across-the-board reviews had an effect on top management that may be c

tonic by some and purgative by others. The next section examines the changes 

review, reduction, and RIFs forced on NASA. 

PERSONNEL MANAGEMENT POLICY, 1967-1969 

Review, reduction, and RIFs must be understood in terms of a broad con

NASA had its interests to defend, but so did GAO, CSC, and the Executive O

126 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

For the reasons given above, GAO eventually was bound to pay more attention 

to NASA contracting and manpower practices. CSC had to mediate between an 

agency that needed (but could not easily request) more nonquota positions and a 

Congress that was inclined to question the number already on hand. As for 

relations with the Executive Office, Webb summed them up with his usual 

frankness at a meeting with center directors in September 1966. Referring to 

President Johnson, he said that . 

we are not dealing with the guy who said, I am your champion, I will go out there and fight 

your baules, I will get Kennedy and his Congress to give you the money. He is saying, by God, 

I have got problems and you fellows are not cooperating with me. You could have reduced 

your expenditures last year and helped me out, you didn't do it. 

At the Bureau of the Budget, 

Elmer Staats is gone, even Kermit Gordon is gone and the guys that are there now are 

interested in this cost-effectiveness program . . .. It is the byword over there .... I must say 

that all I get is a cold, stony demand that we act like the Post Office when I go over there:5 

Webb and the others conceded that there would have to be changes, but the 

meeting broke up without consensus on the nature of the changes. 

In the area of manpower management the agency already had begun a 

blueprint for the future. Three weeks before Webb's meeting with his center 

directors, a NASA task force submitted its "Considerations in the Management 

of Manpower in NASA." This task force, established by Seamans and chaired by 

Wesley Hjornevik, the Director for Administration at MSC, included representatives from other NASA centers; its report provided a penetrating analysis of the 

agency's manpower problems and some recommendations for resolving them.* 

The . task force gave special attention to "possible methods by which Center 

complements could be adjusted by management to meet the needs of changing 

roles and missions." 46 This adjustment problem existed in two forms. One was the 

relation between space sciences and manned spaceflight and the changes in center 

roles that this relation would bring about. The other was the so-called "Marshall 

problem," the belief throughout NASA that Marshall "was the source for manpower needed elsewhere and the place where surplus manpower would occur as 

the Apollo Program phased down." 47 The Marshall problem extended beyond the 

future of Marshall itself to embrace a host of other questions: What should l!e 

done with centers whose primary role and mission (in Marshall's case, booster 

development) was changing or disappearing? How could headquarters mediate 

between two centers reporting to the same program office- like Marshall and 

MSC-with different attitudes toward this problem? Was manpower a resource 

available to the entire agency, one that could be shifted freely between centers? 

And was there any method by which NASA could determine how its work force 

• The Hjornevik report was submitted on 8 September 1966. Besides Hjornevik, the task force included Henry 

Barnett (Lewis), T . Melvin Butler (Langley), Harry Gorman (Marshall), Samuel Keller (Goddard), and 

Merrill Mead (Ames). 

127 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

was utilized, the nature of that work force, and its availability as program

terminated and others were begun? The last question is logically anterior 

others since, without accurate figures, no agency manpower plan co

realistic. 

The Hjornevik task force found that existing techniques for tracking 

power were inadequate, whether because headquarters ignored them, or b

the program offices only presented their needs one year at a time, or beca

various manpower reports did not match excess manpower with new pro

The task force report emphasized that this was not enough and that "a con

effort should be made ... to formalize and ... standardize methods of jus

and validating manpower requirements at all levels." 48 This could be d

making three-to-five-year projections based on actual and proposed futur

grams and the requirements for new starts being considered at each center

a system might tell NASA management how manpower was really used. M

the point, such a system could be effective only in proportion as it relate

center and program to the other centers and programs comprising the total 

effort. 

To use such information, the agency needed techniques for matching 

power with program requirements. In turn, their usefulness involved two as

tions: that each center's manpower complement would remain stable an

contractor manpower would remain available to free civil service employ

more important tasks. Granted these assumptions (both of which were ove

by events), the task force identified seven ways to match manpower wit

grams: functional transfer of groups (e.g., the transfer of the Space Task 

from Langley to Houston); individual transfers; RIFs in one area couple

increased hiring in another; attrition either among organizations or skill g

retraining personnel; reassigning work from an overloaded to an under

area; and use of the vacant-position "float," that is, the gap between auth

and filled positions.

49 These options were available to NASA but not all 

same degree. The task force dismissed out of hand the possibility of mass tra

the conditions that had led to the transfer of the Space Task Group to H

or the Naval Research Laboratory scientists to Goddard no longer existed. 

fers of individuals were even less likely to succeed because of the morale pr

such moves usually created. Reductions in force were to be viewed as a last 

"where a function, office, or discrete facility is being eliminated ... its resu

usually unsatisfactory." "" Retraining personnel was valuable as a me

"changing the skill mix or enabling a Center to move from one step in tech

to the next." But the task force rejected retraining as a way of redistr

manpower for the same reason that it viewed personnel transfers as impr

In the end, the Hjornevik report endorsed three methods of matching per

to programs. It very cautiously approved the concept of assigning tasks wh

manpower was available. Such endorsement had to be cautious becaus

center had developed its own special capability and because "the prime inte

a center can properly change only very gradually." 51 The task force also ap

128 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

of using attrition to move slots between centers and the "float" of unfilled positions 

to handle emergency requirements. 

In sum, the Hjornevik report provided NASA with three things. First, it 

diagnosed the agency's manpower problems: the lack of reporting systems to 

determine the agency's needs as related to present and future planning, the 

absence of tradeoff studies to establish how far personnel at one center were 

available to another, and the failure of officials to coordinate manpower information with the budget and programming cycle. Second, it made specific recommendations for the short term; recommendations that on the one hand called for the 

assembly of information needed by management for an agencywide view of civil 

service manpower, and on the other hand, for the centers' participation in the kind 

of planning that would have to cross institutional and program office lines. Third, 

the report attempted to demonstrate that attrition and reassignment of work 

between centers were the two basic methods for matching civil service manpower 

to program changes. All these recommendations assumed that NASA could main- . 

tain its in-house work force at a fairly stable level. ·· 

The Hjornevik report was a warning that NASA would have to prepare for 

major changes within the near future. Yet the events of 1967 seem to have taken 

the agency almost unawares. The GAO report of June 196 7 on support contracts 

at Goddard and Marshall concluded that NASA could have achieved additional 

savings by using civil service employees.52 At Marshall, GAO auditors reviewed 

three contracts at three laboratories and concluded that NASA could have realized 

savings of 19 percent; at Goddard, of 7.4 percent.* The thrust of this al)d other 

GAO reports of 1967-1968 was that NASA had not developed adequate costing 

standards to justify contracting for support services, whether for engineering 

support at Goddard or guard and fire protection services at KSC. Besides GAO's 

failure to recognize the pressure from Congress to maintain personnel strength 

below authorized levels, what especially troubled NASA officials was the report's 

conclusion that the principal rationale for such contracts no longer applied: "in 

contrast to its past rate of growth, NASA has now achieved a relative degree of 

stability and should be able to better consider relative costs in assessing the extent 

to which it should continue to rely on the use of support service contracts." ~ 

The GAO reports did not go the whole route and conclude that support 

contracts as such were illegal. But following its review of six Goddard contracts, 

GAO turned them over to CSC for further study. And it was the CSC decision, 

based on a study of two of these contracts, that NASA's use of contractor personnel 

was illegal. This decision, handed down in October 1967 by General Counsel Leo 

Pellerzi, threatened NASA with serious disruption at a time when it was already 

reducing its own work force. Pellerzi ruled that the contracts were illegal because 

they involved on-site performance by contractors, because they set up an 

employer-employee relation between Government and contractor personnel, and 

*These were aggregate percentages. On Marshall's contract for servicing its Computation Laboratory, the 

report estimated savings of up to 27 percent. 

129 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

because "contract personnel are performing the regular work of the agency ..

seems clear that what Goddard has done in this situation is to create fe

positions." 54 The question then was not whether NASA would have to la

contractor personnel, only how soon. 

Coming on the heels of the GAO report, the Pellerzi decision was enorm

troubling to NASA officials. Yet neither had any dramatic effect-not im

ately, anyway. On the eve of the Pellerzi decision, NASA employment was 

more than 100 000 from what it had been at the beginning of 1966. Further

the practice of support contracting was so widespread, in DOD as in NASA

it was unrealistic to suppose that it could have been eliminated. In any case, ne

CSC, GAO, nor the Bureau of the Budget wanted to force a showdown. Ra

they began to work with the Office of Organization and Management, w

became NASA's liaison with these agencies, to hammer out a uniform poli

support contracts. Between the ·announcement of the Pellerzi decision an

spring of 1968, Finger issued guidelines that, taken together, signaled a mo

bring such contracts under much tighter central control. No function then 

formed by civil servants could be converted to contract, all new support con

and extensions of old ones over $100 000 had to be approved in advance by F

requests for contract approval would have to include cost comparisons f

functions where cost was a consideration in contracting for services, and s

contracts were to be limited to one year. Also, support contract manpower w

be reduced at a rate at least twice as great as that for Government emplo

These guidelines were in addition to a joint study that NASA conducted 

CSC, GAO, and the Bureau of the Budget to develop a mutually acceptabl

model for support services. The issue was so fraught with uncertainty that N

had perforce to remain in a holding pattern until clear Government-wide s

ards could be brought into play.55 

In fact, it is surprising that so much sound and fury should have led to 

inconclusive, short-term results. NASA developed tighter central control and 

·steps to provide for periodic recompetition of such contracts. As for the re

that led to the GAO reports and the Pellerzi decision, the outcome was n

simple nor final. After more than a year of negotiations, NASA announced 

end of 1968 that it would convert 810 contractor positions at Goddard to 

service status.5'' At KSC, NASA modified certain practices in contracting fo

protection and photographic support, as recommended by GAO. 57 The c

consolidated its photographic work with that done at the Air Force Eastern 

Range, reduced the expenses involved in having its prime support cont

(Trans-World Airlines) subcontract for guard and fire protection service, an

KSC and Marshall) consolidated many engineering support contracts into 

master contracts. The result of all the pressure from GAO and CSC wa

NASA developed more rigorous costing standards and, in general, used 

contracts much more selectively. But as long as NASA was committed to spe

most of its procurement dollars in the private sector, support contracts w

remain essential to the conduct of its operations. 

130 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

In the long run, NASA's view of its authority to enter into support service 

contracts prevailed in the Federal courts. When NASA ordered a reduction in 

force at Marshall in 1967 (seep. 134), a Federal district court found twenty-two 

support service contracts invalid and declared the RIF null and void. This led to 

an eleven-year legal battle between NASA and the American Federation of 

Government Employees, which ended in October 1978 when the U.S. Supreme 

Court refused to hear a challenge to a decision by the U.S. Court of Appeals for 

the District of Columbia reversing the 1967 decision. In its decision the court of 

appeals construed the Space Act broadly to give the agency maximum flexibility 

in contracting for and administering support services. The implications, not only 

for NASA but for other Government agencies, are immense. NASA's position, 

that Federal agencies have open-ended authority to contract for services, has been 

sustained; and it now seems that these agencies will use their contract authority 

to circumvent any hiring freezes imposed by the White House. 

However, in the summer of 1967 this outcome was more than a decade away. 

NASA officials faced the immediate prospect of defending the agency on two 

fronts. Not only did they have to justify support contracts to a Congress that was 

increasingly sceptical about their current use and future necessity, they had to 

justify their in-house personnel management as well. The Hjornevik report had 

made several recommendations, but it had been an in-house report. Although 

management authorized followup studies and began to implement some recommendations in piecemeal fashion, there was not the same urgency that would have 

resulted from a review by an outside body. This was precisely what befell NASA 

when CSC submitted its "Evaluation of Personnel Management" to Webb in 

October 1967. The Commission's earlier review of NASA in 1962 had disclosed 

certain deficiencies-in merit promotion, position classification, and lack of 

definite agencywide policies-but that report itself had not been made public. The 

Commission, it seems, was prepared to make allowances for a new agency assigned an enormously demanding mission. Consequently, CSC seems to have 

given NASA the benefit of the doubt.5K 

The 1967 report went further in identifying the successes and failures of 

NASA personnel management. It gave NASA credit for progress in many areas 

since 1962, notably in recruiting outstanding research and engineering personnel. 

But the report pointed to four problem areas that NASA would have to set in 

order. The first problem was that many supervisors did not understand their 

personnel management responsibilities in areas such as merit promotion and 

employee-management cooperation. The second problem was that "employees are 

uninformed about and lack confidence in ... personnel practices such as merit 

promotion, career development, and position classification that operate differently 

than described in NASA publications and include criteria which have never been 

called to their attention." 5" The third problem was the lack of management 

support for equal opportunity programs or for increased hiring of women; the 

fourth problem was the lack of headquarters leadership in areas such as supervisory training and promotions. 

131 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

This kind of outside review placed NASA in an awkward position. W

NASA officials criticized the conclusions as too sweeping, they conceded priv

that the report was correct in many details. As head of the agency, Webb h

hold a middle·ground-accepting the thrust of the report without alienating c

directors and program managers. esc, he argued, did not "wish to be pu

in their reports unless it is absolutely essential." If NASA could develo

effective personnel management program during the next five years, esc 

gladly forget the sins of the past." What bothered him more than the report 

was the role that CSC was assuming. Instead of "detailed policing of a

personnel matters," CSC's role should have been one of "promulgating 

policies and then auditing the agencies to assure that these policies are pro

carried out."(,o NASA had to convince CSC-and Congress-that it too

problems seriously and was doing something to correct them. 

The first and principal step was Webb's establishment of a Personnel 

agement Review Committee on 21 November 196 7. * There is good reas

stress the importance of this step. Unlike a flight program, which usually 

definite beginning and end, personnel management is a continuing functio

be effective, a review panel must be a standing committee whose members 

a stake in the matters they are inspecting. Through the Committee NASA 

agement tried to shift from "policies" to "policy" and to end the lack of c

nation between headquarters and the centers. In 1968, for example, there 

installations with high separation and low accession rates (Ames, MSC), 

separation and high accession rates (Electronics Research Center, headquar

and low accession and low separation rates (Langley, Lewis) >~ The problem 

to create an agencywide personnel management policy without imposing a s

ous uniformity. 

The Personnel Management Review Committee was charged to r

NASA's personnel management process, identify problems, and "recomme

the Administrator any changes considered appropriate ... and provide fee

to the Administrator as to the efficiency of . . . policies and practices throu

NASA "(' ~ Authority of the standing committee cut across the normal pro

and functional lines. Its immediate business was to respond to the esc repor

over the next two years it carried out a very thorough survey of the age

personnel structure. To Webb, the Committee was something more. It wa

piece with the other management changes he made to bring problems 

attention: the creation of the NASA Management Council, the revival of the O

of Management Development to prepare agency management issuances, an

establishment of a group to develop a catalogue of agency policies. Webb 

*It was formally established by NMI 1152.26 (3 Jan. 1968). The chairman was Harry Gorman (

Director, Administrative, at Marshall), who had served on the Hjornevik Committee. Other membe

Grove Webster, NASA Director of Personnel; Bernard Moritz, Assistant Administrator for Special Co

Negotiation and Review; and John Townsend, Deputy Director of Goddard. 

132 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

especially anxious to bring in R&D managers from the centers for a tour of duty 

with the Committee to give them an overall view of the agency. 

What did the Committee accomplish? Merely by its establishment, Webb 

advertised the importance he attached to personnel management. And by recruiting managers from the centers to serve on the Committee, he hoped to bring 

about a consensus in favor of uniform policy-a consensus not to be achieved by 

executive fiat. The Committee began its work by visiting six centers and talking 

to key functional and program officials, discussions that were to be the basis of the 

Committee's April 1968 report. In the report the Committee agreed with CSC's 

analysis to the extent that "its conclusions can . .. be supported by a careful and 

sometimes isolated selection of substandard performance cited in one ... of the 

individual NASA installation reports." 63 But the Committee denied that what 

might hold for one center in one area could be extended to the whole of NASA. 

Instead, the report recommended certain steps that, applied over the long term, 

would tend to bring NASA more into line with CSC demands. The Committee 

found that personnel management needed to be made visible at the headquarters 

level, and it recommended that the function "be elevated organizationally" within 

Finger's office.''

4 It also recommended that NASA continue to review its use of 

support service contracts and to define precisely what such a contract was; that 

NASA adopt a ranking system, which would enable the agency to retain the top 

25 percent of its professional staff in the event of a reduction in force; that NASA 

lower entrance-level standards in certain cases to recruit minority employees; and 

that more attention be given to improving employee-management relations. 65 

Finally, the members recommended that the Committee be continued in order to 

effect "greater involvement of top officials in personnel management." ''1

' 

This last phrase explains why the Committee was relatively successful. It 

was not a panel of outside consultants with no responsibility for the problems on 

its agenda. By bringing in officials from the centers and by staggering Committee 

appointments, a nice balance was struck between the two bureaucratic conceptsof flexibility and continuity. The Committee worked closely with Finger and 

Webster, the latter of whom was a member ex officio. It established subcommittees 

to tackle such problems as career trainee programs and reductions in force. Its 

blend of line and functional officials was in keeping with the agency's way of 

getting things done; that is, it provided for maximum delegation of powers to 

officials who would have to carry out the policies they helped to make. 

PERSONNEL RETRENCHMENTS, 1967-1969 

Ultimately, the issues of personnel management were those of long-range 

planning. But in 1967 NASA had no formal agencywide long-range plan. Without it, NASA could produce no justification for keeping agency manpower at the 

30 000-plus level, where it had been since 1963. Webb believed that an agency 

had to be able to phase down as well as to "tool up." One week before he left 

NASA in 1968, he delivered the Diebold Lecture at Harvard and said that 

133 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

in the project-type endeavor, acceleration would have to be followed by deceleration an

many operations involving both governmental and nongovernmental manpower and fac

would have only a limited usefulness. We have accepted the need to end these after 

purposes have been met . ... 

We have already . .. reduced the scale of our total activities to about one-half the peak 

which was attained three years ago .... We are in a position to operate at this level 

increase or decrease as decisions generate either trend.67 

But the phasedown was neither as orderly nor as well planned as this sta

would indicate. The dismissals and hiring freezes that began in FY 1968 s

a reduction in manpower that continued well into the 1970s. The red

shaped and were shaped by the absence of some long-range plan for N

place before Congress. The initial reductions did not merely have a rippl

on the NASA work force; they also set the terms on which future progr

approved, would have to be carried out. 

The reductions in permanent civil service employees (FY 1968-19

shown in table 5-S. However, the figures conceal the variations between 

where there was no single pattern of accessions and separations. Rath

discuss them all, it is more useful to concentrate on one center to understan

a reduction in force is, how it worked at NASA in the late 1960s, how the 

adjusted to its losses, and how skills lost in one area might (or might 

replaced in another. 

Except for the Electronics Research Center, which closed on 30 Jun

no center was more severely affected by manpower reductions than M

Mention was made earlier of the "Marshall problem"-the widely held con

that there was a manpower surplus at Huntsville that might be tapped by 

of NASA. By 1966 Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight M

was reducing manpower at Marshall in order to increase it at MSC and K

still remain within his personnel ceiling. c.x At the same time a debate wa

on within OMSF on the future of Marshall, a debate hinted at in the Hj

report.

6 ' ' Basically, MSC officials wanted Marshall to develop the new 

systems that they believed would be needed for manned missions in the 

Marshall officials disagreed, feeling c~mstrained by their lack of manpo

advanced research, compared with that for hardware development and 

Further, Lewis had already staked out a role in advanced propulsion tech

that Marshall could not expect to emulate. In short, Marshall had to co

three closely related problems: commitment to a program that was about t

off, a high proportion of facilities designed to serve specific programs rath

institutional needs, and what was perceived at Houston, the Cape, and hea

ters as an excess of manpower in relation to future assignments. 

At the end of October 1967 it became apparent that Marshall would 

reduce its manpower considerably. Congress passed and the President sig

appropriations bill that eliminated the Voyager and Advanced Missio

grams, reduced most other non-Apollo programs, and cut back the admini

operations appropriations request by $43.3 million. This meant that M

134 
Installation Peak Employment Change Actual Chan

7/ 31 / 67 in FY 1968 6/ 30/ 68 in FY 

Headquarters (including NASA 

Pasadena Office) 2 332 -178 2 154 -6

Kennedy 2 739 +178 2 917 -4

Manned 4 862 -258 4 604 -22

Marshall 7 272 -832 6 440 -29

OMSF 14 873 -912 13 961 -55

Ames 2 176 -93 2 083 -9

Electronics 738 +56 794 +

Flight 598 -32 566 -2

Langley 4 251 -214 4 037 -12

Lewis 4 703 -251 4 452 -18

SNPO' 115 -7 108 -

OART 12 581 -541 12 040 -42

Goddard: 

Base 3 828 -133 3 695 -16

Contractor conversion - +127 127 +47

Wallops 512 -18 494 -t

OSSA 4 340 -24 4 316 +29

Undistributed reduction - - 

NASA 34 126 -1 655 32 471 -73

Recapitulation: 

Base 34 126 -1 782 32 344 -1 21

Contractor converston2 - +127 127 +47

- 

VJ 

U1 

' Space Nuclear Propulsion Office. 

2 Contractor conversions are treated as decreases in NASA employment. 

Source: Thomas 0 . Paine to Robert P. Mayo, Director, U.S. Bureau of the Budget, 18 Aug. 1969, ta
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

would have to reduce its personnel by 700, a move that was successfully challe

in the Federal courts by the American Federation of Government Employ

When the injunction against the RIF was lifted in April 1968, the careful p

down planned by center officials was no longer possible. The RIF procedur

to an extremely high turnover of personnel, even of those who were not aff

directly. The turnover of R&D personnel was three times higher than it had 

at the same time in 1967. And those losses were especially heavy amon

younger scientists and engineers, possibly because there were job opportunit

the Huntsville Arsenal nearby. The worst effect of the RIF, as it appeared t

Braun, was that it disrupted work teams that had taken years to develop.70 

damage wrought by such procedures reached beyond their short-term effe

more profound second- and third-order consequences. Managers and superv

were "bumped" into nonsupervisory positions and found themselves "relega

the ranks of the workers they [had] been supervising." 7 1 The average a

employees rose as younger people were dismissed or left to seek work elsew

And as the average age of scientists and engineers rose, it became much less 

that the advanced research then taught at the universities would be reflect

NASA laboratories.72 

In sum, RIFs and hiring freezes affected the NASA centers in many 

some were obvious and immediate, and others were more subtle, although 

long run even more devastating. On the whole, NASA was unable to imple

the orderly phasedown that Webb described in the Diebold Lecture. It w

much to ask NASA or any other agency to make unilateral reductions in fu

and manpower. But in the name of economy, the Great Society, and the w

Vietnam, the Bureau of the Budget turned what might have been an o

retreat into something resembling a rout. Between NASA's peak (in-house

ployment in July 1967 and the end of FY 1969, NASA abolished 2850 perm

positions. In the FY 1970 budget cycle alone, the agency sustainedfour sep

reductions: initially 370 positions were abolished; under pressure from the B

of the Budget that number escalated to 452, then to 552, and finally to 

positions.73 These gross figures only hint at the consequences of continued 

scale reductions. First, NASA was given very limited authority to replace pe

nel who had been separated. In FY 1968 NASA replaced only one out o

separated and in 1969 about two out of five. At some centers the replac

ratios were much smaller: one in five at Langley, one in fourteen at Marsh

By 1969 the "critical mass" at these centers was getting dangerously low. At 

there was no longer "any remaining flexibility to take reductions in 

power .... Any pro rata share of manpower reduction at Ames appears imp

in view of the small size of that installatian." 7 5 

• A former NASA official observed that Marshall officials "carried out a rather extensive modeling 

by means of computers in which they attempted to take into account the bumping rights of the Civil 

personnel. In this way they hoped to carry out their reductions in force at the designated levels and at t

time separate those individuals who were felt to be the least qualified. Since a shift of one individual 

involves three or four job changes in an organization, this effort was complex indeed." 

136 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

Second, the effects of mass separations went far beyond the number of those 

actually dismissed. The long-range consequences included the departure of many 

younger professionals to look for greater job security and the concomitant rise in 

the average age of those who remained; a sharp drop in the number of college 

students hired from 925 in FY 1966 to less than 200 four years later;76 and a rise 

in Federal·employee union membership, especially at Marshall and MSC. The 

success of the American Federation of Government Employees (AFGE) in temporarily blocking the RIF imposed on Marshall convinced many employees that 

AFGE might be able in 1969 to repeat what it had done in 1968. In the long term, 

center officials had to deal with unions that were a good deal larger, more militant, 

and better organized than in the halcyon days of the space program. The actual 

number of persons separated might be only a fraction of the work force, but the 

ripple effect touched every center employee. As an internal MSC report observed, 

A RIF is a symbol to all employees that the Center or the Agency have serious problems .... Although by far the vast majority of employees ... were not in any way touched 

by the proposed RIF, many of them 'viewed it as another symptom of an uncertain future. It 

should be pointed out, however, that the RIF did not create uncertainties, it merely reinforced 

them.

77 

Finally, this pattern of reductions and low replacement rates seems to have 

convinced top management that agency manpower must be defended and justified 

as a national asset. If all these skills had been assembled simply to get a job done, 

there was no cause for complaint if they were to be dispersed once that job was 

completed. Obviously, this was not how Webb, Paine, or Finger viewed the 

agency. In principle, they conceded that a "less-than-best" laboratory might be 

closed if it had served its initial purpose, if there was no likelihood that a new role 

for the laboratory could be found, or if closing the laboratory would not leave a 

significant gap in the national capability to perform R&D. But, they maintained, 

there was no reason why a center with a capacity for research in aeronautics or 

propulsion systems could not expand to cross-service other Government agencies, 

· as NASA had been doing for DOD for many years. Furthermore, the centers were 

more flexible than was generally realized. At Lewis, for example, the altitude 

wind tunnel used to test the B-29 during World War II had been converted into 

a space environmental test facility during the 1960s. The same center shifted 

emphasis and manpower from propulsion systems to aeronautics following the 

cutbacks of 196 7-1968. Even Marshall had been able to make the transition from 

one kind of development work to another; the Apollo Telescope Mount, assigned 

to the center in the summer of 1966, was very different from the launch vehicle 

development work for which Marshall was known.

78 

With no coordinating agency or advisory body to establish national priorities 

for the use of scientific manpower, the issue of which agencies were allocated such 

manpower had to be fought out in the political arena. This had been the case even 

during the relatively prosperous days of Presidents Eisenhower and Kennedy, 

when Presidential advisors like Killian and Wiesner had the power to make 

137 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

science policy rather than serve as more-or-less neutral umpires among com

agencies. By 1970 research priorities were established almost exclusively b

President working through the Bureau of the Budget. NASA priorities h

compete not only with other scientific priorities but with the priorities of 

Federal programs generally. And such a process could only be inimical 

long-term interests of NASA R&D programs. 

SOME CONCLUSIONS 

This chapter has examined some of the reasons for NASA's succes

well as its problems-in attracting the mixture of scientific, engineering

managerial talent that it needed. NASA's success was neither complete no

manent, but it was adequate to the need. NASA in the 1960s had the k

mission that attracted some of the best engineers in the country; it had a 

block of excepted and nonquota positions, which the Administrator consc

used to structure the agency; and it was given an initial period of grace by 

to work out its manpower policies to fit its programs. But none of these 

would have availed much without the continued interest of top managem

recruit the best talent from outside, ensure rapid promotion for those withi

involve the most capable engineers and project managers in running the a

Management's interest in personnel matters can be illustrated by the history 

NASA Management Committee from October 1963, when it was establish

November 1965, when Seamans dissolved it. Of the sixty-six meetings held 

Committee, two-thirds had at least one personnel item on the agenda, ra

from the use of military detailees, to a consideration of employee-manag

relations at the centers, to security waivers for summer employees.

79 

This interest in personnel policy revealed itself differently at the level 

management, at the program offices, and at the centers. Webb's interest ce

on selecting the best men for executive training. During the early 1960s h

perforce to find executives on the outside, and there was always a need 

certain positions with men who had not come up within the agency. It w

practice to appoint a retired military officer to head the Office of Defense A

and a former aerospace executive to direct Industry Affairs; also, Webb 

self-imposed rule that appointments to "sensitive" positions, such as Ass

Administrator for Manned Space Flight, were to be cleared with DOD.80 B

1965 NASA employment had stabilized and was not likely to increase. It w

longer necessary to go outside for the scarce talent the NASA mission req

For Webb the problem, rather, was to find and train the managers who wou

the agency in the post-Apollo period. The problem had to be approached f

number of angles: by assigning project managers to headquarters for a t

duty; by establishing in 1965 an executive recruiting service or talent ba

selecting NASA personnel to fill key positions; and by moving top officials 

138 
NASA MANPOWER POLICY 

headquarters to the centers, as when Edgar Cortright, then Deputy Associate 

Administrator (OMSF), became the Director of Langley in May 1968. 

The program offices and centers had the same interest in personnel management but a different focus. At OSSA, for instance, program officials singled out 

three problems as critical: How could OSSA eliminate people who were not 

performing as they should? How could program officials recruit an adequate 

number of scientists who could stay in touch with their fields while working for 

NASA, particularly in headquarters? What should be the relation of the headquarters program manager to the field project manager, and by what standards 

should the performance of the former be measured?81 The same issues applied to 

the other program offices and the centers that reported to them. They had their 

own problems, their own management and reporting systems, and their own ideas 

as to what successful personnel management involved. Webb and Seamans looked 

to uniform agencywide standards; the program associate administrators and center directors were sceptical of them. In effect, this is what the history of NASA 

personnel policy reveals: The agency was too decentralized for tight headquarters 

control of personnel management; such consensus as there was-for example, 

regarding personnel data banks or shifting manpower between centers-was 

arrived at· through standing committees like the Personnel Management Review 

Committee or the task force that wrote the Hjornevik report; and major shifts of 

work or manpower from one center to another could only occur gradually, if 

indeed they could occur at all. Finally, personnel management was not, nor could 

it -be, a discrete, isolated area apart from the broad policy issues that NASA 

management faced. How to recruit and train engineers, how to determine the mix 

of skills at each center, how to turn engineers and scientists into administratorsthese were the essence of NASA program planning. 

139 

Chapter 6 

Program Planning and Authorization 

PREREQUISITES FOR SUCCESSFUL PLANNING 

Be it Government agency or private firm, every large organization must be able 

to plan in order to act. Planning implies that there is an authority to decide 

what is to be done, how, by whom, and over what period of time. Confusion easily 

results from a failure to specify the sort of planning that is being discussed and 

whether it is for the short-term, intermediate, or long-term future. The annual 

budget submission of a Federal agency is a short-term planning exercise of sorts, 

since it involves projecting the agency's needs against what the Office of Management and Budget and Congress are likely to authorize. At the other extreme are 

those grandiose ten-to-twenty-year projections of what an agency or corporation 

might undertake if and when resources become available. 

This chapter is about how NASA planned and authorized its intermediaterange programs (the logical, not necessarily the chronological sequence): the 

missions that were flown, the systems that were developed, and the aeronautical 

research concepts that were proved by test models. These were the programs with 

lead times of five to ;even years, most of which were conceived between 1958 and 

1961 and which were accomplished during the following decade. The emphasis 

then is less on review than on program approval, although it must be added that 

any distinction between planning, approval, and management review is inherently 

artificial, since all are part of a single process. The same procurement plan that 

was the basis of a request for proposal also represented a step in project definition. 

Moreover, planning was seldom complete at any stage in the life of a project up 

to actual hardware development, if then. Major research and development projects 

were always liable to change; examples include weight reductions in Surveyor, 

elimination of the Gemini paraglider, postfire modifications of the Apollo spacecraft, and extensions in the firing time of the J -2 engine. The separation of 

predevelopment from development planning in this chapter is mostly one of 

convemence. 

141 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

The thesis of this chapter is that NASA had many of the prerequisites 

successful intermediate-range planning. Planning for the medium term is 

terminous with the earlier stages of the NASA "programming" function: the p

ess of formulating proposed missions; reviewing and approving such propo

and committing the resources to implement them; monitoring progress; and re

justing goals, missions, and resource allocations. Why and how was NASA 

to develop a medium-range programming structure? First, NASA planning 

emphatically not a series of forecasts; it was a course of action, an attempt to m

things happen, almost after the fashion of business planning. NASA plans ser

as bases for current decisions. Second, at least one program office during 

1960s-the Office of Advanced Research and Technology-engaged in defen

research, which aimed not at a breakthrough but at staying abreast of the la

technology. NASA management felt it disadvantageous to link research too clo

to current operations. As James Webb explained to one Congressman," ... 

definitely not our policy to demand a mission requirement as justification for 

expenditure of development funds .... If we are to feel sufficiently free to init

this kind of program in the first place, we must not expect each developmen

find a mission use, nor restrict ourselves by a policy that would require e

program to be carried to a full demonstration." 1 In this view, defensive rese

was amply justified if it highlighted possibilities for future projects, if it identi

a new spectrum of technologies, if it fed into existing programs as suppor

research and technology, or if it assisted agencies like the Federal Aviation Age

in meeting requirements-for example, in understanding the physical phenom

associated with sonic boom and turbine noise. The Office of Advanced Rese

and Technology was effectively charged with preparing a shelf of research 

grams, only some of which would lead to improved flight hardware. The ot

would define the state of the art against which future missions would press

Third, the NASA organization had one division during the mid-1960s, 

Office of Programming, that could provide management with independent t

nical advice. The importance of this small office was out of proportion to its 

owing to the combination of fiscal and technical review in the same office utltil 

1967 reorganization and to the expertise of the staff, many of whom (like 

Marquis Wyatt, William Fleming, and Bernard Maggin) had worked n 

Silverstein's Office of Space Flight Programs before transferring to Deputy 

ministrator Seamans' staff. Until 1967 the Office of Programming was prob

the closest thing NASA had to a central planning staff. By its functions of rev

project authorization, and development of cost models for flight programs, it 

much to ensure that NASA had a single, coherent program. 

Fourth, planning was made easier because the main bottlenecks were o

technical and fiscal. The problems that dogged Apollo and Gemini were p

cipally of this kind: Has it been properly tested? Will it fly? How can 

spacecraft be integrated with the launch vehicle? Indeed, most NASA progr

in the 1960s were undertaken when circumstances had made them technicaHy 

and when the principal constraints were either the higher priority of other 

142 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

grams (say, Apollo in relation to the Orbiting Observatories) or lack of funding. 

Thus, NASA's planning problems were minimized considerably by the lack of 

institutional constraints. But it is in applications and, above all, in aeronautics that 

such constraints made themselves felt. NASA's aeronautical programs have usually been planned to support R&D in the civil aviation industry and in the 

Department of Transportation (DOT). And the problems in aeronautical R&D 

are not primarily technological at all. As a joint DOT-NASA study noted, 

"Technological advances are subject to a variety of institutional constraints which 

can be categorized as regulatory and legal, market and financial, attitudinal and 

social and organizational." 2 Problems such as aircraft noise, congestion in and 

around airports, and the feasibility of low-density, short-haul service cannot be 

treated solely as technological limitations, as NASA managers treated their space 

programs. 

Finally, the organization of the program offices (and to a smaller extent, the 

centers) explicitly recognized the interdependence of NASA programming. The 

1961 and 1963 reorganizations attempted to group the centers in related fashion. 

An obvious example of the connectedness of NASA programming has been the 

authorization and construction of facilities in advance of the programs they were 

intended to support. Consider, for example, the role of the Office of Tracking and 

Data Acquisition, whose mission was almost entirely one of supporting the other 

program offices. Tracking stations had to be built; radio antennas had to be 

designed to cope with the extremely weak signals transmitted by deep-space 

probes; continuous coverage had to be available for spacecraft in highly elliptical 

and synchronous orbits; and some means had to be devised to handle the everincreasing rates of data transmitted by such advanced spacecraft as Mariner 9, 

Viking, and eventually, the space shuttle. These capabilities had to be available 

when needed, and it is a tribute to NASA programming that they were. 

Equally important to the success of NASA planning, the agency had to create 

mechanisms for "cross-servicing," by which a center reporting to one program 

office c<;mld work for another.* This presupposed that some centers already had 

a high proportion of "institutional" facilities, like the wind tunnels at Langley and 

Ames and the data processing equipment at Goddard, that could be used by more 

than one center (or agency) for more than one program. Cross-servicing cut across 

but did not negate the equally important concept that each project, except for 

Apollo, should be lodged in a lead center with responsibility for overall coordination. The official position was that each center had its mission within the total 

NASA mission and that the agency's objectives were "not amenable to clear and 

easy separation one. from the other. ... the view that the agency program 

and ... resources are each to be managed in total provides significantly greater 

flexibility to ... agency management than would otherwise be the case." 3 

• Ea~~ NASA installation reported to a designated program office from 1963 to 1974, when they were all 

placed, for administrative purposes, under an Associate Administrator for Center Operations. 

143 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

These elements of the NASA organization-especially the establishme

a central office for technical review, the interdependence of agency programs

long lead times characteristic of R&D missions, the relative lack of nontechn

constraints-encouraged the agency to plan. But they neither forced nor dic

the actual structure of NASA programming.* The remainder of this cha

examines the NASA program planning structure, first by considering the a

cywide guidelines for review and authorization, and then by taking a closer 

at the planning philosophies of the four program offices: Tracking and D

Acquisition (OTDA), Advanced Research and Technology (OART), Space 

ence and Applications (OSSA), and Manned Space Flight (OMSF). 

PROGRAM REVIEW 

Chapter 3 includes an account of the Office of Programming that exam

the need for an independent staff arm in the Associate Administrator's office

studies of February-April 1961 conducted by Young, Siepert, and Hodgson

establishment of an Office of Programs under Wyatt before the November r

ganization; and the subsequent creation of a Planning Review Panel to coord

the agency's advanced studies programs. This chapter offers a fuller accou

Wyatt's office in operation, what it did, and how it did it. The number of func

within the office kept shifting; some, like responsibility for publishing the mat

presented at program reviews or for coordinating facilities planning, were tr

ferred elsewhere.t But three divisions in particular were the core of the NA

programming function: Resources Analysis, Budget Operations, and Prog

Review. The first was responsible for "the overall review and assessment o

planned and actual utilization of all resources available to the Agency and fo

development ... of improved ... evaluation-validation techniques for all N

appropriation categories." The Budget Operations Division implemented all 

gramming decisions approved by the Associate Administrator and was cha

with submitting all budgetary data to the Bureau of the Budget and the Congr

But it is the Program Review Division from 1961-1967 that is ef 

concern. Director William Fleming was one of the key officials in the aut

ization process. As head of the Planning Review Panel, he coordinated adva

studies with the program offices; as a representative to the Aeronautics 

Astronautics Coordinating Board, he coordinated NASA facilities planning 

that of DOD; and as head of Program Review, he reviewed and approved pr

proposals under all three appropriation accounts (research and developm

administrative operations, construction of facilities) before sending them 

• Note the difference between budget formulation and programming. The former represents NASA 

outward to the executive branch and the Congress; the latter involves internal debate and review of agency 

t Responsibility for preparing Seamans' program reviews and for publishing their results was assigned 

executive secretariat in December 1965. The Office of Programming's Facilities Standards Division 'Y·as 

ferred to the Facilities Management Office (Office of Industry Affairs), also established in December 196

144 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

Seamans. Once signed, each proposal became a project approval document 

(PAD)"; which authorized the program office and its field installations to proceed 

and to let.contracts; the PAD approved, in principle, the scope of the project and 

the means for getting the work done. 

Only in the last analysis was the authority vested in Wyatt's office the 

authority to say no. Typically, a proposal would be revised, modified, and discussed until something acceptable to both sides emerged. Fleming's division had 

to be an independent source of technical advice to Seamans, while maintaining the 

confidence of the program offices in its objectivity and technical competence. 

Furthermore, the kind of review conducted in Fleming's office was not entirely, 

or even mainly, concerned with the technical soundness of proposals. It could be 

assumed, for one thing, that the program offices knew their business. Instead, the 

Program Review staff asked such questions as the following: How does this fit in 

with the agency program? Does it duplicate facilities? Are schedules realistic? 

Can the cost estimates for the project be validated? Was a "Huntsville proposal" 

a proposal of the Marshall center or "a Huntsville contractor proposal that had 

flowed through" Marshall ?5 

Let us examine two cases of the review process in action: the first involved 

a proposal to build a fluid mechanics laboratory at Marshall; the second, a 

proposal to continue funding a space science data center at Goddard. In the 

summer of 1964 Marshall requested that its proposal for a fluid mechanics 

laboratory, already refused by Seamans, be included in the FY 1966 budget.6 After 

a thorough review, Fleming approved the proposal.* He began by assuming three 

possible approaches to the request. Marshall could continue its arrangement of 

testing hardware in Lewis facilities; it could use the nearby Air Force facilities of 

the Arnold Engineering Development Center, with the Lewis facilities to be used 

only for final configuration testing; or it could develop test facilities at a new 

laboratory, with Lewis' supersonic wind tunnels again to be used only in the final 

testing. phase. In a sense the decision to be made was technical; a decision to 

proceed would represent Seamans' judgment that a new facility would not duplicate any other facility in NASA or DOD. But it was precisely for this reason that 

Marshall's first request had been denied: The Air Force had claimed an existing 

capaqjlity at the Arnold Engineering Development Center. If NASA proceeded to 

authofize the Marshall laboratory, Seamans and Fleming would be faced with 

reversing their original decision and justifying the warranted duplication of an 

existing facility. Just as important, the laboratory, if approved, could not possibly 

be built in time to support the early Saturn IB and Saturn V flights, which would 

have to be supported by facilities already in existence. Thus Marshall's proposal 

was twice vulnerable: Not only would it duplicate an existing facility, it would not 

be ready when needed. 

* It is Somewhat anticlimactic to note that the request for a fluid mechanics laboratory was eliminated in the 

Decemb ~ 1964 NASA-DOD Facilities Review. Here, the reasoning is more significant than the result. 

145 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Despite such persuasive reasons for refusing Marshall's request, Flem

argued that the justification for proceeding was even stronger. By authorizi

fluid mechanics laboratory, headquarters would give Marshall the same in .. h

competence in fluid mechanics as it already had in guidance and control sys

or in static testing engines and stages. Moreover, the desired competence in 

mechanics could be used to round out the center's launch vehicle developm

capability. Fleming conceded that such a laboratory would not be ready be

1969 at the earliest. But this, he argued, was precisely when the center woul

ready for a new launch vehicle development assignment. And unless construc

began well in advance of the assignment, it would be unavailable "for the 

liminary fluid mechanics test which plays an important role in the early de

and development phase of a launch vehicle stage." Once the proposed facility 

been completed, it might also reduce the amount of testing that Marshall requ

in the Lewis supersonic wind tunnels. The decision to approve the Mars

proposal was not made on narrowly technical grounds but rather on a con

eration of NASA-DOD relations, the need to strengthen in-house competen

a major development center, and a review of future programs for which the fac

might be needed. 

Similar considerations were involved in the decision to continue work on 

National Space Science Data Center, established at Goddard in April196

collect and maintain an inventory of data from sounding rockets and spacec

Unlike the Marshall proposal, the problem was not whether to approve 

concept in principle-that was already settled-but how to bring it in line 

other NASA policies. In November 1965 Fleming, after reviewing the pr

approval document submitted by OSSA for continue.d funding of the data ce

recommended that Seamans sign it. 7 Again, there were considerations other 

the technical feasibility of the data center concept itself. In his covering lett

approval, Seamans observed that "the ultimate development of a NASA S

Science Data Center has far reaching implications which become deeply invo

with agency policy." 11 From this letter and Fleming's staff paper on the i ub

it becomes apparent that these implications were broadly political. NASA ha

coordinate its policies for data exchange with those agencies that would pfo

be heavy users: DOD, the Commerce Department, the National Science Foun

tion, and the National Academy of Sciences. Within NASA, the program1of

would have to consult with each other. OSSA, the manager of the center 

have to consult with OMSF on the data obtained from manned flight and,ju

to OART the absence of facilities for storing and disseminating OART d

OSSA would also have to prepare a plan for development a!ld funding! o

center itself: the estimated workload from all NASA installations and oth~f! a

cies, the options for running the center efficiently, and the types of data to ~ st

and disseminated. In essence, the decision to go ahead with a space scient e 

center represented a fairly major policy statement. The considerations tha:t'F

ing had in mind in recommending continued approval impinged on NA

interagency relations, relations with the scientific community, and his percep

of the kinds of research the center was designed to support. r 

146 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

The two programming decisions were neither particularly large in relation 

to total agency resources nor particularly well known outside NASA. Yet a 

number of these decisions tended to shape the agency over the long term. The 

Office of Programming made the assumptions underlying such decisions explicit 

and presented the options available to top management. Needless to say, the policy 

considerations in relatively minor decisions were also present in more important 

ones, such as the decision to assign the management of a major project to this or 

that center. Consider the policy elements involved in assigning the management 

of the launch vehicle for the unmanned Voyager spacecraft designed to land on 

Mars. In December 1964 NASA issued a PAD for Voyager, assigning project 

management to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory QPL) and stipulating that the 

launch vehicle would be the Saturn IB/Centaur. This still left open the choice of 

prograqt office and center charged with launch vehicle management. A decision to 

assign responsibility to OSSA and the Lewis Research Center would give one 

result; a decision to assign it to OMSF and the Marshall Space Flight Center 

would give another. The advantage of going to Lewis was that the project would 

have a minimal impact on Apollo; of going to Marshall, that the responsibility for 

overall design and testing would be placed at a single center. In October 1965 

NASA officials reversed themselves and decided to use the Saturn V for Voyager. 

There were several reasons for this reversal, but the main one seems to have been 

the conviction of Marshall officials that "the Saturn V would relieve payload 

constraints ... and the launches were scheduled for the late 60s and 70s, just 

when Marshall's work for Apollo would be slackening off." 9 The Voyager decision suggests the complexity of NASA's program planning and indicates why a 

division like the Office of Programming was needed. 

ADVANCED STUDIES 

Ope category of decision, authorizing advanced studies, was peculiarly sensitive to ,nontechnical considerations. The Planning Review Panel was created in 

Octob~r 1963 to pass on study proposals, particularly but not exclusively those 

geneqt,ted internally. It is important to explain just what these studies were and 

why fAey were such a headache for top management. 

By definition, an advanced study pertained to "flight missions beyond those 

currently approved or studies of as yet unapproved spacecraft, launch vehicle, or 

aircraft systems that may lead toward such future flight missions or studies 

leading to significant changes on an already approved configuration of spacecraft 

and la¥och vehicles." 10 So broad a definition could encompass almost any kind of 

study, and the results of an advanced study or even the decision to authorize one 

could Mtvolve NASA management in various difficulties. 11 Such studies were not 

partiaUrlarly expensive; although OMSF received $20.3 million in FY 1965 for 

studi~;.-of advanced manned missions, the annual cost to the program offices for 

adval\sed studies was normally in the hundreds of thousands rather than in the 

millions of dollars.12 The difficulties alluded to were of a different sort. For ex147 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

ample, if a program office let a study contract, there was danger that the contra

would be in a particularly favorable position to win the contract that might re

for flight hardware. Short of banning study contractors from bidding on hardw

NASA could resolve the issue either by making the results of a study cont

available to all prospective bidders or by letting multiple study contracts, eithe

parallel efforts or to consider separate aspects within orie study program. 1 J As w

in-house studies, every proposal for a contractor study first had to be reviewe

Fleming's office before it was sent to Seamans, with a recommendation to s

reject, or keep on the back burner. 

A much more serious problem was that the award of or even the annou

ment of a study contract seemed to commit NASA prematurely to certain 

grams. The decision to authorize a manned space station study was construe

Congress as an attempt by NASA to present it with an accomplished fact. Ind

it was to fend off such suspicions that the Planning Review Panel was establi

in the first place. Webb specifically asked Seamans to prevent studies from g

ahead without his knowledge and causing trouble for him on Capitol Hi

Judging by subsequent events, even this was not enough. In July 1967 

Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC) issued invitations to twenty-eight firms to 

on a study of a manned Mars and Venus flyby in 197 5 and 1977. MSC could 

have picked a worse moment to announce such a contract, and the request ha

be withdrawn. At an August meeting to discuss the NASA budget, Webb c

plained of rumors that 

people at Huntsville and other places ... say they'd like to keep the image before the count

that somehow man is going to go to Mars and Venus. But I do think that the image of NASA

when we're fighting for our lives here in the major programs ought to be one of controllin

those things, or at least not make them a major matter of publicity on the theory that mayb

they will elicit support ... . it just seems to me that this is not the right atmosphere to b

emphasizing that or having people say that if we just cut out that kind of money we cou

get along better, therefore . .. cut 10 percent off our budget, which is what the tendency 

Congress is. 15 

Five weeks later Voyager was canceled; it was eliminated in conference by the 

gressional appropriations subcommittees that approved NASA funds, partl

seems, because the committee members believed that the unmanned proj e~t 

a first step toward a manned voyage to Mars. 16 What applied to approved roj

could be said to apply with undiminished force to advanced studies. They w

essential building blocks for agency planning, but without some kind of cob d

tion-with Seamans, Fleming, Wyatt, and the heads of the program offices

other element was more likely to be misunderstood. · 

Another difficulty in preparing advanced studies was the potential co fli

bureaucracies. That conflict might be internal, for example, OSSA and OM

competing for the right to carry out studies on manned space stations. 17 Or i 1ru

be NASA in jurisdictional conflicts with DOD, whose interest in space ~lat

overlapped that of NASA. The issue surfaced in 1963 and involved three is

questions: Were advanced studies included in the Webb-Gilpatric and Cem

148 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

agreements, by which NASA and DOD agreed not to undertake major spacecraft 

or launch vehicle development without first seeking the , approval of the other 

agency? How far did existing study programs duplicate each other? If the President approved a manned space station for the military, what role would NASA 

have in supporting the program? At a meeting of the Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating Board Manned Space Flight Panel in March 1963, the 

cochairmen requested the panel to make recommendations for NASA-DOD coordination in this area. 18 NASA's rationale for a space station was straightforward. 

First, "men and equipment had to be tested for long duration in the weightlessness 

of space, looking toward the time when trips would be taken into outer space and 

the planets. Second, a space station would be an ideal scientific laboratory in 

which to conduct . . . research into the basic physical and chemical characteristi_cs 

of matter in space. Third, it would be easier and cheaper to assemble components 

for launching planetary and celestial voyages in space rather than on earth." 19 In 

short, the space station concept was basic to NASA's post-Apollo planning. For 

DOD the military value of a manned space station was very much open to 

question-and a November 1963 study by the President's Science Advisory Committee did question it. 

NASA's positions in exchanges with DOD were that advanced studies were 

not covered by previous agreements, that a joint-concurrence approach would lead 

to delays that NASA was not prepared to accept, and that NASA could not accept 

an effective veto power by McNamara over its study programs. For his part, 

MeN amara tried to pressure Webb into signing draft agreements that he sent to 

NASA before the agency had the chance to study them. (According to the former 

Director of NASA's Office of Defense Affairs, this "was a gambit used more than 

once by Mr. McNamara.") 20 Twice he sent Webb signed agreements, and twice 

Webb refused to cosign. NASA was already proposing a $3.5 million study of a. 

Manned Orbital Research Laboratory; and while Webb was willing to "go more 

than half way" in meeting McNamara's requirements, he did not rule out unilateral action in case of disagreement.21 The NASA-DOD agreement of 14 September 1963 was at most a compromise. The draft agreement, prepared by the 

Office of Defense Affairs and signed by McNamara with reservations, provided 

that advanced studies on a manned station would be coordinated through the 

Aeronjiutics and Astronautics Coordinating Board; after joint evaluation studies 

Webband McNamara would make a recommendation to the President, including 

a recommendation as to which agency would direct the project; and if the President gave his approval, a NASA-DOD board would map out objectives and 

approve experiments. 

BtJt this agreement raised more questions than it answered. On 10 December 

1963 McNamara canceled the Dyna-Soar (X-20) orbital glider progam and 

annou11ced that he was assigning to the Air Force the development of a near-Earth 

Manned Orbiting Laboratory (MOL). DOD officials chose to regard MOL as 

someth ng other than a space station, hence not covered by the September agreement. rThe upshot was that in 1964, as a congressional report acidly noted, "the 

149 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

separate NASA and DOD efforts ... appeared to be subject to only a minim

of coordination." 22 NASA continued its advanced studies of space stations 

began to let contracts f01: studies of follow-on uses for Apollo hardware. That th

was an element of duplication between the NASA space station and the M

seems obvious. That NASA did not wish to be fettered by prior DOD appro

seems equally clear. 

The moral seems to be that, short of the Space Council, whose coordina

authority was shadowy at best, and the President, there was no mechanism 

meshing NASA policy on advanced studies with its only direct competitor. Wit

NASA, top management used several strategies to keep advanced studies un

control. There was agreement in the agency that exploratory and feasib

studies were best done in-house, that they could be accomplished at minimal c

and that the more detailed the studies were, the more important it became to 

in industrial know-how. But there had to be some authority to coordinate stu

and to prepare guidelines to resolve the problems they raised. Was it necess

for instance, that a given study run continuously in order to keep abreast of 

state of the art? Which studies were to be in-house and which contracted o

Should follow-on studies be authorized before the studies of which they we

continuation had been evaluated? Should NASA award development contr

only to those firms already awarded study contracts or to any qualified bidd

The last question is investigated in the account of phased project planning. 

A task force study conducted just before the 1963 reorganization showed 

NASA needed a policy on study contracts. Of 114 studies considered, which 

taled $30 million, the task force concluded that 3 were appropriate but no

advanced studies; 27 appeared to be duplicative or "premature"; 3 were m

appropriately done in-house; and another 17 required guidelines from mana

ment. The task force also noted that, while each program office had its own 

views of study results, "a uniform procedure for assessment and utilization [

not exist." 23 There was no uniform review, no definition of the kinds of stu

the agency ought to be doing, no indication of study priorities. Many advan

studies were not submitted for review because they were funded separately 

supporting research and technology. 

It was to meet these needs that the Planning Review Panel was created

mission encompassed not only a review of each study but also the preparatio

an agencywide study plan. Studies to be contracted out would be approved 

Seamans on PADs; the panel would then review specific studies to see th'at t

conformed to requirements. Furthermore, each review would serve as a poin

departure for the next round of studies. Thus, in the fall of 1964 Seamans w

to the program offices, . asking them to state the guidelines for studies contra

for FY 1965. The time was past, he noted, when the program offices could p

with a broad brush. Based on the panel's Advanced Study Mission Review

announced that the 1965 contract studies would focus "on a few flight q1is

areas . . · .. rather than being as widely diversified as in the past." 24 OMSFrwo

concentrate almost entirely on "the definition of a program for manned ea,Tth 

150 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

bital operations that will best utilize the Apollo, Saturn IB and Saturn V capability currently being developed." The emphasis would be more on using existing 

hardware than on using post-Saturn launch vehicles. OSSA would define Voyager 

and develop programs for unmanned planetary exploration. In applications, 

OSSA was expected to define the next generation of advanced technology satellites 

and to continue work on an operational meteorological satellite.* OAR T would 

work to define the next generation of research and technology programs. 

The annual review uncovered many weaknesses in the program offices' 

advanced studies. In June 1967, for example, Fleming wrote to OMSF about its 

proposal for a manned space station study. He noted that the study plan duplicated about 50 percent of a study being conducted by an agencywide working 

group, that it was based on a single assumption, and that it made no comparison 

of the advantages of manned versus unmanned stations. Even if viewed as an 

OMSF exercise, the study proposal left something to be desired. Some studies 

would be carried out by Marshall, some by Houston, and one by OMSF itself; it 

was not clear whether OMSF or some lead center would coordinate and relate the 

studies to an overall plan. Also, the procedure whereby headquarters would direct 

the studies while a contractor carried them out would not work. Such work 

"NASA can and must do in-house. If we cannot find the time or people to carry 

out such work then there is a real need for a reassessment of how well our human 

resources are being utilized." 25 How could a development center like MSC be 

expected to accept the results of these studies without doing a complete evaluation 

of its own? Why should OMSF turn to a contractor for space station configurations when MSC had the most highly qualified group of engineers in the world 

for such work? "A group such as this would finish with a product that is usable 

by NASA since, being the creation of a development center under the direction of 

Headquarters, it would be acceptable to both." Fleming ended by strongly urging 

that OMSF cancel the proposed studies. If NASA management found it difficult 

to control its advanced studies programs, it was not for lack of expert technical 

advice. 

In summary, advanced studies were of basic importance to NASA planning 

because they marked the beginning of the R&D cycle. Whether they pertained to 

launch vehicles, missions, or spacecraft, advanced studies tended to set the direction of long-run agency planning, although they seem to have had little direct 

impact on hardware development. For this reason, management had every reason 

to keep a tight rein on what the agency would authorize and fund. The Planning 

Review Panel drafted an annual study plan; PADs were issued that encompassed 

each program office's studies in the six mission categories;t while study contracts 

had al,so to be approved by the Associate Administrator, whose authority to 

• For OSSA the review was an important matter. OSSA annually published a three-volume "prospectus" that 

could be used in short-term and intermediate planning but, under the terms of an openly expressed agreement 

betweerl'the office and Webb, was not designated a "plan." 

t In 1964 the categories were Earth orbital missions, lunar missions, planetary and interplanetary missions, 

launch '1=hicles, aeronautics, and general. 

151 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

withhold such approval was formal. On the basis of a recommendation by 

Planning Review Panel, Seamans in August 1967 rescinded approval of twen

two study PADs not yet placed under contract because they were untimely a

inappropriate in relation to the current operating plan and to the budget posit

NASA had staked out for the ensuing fiscal year.26 The agency could not 

without the kind of planning that preceded detailed project definition. But m

agement's efforts to keep advanced studies under central control were a mix

success, owing to the lack of center-program office coordination, the absence 

guidelines for study contracts, the seeming inability of some program offices to 

their studies in-house, and the necessity as late as 196 7 to withdraw study PA

R&D PROJECT PLANNING AND APPROVAL 

Few aspects of NASA planning were new. DOD had faced most of 

problems of advanced systems development several years before NASA was c

ated. How to determine the element of risk in developing a new system, how 

choose between alternative systems, how to select system characteristics in adva

of competitive exploration, how to present program goals independently o

proposed solution-all these problems were inherent in R&D planning, whet

military or civilian. The Air Force approach to systems management-concept

phase, definition phase, acquisition phase, operational phase-showed more th

a passing resemblance to phased project planning. However, the similarity 

appearance matters less than the difference in results. The differences in NA

and DOD planning for R&D have been discussed elsewhere: the NASA empha

on one-of-a-kind rather than serial production, the relative absence of cost

models for NASA programs, and the use of agency installations rather th

contractors for technical direction and systems integration.27 

Given such conditions, NASA management faced two principal problem

how to make programs visible and how to direct on an annual basis program~ t

spanned several years. R&D programs normally received "no-year" fundi; t

is, the money remained available to NASA until it was spent. Agency propos

normally had to be matched against agency funds and missions; this s 

problem of deciding which programs to authorize. Once authorized, R&Dr p

grams had to be funded, and officials needed projections of how much the cent

were spending and proposed to spend; this was the problem of financial m~nag

ment and review. And any plan had to allow for changes in current progra~. P

differently, the chief planning and approval documents-the PAD, the progr

operating plan, the project development plan, and the forms authorizing a

allotting resources-were NASA's attempt to resolve problems inherent t\ ~o

R&D. The problems included the following: Given the current state of th~ ;;\rt

such-and-such a realistic proposal? To what level of detail should the ceq er 

required to explain how it intends to carry out the project? How can NASA r bs

the major changes that can be expected to occur during the life of the proje

152 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

Chapter 3 discusses the origins of the NASA planning system. The following 

is a summary of the major developments in chronological sequence from the 

system approved by Glennan in January 1961 to the revised system of 1968. 

Glennan had established a system that, although far too complicated and soon to 

be superseded, had at least the germs of a uniform planning system. Changes in 

1962-1963 simplified the process: the creation of the PAD, which described the 

scope of the plan approved by Seamans; and the revision of the project development plan, which, instead of preceding approval, became the single authoritative postapproval summary of how the program office proposed to accomplish 

its objective. These documents in turn served as bases for NASA forms (506, 504) 

that made funds available for a project. In fiscal terms, "the PAD establishe[d) the 

purposes for which funds might be spent; the 506 authorize[d) the writing of 

checks for these purposes; and the 504 [made] the deposit in the bank account 

which [made) these checks good." 2x 

This was the official planning and approval system that obtained until the 

1968 reforms. Not that the format remained unchanged during this period-far 

from it. The PAD format was revised several times. In 1963, for example, it was 

changed from being reissued annually to issuance on a "cradle-to-grave" basis by · 

the Associate Administrator.2'' The phased project planning directive of October 

1965 added a project definition phase to the cycle and slowed the process by which 

management moved almost directly from feasibility studies to approval of fullscale hardware development. However, no detailed guidelines were published 

until the summer of 1968. By then, Webb and Finger had moved closer to the 

point where planning, authorization, R&D funding, and budget formulation 

would dovetail into one system. Each PAD would correspond to one line item in 

the NASA operating budget, would be updated annually, would be signed by the 

Administrator or another official (e.g., the Associate Administrator for Organization and Management) who was delegated signoff authority, and would 

constitute a contract between headquarters and the center designated as project i[ 

manag~r. 

E' en in a chapter on predevelopment planning, something must be added 

about 'NASA's financial management reporting systems. First, program authorizatioi:i was a continuing process; thus, headquarters needed reports of actual as 

well as projected outlays. Second, NASA needed yardsticks of cost-effectiveness to 

assess-t he costs of future programs. In other words, the agency needed current data 

in order to evaluate future programs. The data normally appeared in two different 

formats. The program operating plan (POP), a quarterly submission by the centers to· Seamans, showed actual obligations through the previous quarter and 

estimlited future obligations through completion of the project. The POP served 

as a benchmark for measuring performance and R&D budget estimates, and as 

a basis tor resource authorizations. In a sense, "pieces of the POP [were] approved 

by inafvidual executive actions" taken by Seamans.30 

The other reporting format was the contractor financial management system.3t l t was intended to provide NASA with a financial tool for planning and 

153 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

controlling project funds and with a basis for reports used by headquarters 

overall planning. The effectiveness of such a system depends on the accuracy w

which financial data can be reported, the avoidance of unnecessary detail, and 

use of a common baseline for elements such as cost reports and change upda

Originally, NASA used a single format, form 533, which was approved by 

Bureau of the Budget in April 1962 and was revised in 1964. But it would 

another three years before NASA had an integrated financial management syst

A 1965 survey by the Financial Management Division (Office of Administrat

revealed a sad lack of uniformity: "personal choice of 'home-made' devices; l

comprehension of the real purposes . . . of the system; nonuse by contractor

outright gamesmanship ... very major downstream restructuring of entire p

ject reporting levels and data specifications to accom[m]odate false starts 

inadequate cross-communications between Centers and Contractors, Centers 

Centers, and within Headquarters." 32 The survey's findings led to revised p

cedures, which were published as two manuals in March and May 1967. T

new system differed from its predecessor in three important respects. It repla

the single-format 533 system with four monthly and quarterly 533 report

permitted the contractor to use its own accounting system and time period

preparing reports, so that NASA and the contractor would possess the s

information; and the "blank stub" of the 533 forms (i.e., the absence of prescri

line item entries) enabled project managers to use whatever work breakdo

structure they wished, provided that it was compatible with the NASA ag

cywide coding structure used to classify all agency activities for reporting 

budgetary purposes. Thus the revised system became an effective tool for p

paring estimates of NASA's current and long-range needs. 

COST-ESTIMATING PROCEDURES 

Intermediate-range planning, program authorization, and financial Illapa

ment all flowed into one another, but the ability to plan and to budget depend

in the last analysis, on NASA's ability to prepare accurate cost models of its R

programs. The larger the program, the more difficult this was; and what NA

learned from)ts costing studies was, only too often, that their main value 

retrospective. In the Orbiting Astronomical Observatory, Orbiting Geophys

Observatory, Surveyor, and Nimbus programs, which were begun in 1959- 19

costs grew by a factor of four to five subsequent to project initiation;33 the princ

·reason was the lack of a well-defined spacecraft design or a clear definition 

experiments to be developed (see table 6-1). 

As a 1969 report noted, "one might have predicted the cost increases 

were experienced as the spacecraft designs became better defined, the te

nological problems identified, and the experiment development and al

supporting effort established. " 34 There were substantial cost benefits where te

nology could be transferred from one system to another with little design cha

154 
-

 ....... o·

·· ... ·· ...... -------- ----- r-

.F

Project Initial Estimate Total Number of Unit Tot

Date Cost Spacecraft Cost Co

Tiros 10/58 16.9 3 5.6 7

OGO (1/61) 25.3 3 8.4 2

Surveyor (1/61) 115.9 7 16.6 46

oso (1/61) 14.7 3 4.9 9

OAO (1/61) 53.4 3 17.8 2

Ranger (1/61) 49.2 5 9.8 1

Nimbus (1/61) 33.5 4 9.6 30

Relay (1/61) 17.8 2 8.9 3

Syncom 8/61 12.7 2 6.4 2

Pioneer 11/62 27.0 7 3.9 1Mariner Mars 1964 8/63 48.2 2 24.1 8

Orbiter 8/63 77.3 5 15.5 16

Biosatellite 9/63 49.9 6 8.3 1

ATS 4/64 109.3 5 22.1 14

Mariner Venus 1967 3/66 30.2 1 30.2 2

Mariner Mars 1969 3/66 98.0 2 49.0 1

- Subtotal OSSA 784.3 2 5

Mercury 2/59 200.0 - - 38

Gemini 12/61 529.0 - - 1 28

Apollo 5/63 12 009.0 - - 19 74

Subtotal OMSF 12 738.0 21 40

Total 13 522.3 23 92

.... 

\J1 \J1 

1 Cost ratio based on total cost. 

Source: Memorandum, DeMarquis Wyatt to Thomas 0. Paine, "NASA Cost Projections," 10 Apr
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

When such changes were required to adapt a technology, as for Lunar Or

they could be enough to nullify any gains. With Orbiter, there were two s

technology transfer: the spacecraft design itself and the camera system bas

Air Force earner~ technology. To adapt the camera system required major ch

in storage, film developing, and remote readout, changes that contributed g

to Orbiter cost increases. 

Ignoring the small projects that used proven technology, there were 

cases in which it was possible to make accurate estimates of planned or cu

programs: when spacecraft and experiment design were established befor

start of the project; when NASA bought production-line items, especially s

ing rockets and certain launch vehicles; and when NASA compared cu

programs with the funding levels originally authorized. In the first case i

possible to reduce design changes during the development phase. In projects 

as Relay, Syncom, and the Applications Technology Satellite (ATS), the 

increases were only about 1.1 to 1.3 times the original estimate. Each was des

before NASA began the project, and in the case of ATS "a substantial amo

design and demonstration of critical subsystems was conducted ... prior 

definition.35 In the case of serial production most of the early estimates for la

vehicles and propulsion systems seem to have been quite unrealistic; one o

called them "totally ridiculous." Here, the agency stood to gain much by acc

estimates. The tendency of the program managers was to make estimates bas

what vehicles should cost and to ignore many of the hidden costs of develop

especially the cost of assembling and maintaining the team that would produ

launch vehicle. The key was to separate more precisely the nonrecurring c

producing the first unit-whether the motor, the airframe, the guidance sy

or combined components-from the recurring costs of serial production. D

the original cost overruns and schedule slippages, a launch vehicle stage lik

Centaur could be produced serially once the hardware met design specifica

Today, Centaur and Delta are funded under R&D only because no other cat

seems to fit. 

Because of the size of the programs, it is the third category that is of 

concern. The concept of a cost overrun has meaning only in relation to 

baseline of funding. The management information systems used by NASA 

specifically intended to make these overruns visible. Such were the 533 report

manpower utilization report, and the NASA PERT / COST system that 

prime contractors were required to use in reporting summary time and cost 

These systems were not invariably effective or welcome within NASA. A r

study of Polaris, where PERT -program evaluation and review technique

first used, concludes that 

PERT did not build the Polaris, but it was extremely useful for those who did build 

weapon system to have many people believe that it did . 

. . . the program's innovativeness in management methods was .. . as effective technicall

rain dancing . . . . It mattered not that management innovations contributed little directl

156 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

the technical effort; it was enou~h that those outside the program were willing to believe that 

management innovation had a vital role in the technical achievements of the Polaris.36 

The effectiveness of PERT on NASA programs is also open to question; in many 

programs PERT was introduced too late to make much of a dent in funding and 

schedules?7 The point is that by 1964 the Office of Programming had in hand 

sufficient data and experience to analyze some of NASA's major programs. A 

study of Gemini conducted in June 1964 uncovered a deficit of $83 million for 

completing the spacecraft alone, an estimate based entirely on information avail;. 

able to management-particularly the monthly Project Gemini "OMSF Program 

Status" reports (also known as SARP charts). The program was broken into five 

major categories, and program schedules were examined from inception.38 From 

these, the programming task force discovered that the program was overrunning 

both cost and schedule, that OMSF set about solving problems at the expense of 

time, and that total costs were likely to grow by a multiple of at least four. The 

evidence was sufficiently persuasive to lead to a drastic overhaul of Gemini design, 

management, and scheduling. In particular, the intervals between launches had 

been lengthening; MSC wanted launches two to three months apart, later four, 

before Mueller reduced the interval to two months. 

The 1963-1965 period marked the maturity of NASA cost analysis. Besides 

the Gemini survey, the Office of Programming carried out several major joint 

studies: the Hilburn task force reports of September-December 1964, mentioned 

in chapter 4, which established the relation between schedule slippages and cost 

overruns; a study by the Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating Board of 

launch vehicle costs, which was based on the distinction between recurring and 

nonrecurring costs, and the unit cost for developing the first article in a production 

series; and a "cost validation" study at Marshall in the summer of 1963, a study 

that influenced the decision to implement phased project planning. The cost 

validation study was carried out by staff drawn from the Office of Programming, 

the Office of Administration, and OMSF. The study was ordered because Seamans was uncertain that centers like Marshall had a master plan for "pacing 

items"* in the Gemini and Apollo programs. The task force wanted to know the 

depth and status of mission plans and the basis for schedule and cost estimates; as 

one team member wrote in his daily log, Wyatt wanted to be able to tell Seamans 

that "there is a master plan-Behind the master plan are schedules-Behind the 

schedules there are work plans-That the work plans have been priced out." 39 

The studies were useful to the extent that top management wanted them, the 

Office of Programming had the staff to do them, and all concerned could agree on 

what they were trying to do. For officials to be able to plan at all, they had to 

understand the relations between schedules and costs or between the direct and 

indirect costs of launch vehicle production. No study could be effective unless 

officials at the highest operating level to which the study was addressed were 

• Pacing items were those events or components that, if delayed, would cause an equal delay in the entire 

program or in a planned launch. 

157 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

interested in seeing its recommendations carried out. Some of the most succ

reports, like the Booz, Allen and Hamilton study of incentive con

(pp. 103- 105), did not claim to make policy as much as point the way to

carrying out a course of action that had already been decided. Similarl

costing studies of Gemini or the cost-validation analysis of the Saturn V an

programs took those programs as givens.40 The studies sought to reduce, 

eliminate the t.Ulcertainties inherent in the R&D process-uncertainties att

in different ways by the PAD system and phased project planning. 

PHASED PROJECT PLANNING, 1965-1969 

To summarize the discussion to this point: the structure of 'NASA 

gramming was intended to make planning more realistic, to test the validity 

planning, to "harden" concepts into development projects, and to serve as a 

of continuous review. Therefore, a aocument like the PAD could serve 

purposes. It authorized projects at every stage of the R&D cycle from adv

study to advanced development; it served as the basis for the detailed p

development plan, which was the prerequisite for hardware developm

preceded the issuance of every resource allotment; and it was the foundati

periodic financial management reports, such as the quarterly program obli

plans submitted by the centers through the program offices to Seamans. Sinc

phase of the R&D process (which in 1964 included advanced studies, p

definition, and hardware development) called for a separate PAD, Seaman

three opportunities to intervene in the cycle. 

Viewed in this light, phased project planning (PPP) appears to be w

was, the normal sequence in management theory for R&D. NASA had ac

been phasing planning all along (seep. 84); PPP was introduced at a time 

NASA had very few new starts, and the main reasons for enunciating the co

were to make actual practice more uniform and to give management at lea

additional point at which to intervene. The issues that require explanation a

internal debate that preceded even the first tentative statement of policy, the 

between the policy directive of October 1965 and the detailed guidelines of A

1968, and the failure of line officials subsequently to understand or use P

brief account may reveal something of each program office's approach 

ganizing complex programs. The difference between the 1965 and 1968 dire

owed something to the three-year interval in which the agency tried to make 

work. But it owed even more to the context in which the 1968 guidelines 

drafted: They were only part of a system intended by Webb to channel res

authorization, planning, and program review through his office. 

The 1965 directive established four phases in the life of a project: adv

studies (phase A), project definition (phase B), design (phase C), and 

158 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

opment/operations (phase D).* In general, the program offices took exception not 

to the concept itself but to the terms in which it was couched. The draft guidelines 

did not recognize the need for establishing a project organization at an early date; 

they said little about the relative responsibilities of the program bffices; they did 

not show how the concept related to the budgetary, POP, and procurement cycles; 

they did not distinguish very clearly between each of the phases; nor did they 

justify four decision points rather than the three that had previously been used. 

Most of the specific criticism was reserved for phases A and C. It was (and 

remained) unclear how advanced studies should be carried out-whether directly 

by the centers, under contract, or by a mixture of the two. One program manager 

criticized the phase A concept because it would involve several centers studying the 

same objective. 

If these studies are to be of any value, they will essentially be in competition with each-other. 

If they are not competing, it becomes doubtful that the centers' more competent personnel 

have been assigned to the task . .. . Additionally, each NASA center appears to be saturated 

with work and no relief in sight . . . . it is doubtful that large quantities of good studies will 

be generated from which to be selective. This is the foundation upon which the entire 

procedure was established.•' 

Although the avowed purpose of PPP was to foster "maximum competition," 

neither the preliminary drafts nor the published directive worked out such a 

procedure. One of the problems in planning a major R&D program is to find firms 

with the capability to serve as prime contractors; in some very large projects 

NASA has had to rely on a single source or face the alternative of creating, at 

enormous expense, competition where none existed. Followed strictly, the 1965 

directive would have mandated full competition at every stage-an unrealistic 

state of affairs when one firm was the obvious choice for follow-on development 

work. It left open the question of whether competition in phase D should be open 

· to any firm or only to phase C contractors, and it ignored the real difficultyin 

having the program offices work with bidders who had not been involved in the 

earlier phases of PPP. It was common knowledge that a firm not involved in the 

first two phases had no real prospect of competing successfully in phase C. In fact, 

the program offices continued to do things the old way, eyen after 1965. In June 

1967 when NASA had to select contractors for phase C of the Voyager spacecraft, 

competition was limited to phase B contractors. As one center director put it, 

"nothing significant would be gained by attempting at this time to enlarge 

competition. "42 

Thus the 1965 directive went too far, yet not far enough. It was very specific 

in listing the benefits of PPP and quite vague in explaining how the process would 

• The programming cycle for facilities construction was slightly different. Its four stages were conceptual 

study, preliminary design, final design, and project execution. Unlike R&D projects, facilities projects were fully 

funded; that is, all the funds for one year were budgeted at once. See NHB 7330.1, "Approval of Facility 

Projects" Quly 1966), p. 8. 

159 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

work. For the program directors, agreement "in principle" obscured dis

ments over detail. The directive omitted or glossed over many significant ar

planning: It set no cutoff point between large projects and supporting researc

technology; it left open the possibility of limiting competition in the final ph

contractors already involved in detailed project definition; it said nothing 

science, experiments, or payloads; and it did not specify how much time 

elapse between phases. It is no wonder that the job of preparing detailed g

lines, originally assigned to Wyatt, went nowhere. The sheer difficulty of g

nine or ten headquarters offices to agree on anything was enough to stop W

people in their tracks, and agreement, when reached, was at a lowest co

denominator level. 

That PPP was implemented at all was due to Webb's determination to r

the control over NASA that he believed he had lost sometime before the A

fire. Chapter 3 summarizes the changes of 1967-1968: the creat~on of an 

of Organization and Management to bring the program and functional 

under Webb's control; the separation of technical review from budget prepar

the reorganization of the Office of Facilities to bring about master planning f

agency; finally, the overhaul of the system by which programs were pla

authorized, and reviewed. Webb wanted to know-because he did not thin

he knew-what he was approving whenever he signed a PAD. By the summ

1967 Harold Finger's Office of Organization and Management, especial

Planning Division, had prepared detailed guidelines, most of which were 

piecemeal the following year. ~ The new system would emphasize superv

whether directly by Webb or by delegation to Finger, and make it possible to 

every approved project down to its smallest work package.44 

The basic features of the system were outlined in a memorandum 

27 January 1968 from Webb to the agency's key officials. First, there wo

a NASA operating plan to serve as "the official consolidated statement of N

resource use plans for the current year." Each item in the plan would ha

PAD, which would set the objectives, and would specify funding and 

authorizations. "Together, the operating plan and the PAD system [would

vide a double entry type of approval, control and audit system within which 

program and administrative objectives [could] be achieved.'' The program d

ors had to assume several responsibilities in submitting a PAD: "first, to ap

and endorse its substantive and technical merit; second, to take into accou

related administrative and functional requirements; and third, to reflect 

considerations in the documentation he sends forward through the Associat

ministrator for Organization and Management." Before the PAD reached W

desk it would first go to Finger for his signature. Webb wanted to "cut o

concurrence mill, which sometimes took a year, with 25 or 30 concur

required to prove something." 45 By delegation from Webb, one signature 

be enough. He also hoped for visibility; he wanted to know the right things s

"no one could bury a problem and keep it buried." 46 It was of the gr

importance that the Office of Organization and Management was built aro

160 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

almost created for-an R&D person, someone who could meet the program offices 

on their own terms. The Apollo fire had shown just how much had been hidden 

in the organization; and Apollo Applications, with its budget stretchouts and 

reprogrammings, had made the need for tighter fiscal controls even more obvious. 

Finger had to be able, if necessary, to say no; to refuse to sign a PAD if in his 

opinion it did not mesh with the NASA budget.47 There was always a temptation 

for such an official to let the program offices do as they pleased. But as Finger 

noted, "if you do that very often you completely confuse your system. You no 

longer have a system." 48 

The PPP guidelines, when finally issued, were not superimposed on the 

system just described. If anything, they were a sort of commentary, in which the 

PAD, the project plan that supplemented it, and the request for proposal all fell 

into place as parts of an encompassing system. Phase A was now preliminary 

analysis; phase B, definition. Each phase would be covered by a PAD, and every 

current year portion would be revised as necessary. The PPP guidelines clarified 

those matters that had led to so much disagreement. For example, competition in 

phase C (design) would be restricted to firms capable of going on to phase D 

(development/operations). Other details included the in-house nature of the preliminary analysis phase, the type of contract to be used (fixed-price or cost-plusfixed-fee in phases B and C, incentive contracts in phase D), and the role of the 

centers and program offices in monitoring contractors during the final development stage. The system did not lessen responsibility below the Administrator's 

level; it was not intended to make R&D work self-regulating or mechanical, 

which would have been self-defeating. In simplest terms, its purpose was to 

inform Webb or Paine or Newell of what it was he was signing, hence what he 

had to defend before the Bureau of the Budget and Congress·. 

FOUR APPROACHES TO R&D PROGRAMMING 

The foregoing account of NASA's formal approval systems necessarily leaves 

many questions open. For all the overlap that existed, the program offices were 

created and maintained for different but complementary purposes. This section 

provides brief surveys of planning strategies in each of the four program offices, 

whether its function was support (OTDA), defensive research (OART), discipline oriented (OSSA), or mission oriented (OMSF). 

The Office of Tracking and Data Acquisition (OTDAt') 

Elevated to program office status in December 1965, OTDA had neither programs nor centers. In most respects, its role set it apart from the other program 

offices: the requirement that it support all NASA programs, its extensive international activities, its almost exclusive use of support service contractors to operate 

and maintain its tracking stations, and its unbroken success in meeting its sched161 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

ules. OTDA's reliance on improvements in the state of the art was no greate

that of any other program office; yet the connection between technolog

mission requirements is perhaps most obvious in OTDA. What has been 

apparent in OTDA planning since the early 1960s has been the office's abi

keep funding requirements level and predictable. The office has largely a

plished this by closing many of its overseas tracking stations, consolidati

manned and unmanned networks, using fixed-price and award-fee contrac

facilities construction and operation, and developing a Tracking and Data 

Satellite System to supplement its ground networks. By such means it has 

possible to reduce the Deep Space Network (DSN) to three stations spa

intervals of 120 degrees along a longitudinal axis and equipped with 64-

radio antennas. More than any other program office, OTDA has manag

reduce the element of uncertainty inherent in R&D. 

OTDA's success has depended largely on developing a sophisticate

proach to planning. It must anticipate the needs of the centers, other pro

offices, and principal investigators. It must work out its requirements for sup

ing research and technology. It must have people stationed at the centers to 

in preparing the requirements documents that are the basis of OTDA plan

the system instrumentation requirements document, the network support 

the work authorization document, and the like. Such planning demands a 

tinuing dialogue between OTDA, program managers, and JPL and Goddar

two installations responsible for almost all network support. Or rather, wh

sees are two planning groups working side by side. On the one hand, OTD

always planned its long-range network requirements. On the other han

centers must .document the kinds of support they need for particular mission

the OTDA side, the cycle begins with advanced studies to review and u

network planning: new facilities, automatic data processing equipment, fun

and the like. This is followed by systems definition, which brings together O

and center personnel who negotiate requirements and draft a project pla

every point, a complex flow of documentation is generated. The program 

provide a formal requirements document; this is validated by OTDA, 

prepares its support plan; and JPL or Goddard then prepares additional ma

to justify the network support it is best able to provide. · 

The conspicuous feature of OTDA planning is that each case is deter

by the characteristics of the mission to be supported. In general, unm

deep-space probes have proved the most difficult to support, but the data ra

most spacecraft have increased by several orders of magnitude since the d

Explorer 1 and Mariner 4. * Particularly in the past decade, OTDA plannin

involved tradeoff considerations, for example, the advantages of placing addi

tape recorders on orbiting spacecraft versus augmenting the supporting g

• Mariner 4 transmitted 8 V3 bits per second (BPS). When it becomes operational in 1983, the shuttle/

will return somewhere between 250 000 and 50 million BPS. The cost per bit of data was reduced by 90 

between 1965 and 1973. See Review of Tracking and Data Acquisition, pp. 103-104. 

162 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

network. The relevant point is that OTDA must, to an extent, plan independently 

of specific future requirements. Once the general characteristics of future pro-

·grams become known, the office begins feasibility studies. Formerly, OTDA let 

study contracts, butit now does most of the preliminary work itself. Consider, for 

instance, what was involved in designing the DSN 64-meter radio antenna at 

Goldstone;Califomia, which was put into service in April 1966. Once the features 

of lunar and planetary programs were understood-extremely weak signals, long 

cruising periods, an anticipated increase in date rates-it became possible to plan 

network support. To build the earlier 26-meter antennas at Goldstone and elsewhere had been difficult enough; to build the larger one meant resolving severe 

technical constraints, once it was shown that one big antenna would be more 

cost-effective than several smaller ones. 50 Enormous steel castings had to be built 

to take the weight of the dish-shaped antenna; allowance had to be made for wind 

velocities and distortion caused by gravitational pull (both sides pulled in different 

directions when the antenna was not pointed at zenith); and the dish itself was 

made to rest on a thin film of oil, which served to cushion the mass of the antenna 

and to shut it down if the film's thickness decreased. 51 JPL let parametric studies 

(see note 11) and followed them with a preliminary engineering report and a 

design validation study. This was phased project planning before that term was 

made official, and Seamans singled out the construction of this great antenna as 

"almost a textbook case" of the system he recommended for the agency as a 

whole. 2 5

· In sum, OTDA planning was guided by three principal considerations. First, 

the characteristics of the mission dictated, within rather broad limits, the kind of 

support that OTDA provided. Was the mission manned or unmanned, Earth orbit 

or deep space? If in orbit, was it synchronous or elliptical, and how many contacts 

per orbit were needed? Were the data needed on a real-time basis, or could they 

be stored for later retrieval? Second, OTDA was not simply a passive witness to 

decisions made elsewhere. Planning involved a three-way exchange between 

OTDA, the program office requesting support (and in the 1960s, DOD, which 

provided tracking support for Apollo), and JPL and Goddard. Third, OTDA has 

coped successfully with the vastly increased data transmission rates of the newer 

spacecraft systems because it has been able to use and build on existing capability. 

The first 64-meter dish was a major breakthrough; the two that followed, at 

· Madtid and Canberra, were almost routine by comparison. It has been OTDA 

policy to increase "existing capability . . . only after thorough analysis of support 

requirements." By insisting on coordination with program offices "from project 

inception until achievement of mission objectives," the office was able to anticipate 

the facilities and technology needed a decade later.53 

The Office of Advanced Research and Technology (OART) 

It has been said that OART, more than any other program office, carried on 

· the NACA tradition of doing advanced research in-house. But this is only partly 

163 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

true, since what had once been the mission of an entire agency was n

subordinate part of the much larger entity that succeeded it. Like NACA, O

was charged with conducting research into the underlying principles of 

nautical and space technology, reducing "complex theory to design proced

and testing systematically "to obtain design data for ... vehicles of the futu

But OART had to go beyond NACA practice by "proving" a concept, that 

building hardware to test it, whether or not the actual hardware found its wa

future systems. The special features of OAR T work included a relatively 

number of open-ended or continuing programs with no specified completion 

the role of the Associate Administrator for Advanced Research and Technol

reviewing supporting research and technology proposals by his own and 

program offices, and the creation of a Mission Analysis Division-loca

Ames, although attached to headquarters-in February 1965 to do adv

planning in order to identify future technology requirements. 

All these features tended to change the role of the older centers. 

officials, notably Dryden, objected strenuously to the research centers' involv

in project management, which he preferred to leave to the newer develo

centers. Other NACA veterans, like Silverstein, believed that the older c

needed some development projects in order to open new research possibili

the centers had a few projects, they would inevitably spill into the center's re

programs. In this, Silverstein's view prevailed, but there was a price to p

Ames, for instance, the changes of 1961-1965 had a profound effect: the tr

of many research division heads to headquarters, the organization of re

divisions around disciplines rather than specific facilities, the increased 

wind tunnels for development work rather than research, the establishme

Life Sciences Directorate in a center hitherto devoted exclusively to resea

the physical sciences, and an increase in manpower to cope with the manag

of those projects (and the inevitable contracting for hardware and service

signed to Ames.55 In all this, much was undoubtedly gained; what was 

harder to describe. The dilemma for OAR T planners was to justify the ki

research done at the centers. Formerly, research in cryogenics or structur

namics could be justified on the ground that it was worth doing for its own 

But OART was created to foster research that could be justified on its meri

that would feed into NASA programs. The question posed was this: How 

OART coordinate a number of small-scale efforts and organize them in r

fashion, yet not tie each research task to a specific mission or completion da

Finger, himself a product of Lewis, warned, 

Any effort to define the experimental engineering as mission research and technology 

weakens the entire basis for OART and for the OART program. It makes that prog

susceptible to assessment of the missions and dates defined rather than to the basic adva

in capability to be generated by that work.56 

This background serves to explain the difficulty, for OART, of spon

research that was at once independent of mission objectives and tied to 

164 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

planning. How, then, did OART plan, and how successful was it? Before its 

reorganization in October 1970 OART consisted of a Program and Resources 

Division (established from preexisting units in July 1964), seven program divisions,• and Mission Analysis.57 Mission Analysis functioned as OART's longrange planning group, and it was deliberately located at Ames to provide the 

group with more of a research atmosphere than would have been possible in 

Washington, D.C. As with OTDA, the flow of information was two-way: a give 

and take between the division, other parts of NASA, research advisory committees 

like the Advanced Research and Technology Board of OART, and other agencies, 

especially FAA. The purpose of Mission Analysis was to identify options for 

future planning and to estimate the time in which a certain technology would be 

needed, what was called the technology readiness date. Not that such work had 

to await the creation of the Mission Analysis Division. Earlier, Langley had been 

studying the feasibility of an orbiting Large Space Telescope; Lewis was working 

on advanced propulsion systems; while several centers carried on work in shorthaul transport aircraft. What set Mission Analysis apart was that it functioned 

as a planning staff for the entire program office; it concentrated on missions rather 

than on state-of-the-art improvements; and much effort was spent on mode analysis, that is, the choice between alternate means of conducting a mission. 58 

A second planning area was OAR T's review of the agency's supporting 

research and technology (SRT). Related to this was the creation of the Program 

and Resources Division, which was to bring in-house research under some kind 

of management control."') Besides the director, there were three subdivisions, each 

under a deputy director: Program Coordination, responsible for analyzing OART 

programs "for proper balance and for program overlaps or omissions"; Resources 

Management, which dealt with budgeting, funding, and reprogramming; and 

Administrative Management, which oversaw personnel, technical reports, congressionalliaison, and the like.w The division gave OAR T program balance, even 

at the cost of going over the heads of the program division directors. 

The major problem in coordinating SRT was the sheer quantity of the work. 

The Office of Space Science and Applications alone was spending over $80 million 

on SR T in 1968, most of it tightly linked to near-term programs. OSSA projects 

ran into the hundreds: large unfurlable spacecraft antennas; improved pointing 

accuracies for orbiting observatories; guidance, control, and navigation systems for 

launch vehicles; lunar and planetary roving vehicles; sensors for applications 

satellites-to mention only a few. Besides the work carried on in his own office, 

the Associate Administrator for Advanced Research and Technology had to be 

aware of such programs and the potential for wasteful duplication. He was 

supposed to review agencywide plans for SR T; review the technical content of 

each SR T task, as these programs were called; and recommend a total agency 

program and the assignment of tasks to each program office.(' 1 Internally, he had 

• Biotechnology and Human Research, Electronics and Control, Chemical Propulsion, Space Power and 

Electrical Propulsion, Space Vehicles, Aeronautical Vehicles, and Research. 

165 
MANAGING NASA IN .THE APOLLO ERA 

to have the staff work that would enable him, if necessary, to say no to his di

directors, or that would give him independent support where divisions refu

cooperate. This twofold problem-reviewing agencywide SR T and meshi

office's programs with those of other program offices-was in some wa

opposite of that of OMSF: Where OMSF had a few very large programs, O

had a plethora of smaller ones, some of which, undoubtedly, had been auth

because they were "nice" to do. 

If OAR T had a specific problem, it was lack of coordination between i

programs and those of other offices. There were too many PADs requir

OART tasks; too little flexibility in allowing the centers to reprogram; a

mechanism for linking technology disciplines in one area, like avionics

aircraft technology, which was in a separate category.12 

' This problem was a

vated by two others: the absence of a fixed percentage of the NASA budg

research programs, so that dollar levels remained constant or actually fell; a

absence of management continuity. OART had five successive directors be

1962 and 1969. This state of affairs, a chronic one in the upper levels of G

ment, was especially damaging to R&D management. Writing in 196

observer noted the "continuing short-term shifts of objectives ... inadequat

izontal communications between centers ... a thin middle management" a

tendency to label people as "NACA types," "aerodynamics types," or "v

types." '~ This was the time when NASA began to adopt the program a

ization system described earlier in this chapter. Partly to accommodate th

system and partly to handle its internal problems, OART made several ch

between 1968 and 1970. It reduced the number of PADs from 30 to 8, the n

of congressional line items from 8 to 3 (aircraft technology, space technolog

advanced research and technology), and the number of work units-the ba

OART reporting by the centers-from 5000 to 500 "Center Technical Obje

Resumes." 1 4 ' The 1970 changes were intended to give OART programs a 

and a consistency they had sometimes lacked. Aside from changes in n

clature, these reforms included establishment of a research council to en

balanced research program and authorization of the program division direc

issue instructions to the centers over their own, rather than the Associate A

istrator's, signature. 

Interagency studies, OAR T's third planning area, are best represented 

joint NASA-DOT Civil Aviation Research and Development (CARD) 

Study, begun in 1969 and completed in 1971. * The specific recommendati

that study are of less concern here than the manner in which it was carri

and the reasons for its success. The study group had a specific objective and p

terms of reference: The House and Senate committees that authorized the N

budget wanted to know the benefits accruing from a given level of R&D. 

• By an unfortunate coincidence the CARD report was submitted to Congress in March 1971, just be

Houses voted to discontinue funding the supersonic transport, the section on which was deleted to a

semblance of inAuencing the vote. 

166 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

NASA's role was almost a throwback to NACA's support for the military. Furthermore, the study group had a literature of policy studies on which to draw, 

from the 1948 "Finletter report" to the 1969 report of DOT's Air Traffic Control 

Advisory Committee. Thus the interagency working groups and the consultants 

who participated had some notion of how their work would tie in with and 

comment on previous policy studies. What made the coordination of NASA and 

DOT even tighter was the role of those NASA employees, including many top 

OART officials, who had gone to work for DOT. Moreover, the two agencies set 

up a joint office in January 1972 to handle followup work in three areas-aircraft 

noise abatement, airport congestion, and the need for improved short-haul 

transport-singled out in the report as high-priority items. In other words, the 

interagency team viewed its study as only a first step toward implementation of 

its major recommendations in civil aviation. And the final report was noteworthy 

in recognizing the importance of nontechnological constraints, such as regulatory 

systems, the social impact of airport congestion, and the cost-benefit effects of 

·various levels of R&D funding. 

The Office of Space Science and Applications (OSSA) 65 

In turning from OAR T to OSSA, certain differences of program size and 

advisory structure are immediately obvious. OSSA sponsored programs much 

larger than those of OART, while the content of the programs-much more than 

in OART -was determined in part by outside advisors to NASA. But the term 

"advisory" scarcely does justice to the role of the Space Science Board of the 

National Academy of Sciences or the Space Science and Applications Steering 

Committee (SSASC), which, established in May 1960, assisted OSSA in selecting 

scientific payloads for flight missions. SSASC and its subcommittees served many 

purposes: they strengthened contacts between NASA and the scientific community, gave representation to various interest groups, and acted as source evaluation 

boards in choosing principal investigators. Their functions were legal as well as 

advisory, since NASA could not negotiate exclusively with a university investigator without SSASC approval. 

The relation of OSSA to its advisory committees was one of the most serious 

policy issues facing Newell and John E. Naugle, who succeeded Newell as 

Associate Administrator for Space Science and Applications in September 1967. 

To say that the problem involved differences between NASA and outside scientists 

over the scope and functions of advisory committees is to underestimate the complexity of the issues. First, agency officials sought to avoid setting up boards so 

structured that NASA would be bound by whatever advice they offered. This had 

been an issue between NASA and the Space Science Board as early as 1959, when 

NASA acted to make the board "less of an independent advisory group with a role 

in initiating policy and more of a service entity responding within carefully 

prescribed limits to tasks specified by NASA." 11' ' Thus, when NASA proposed 

developing an Orbiting Astronomical Observatory (OAO) in 1959-1960, the 

167 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

board recommended that NASA instead support rocket- and balloon-bo

periments in astronomy. Only in 1962 did the board bow to an accomplis

and endorse the OAO.* Similarly, NASA rejected the recommendation o

hoc Science Advisory Committee in 1966 that the agency establish a 

advisory committee of non-NASA scientists reporting to the Administrato

had a history of rejecting this proposal because he thought a committee of o

might inter.fere with his authority to make policy for NASA. If establish

a committee would blur the lines between advising and policy making, 

some of the functions of the Space Science Board, serve as a crutch for 

Administrator, and take over functions already delegated to the Deputy A

trator and the heads of the program offices.('7 To Webb and Newell, the p

cons of a general advisory committee reduced themselves to purely admin

terms. To the members of the Science Advisory Committee, its propo

justified by frustration in serving on committees chaired and dominated by 

employees. 

Another problem was the relation between the various advisory gr

which OSSA drew. The complexity of the advisory process more than mat

complexity of the programs for which advice was sought. By 1967 the sy

the early 1960s was no longer adequate. There were no guidelines explain

or whether NASA needed such groups, how they were to be used, or the j

tions of the Space Science Board, the Missions Boards composed of non

scientists and established in 1967 to map out overall strategies for NASA 

programs, and the SSASC subcommittees. In administrative terms the s

of NASA advisory boards looked backward "to the days of discrete p

rather than forward to flight and research environments characterized 

degrees of interdependence between disciplines, between science and engi

and between techniques of flight investigation."('K To NASA, the way to m

system work was to bring in the most capable scientists to shape the co

space science, while keeping control of programs in NASA hands. But t

scientists, the advisory process could not be a dialogue between equals be

outsiders they could have no authority for final decisions and could not k

much about NASA programs as NASA employees did.69 

Outside scientists assisted NASA as advisors, as principal investigat

as members of boards to evaluate proposed experiments. How did OSSA, b

on their work, organize and plan its programs? Organizing space science 

simple matter, since each program was a combination of scientific paylo

spacecraft that flew them, and the vehicle (developed at non-OSSA center

cipally Lewis) that launched them. When considering a potential mission

necessary but not sufficient to ask, "Are the scientific objectives worth

OSSA officials had to go three steps further: "Is it technically feasible

there sufficient people to do it?" "Can we get the funds to support it?

• Two other constraints further diminished the board's effectiveness. It met infrequently (three to 

a year), and after 1964 it was supported exclusively by NASA funds. 

168 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

OSSA program structure was designed to resolve these questions; its purpose was 

to combine the evaluation of proposals for basic research with the management of 

programs calling for engineering skills of a high order. Figure 6-1 illustrates some 

of the most important features of the OSSA organization. 

The fundamental organizational principle was "the establishment of a manageable number of technical offices to handle separate program areas." 71 Each 

division was intended to be as self-contained as was practical; each contained flight 

programs related to common objectives; and, without exception, scientific discipline groups were located in the divisions they were primarily intended to serve. 

Three other features, not clearly brought out by the chart, are also noteworthy. 

Each division contained a small Program Review and Resources Management 

group to provide administrative support; and except for Voyager, each had its own 

Advanced Programs and Technology group to assist in future planning. Furthermore, it was OSSA policy to pair scientists and engineers at each operating level; 

where the head of one division was a scientist, the deputy was an engineer, and 

vice versa. This practice, which Newell transferred from his experience at the 

Naval Research Laboratory, was designed to avoid the pitfalls of a strictly 

discipline-oriented approach, in which neither side had the ability to see the total 

picture. For this reason, OSSA management insisted that scientists named as 

principal investigators had to be prepared to get their hands dirty. The payload 

had to meet several criteria, as indicated earlier: cost, compatibility, and competence. The outside scientist had to become an insider, had to learn the engineer's 

language, had to grapple with the unavoidable tradeoff's in turning a research 

concept into flight hardware. 

Another important OSSA concept was the distinction between the headquarters program manager, who was "the senior ... staff official exclusively responsible for developing the Headquarters guidelines and controls," and the 

project manager, who was "the senior ... line official exclusively concerned with 

the execution of his project." ~ This distinction was not unknown elsewhere, but 

OART tasks rarely rose to the level of projects, while OMSF project managers 

tended to be systems managers within very large programs. The program manager 

reviewed the effectiveness of center management, identified alternate courses of 

action, and developed a close working relation with the project manager responsible for the effective day-to-day management of the project at the field 

installation. Moreover, the installations' roles and missions were quite distinct. 

Wallops Station managed NASA's sounding-rocket program; Goddard handled 

Earth-orbital and applications satellites; while JPL, a contractor-operated facility 

working for NASA, managed the Deep Space Network as well as a significant 

part of the agency's lunar and planetary programs. 

The existence of these installations once more raises the issue of the purposes 

for which NASA research centers were being maintained. At Goddard, with some 

twenty flight projects in 196 7, the maintenance of so much scientific and engineering talent in a Government laboratory could be defended on several counts. 

The Government could not contract out its responsibility for determining that it 

169 
-

-...! 

0 

.----L--,0: 

I •.:. 

.-----... 

"' 

._,.._ ....... ....__ ..... ................. G2 ...... tiPL ..... 

,----L--,,: 

HOMER I. NlWEU 

...... 

....... .,._, 

DI'TY .• 

··-

Figure 6-1.....;... The OSSA Organization a
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

was getting good science for its money. It needed people who could build at least 

one subsystem of the spacecraft they had designed to fly. Goddard management 

chose to run flight projects in one of three ways: designing and building a spacecraft in-house (e.g., the Small Scientific Satellite); monitoring a contractor who 

designed and integrated the subsystems (e.g., the Orbiting Observatories); and 

following the procedure used in certain advanced systems, like the Nimbus 

weather satellite, in which the center "actually bought the subsystems and acted 

as spacecraft contractor and hired an integrator .... The Nimbus approach was 

twofold, to not only monitor, but you get up there in their plant and you are right 

over their shoulder." ~ Once the center had developed seferal strong discipline 

areas, it was even better equipped to do its work, as scientists in one discipline 

began to work with and consult with people in related disciplines. For example, 

people in planetology worked with people in Earth resources, or scientists in 

optical astronomy worked with colleagues in meteorology, since the different 

divisions used the same general type of instrumentation. Moreover, the scientists 

who worked in these discipline groups performed important services for the whole 

of NASA. They evaluated research proposals for headquarters, advised other 

Government agencies on the value of the space program in fulfilling their purposes, and were detailed as experts to the program offices for limited periods. 

Finally, by attaching project scientists to each flight project, Goddard management 

tried to ensure that the spacecraft managers and the principal investigators would 

understand what the other was doing. The function of the project scientists was 

to bring about a "cross coupling and understanding of the needs of the experimenter ... and what the project's problems are." 74 

So far the presentation has been limited to a still picture of the OSSA system 

of program planning. The results of OSSA planning presupposed the following 

elements within the organization: the existence of a strong in-house capacity to 

design programs, combined with the ability to integrate experiments with flight 

hardware; the establishment of a manageable number of technical divisions to 

handle separate program areas within OSSA; the cross-fertilization of scientific 

and engineering skills at each operating level; the creation of a Program Review 

and Resources Management Office to handle budgets, reports, and procurement 

policy; the establishment of separate program review and advanced mission 

groups in each division; and the corollary policy that planning, rather than being 

something imposed from the top, flowed upward from the centers, contractors, and 

advisory groups with which OSSA worked. In addition, with the adoption of a 

management information and control system in October 1965, OSSA had both an 

information system and a set of instructions that extended downward from the 

program division to the project offices. 

This is a somewhat idealized version of how OSSA officials did their 

medium-range planning, or thought they did. Some ground rules, like that of 

pairing scientists and engineers, dated from the early 1960s. Other features, such 

as the establishment of advanced mission groups in 1966, owed something to 

planning for the post-Apollo period, when OSSA and OMSF would both be 

171 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

staking claims to a piece-a rather large piece-of the action. And many of t

principles had to be imposed over the stiff resistance offered by Goddard and J

At Goddard the differences between Director Harry Goett and headqua

officials became so serious that he was dismissed in July 1965. Here the i

seems to have been Goett's reluctance to accept supervision by headqua

program managers or to allow OSSA representatives to attend meetings betw

Goddard officials and center contractors.7 " 

At JPL the situation was made more complex by the laboratory's statu

a contractor-operated facility that behaved, for most purposes, like a NA

center. The disagreements between JPL and NASA, which were intensifie

the string of Ranger failures, were touched on in chapter 2. The "mutu

clause" was an irritant, but the underlying differences had more to do 

program management than with anything else: OSSA, in particular, insiste

a tighter, more projectized organization than the one to which JPL had 

accustomed. 

To state the purpose of OSSA program planning is to emphasize both 

difficulty of the task and the office's success in reducing it to almost manage

proportions: "the coupling of the undisciplined scientific activity into a hi

disciplined engineering and administrative activity-the design, preparation, 

conduct of a space mission." 7r' 

The Office of Manned Space Flight (OMSF) 

The foregoing analysis of how OAR T and OSSA conducted their plan

accentuates the distinctive features of OMSF planning.

77 The obvious differe

between OMSF and the other program offices pertain to size and the kin

programs that OMSF managed. Indeed, OMSF did not plan in the sense 

Newell's or Bisplinghoff's office did. There was no similar structure of large 

small projects, some under way, others phasing down, and others moving 

design to development. At OMSF planning was as much within as bet

programs. At the end of 1961 all three of OMSF's major programs-Merc

Apollo, and Gemini-had been approved or were ongoing. No new program 

approved or introduced as a budget line item until FY 196 7. In this sense, 

was very little to bridge the gap between current and f!Jture programs. 

The size and share of NASA funds and manpower enjoyed by OMSF pu

organization in a special category, one not reflected in the organization ch

Although superficially similar to other program offices-it too was headed b

Associate Administrator and had to submit PADs for each program-the 

size of manned spaceflight programs made control by Webb, Seamans, or Dr

difficult, or at least incomplete, compared with the other program offices. OM

was semiautonomous within the agency structure, while the OMSF centers 

semiautonomous, almost baronies, within the OMSF framework. Muelle

well as the center directors, had independent ties with Congress, the aero

community, the press, and, through the Science and Technology Advisory C

172 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

mittee, the scientific estate. The real key to understanding the OMSF program 

structure is the high priority of Apollo and its special claim to NASA resources, 

If the responsibility for the development of the Centaur launch vehicle and its 

RL-1 0 engines was transferred from Marshall to Lewis, it was because, as a 

former NASA official explained, Marshall officials had much more interest in the 

Saturn vehicles that they had designed than in the Centaur vehicle, and for that 

reason tney were prepared to see Centaur canceled. If in October 1965 Webb 

decided that the Saturn V would be used to launch Voyager, it was in part because 

he wanted to retain the Marshall capability once Apollo phased down. Because 

of the overriding claims of the lunar landing, NASA management and Congress 

were prepared to accept, tolerate, or encourage practices they might have disapproved of elsewhere, like the creation of Bellcomm, the extensive use of support 

service contracts, and the construction of facilities-Marshall's static test stands, 

the crawler-transporter at Kennedy Space Center-that . were peculiar to one 

program rather than to the continuing needs of the agency. At the same time, once 

the large programs began to phase down, NASA would face grave problems. 

What would happen to the contract and in-house work force assembled to carry 

the lunar landing program to completion? What would become of centers like 

Marshall that were organized around a few very large development projects? 

What would become of OMSF after the first lunar landing? Did the Apollo 

hardware have uses beyond the program for which it was developed, or was a 

launch vehicle like the Saturn V a technological dead end? Insofar as the other 

program offices rode on the coattails of the Apollo program, they too were involved 

in its fate. The size and sunk costs of Apollo were such that a serious miscalculation in OMSF might drag the agency down with it. 

For a clear understanding of the nature and purpose of OMSF planning, it 

is necessary to concentrate on two areas: the management approach of George 

Mueller, who succeeded Brainerd Holmes as Associate Administrator for 

Manned Space Flight in September 1963, and OMSF's Advanced Mission Studies program from its inception shortly after Mueller's arrival to the fall of 1965, 

when NASA submitted Apollo Applications as a budget line item. 

Under Mueller, who came to NASA from Space Technology Laboratories, 

the manned program reached its "classical" phase. One might even argue that the 

most important administrative changes at OMSF occurred in a little more than 

one year, from September 1963 to the end of 1964. Mueller knew about Holmes' 

troubles and from the beginning expressed a desire to work closely with top 

management.78 But, although he was more diplomatic than Holmes had been, he 

was no less bent on having his way. During his first year at NASA, he devised 

technical and management approaches that were to dominate OMSF planning 

until well into the 1970s: the organization of OMSF along program lines instead 

of having one office working on launch vehicles and another on spacecraft; the 

division of each program into discrete "work packages"; the concurrent development of the vehicle and ground support equipment; the greater use of redundant 

(duplicating) systems in the launch vehicle and spacecraft; the introduction of the 

173 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

concept of the "open-ended" flight mission; 79 and the all-up mode of flight tes

and, with it, the delivery of complete systems to the Cape. Mueller knew o

Air Force's experience in the all-up testing of Minuteman.80 Despite the in

resistance of his center directors, Mueller was able to sell the concept to t

because the logic of the situation-the "end of the decade" deadline for the l

landing, the knowledge that programs were slipping dangerously, the ineffici

of the current mode of flight testing-made some sort of change inescap

NASA could not afford to repeat the Saturn I testing experience, in which 

launches of the first stage were followed by launches of coupled second and 

stages.81 The centers, Marshall in particular, had to take a bolder appro

Mueller believed that NASA no longer needed and certainly could not affo

step-by-step advance. For this reason he also decided to cancel all manned Sa

I flights and to man-rate only the Saturn IB and Saturn V launch vehicles

Mueller was equally radical in handling headquarters and center operati

He restructured the Apollo program so that every functional element at 

headquarters program office had a corresponding element in the center pr

office. The several systems comprising the Apollo spacecraft were defined thro

the subsystem level, and for each of the major systems he required that one pe

be responsible full-time for performance, costs, and schedules. In short, Mu

·acted to stratify his organization to the lowest level. As Associate Administr

for Manned Space Flight, he defended his programs before top management 

Congress, set and interpreted policy with his program managers and ce

directors, and set the terms on which long-range planning would proceed

Apollo Program Manager Brig. Gen. Samuel Phillips, USAF, who had been 

Minuteman manager and, more important, Vice Commander of the Air F

Ballistic Missile Division before being detailed to NASA in 1963, Mueller d

gated responsibility for planning schedules, budgets, systems engineering, 

other functions needed to carry out the program. Below Phillips' level were 

center program offices, the prime contractors, and the intercenter coordina

panels that knit the program together. What Mueller succeeded in creating 

a "manned space family" with a stronger voice in policy making than any o

program office. By meeting frequently with Apollo prime contractors (organ

as the Apollo Executives Group), by intensive briefings of the House Science 

Astronautics Committee (especially its Manned Space Flight Subcommitte

Manned Space Flight centers, and by creating his own long-range planning g

in conjunction with Bellcomm, Mueller developed lines of communication 

external groups that could make or break the Manned Space Flight program

also went far toward making the OMSF Management Council a more effe

policy-making body. He reduced it to include himself and the three center d

tors, combined the monthly council meeting with the monthly program sche

review, and carried a resolution by which decisions could be deferred if they 

quired extended discussion.82 

Organizational changes at the centers both preceded and paralleled t

reforms. Each case was a response to the logic of programs with long lead ti

174 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

geographic dispersal of prime contractors, and the need to integrate the flight 

hardware and the ground support equipment in one place. As shown in chapter 3, there was not even a consolidated Launch Operations Center until May 

1963. The subsequent history of what became the Kennedy Space Center (KSC) 

bears witness to the importance attached by OMSF and top management to 

concentrating launch operations in one center. In December 1964 KSC absorbed 

the Florida Operations of the Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC), thereby assuming control of "all manned spacecraft upon arrival at the Center and total 

responsibility for manned space vehicles." 83 In October 1965 KSC assumed responsibility for NASA unmanned launches as well, qver the bitter protests of 

Goddard, which had previously managed them. At Marshall the August 1963 

reorganization reflected the transition from a center whose roots were deep in the 

arsenal tradition to one whose principal function would be to manage large 

contracts for developing and producing complex launch vehicles. This reorganization established an Industrial Operations Division "as the ... element 

responsible for multi-program management with Research and Development 

Operations providing technical support and management of in-house .. . projects." 84 Concurrently, center management extended its use of support contracts on 

a one-contract-per-laboratory basis. At MSC in Houston there were two reorganizations in 1963. The first, in May, divided operations from developmental 

activities, with separate offices for preflight program management and for mission 

operations. The second, in November, gave Director Robert Gilruth and his 

deputy, James Elms, joint responsibility for four assistant directors and for the 

Apollo Spacecraft and Gemini program offices.85 All these changes-the consolidation of responsibility for launch operations, the separation of development from 

operations at the development centers, and the transition from organization by 

systems to organization by program-provided a foundation for the Manned 

Space Flight program that was sturdy enough to last the decade. 

Yet Mueller's success in the medium term may serve to explain the comparative failure of OMSF in the long term. Although Mueller established an Advanced 

Missions Office under Edward Z. Gray as early as October 1963, it would be 

almost three years before NASA was sufficiently confident in its post-Apollo 

planning to present Apollo Applications (AAP) as a budget line item. Given the 

nature of ongoing OMSF programs, the reasons for the delay become understandable. First, there is an inherent tension between managing current programs 

and planning programs for the long term. If one office has responsibility for both, 

current programs will generally take precedence over future programs because of 

the difficulty of planning as if there were no monetary constraints while carrying 

on in the real world. 

Second, there were genuine differences between Mueller and his center 

directors over mission possibilities after the lunar landing. There were three options: missions to the near planets, such as Mars; expanded lunar exploration; and 

manned Earth-orbitallaboratories.86 Despite its fantastic expense, Mueller was 

attracted by the idea of a manned expedition to Mars, while Gilruth at MSC and 

175 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

von Braun at Marshall were convinced "that the major effort of NASA in 

post-Apollo period must be directed toward full exploitation of near Earth sp

capability and, thus, the follow-on lunar activities, if they are required, can 

carried out at a more scientifically efficient pace." 87 The difficulties with the sp

station concept are discussed earlier in this chapter. NASA could not commit i

prematurely to an Earth-orbital station (or anything else) for fear of bring

down on itself the wrath of Congress and-what was equally to be dreaded-

antagonism of DOD. Hence the hesitation in defining the sequel to Apollo. W

began as a program of lunar exploration had shifted by 1967 to Earth-orb

operations. 

Third, OMSF's planning exercises left the role of space science equivocal

least up to 1966 science was something added on, rather than integral to, man

spaceflight. It sometimes seemed as if OMSF management based its planning 

science on the existence of surplus hardware rather than on a felt need 

science-based exploration. In any case, the development centers were not equip

to the same degree to do research. Marshall had magnificent engineering capa

ities but few facilities for doing research, whether basic or applied. MSC, on 

other hand, had a number of laboratories, like the Lunar Receiving Laborat

that could accommodate research in the life sciences and lunar geology. The 

problem facing OMSF was how to work with OSSA in any follow-on to Ap

a problem that Seamans' "roles and missions" memorandum of 26 July 1

failed to resolve x OMSF was given full responsibility for Apollo and AAP m

sions, while OSSA was to be responsible for the scientific content of NA

spaceflight programs. However, the approaches of the two offices were so diffe

that cooperation would have to be the result, not the precondition, of any j

action. OSSA officials were privately sceptical of OMSF's ability to do long-t

planning, they regretted the selection of Saturn V rather than the Sa

IB/ Centaur as the Voyager launch vehicle, and they differed sharply with M

ler over the design of experiments and the ways in which flight hardware wo

be used. For these reasons, OMSF found it exceedingly difficult to subm

program that could be made to follow logically from programs actually 

progress. All too often, OMSF planning seemed prompted by inquiries f

Congress and the President, rather than by any conviction that "this is the 

we ought to go."* 

CONCLUSIONS 

To show that NASA had the means for successful medium-term plann

as was asserted at the beginning of this chapter, is not the same as showing 

NASA did it. The strategies of project approval and review so far discussed w

• Thus the 1966 Apollo Program Development Plan stated that no advanced mission would be included 

such time as the ;;~dvan ced programs are defined and approved" (p. 17-1). 

176 
PROGRAM PLANNING AND AUTHORIZATION 

useful in channeling ideas and proposals upward and the decisions of the program 

directors downward to the centers and project managers. But the project approval 

documents, the phased project planning directives, or the controls on advanced 

studies were not planning documents in any real sense. Rather, they set the terms 

on which planning took place. They were approaches by top management toward 

controlling manpower and resources throughout NASA. Webb and Seamans 

could not defend the agency budget until they knew what it was they were defending. Nor could they administer programs if each PAD required concurrences 

by two dozen officials before it reached their desks. To put it differently, the PAD, 

the project development plan, and similar document~ were tools of management 

control; they recorded, at several removes, program decisions made elsewhere by 

other officials. 

To understand how program planning really took place, one must examine 

each program office, its areas of responsibility, and how it related to the others. 

Each of the three substantive program offices had its own planning staff, as well 

as control divisions to review the planning of the several divisions comprising each 

office. But no program office developed a system to handle its R&D projects: not 

OMSF, because there was nothing in the Apollo program to dictate what the 

follow-on to the lunar landing would be; not OSSA, because programs like Viking 

and the High Energy Astronomical Observatory were not routine extensions of 

capabilities developed for earlier programs; and not OART, because of the 

difficulty of doing research that was at once detached from specific missions, yet 

somehow expected by top management to help define the technical parameters of 

NASA flight programs. What the offices could do was to refine management tools 

within the approval system represented by the PAD. Top management could do 

a great deal to eliminate paperwork, to make decisions explicit, and to get program 

directors to justify their decisions, year by year and project by project. On the 

evidence, it seems that they could do little to determine the technical content of 

specific programs; program planning was not just a reflection of choices made on 

the seventh floor of FOB-6. 

The ways in which Voyager or Lunar Orbiter or the test facilities and 

laboratories at Houston and Marshall took shape owed much more to engineering 

than to administrative considerations. One need only recall such examples as the 

conviction of center directors that projects or facilities were technically ripe; H'J the 

ambition of the directors to retain certain capabilities even when their reason for 

being was gone; the knowledge that many of the uncertainties dogging earlier 

programs (e.g., in the development of launch vehicles) no longer existed; and the 

existence, by the mid-1960s, of subsystems like the Surveyor soft lander or the 

pointing devices of the Orbiting Geophysical Observatories, that could be 

recombined for entirely different spacecraft systems. In short, the planning techniques described in this chapter represent the interplay of sophisticated technologies with the convictions of NASA management and line officials about the 

kinds of programs the agency ought to have. The decision to go to the Moon gave . 

NASA one kind of program, to which unmanned planetary probes and supporting 

177 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

·research and technology must contribute. The decision dating from 1967 

space must be treated as a resource to be exploited as well as a region to 

explored gave NASA another program with other ends in view. Program plann

was the point at which technical constraints, political pressures, and admi

trative solutions converged. 

178 
Chapter 7 

The NASA Budgetary Process 

THE FUNCTIONS OF THE BUREAU OF THE BUDGET 

The budgetary process accounted for the difference between what NASA 

wanted and what it ultimately received. In the strictest sense, the Federal 

budget is "the proposed annual financial plan ... which the Congress considers 

and approves or modifies .... This is the medium through which an agency 

determines, requests, and obtains the financial authority needed to carry out 

contemplated programs, and the mechanism . .. for ... control of operations 

within the limits of funds made available by the Congress." 1 This definition 

explicitly recognizes that the Federal budget is rather more than a financial document. It enunciates goals, serves as a benchmark for comparing actual with 

expected accomplishments, is the basis for authorizing and appropriating legislation, and (as the mechanism by which programs already approved are funded) 

is a record of past negotiations and a preview of programs not yet approved. The 

budget, in short, translates substantive programs into dollars and cents. 

The absence of coordination, of legislative review and approval by a single 

body accounts for some of the distinctive features of the Federal budget. As 

Wildavsky notes, budgeting is fragmented because congressional subcommittees 

are semiautonomous units that concentrate on limited areas of the budget; specialized because the full congressional committees assign budget review to their 

subcommittees; nonprogrammatic because most committee members view their 

task as making marginal adjustments to existing programs; and incremental 

insofar as Congress and the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) take the 

previous year's budget, rather than the worth (in both senses) of the total program, 

as their point of departure.2 Particularly in the 1960s, critics of Federal budgetary 

procedures seized on these features because they made the establishment of priorities within the total budget impossible. Or- what came to the same thing-the 

division of budgets into smaller and smaller parts made overall evaluation exceedingly difficult. According to this view, "the overall budget tends to emerge as the 

179 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

accidental outcome of a number of specialized decisions." 3 Hence the numbe

proposals, dating from the first Hoover Commission (1947-1949), for refo

These included proposals for performance budgeting, that is, incorporating st

ments of output in agency budgets; for program budgeting, by which agen

would make their operating assumptions explicit to the Bureau of the Budget

projecting multiyear costs; for examining alternatives to a given approach and 

considering needs and costs together; and for introducing improved finan

management systems according to guidelines prepared by the U.S. Comptro

General.4 

The principal agent in preparing a unified national budget was the U

Bureau of the Budget (BOB). Long before it was reorganized as the Offic

Management and Budget in July 1970, the Bureau's role transcended tha

adding each agency's figures to get the correct sums. 5 Substantive programs 

money; and the Bureau's power to review and adjust agency estimates amou

to policy making, whether intended or not. The Bureau and its successor 

powers, some of them statutory, others assigned by executive order, to deal w

a variety of Government-wide issues. It had (and still has) the authority to 

personnel ceilings for most agencies, including NASA. It prescribed standard

agencies to use in contracting for services. It was responsible for supervising m

ods of financial reporting by Federal agencies and for promoting Governm

wide procurement policies. Since 1939, when it became part of the Execu

Office of the President, it has had the function of clearing all recommen

legislation, whether or not it involved appropriations. In brief, BOB and Q

had policy-making functions, some assigned or delegated explicitly, others ga

almost by default. The Bureau coordinated programs that involved more than 

agency; appraised pending legislation in terms of its compatibility with the 

grams of the President; required departments to include cost projections of 

grams they wished to fund; and informed the President of executive agen

performance. The questions examined here are, how did NASA work through 

budgetary process, and how did the process itself affect the planning and con

of NASA,programs? As a corollary, to what extent did BOB coordinate Fed

planning for science and technology in a period when NASA was spending 

third of the Federal R&D dollarsr 

I 

DIFFICULTIES IN REVIEWING THE NASA BUDGET 

Three features that NASA shared with other R&D agencies mad-e exte

review difficult. First, there were no guidelines for a unified national sci

policy; second, BOB was at a disadvantage in reviewing NASA programs; th

the nature of the programs made them difficult to justify in quantitative te

These were not necessarily disadvantages in the abstract; one might argue

example, that there was no compelling reason for a unified Federal science po

180 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

Indeed, the diffuseness of publicly sponsored research, the sector-by-sector approach, could be justified on the ground that it rescued publicly supported R&D 

agencies from a system of rigid centralization. Alternatively, the multiplicity of 

bodies for reviewing and coordinating Federal science policy tended to become 

self-defeating, especially in the absence of staff support. Congress in the 1960s 

lacked both the staff and the central review of the budget that would appear to be 

essential to legislate for science. The same weaknesses were evident within the Office of Science and Technology, the President's Science Advisory Committee, and 

the Federal Council for Science and Technology, all of which were chaired or 

directed by the President's Science Advisor. The effectiveness of a science advisory 

system depended on a conjunction of events and personalities that rarely occurred. 

The President had to want independent advice; Eisenhower gave his advisors an 

effective voice in shaping policy, Kennedy less so, and Johnson and Nixon least 

of all. There were, besides, structural defects built into the system. Thus Dr. Don-

. ald Hornig, President Johnson's Science Advisor, was limited by the small size of 

his permanent staff; by the direct access to the President enjoyed by the heads of 

DOD and NASA, the two agencies that accounted for the bulk of Federal R&D 

spending; by Johnson's preoccupation after 1965 with the Vietnam War; by the 

·absence of yardsticks for determining priorities within the science budget; and by 

the ability of NASA or DOD to set their own policies-for example, establishing 

the Electronics Research Center or choosing lunar orbit rendezvous as the Apollo 

mission mode-while ignoring or circumventing the formal coordinating mechanisms of the Executive Office arid its science policy staff.6 The Science Advisor 

and the committees he chaired could advise, persuade, issue reports, and appear 

individually before Congress. But neither Hornig nor the Science Advisory Committee could do very much to set policy within NASA. 

The absence of advisors in the Executive Office who were at once effective 

and disinterested reinforced NASA's tendency to limit the scope and range of its 

planning. NASA planned in terms of substantive programs and did little to relate 

manpower to programs. BOB was the only agency that could, at least potentially, 

mesh NASA programs with each other and with the Federal community. But the 

difficulties of appraising the NASA budget went beyond the competence of Bureau 

examiners. Bureau officials knew that the size, not just the technical nature of 

NASA programs, made detailed oversight difficult. NASA R&D programs were 

funded incrementally; in other words, allotments were made by the program 

offices to the field installations more than once a year. This, along with NASA's 

contracting structure, made "the relationship of specific end items and annual 

funding requirements almost impossible to establish." 7 Bureau examiners also 

had to contend with the uncertain nature of estimates for current or future 

programs, since unforeseen problems might render the estimates almost worthless. 

Finally, the number of examiners was very limited; as late as 1965 the Military 

Division, whose forty-three staff members oversaw the NASA, DOD, and Atomic 

Energy Commission budgets, had only three examiners working on the NASA 

budget.8 

181 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Moreover, NASA programs by their very nature were peculiarly impervi

to cost-benefit analysis. It was one thing to choose between two method

attaining the same goal; it was another, considerably more difficult task to cho

among competing goals. Few NASA programs produced benefits that could 

measured in dollars. To study cost-effectiveness, NASA had to proceed on 

sumptions that were themselves open to question. Even when NASA tried 

quantify the benefits of a specific program, other, noneconomic considerati

eluded analysis. When NASA used cost-benefit studies to justify the decisio

develop a reusable space shuttle, the General Accounting Office (GAO) poin

to issues that were not reducible to quantitative terms. Whether a space shu

was or was not economically justified, NASA had to take other matters 

account: whether the value of technological spinoff's was sufficient to justify 

program; whether the shuttle offered the U .S. space program unique capabilit

whether the United States was prepared to use the shuttle indefinitely and not 

to some predetermined date; finally, whether the nation should make so heav

commitment to manned spaceflight, when unmanned vehicles might reap mos

the benefits and avoid most of the risks of a manned system.

9 The specific con

sions of the GAO report need not detain the discussion. What matters is 

NASA officials were quite ready to concede the difficulty of making cost-ben

studies of space systems. 10 For that matter, such studies, especially when c

tracted out, might have little influence on decision making at the highest level

they might be commissioned simply to justify decisions already taken for o

reasons. *11 One official frankly conceded that NASA found it "extremely diffi

to quantify such elusive economic considerations as they affect research and de

opment efforts in the space environment." 12 

Given these problems, what resulted from the annual budget reviews? T

following sections involve a closer look at the review procedures of BOB, 

account of the planning-programming-budgeting system from its introductio

1965 to its demise in 1970-1971, and an analysis of the ways in which NAS

internal long-range planning tied to the external reviews of BOB and Congr

First, however, it is necessary to explain the categories under which NA

programs were funded. 

How THE NASA BUDGET WAS FORMULATED 

NASA Appropriation Accounts 

From fiscal years 1963 through 1969, NASA was funded under three 

counts: research and development (R&D), administrative operations (AO),t 

* The decision to build a Tracking and Data Relay Satellite System may have owed more to NASA's d

to reduce its dependence on tracking stations located on foreign soil than to any presumed cost benefits. t From 1959 to 1962 this account was "salaries and expenses"; for FY 1963 it was merged with R&

"research, development, and operations"; and since 1969 (FY 1970) it has been "research and pro

management." 

182 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

construction of facilities (COF). These titles should not be taken too literally. 

Many items in R&D had little to do with research, while the COF account 

omitted some of the most important construction work when it involved the 

installation of "severable" equipment. With these caveats in mind, two features 

of the NASA budget are evident. NASA budgeted on a "program" or performance 

basis; and.the requirement for an ,item, rather than the nature of the item itself, 

primarily determined the funding category to which it belonged. 

R&D and COF had more in common with each other than they had with 

AO. Both were funded on a no-year basis, with funds available until spent; AO 

was an annual appropriation, with unspent monies lapsing to the U.S. Treasury 

at the end of the fiscal year. Moreover, NASA was permitted under its annual 

authorizations to reprogram internally within COF and to transfer funds from 

R&D to COF with authority to construct. The principal limitations on transfers 

and reprogrammings were the extension of the powers of the . congressional authorization committees from about 1963, the imposition of the requirement that 

NASA give the committees prior notice for certain kinds of reprogramming in the 

R&D and AO accounts, the reduction in 1965 of NASA's transfer authority from 

3 percent to 0.5 percent of the total authorized for R&D, n and restrictions on 

dollar amounts reprogrammed within COF. 14 Some of these changes ensued from 

the shift in power from the appropriations to the authorization subcommittees, 

where the most intensive reviews of NASA took place. Others stemmed from the 

belief of committee members that NASA was not doing an adequate job of 

planning for its facilities; that much of NASA's capital spending duplicated 

equipment available at DOD installations; that NASA was using R&D money 

directly to fund its facilities projects; and from the resentment directed by Congress at NASA's practice of changing the quantitative scale of projects without 

actually changing their intended purpo.se, and of presenting requests for capital 

plant improvements as a lump sum amount. 

Thus the NASA appropriation categories meant more and less than their 

titles signified. R&D funds could be used for facilities, provided the money was 

spent on "collateral" (or "severable") equipment; that is, equipment "placed in 

use in a facility but is not permanently attached thereto except for operating 

purposes and is removable without significant damage to the real property." 1' In 

other words, the shell of a building that cost $500 000 (and that was funded out 

of COF) might house equipment worth millions of dollars that was paid for by 

R&D funds. Administrative operations was more than an administrative overhead 

account. It included the direct expenses for operating the NASA centers, the 

salaries of all NASA civil service personnel, payments to support service contractors, and the funds for the operation and maintenance of the agency's capital 

plant.1' ' 

Two other features of R&D not revealed by appropriation titles should be 

noted. R&D included certain items that were produced in quantity and as such 

hardly qualified as research or development. This was especially true of launch 

vehicle procurement: Once the uncertainties in the production of Centaurs and 

183 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Deltas were eliminated, those vehicles continued to be funded under R&D 

convenience. Also, a substantial portion of R&D (and AO) funds was used to 

non-NASA personnel, whether they worked directly on projects or in gen

support; NASA employees, on the other hand, were paid out of AO regardles

the activity in which they were engaged. With this exception, there was 

hard-and-fast demarcation of categories. R&D included equipment funding, 

production costs of launch vehicles and overhead costs, as well as the costs inhe

in research and development. 

Accordingly, NASA appropriation titles and their line item entries can 

seriously misleading if taken at face value. There is nothing to show that constr

tion projects and other capital expenses were fully funded, that is, that the t

funds were requested and appropriated within a single fiscal year; or that ope

ing expenses were budgeted one year at a time; or that major R&D projects w

funded incrementally. Furthermore, annual appropriations only represented n

obligational authority, which was quite distinct from actual disbursements. 

table 7-1 shows, during fiscal years 1965 and 1966 NASA's obligations w

greater than its appropriations, and its expenditures were greater than eit

This was possible because of the lag between obligation of funds on a cont

(authority for the contractor to work) and expenditures (payments for w

actually performed). 

To compound the confusion further, the NASA budget included only th

programs for which funds were both authorized and appropriated. What did 

omit? It chiefly omitted those programs in the definition phase for which NA

had not yet sought authorization. For years the NASA authorization acts inclu

the following provision: 

No amount appropriated pursuant to this Act may be used for any frogram which has no

been presented to or requested of either [authorization) committee.' 

Yet when NASA presented its 1966 budget request to the S_enate Aeronautical 

Space Sciences Committee, members were surprised to learn that ne

$8 million in 1965 funds had been spent on one unauthorized program-Voya

Seamans explained that Voyager was a "project," not a "program"; that the fu

for Voyager had been reprogrammed from Mariner following the decision to s

conceptual studies of Voyager; and that NASA would request authorization o

management determined to go ahead with the program. 18 Thus to the quest

"When is a program not a program?," NASA could reply, "When it is a proje

In short, a line item entry for a major R&D program could not include 

direct and indirect costs. The total expenditures for a single program would h

to include funds reprogrammed, funds for facilities in support of the progr

and, in particular, it would have to account for the differences between the amo

appropriated, the amount obligated, and the amount spent. The following 

tions examine how these sums were determined. 

184 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

Table 7-1. - NASA requests, authorizations, appropriations, obligations, and 

disbursements-all appropriations, 1959-1968, in millions of dollars. 

Fiscal 

Year 

Budget 

Request Authorization Appropriation Obligations 1 Expenditures 1 

Total 34 756.7 33 700.4 32 399.8 32 082.2 30 446.4 

1959 146.6 146.6 146.6 

1959 280.02 259.2 184.3 3 298.7 145.5 

1960 508.3 490.3 523.6 4 487.0 401.0 

1961 964.6 970.0 964.0 908.3 744.3 

1962 1 940.3 1 855.3' 1 825.3 1 691.6 1 257.0 

1963 3 787.3 3 744.1 3 674.1 3 448.4 2 552.4 

1964 5 712.0 5 350.8 5 100.0 4 864.8 4 171.0 

1965 5 445.o• 5 227.5 5 250.0 7 5 500.7 5 092.9 

1966 5 260.0 5 190.4 5 175.0 5 350.5 5 932.9 

1967 5 012.0 5 000.4 4 968.0 5 011.8 5 425.7 

1968 5 100.0 4 865.8 4 588.9 4 520.4 4 723.7 

1 Actual obligations and disbursements during the fiscal year. 2 Requests for NACA/ NASA amounted to $280 054 000. Requests for transfers from DOD resulted in the 

transfer of $146 619 532 in obligational authority to NASA. 3 Includes SlOt 100 000 appropriated to NACA, S83 186 300 to NASA, and $146 619 532 transferred from 

DOD. 

4 S38 500 000 based on FY 1959 authorization Public Law 86-12. 

' Includes $71 000 000 supplemental for COF for which existing authorization was available. 6 Includes S\41 000 000 supplemental request for FY 1964 R&D program. 7 Includes $72 494 000 R&D supplemental against FY 1964 authorization. 

Source: NASA Data Book, table 4-4. 

The Preparation of the NASA Budget, 1958-1966 

Between 1958 and 1970 NASA drafted and submitted its budget requests to 

BOB within two different sets of Bureau guidelines. The first procedure was 

employed from 1958 to the end of FY 1966; beginning in FY 1967, NASA was 

required to submit program memorandums and special studies conforming to the 

planning-programming-budgeting system mandated for executive agencies by 

President Johnson in August 1965. What, specifically, did BOB demand of the 

agency in justifying its request? How did NASA submit requests for R&D 

programs, few of which could be fully funded and thus had to be spread over 

s_everal years for budgetary purposes? From 19 58 to 1966 the cycle began with the 

semiannual spring and fall previews. Although the spring preview was not a 

formal requirement, and actually preceded the letter from the Budget Director 

that began the cycle, it held certain advantages for top management. As "a 

185 
MANAGING NASA IN Ttf,&_,APOLLO ERA 

tentative and generalized first approximation," it eliminated marginal prog

elements, brought policy questions to the surface, and produced "a feedback 

program implementation then underway." 19 Wyatt's Office of Programming 

sembled the materials sent by the program offices, prepared a first draft of 

preliminary budget, and reviewed it at some length with top management. 

The spring preview took place in March, fifteen months before the sta

the fiscal year for which the budget was being prepared. Thus the review 

March 1964 concerned fiscal year 1966, which began on 1 July 1965. 

preliminary budget went to BOB in May, and it led to negotiations betw

management and the examiners of the Bureau's Military Division that contin

until late summer, when the Bureau provided budget targets at two levels of ef

This concluded the first phase of the NASA budget review.20 

By then NASA had begun to flesh out the details of its upcoming submiss

In August and September top management sent instructions to the program of

for detailed estimates. On 30 September NASA formally submitted its reque

BOB; during October and November Webb, Dryden, and Seamans met with 

Director of the Budget and the President; and by January the President's f

decisions had been converted into material for justifying the budget request be

the authorization and appropriations committees. On the basis of various B

staff papers, it does not seem that top management was deeply involved in 

details of the budget submission until the final stages of the cycle. In 196 7 

examiner thought it noteworthy that "unlike past years Mr. Webb has person

reviewed in great detail a variety of program alternatives . . . and has made 

major program and planning decisions himself." 21 Taken in context, this m

no more than that he wrote and signed certain program memorandums enu

ating his views on items in the 1968 budget. As a former Director of the Bud

Webb was aware that he could do more for NASA by establishing his agen

general posture toward the President's budget than by captious criticism of e

detail. Webb contributed to firming up the budget by meeting with his prog

directors during the semiannual reviews, by meeting with the Director of 

Budget to resolve any differences before the budget went to the Hill, and by u

his right of appeal to the President to settle those matters that could not be se

between the Director and himself-a right that was itself controlled by guidel

issued by BOB.Z2 

Three points about the budget review cycle deserve emphasis: the sourc

NASA's budget estimates, the multiyear character of NASA programs, and 

Bureau's role in paring down the NASA budget. First, how did NASA offic

match current expenditures against their requirements for the ensuing fiscal y

Estimates were made from the program operating plans (POPs) submitted q

terly by the field installations to the program offices and, through them, to 

general manager. The POP was a financial plan that served as a basis for bu

formulation, particularly when the greater part of the budget consisted of out

for programs approved earlier; as a check on overobligating and overspend

both forbidden by the so-called Anti-Deficiency Act; as a basis for the current 

186 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

operating plan; and as the baseline of "planned financial activity" against which 

actual financial performance could be measured.21 The POP system was an effective tool for measuring actual expenditures, although it had to be adjusted to the 

everchanging demands of complex programs. Thus in 1966 the Management 

Committee chaired by Deputy Administrator Seamans made changes designed to 

leave the POP system more flexible than it had been. The committee confirmed 

the practice of fully funding fixed-price contracts, recommended an integrated 

financial management plan for comparing approved with actual funding levels, 

and authorized the centers to deviate from planned funding levels, provided they 

could justify their actions.

24 

Second, NASA had to consider three budgets simultaneously: the current 

operating budget, the budget for the ensuing fiscal year, and the preliminary 

budget for the fiscal year after that. The interrelations of the budgets were important because a deficiency in one year might be made good by reprogramming 

or diverting funds the following year. The NASA budget submissions explicitly 

recognized these relations. Even before the agency was required to adopt the 

planning-programming-budgeting system, NASA was sending up budget estimates with five-year cost projections. To that extent, drafting preliminary estimates constrained NASA officials to do some kind of long-range planning: to 

decide, for example, which year would provide a suitable launch window for an 

interplanetary probe; to determine whether a new tracking station that would 

support several spacecraft should be started this year or next; and generally, to 

establish S<?me order of priorities. 

Third, the detailed negotiations between NASA and BOB went far to shape 

the content of the operating budget. For all the rhetoric and talk of "economy," 

Congress did little to alter the agency's requests before the 1967 session, and even 

then it followed the Bureau's lead. Between 1961 and 196 7 Congress cut the 

Administration's request by more than fO percent only once: In 1964 it reduced 

the NASA request from $5.712 billion to $5.100 billion (table 7-2). Unlike the 

Bureau's action, this was an across-the-board reduction rather than the elimination of entire programs. 

Actions of the Bureau, not Congress, led to canceling the last two Apollo 

flights; closing the Electronics Research Center; reducing Surveyor flights from 17 

to 10; freezing NASA excepted positions at 425; and eliminating certain programs 

before they reached the development stage, such as the Advanced Orbiting Solar 

Observatory canceled by NASA in December 1965.* The Bureau's strategy 

consisted of forcing NASA to make hard choices, to choose between programs that 

were merely desirable and those essential to the agency's mission. With only three 

or four individuals assigned to evaluate a $4 to $6 billion submission, and with 

several dozen budget officers in NASA prepared to justify every penny, the Bureau 

• It is also possible that the Bureau reduced NASA's requests to forestall action by a Congress that was in 

an economizing frame of mind. 

187 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Table 7-2.- NASA budget requests and appropriations, FY 1959-19

in millions of dollars. 

Fiscal Administration Amount 

Year Request Appropriated Perce

1959 s 280.0 s 222.8 20

1960 508.3 485.1 4

1961 964.6 964.0 

1962 1 940.3 1 825.3 5

1963 3 787.3 3 674.1 3

1964 5 712.0 5 100.0 10

1965 5 445.0 5 250.0 3

1966 5 260.0 5 175.0 1

1967 5 012.0 4 968.0 0

1968 5 100.0 4 588.9 10

1969 4 370.4 3 995.3 8

1970 3 715.5 3 696.6 0

1971 3 333.0 3 268.7 1

Source: Thomas P. Murphy, Science, Geopolitics, and Federal Spending (Lexington, Mass.: Heath L

ton, 1971), p. 364. 

could force reductions only by concentrating on a few large programs. Secu

the knowledge (after 1967) that the White House would not intervene to re

major cuts in the NASA budget, Bureau officials wasted no time in cutting 

The history of the NERV A* nuclear rocket program is a good example of 

BOB/OMB tactics worked. When Congress eliminated the very amb

NERVA II program in 1967, NASA kept the program alive at a more m

level. Sensing that the program was vulnerable, BOB/ OMB pared down N

budget requests over the next three years. By FY 1972 the program was b

alive; OMB reduced the NASA request for that year by nearly two-thirds, a

NERVA funding level dropped from $32 million to $9.9 million. Since no 

pect of an operational nuclear rocket remained, in January 1972 NASA el

to terminate NERV A in favor of a smaller nuclear rocket system. 

However, in some cases programs were kept alive when Congress res

funds eliminated by the Bureau. In January 1965, for example, NASA, u

pressure from the Bureau, announced that it would not request funds for the 

liquid-hydrogen engine, the SNAP-8 nuclear power system, or the 

(6.6-meter-diameter) solid-fuel rocket motor. Webb and Seamans were very 

ful to avoid the words "cancelation" and "termination" in referring to 

• Nudear Engine for Rocket Vehicle Application. 

188 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

development programs. As it happened, Congress restored funds sufficient to keep 

th~ large-solid-motor program alive for two more years, through the successful test 

finng of June 1967.2 

The de facto cancelation of the three programs was important because it was 

the first major cut by the Bureau and the President since early 1961. By 1965 the 

advantage of managing programs that did not have to compete with equally 

compelling alternatives was almost gone. By then, the most important Great 

Society programs had been enacted, and the war in Southeast Asia was claiming 

a growing percentage of the budget. NASA submissions were beginning to come 

under the cold, hard scrutiny of Budget examiners, who were demanding that 

NASA offer alternatives to existing programs, quantify the noneconomic benefits 

of space exploration, show that a program like Apollo Applications did not duplicate DOD's Manned Orbiting Laboratory, and, generally, adopt a level of 

analysis that would have been unnecessary a few years earlier. Until then NASA 

had seldom been "nickeled and dimed" by the Bureau; now there would be little 

else. There seems little doubt that Webb was no longer able to influence the 

President to restore budget cuts to the NASA program. That had not always been 

the case. Webb's meeting with President Kennedy on 22 March 1961, when 

Webb appealed for restoration of cuts made by BOB in a supplemental appropriation request, initiated Kennedy's "involvement in space policy which was to 

culminate .. . with his announcing his decision that the United States should 

attempt to send men to the moon." 26 In 1966 Johnson was no longer "the guy who 

said, I am your champion, I will go out there and fight your battles, I will get 

Kennedy and this Congress to give you the money." Instead, Johnson was telling 

Webb, "by God, I have got problems and you fellows are not cooperating with me. 

You could have reduced your expenditures last year and helped us out, you didn't 

do it." 27 

The Planning-Programming-Budgeting-System and the NASA Budget 

The budgetary cycle just described was superseded in 1967 by a system that 

was controversial out of all proportion to its effect ·on Federal budgeting. The 

planning-programming-budgeting system (PPBS), already used by DOD for its 

budgeting cycle, was extended to many civilian agencies in 1965. ZH The reasons for 

its success in shaping the DOD budget may account for its failure to "take" 

outside the Pentagon; in 1971 OMB ~uietly dropped the reporting requirements 

that were an essential part of PPBS. 'I The following section considers to what 

extent NASA's budget was "programmatic" before 1965 and why NASA failed 

to use the system in its internal planning. 

Taken in isolation, the basic concepts of PPBS were neither new nor revolutionary. The purpose of the system was to combine analysis with budgeting in 

order to determine the output for specific programs. The system was intended to 

make goals explicit, to estimate total program costs (direct and indirect) over 

several years, and to present alternative paths to the same objectives. Some of the 

189 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

analytical tools incorporated in PPBS had been available for years befo

introduction: the 1921 Budget and Accounting Act had given GAO broad p

to review Federal programs, and an act of 1956 had called on agencies to pr

long-range cost estimates and to maintain their accounts on an annual ac

expenditure basis.

30 What was novel was combining these and other budg

concepts in the Defense Department, when Robert McNamara became De

Secretary in 1961. PPBS tools were refined by a team of analysts, many of w

were recruited from the RAND Corporation; and it was such former RAND 

members as Charles J. Hitch, who became Assistant Secretary of Defense (C

troller), and Alain Enthoven, who headed the Pentagon Office of Systems 

ysis, who introduced DOD to the rigors of program budgeting. Few age

needed it more. The contrast between McNamara and his predecessors may 

been overdrawn; for all his cost-reduction programs and cancelation of we

systems like Skybolt and the B-70, there is little doubt that PPBS in the 

would have been impossible without the administrative reforms of the prec

decade, especially those embodied in the 1958 Reorganization Act (discus

chapter 8). Nevertheless, prior to 1961 there had been an almost complete d

between budgeting and military strategy within DOD. Budgeting had tend

be by service rather than by mission. Financial planning had been done 

annual basis, which led to premature commitments (and overcommitmen

weapons systems, as well as to considerable unnecessary duplication in the b

tic missile programs. Finally, there had been a "lack of reliable information o

costs of weapons systems .... new weapons systems generally ended up c

two to three times as much as they were estimated to cost when the program 

originally approved." 3 1 When McNamara became Defense Secretary 

40 percent of DOD development funds went for overruns on existing contra

None of these problems could be considered apart from the others

cost-estimation of military programs to be successful, several elements that 

lacking would have been required: clear identifications of task, valid data, est

updates, standardized work breakdown structures for estimates, independe

views of estimates, and the like. The newly instituted DOD program budg

procedures were designed to assemble everything necessary to track the rea

of programs. The Secretary of Defense was to be served by a central anal

staff, the Office of Systems Analysis, which reported directly to him and 

independent of service interests. Financial planning was to be done on a mul

basis. In addition to the annual budget, DOD officials would present Con

with a Five-Year Defense Plan, which included eight-year force projection

five-year projections of costs and manpower for the ten major military prog

into which the Defense budget was divided. 31 The plan combined cost

benefits, linked force with financial planning and, in Enthoven's words, "pro

a vehicle by which the Secretary of Defense could make program decisions a

them into the preparation of the annual budget." 34 PPBS, in sum, led to a 

integrated budget structure than DOD had yet known; with its empha

comparison of alternatives, the quantifying of outputs, and the use of 

190 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

effectiveness techniques, it seemed to offer a revolutionary planning system for 

Governmentwide use. 

This was not to be. PPBS disappeared; it "became an unthing" before it had 

really been tested outside DOD.35 The history of PPBS in NASA may explain 

why the system failed to make much of a dent in the bureaucracy, especially since 

NASA seemed more disposed to use it than did other agencies. The NASA budget 

anticipated some features of PPBS: five-year cost projections, organization by 

broad program categories, and a budget structure that identified and considered 

costs for a specific project together. NASA had a multiyear budget. In addition, 

aside from military interest in space, there was no division of responsibility for the 

conduct of the U.S. space program. Because the space program made use of 

systems like spacecraft and the vehicles that launched them, it seemed to lend itself 

especially well to program budgeting. In other words, "the space program consist[ed] mainly of a number of efforts to develop, test, manufacture and operate 

aggregations of physical equipment that perform clearly defined functions." 36 So 

confident were BOB officials of NASA's willingness to accept the system that one 

examiner confided that "it will not be a matter of selling them on a new approach, 

but more a matter of developing suggestions for worthwhile actions." 37 

Yet PPBS seems to have had very little effect on NASA budgeting. There 

were just enough similarities to make the reporting requirements of PPBS seem 

redundant, just enough differences to make it appear to be a threat to the stability 

of NASA program planning. The emphasis of the Pentagon Office of Systems 

Analysis on concentrating similar programs in one place suggested that PPBS 

might lead to amalgamation of NASA and DOD programs under single agency 

management. But the reasons for the failure of PPBS to take root in the Federal 

community in general and in NASA in particular go deeper. For one thing, it was 

oversold. President Johnson's endorsement of the system was enough to create 

suspicion that PPBS was too true to be good, that the system was nothing more 

than a gimmick. At the press conference in which PPBS was instituted, Johnson 

said that 

under the new system each Cabinet and agency head will set up a very special staff of experts 

who, using the most modern methods of program analysis, will define the goals of the departments for the coming year.38 

PPBS would "make our decisionmaking process as up to date .. . as our spaceexploring programs." The thrust of Johnson's message was that program budgeting would be imposed from the outside and, by implication, that most executive 

agencies were not equipped to understand the objective, scientific basis for decision 

making. The result is no surprise: Many of the agencies affected were quietly 

hostile to PPBS, although some were more than others. Agencies like the Department of Agriculture and the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare 

(DHEW) needed the integrated planning that PPBS purported to supply far 

more than NASA did. In the former, the principal constraint on program manage191 
MANAGING NASA IN· THE APOLLO ERA 

ment was the difficulty of discovering what the various bureaus and 

autonomous divisions actually did. DHEW and Agriculture had incentives 

PPBS that simply did not exist for NASA. Unlike NASA, neither agehcy ha

kind of planning apparatus, especially for long-term planning. PPBS seem

open the way for the Department Secretaries to gain some control ov

bureaus-which were ostensibly subordinate but in reality semi-independ

that comprised their departments.

39 Additionally, a rigorous system of 

analysis might establish the costs and benefits of the programs supported b

example, the U.S. Office of Education, or it might establish the continued ne

the Rural Electrification Administration, at a time when 99 percent of al

farms were connected to regional power grids. 

In general, PPBS could not be implemented where the agency head g

no support. In cases of agency indifference or hostility, the system became m

one more reporting requirement imposed by BOB's Circular A-11. Webb

tude was colored by his experience as President Truman's Budget Dir

Moreover, he consistently opposed the delegation of responsibility for m

decisions to any group of experts; this was the basis for his rejection, in 19

a proposal that NASA establish a general advisory committee of outside sci

to map a policy for the agency's space science programs. Whatever he migh

said publicly, Webb was fundamentally sceptical of any system or techniqu

promised a "quick fix" to the uncertainties of research and development. 

explained to Budget Director Charles L. Schultze, one of the prime movers 

development of PPBS, the system promised a delusive certainty for program

long J.'ead times; NASA programs were not usually amenable to cost-effecti

analysis; and the requirements of multiyear planning, "if literally insisted 

could serve to deprive the agency head, the Bureau of the Budget, an

President of much of the flexibility they need." 

The problem, as I see it, is to devise a procedure which will provide for essential and us

long-range planning of alternatives, and with the necessary information .. . communic

to the Bureau of the Budget for review, without requiring either the agency or the Bu

to give official status prematurely to a particular plan or action. To set such priorities 

firmly in advance also invites constant and ingenious pressures to enlarge areas of sp

interest. 40 

Webb's lack of enthusiasm, the prior existence of a programmatic budg

reluctance of officials to commit themselves in advance to programs of unc

duration and funding, and the nonquantifiable nature of NASA's o

sufficiently account for the insignificant role that PPBS played in post-A

planning. The essential difference between DHEW and NASA was that th

mer was, so to speak, the sum total of numerous quasi-autonomous div

while NASA was organized around projects whose successes or failures 

obvious and unambiguous. In short, "much of what [Agriculture] or HEW 

erated in the form of information for use by management under PPB

something NASA already had." 41 

192 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

Consider the failure of PPBS from another perspective. Why did PPBS appear to succeed at the Pentagon, only to fail elsewhere? Principally because the 

Defense Secretary wanted independent analytical support and because he used 

the results of the analysis in preparing the budget requests that went to the 

President. Only superficially were the draft Presidential memorandums (DPMs), 

prepared by the DOD Office of Systems Analysis, the same as the program 

memorandums (PMs) required of civilian agencies. "The critical difference was 

that the DPM was sent to the President, while the Program Memorandums went 

to the Budget Bureau .... The DPM was a decisional document; the PM only 

an intermediate step in the long process of budgeting .... The DPM was prepared by systems analysts to reflect McNamara's views; the PM was composed by 

analysts removed from the centers of power." 42 The concept of PPBS assumed a 

central "steersman" who directed and shaped agency policy. But as the analysis 

of headquarters organization in chapter 3 shows, and as other studies of public 

administration confirm, "the chief problem of the central administrator is to pick 

and choose a limited number of places and situations for strategic intervention, 

rather than seriously trying to 'steer the ship' in any detailed way. 43 Had PPBS 

been rigorously applied within NASA, it would have seriously limited the discretion of the centers and program offices in carrying out the agency's mission. 

The NASA Budgetary Cycle, 1967-1970 

The introduction of PPBS did not immediately lead to any formal changes 

in shaping the NASA budget. The first, rather tentative guidelines, issued in 

October 1965 by BOB, explained the purpose of the system and described the 

three documents that agencies would henceforth submit: the program memorandum, which would cover each of the agency's programs, compare it with 

various alternatives, outline its assumptions, and list projected costs; special analytical studies in selected areas; and the program and financial plan (PFP), which 

would set forth projected funding in tabular form. 44 The program categories to be 

used would be determined by the Budget Director in consultation with agency 

heads who, in turn, would assemble a. staff to handle PPBS requirements. 

How did these guidelines impinge on NASA? In organizational terms they 

had almost no effect. Webb established no new division to deal with PPBS. Instead, the work of drafting program memorandums, special studies, and PFPs was 

parceled out to offices burdened with other responsibilities. Indeed, the 1967 reorganization went completely against the grain of PPBS by splitting budget preparation from technical review. Webb virtually assured that there would be no 

division below the level of the Office of the Administrator to coordinate budget 

preparation. More precisely, the 1967 changes concentrated the responsibility for 

preparing the budget in Lilly's Office of Administration, not in Wyatt's new 

Office of Program Plans and Analysis. Lilly became the NASA Comptroller de 

facto five years before that position was created to take account of budgetary 

193 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

realities. The fate of the Office of Program Plans and Analysis illustr

familiar pattern in NASA administration: No planning office has had 

influence in shaping policy once it was divorced from daily operations. So 

one can tell, the creation of Program Plans and Analysis had nothing to do 

BOB requirements and almost everything to do with power shifts at headqu

in the aftermath of the Apollo fire. 

The first cycle in which NASA was required to use the PPBS approac

in 1966-1967, for the FY 1968 budget. To complicate matters further, thi

when NASA at last set into motion its apparatus for post-Apollo planning. B

spring of 196 7, several groups were working concurrently on different seg

of the budget. Wyatt's office drafted program memorandums; the Reso

Analysis Division of the Office of Administration prepared the PFPs; an

program offices made the special analytical studies requested by BOB. By 

PPBS and the agency's own internal planning were so intertwined that i

hard to know where one left off and the other began. The program offices

all, were commissioning their own advanced studies; one on large space st

even was accepted by the Bureau to meet the analytical studies requireme

addition, a Planning Coordination Steering Group had been created by the 

gram directors at the end of 1965 to do long-range planning in selected 

much of its work, and that of its supporting working groups, paralleled the r

demanded by the Bureau. One finds the same elements in either case, partic

the emphasis on analyzing options for specific programs. Yet there was little

for the staff support of the Office of Program Plans and Analysis, to lin

planning teams with each other. 

By the fall of 1967 NASA had had some experience of the system man

by BOB, yet that system was not widely understood within the Bureau itself

staff papers of the Bureau examiners reveal that PPBS was not worki

intended: NASA officials were not meeting budgetary schedules and the B

was not working with NASA planning groups to validate their cost estimat

any case, the events of that year, including the Apollo fire, made coherent pla

very difficult. During 1967 NASA and the Bureau were reorganized, makin

the first budgetary cycle for many in both agencies.* The internal reviews 

Apollo fire preoccupied every key official for months, affecting costs and sch

in areas that used two-thirds of NASA's funds. Congress had reported, an

President had agreed to, a $500 million appropriation cut in August, thus f

rna jor program changes on NASA. For the first time since 1961 (except f

1964 reductions noted above) Congress rather than the Bureau cut the N

budget request: Voyager and Advanced Manned Missions were deleted in c

ence, and NASA did not define its current year operating plan until Nove

Finally, the simultaneous hearings on the Apollo fire and the 1968 authori

tied up the agency for months; something had to give, and that something w

• One of the changes within the Bureau was the establishment of an Economics, Science, and Tec

Division, headed by Jack Young, to monitor the NASA budget. 

194 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

agency's planning structure. Both sides, NASA and BOB, were accountable for 

the shortcomings of the 1967 budget cycle: BOB because it did not develop 

methods refined enough to evaluate the benefits of alternative space missions; 

NASA because it allowed itself to be overtaken by events and because of divided 

counsels and the loss of morale throughout the agency. A BOB examiner summed 

up the situation just after NASA received its appropriations for 1968: 

Morale is bad throughout NASA because of its first beating at the hands of Congress in the 

agency's history, the lack of Presidential support . .. the Apollo fire and other severe technical problems and schedule delays, and the strict guidelines for the 1968 budget. Mr. Webb 

is under siege by his staff for not fighting as hard as they think he should for their programs, 

by Congressional critics for a variety of assumed slights and irritations, and by the trade press 

which tends to blame him for all NASA's current problems, both internal and external.45 

The instinct of the Bureau examiners was to cut, pare, and slash requests they 

deemed wasteful. All too often, what was meant as program analysis ended up 

indistinguishable from plain old economizing. 

In truth, there were events external to the space program that made it 

impossible to evaluate proposals on their merits. NASA requests were cut back 

steadily by the Bureau after 1966, not because they lacked virtues that earlier 

requests possessed, but because of the Vietnam War, a balance-of-payments 

deficit, an overheated economy, and the higher priorities of Great Society pro-

. grams. Johnson wanted to reduce spending without sacrificing the substance of his 

social commitments. When the NASA authorization bill was sent to the White 

House in August 1967 for Johnson's signature, Schultze and Presidential Assistant Joseph Califano listed the pros and cons of the President's issuing a statement 

before signing the bill. In signing, Johnson would in effect accept a $517 million 

reduction already voted by the House Appropriations Committee. Schultze argued 

that by issuing a statement, "it will help avoid later charges by supporters of the 

space program of a double cross. Eventually we are going to have to cut at least 

this much from the space program. If supporters of the program ... fight for and 

get some restoration of this cut only to be faced with an administration-initiated 

reduction, they may charge bad faith. "41

' Hence Schultze's warning to Webb: 

"Avoid making commitments .. . for increases above the levels at which you are 

operating .... Exercise special prudence in filling vacancies ... . Except when 

major Presidential items are concerned, avoid appealing for restoration of congressional cuts in recommended appropriations." 47 

The changes in PPBS after 1967 should be considered in terms of NASA's 

long-range planning rather than its budgeting. In any case, the future of program 

budgeting became less certain once Johnson announced his decision not to run for 

reelection in 1968. Thus the program decisions generated by the Administration 

could have, at most, a provisional validity. More important, neither President 

Nixon -nor his Budget Directors had much faith in the assumptions on which 

PPBS was based. By reorganizing BOB as the Office of Management and Budget 

195 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

(OMB) and by establishing a Domestic Council within the Executive 

Nixon separated budgeting from program analysis as thoroughly as Web

done for NASA in 1967. The formulation of policy would take place outsi

budgetary process. In Schick's words, "budgeting would operate alongsid

gram coordination . . .. and other administrative functions. It would not 

central process for shaping the President's program and analyzing policy al

tives."4x The separation of the Domestic Council from OMB and the subse

elimination of the reporting requirements developed by Schultze and hi

effectively killed PPBS. 

So much for the formal and procedural aspects of NASA's budget pr

tion. Chapter 9 offers a consideration of the substantive content of N

program memorandums and ~pedal studies and of their effect on the ag

long-range planning. Now the discussion turns to Congress and to the fate 

NASA budget request once it was approved by BOB and sent to the Hill

The Authorization and Appropriation Cycle 

For NASA the critical program choices were made and reviewed in the 

phases of the budgetary cycle. As discussed above, most of the substantial cut

made by the President or the Budget Director before the NASA budget w

Congress. Until 1967 the sheer complexity of legislative review tended to w

NASA's favor. The process of review might, with luck, timing, and politica

lead to appropriations that were at best higher and at worst no more than 1

cent lower than the original submission. 

The following were the principal stages in the cycle of congressional r

1. Initial hearings before the House and the Senate authorization comm

followed by passage of House and Senate authorization bills after deb

the floor of each House. 

2. Similar review by the House and Senate appropriations subcomm

responsible for the NASA budget. 

3. Convening conference committees to resolve differences in the versions 

authorization and appropriations bills passed by each House. 

4. Passage of the final authorization and appropriation acts. 

The important features of the cycle were, first, that NASA had to seek 

authorizing legislation before it could secure-appropriations; second, that th

of power tended to shift from the appropriations subcommittees to the leg

committees once the annual authorization requirement became permanent

the lengths to which NASA went to avoid friction with its committees; fina

temporary erosion of some good will in Congress, owing to the disclosure 

events leading to the Apollo fire, NASA's reluctance to submit a complete c

196 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

the Phillips report, and the agency's failure to present Congress with a coherent 

post-Apollo program. 

The annual authorization requirement stemmed from the "Johnson rider" 

to NASA's first appropriation act in 1959, a requirement extended indefinitely a 

year later. Before 1959 most agencies were permanently authorized, and their 

only recurring hearings were before their appropriations committees. In that year, 

the authorization requirement was extended not only to NASA but to all expenditures for "aircraft, missiles, and naval vessels"; in 1962, to all new military 

research and development programs; in 1963, to the Coast Guard's construction 

and procurement programs; and by 1966, to the Peace Corps, the Atomic Energy 

Commission, and the Agency for International Development.49 The authorization 

requirement doubled the number of annual reviews of NASA programs. But it 

signified more; the leaders of both Houses wanted "control" and "oversight" 

authority before administrative action was taken, as well as review after the fact. 

The authorization committees, especially the House Science and Astronautics 

Committee, developed staffing and review procedures to keep informed of every 

phase of the civilian space program. The House committee was divided into 

subcommittees corresponding to each of the NASA program offices; and these, 

especially the Manned Space Flight Subcommittee chaired by Representative 

Olin Teague (D-Tex.), expected to be fully briefed at the centers by key program officials.50 They, rather than the full committee, reviewed and passed on 

NASA requests. 

The authorization committees acted to shape NASA programs in three 

closely related ways. First, the bills reported out of committee set the ceiling, the 

maximum, for NASA appropriations. Second, the committee reports accompanying the authorizing legislation imposed limitations and preconditions on how the 

funds made available could be spent. Third, the committees prescribed the conditions under which NASA could reprogram or transfer between accounts, as well 

as the percentages and dollar sums involved. (Of some 130 reprogramming motions made by NASA between 1958 and 1969, virtually all were approved.) And 

the committees were extremely sensitive to any sign that NASA was trying to 

outflank them. In 1969, for example, the members of the Senate Aeronautical and 

Space Sciences Committee learned that the MSC Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 

originally authorized at $8.1 million, would be completed for approximately 

$16 million, most of which was accounted for by equipment provided out of R&D 

funds. They also discovered that NASA had built a neutral buoyancy facility at 

Marshall-a gigantic water tank to simulate weightlessness-using over $1 million of R&D money after the committees had denied funding under COF. To 

prevent this from recurring, the committee reaffirmed and wrote into the 1970 

Authorization Act a provision that required NASA to notify the authorizing 

committees of intent to use R&D funds for any facility whose cost (including 

collateral equipment) would exceed $250 000. They further requested that every 

facilities project include "the total estimated costs necessary to provide for a 

completely operable facility." The same act also canceled unfunded authorizations 

197 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

for fiscal years 196 7-1969, that is, funds for which no appropriations were 

committee members suspected that NASA was requesting more money tha

necessary.51 

By virtue of their authority to review the substantive content of 

programs, the authorization committees were b~st able to consider the age

a whole. The appropriations committees had to review numerous indep

agencies, while the authorization committees reviewed at most two or 

including NASA and agencies like the National Science Foundation a

National Bureau of Standards. There were certain differences between th

mittees, differences subtly reflected in the language of their reports. Wh

House Science and Astronautics Committee "recommended," the Senate 

nautical and Space Sciences Committee "concurred." Because the House co

tee generally initiated the NASA authorization hearings, the Senate com

could act as a court of appeal to restore cuts made by the former. Since the 

committee had no subcommittees, its review was less exhaustive than that 

House, which was doubtless a welcome relief for NASA officials who had t

the trip up the Hill. 

Aside from limitations written into authorizing legislation, the many 

mendations included in the reports, although not binding, tested NASA's r

siveness to congressional advice. Thus the 1964 act and subsequent author

acts urged NASA to distribute R&D funds on a geographical basis. 2 5 A 196

paper listed occasions when NASA took action "consonant with" advice con

in reports of the Science and Astronautics Committee.53 The committee d

the need for a lunar roving vehicle experiment for Surveyor; NASA discon

the development. The committee instructed that the thirteenth, fourteenth, a

teenth Ranger spacecraft be dropped; NASA deleted the last six, which s

that NASA would have discontinued the program even without prodding fr

House. The committee further requested that NASA not proceed with th

tronics Research Center until the agency had submitted a detailed report j

ing the center and the site selection procedure; NASA submitted the rep

1 February 1964 and did not proceed with the center until after the repo

submitted. As a final example, the committee recommended reducing the M

program by $15 million to eliminate a 1965 Venus flyby; NASA cance

miSSIOn. 

However, NASA did not invariably conform to congressional reco

dations. In its 1964 report, the Science and Astronautics Committee suggest

NASA seriously consider closing its Flight Research Center, since there 

to be no reason for its continued existence beyond the X-15 program. 

replied that the X-15 was an ongoing program and that research on high

aeronautical flight called for the center's continued operation. Moreover, 

would not comply with committee recommendations where it believed itsel

qualified to pass on the technical merits of programs; for this reason, the 

did not follow the suggestion of the Science and Astronautics Committee t

solid-fuel over liquid-fuel propulsion research.54 NASA took note of but 

198 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

strictly comply with the committee's expressed wish that R&D funds be distributed on a geographical basis. Although NASA officials pointed to the use of 

subcontracts for distributing R&D money; there is little to show that contracts 

were let in order to maintain the regional parity that both Houses encouraged.* 

Thus NASA complied with Congress where it could safely do so, and it 

reserved the right to determine its needs in other matters. Until1967 NASA could 

count on strong support in the House and the Senate. All four of the committees 

that reviewed the agency's budget were chaired by members from districts (or 

regions) where NASA had placed large contracts. Representative George Miller 

(D-Calif.) was chairman of the Science and Astronautics Committee from 1961 

to 1972. Senator Clinton Anderson (D-New Mex.), of the Aeronautical and Space 

Sciences Committee from 1963 to 1973, was also a member and sometime chairman of the Joint Committee on Atomic Energy. Albert Thomas (D-Tex.), the 

powerful chairman of the House Independent Offices Appropriations Subcommittee, was succeeded in 1966 by Tennessee Democrat Joe Evins; his Senate 

counterpart was Warren Magnuson (D-Wash.). Yet it would be as foolish to 

overestimate the importance of regional influences as it would be to ignore them 

entirely. For one thing, there were supporters of the space program, like Senator 

Margaret Chase Smith (R-Mafne), who represented regions with which NASA 

did very little business, even indirectly. For another, many field centers and a 

goodly portion of the aerospace industry were already in place when NASA was 

established; for reasons predating NASA, it would have been exceedingly difficult 

for the agency to place prime contracts, say, for Apollo, outside those regions 

where the capability already existed, which were mainly, although by no means 

exclusively, southern California, Texas, the Southeastern States, and the New 

York and Boston areas. But most important, the so-called "political" decisions, 

like the selection of Houston as the site of the Manned Spacecraft Center, were 

no more (or less) political than the programs that first led to the decision to 

transfer the Space Task Group to a new installation. Granted that the Vice 

President (who was also the Space Council chairman), the Speaker of the House, 

the chairman of the House Independent Offices Appropriations Subcommittee, 

and the chairman of the House Manned Space Flight Subcommittee were Texans. 

There were other good reasons for selecting Houston: it was well located in relation to Marshall and the Cape, and it had some of the best port facilities in the 

country.55 As Murphy notes, "there were some powerful political figures in 

virtually every major metropolitan area where NASA might have put a facility. 

The series of location decisions led to an integrated system of facilities and in none 

of the cases involved did NASA select an unlikely or unsuitable site." 56 Moreover, 

the kind of political support gained by these decisions was emphatically a perishable good. As President, Johnson had other constituencies to satisfy than when he 

had been chairman of the Space Council. Nor did NASA's accumulated good will 

• NASA had more funding flexibility in its university programs, since supportable work could usually be 

found in any large geographical region. 

199 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

survive the Apollo fire, BOB cuts, and the establishment of other prioritie

mid-1960s. 

To understand, then, how NASA worked with and through Congre

·must recognize other strategies that were more important than the major 

source selection decisions; the latter were essentially nonrecurring. One tac

the exceptional thoroughness with which NASA prepared for its annual he

No more than other agencies could NASA afford to come before Cong

prepared. But sometimes the very thoroughness of the presentations te

obscure the points being made. During the 1968 authorization hearings, m

of one Science and Astronautics Subcommittee "received a lengthy lecture 

effect of control lag on the dynamic stability of aircraft, saw slides depic

failure data for alkaline batteries under simulated space use, and learned th

of heat stabilization on battery separator materials." 57 Without technic

support, it is unlikely that Congressmen could make much of such briefi

often, it seemed as if NASA wanted to win committee votes by the sheer 

the information it supplied. NASA's congressional hearings could cut bot

The committees were impressed by the thoroughness and tidiness of N

budget requests, a thoroughness intended to leave no doubt of the rightnes

agency's position. But that same thoroughness also irritated those Congr

who had to pass on the NASA budget. As one frustrated subcommittee 

man-who was by no means unfriendly to NASA-told NASA Director o

Sciences Newell: 

Another real problem ... which makes it difficult for the committee to function prop

that we never get two sides of the argument. It is fairly easy for me to make up my m

to who is right or wrong ... on the question of medicare, or tax reduction .. . because 

someone else doing my research for me . .. there are those who are opposed and wh

mention all of the reasons why this act should not be allowed, and there are those on the 

side who give all the reasons why it should be allowed . . .. We don't have people appe

before this committee in opposition to the manned lunar landing program . . . or the Sur

program, or whatever it is . . .. once I think the committee should lose confidence 

judgment or in the veracity of the statement that is being given . .. I think probably it 

be extremely disastrous.58 

It was crucial that NASA's top officials be selected for their ability 

along with Congress. Glennan and Webb were careful to observe several 

the game: keep the committees fully informed, even beyond statutory r

ments; never present Congress with accomplished facts, such as "foot-in-th

programs that might commit the legislature to huge and continuing ap

ations; respond to the mood of Congress by taking timely administrative 

and live within the funds voted, that is, not request supplemental approp

unless such requests were unavoidable.* All these rules might be summa

follows: The head of the agency had to be able to sense what Congress wo

• Congress was more than normavy unpredictable in passing on supplementals. NASA's request f

million supplemental for FY 1964 was cut by half. 

200 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

would not accept. As discussed, NASA tried to bring its advanced studies under 

some kind of control, lest Congress interpret them as studies of programs already 

approved by top management. This is why Seamans withdrew his approval of 

twenty-two studies in August 1967 and why NASA canceled an ill-timed study 

proposed by MSC for a manned Mars and Venus reconnaissance spacecraft. In 

other cases, NASA tried to anticipate the inclination of Congress. After being 

criticized for spending too little on aeronautical R&D, NASA established the 

position of Deputy Associate Administrator for Aeronautics (OART) in May 

1967. To forestall a congressional investigation of the Centaur program, NASA 

transferred the program from Marshall to Lewis in October 1962. When the 

House subcommittees pressured NASA to spend more on unmanned space science, NASA created the Lunar and Planetary Missions Board, ostensibly to 

involve outside scientists in tactical as well as strategic decision making. And in 

one case, the 1964 investigation of the Ranger 6 failure, NASA seems to have tried 

it both ways: It used the hearings both as a forum for justifying its relations with 

JPL and as an implied threat to JPL to improve its managerial and technical 

performance. 

All these examples were, so to speak, actions at a distance. Although it was 

a response to an internal need, the decision to transfer Centaur was reinforced by 

the mood of the Congress. Needless to say, top NASA officials had to know their 

way around the Hill and how to deal directly with Congress. The Administrator 

not only had to speak on behalf of the agency but also had to anticipate budget cuts 

and to use personal influence either to avoid them or to restore whatever had been 

eliminated. One example that may stand for many occurred when the NASA 

appropriations bill reached the floor of the Senate in August 1966. Senator 

William Proxmire (D-Wis.) introduced two bills to cut the 1967 authorization by 

$500 million and $156 million. Webb and his allies acted promptly. Senator 

Anderson "bolted his back and said, '$5 billion is the psychological level and I am 

going to do everything in my power to keep you from dropping below $5 billion.'" 

Webb 

had to round up Senators out of the boondocks ... and get a live pair not to lose the Proxmire 

amendment .... I have to tell (Stuart] Symington, who is the senior Democrat on the 

[Aeronautical and Space Sciences] Committee that I was going to interpret his vote as a 

personal vote of confidence or a vote of no confidence in me personally because he was 

prepared to support(?) us on the SSOO million cut and to vote with Dick Russell .. . to cut 

us S 160 million on the second Proxmire amendment . 

. . . You have got to estimate this situation as accurately as we estimate the other elements 

of success in our business and I don't think that I am giving you anything except cold reality. 59 

Both motions were defeated.* 

• On another occasion, when the chairman of the House Appropriations Committee tried to reduce the NASA 

budget by close to S I billion, NASA officials managed to kill the move by going to all the subcommittee chairmen 

and impressing them with the fact that if this could happen to NASA, then it could happen in their own areas. 

lp this way, the various members of the main Appropriations Committee were able, in a sense, to "take it away 

from the chairman." 

201 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

NASA could woo Congress with briefings at the centers and 

presentations for the benefits of the committees. But the ability of NAS

officials to twist arms or successfully threaten the collapse of the space p

in the absence of funding was no small asset either. 

What has been said so far applies mainly to events preceding the Apo

Had there been no fire, the NASA budget would probably have tapered o

Apollo mission was completed, construction was ended, and the costs o

ardized launch vehicles became more predictable. To exaggerate, the fire 

great divide; for the first time since 1961 Congress began to question 

budget requests, to eliminate (and not merely reduce) line items, and, in 

to make the NASA budget very austere indeed. To this point, the discus

concerned the procedural aspect-the "how" of the budgetary process. I

time to consider the substantive changes within the NASA budget: ho

outlays grew and then declined rapidly, how NASA fitted into certain mo

eral patterns of Federal R&D spending, and how other Federal progra

pinged on NASA's programs. 

FEDERAL R&D SPENDING IN THE 1960s 

Broadly speaking, there are three ways to look at the NASA budget. 

regard it as a percentage of the Federal budget, especially of the portion fo

one can chart the growth rate of specific program categories; or one can 

entire NASA budget and consider the most important changes from the K

administration until 1970. A useful analysis may begin by considering tot

spending during the period under consideration. As a proportion of the g

tional product (GNP), total R&D funding rose to 3.0 percent in 1964 

clined to 2.6 percent in 1970.60 The ratio of R&D expenditures to total 

budget outlays declined from 12.4 percent in 1965 to an estimated 7.4 pe

1972.

61 Although these figures are useful indicators of gross trends in 

spending, one must look at specific programs to see what the trend

amounted to (figures 7-1 and 7-2). 

First, from 1960 to 1966 the steepest growth rates were influenced 

expansion of the space program; the decline of the program led to a corres

drop in Federal R&D spending. The history of NASA funding, its dram

and fall, was unique among R&D categories, most of which either re

stable or showed steady growth. What one sees in the late 1960s is a 

absolute dollars for R&D, a drop in R&D spending as a percentage 

Federal outlays, and significant increases in R&D for programs or agenc

had previously spent little in this area. Some of the largest percentage i

in R&D spending after 1966 occurred in community development and 

programs; education and manpower programs, mostly sponsored by t

Office of Education and the National Science Foundation; transportation

ing joint NASA-DOT programs such as the supersonic transport and th

202 
(BILLIONS OF DOLLARS} 

21 

14 

7 

62 64 66 68 70 72 

IESTJ 

THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

Source: National Science Foundation, An Analysis of Federal R&D Spending by Budget Function I NSF 

71-25}, p. 1. 

Figure 7-1. - Federal R&D expenditures, FY 1960-1972. 

I PERCENT} 

15 

10 

5 

62 64 66 68 70 72 

lEST.} 

Source: National Science Foundation, An Analysis of Federal R&D Spending by Budget Function INSF 

71 -25}, p. 1. 

Figure 7-2.- Ratio ofR & D expenditures to total outlays, FY 1960-1972. 

203 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

engine program; and environmental and national resources programs that, wh

constituting only a modest percentage of Federal R&D spending, showed 

largest relative growth from about 1971. In a sense, the increases for th

programs can be considered independently of the fate of the NASA bud

Agencies such as the Department of Housing and Urban Development or 

Office of Education are not R&D agencies in the sense that NASA and 

National Institutes of Health are. Rather, there was a shift in spending fr

R&D to social welfare programs, whether or not they had R&D components

this context, it is worth noting that although health outlays between 1966 a

1970 rose at a much higher average annual rate than any other function, alm

all of the increase was attributable to funding the Medicare and Medicaid p

grams, beginning in 1966.62 

The issue is not that funding for space declined in order to provide for so

services. Features that were built into the space program, like the completion 

facilities projects or the standardization of launch vehicles, would have redu

NASA spending even without competing programs. This is not to deny t

Johnson and Nixon intended to cut the space budget in order to save their so

welfare programs. But did the former decline because the latter increased? 

prove that it did, one would need to know the extent to which funding for so

programs simply marked a redistribution of existing dollars. If a causal relat

existed, the space budget could be expected to resume its growth as the growth r

of domestic spending began to level off. However, independently of any shift

domestic spending, the NASA budget declined for nine consecutive fiscal ye

beginning in 196 7. 

The decline of NASA spending as a percentage of Federal spending was 

result of many concurrent trends. On one hand, NASA continued to claim a la

percentage of R&D funds; in 1972 defense, space, and atomic energy accoun

for 86 percent of federal R&D spending.63 But R&D itself declined steadily a

percentage of the budget. To a degree this was because BOB/ OMB and Congr

began to question not only the kinds of research being funded but the rationale 

doing such research at all. Hence the rider to the 1970 military authorization 

(the so-called "Mansfield Amendment"), which forbade the use of appropriati

for research projects or studies "unless such project or study has a direct 

apparent relationship to a specific military function or operations."64 Altho

Congress viewed NASA and DOD requests much more sceptically than it had 

years before, there is little evidence that either Congress or BOB/ OMB had 

comprehensive scheme to redistribute R&D funds to domestic programs. T 

budgetary process did not work that way, nor were social investment and serv

all of one sort. Rather, the social programs-instituted by Johnson, continued 

Nixon-have claimed a larger percentage of the budget since 1965. The princ

increases were in retirement, disability and unemployment compensation, 

creation of new low-income assistance programs for the poor, and the expans

( 1965- 1970) of social service programs in education, health, and manpo

training. Together, the last three categories accounted for nearly 11 percen

204 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

GNP (nonrecession) in 1970. 65 Income security alone rose from 21 percent of the 

budget in 1960 to an estimated 29 percent in 1972. 66 By comparison, NASA's 

share of the budget, which peaked at 4. 7 percent in 1966, declined to 1.5 percent 

in 1972.67 

TRENDS IN NASA PROGRAM CATEGORIES 

The agency's program categories reflected the rise and fall that characterized 

the budget as a whole. The term "programs" is used here rather than appropriation accounts because of disadvantages in using the latter as yardsticks, including 

the use of R&D money for facilities projects, which distorts the real expenditures 

for R&D programs; the continual reprogrammings within accounts; the difficulty 

of discriminating between new obligational authority and actual outlays during 

the fiscal year; and the use of funds for both NASA and contractor employees. A 

categorical breakdown gives some idea of where the money went. The National 

Science Foundation (NSF) has classified all NASA activities as "space research 

and technology."* According to the NSF categories, NASA was the only Federal 

agency to conduct activities that involved either R&D or construction of R&D 

facilities. Moreover, the latter category declined steadily as major construction 

projects were completed; by the late 1960s the bulk of NASA facilities spending 

was for capital equipment rather than R&D plant construction. By 1970 such outlays represented less than 2 percent of total expenditures, and they were at no time 

more than 14 percent.68 Trends in R&D expenditures are shown in figure 7-3. 

The principal trends in NASA outlays are readily apparent: the high proportion of funds spent on manned spaceflight and the sharp and steady decline in such 

funding after 1966; the parallel funding patterns for space science and applications, with a renewed spurt in 1968-1969 as Viking, Pioneers F and G, and 

Mariner 1971 got under way; the leveling-off for supporting space technology, 

principally in tracking ships and aircraft for Apollo; and the steady growth in 

aircraft technology since 1963, especially in the form of nonreimbursfible support 

for programs sponsored by FAA and DOD. Except for the last category, 1966 was 

the turning point, as measured by almost any standard. The decline of manned 

spaceflight (after completion of Gemini and with approaching completion of the 

heaviest investment in Saturn and Apollo), which in 1966 accounted for 71 percent of NASA outlays, was mainly responsible for the cutback in the average 

annual growth rate for R&D spending after 1966. 

A related question concerns the effect of the funding levels on different 

agency functions. By definition, supporting space technology would tend to rise 

and fall with the programs it supported. But the relation between the funding 

*DOD space programs were placed in a separate "military astronautics" category. The sharp drop in spend- ing for military space R&D in 1969 was due mainly to the cancelation of the Air Force Manned Orbiting Laboratory. 

205 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

(MILLIONS OF DOLLARS) 

4000 

3000 

2000 

1000 

900 

800 

700 

I 

: 

! 

I 

I 

• I 

• I 

, 

, 

, 

,... .. /, ..... ,.,. 

/ /:_ '• 

I , MANNED SPACE FLIGHT ' • ..... 

........ 

SPACE SCIENCE AND APPLICATIONS· 

.... ----- .. , / , ... , ,,... __ , 

600 

500 

400 

/,,'SPACE TECHNOLOGY 

,, 

•1 ).--'' -~---::::--........ 

I,' ,' /.UPPO~NG SPACE ACTI:.;;:~ ., 

l' I 

300 

200 

100 

90 

80 

70 

i i( I .. 

........... 

.· .. ··· ·'( .. I I 

-· I 

I f 

I I ~.l I 60 

v·· .. J 50 

40 

30 

,. . . . . . . . . . 

I 

v 

20 

10 

1960 

I I I 

62 

. . . 

. . AIRCRAFT TECHNOLOGY- . .. . . 

. . 

I I I I I I I I 

64 66 68 70 72 

FISCAL YEAR !EST.) 

Source: National Science Foundation, An Analysis of Federal R&D Funding by Budget Function 

71-25), p. 71. 

Figure 7-3.- Space research and technology expenditures by functio

206 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

levels of the three substantive program offices-OART, OSSA, and OMSF-is 

surprisingly difficult to ascertain. One almost has to fall back on impressions, 

hints, and occasional remarks in memorandums, since there are no detailed studies 

of, for example, the effect that Apollo had on the other offices' programs. Programs like Ranger and Surveyor were approved prior to Apollo, but their original 

purpose was subsumed in the greater glory of the lunar landing. Beyond such 

program changes, only a few tentative conclusions are possible, pending further 

research in this field. 69 First, the introduction of Apollo appears to have had "only 

a very secondary beneficial impact" on OSSA funding growth from 1961 on; while 

the continued level of Apollo funding in fiscal years 1967 and 1968 seems to have 

contributed to a major slowdown in OSSA activities, beginning in FY 1967. 

Second, Apollo stimulated to some degree the growth in OAR T spending after 

1961, principally in supporting research and technology; but even this influence 

is uncertain, because OART at the time was moving beyond NACA practice by 

not only doing applied research but by building hardware to "prove" the research 

concept. Also, the funding of all four program offices grew steadily until 1966. It 

seems likely that many research programs, particularly at the older centers, were 

approved because they were considered as direct or indirect support for Gemini 

and Apollo, but to demonstrate a causal relation, without a case-by-case evaluation of programs, is impossible. There seems to have been a more direct relation 

dating from 196 7, when basic research and unmanned programs were cut to 

support Apollo. 

PHASING DOWN THE SPACE PROGRAM, 1965-1970 

The discussion in this chapter has tended toward one question: By what 

criteria did BOB and Congress decide whether and how much the NASA budget 

rose or fell? Obviously, NASA was not a closed system; one cannot entirely 

discount the budgetary impact of the Vietnam War and Johnson's policy of 

combining a tax cut with continued social service spending. Clearly, there was no 

grand scheme to shape the agency from outside. As far as it is possible to isolate 

internal from external causes, one of the major reasons for the decline in the 

NASA budget was the agency's failure to plan effectively for the long term. There 

were three kinds of programs for BOB and Congress to consider in the period of 

concern: approved programs that were nearing completion (such as Apollo); 

approved programs for which continued major funding was sought (Voyager); 

and new programs like Apollo Applications that NASA wished to initiate, with 

the implication that Congress would continue to fund them after the first year. But 

these categories were never watertight; much of NASA's work, especially in 

advanced research, would strongly influence future programs. Thus the future of 

NERVA hung on the decision to continue production of the Saturn V, of which 

NERV A was to be the upper stage. And the production of Saturn V depended in 

turn on the uses to which the vehicle might be put <;tfter the first lunar landing. 

207 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

The same considerations applied to the large-solid-motor program 

NASAtook over from the Air Force in 1963, almost had to terminate in 1965, 

continued until 1967 with funds restored by Congress. The program led 

remarkable advances in propulsion technology; on its final test firing, the S

motor generated 25 million newtons of thrust, far more than any other ro

motor developed to that time.70 But no program in 1967 required technology 

this order.* Or consider the M-1 liquid-hydrogen engine, initiated when NA

planners were thinking in terms of a direct ascent mode for the lunar land

Once Saturn V replaced Nova as the Apollo launch vehicle, no such engine 

needed. Yet it was kept alive for more than another two years. 

Three features of agency policy contributed to, perhaps caused, cutback

NASA programs. The first was the inability of the agency's top officials to sub

or prepare an official long-range plan for post-Apollo missions. There was no l

of planning within NASA, considering the prospectuses by the program offi

center proposals, and advanced ·studies. But Webb was extremely reluctan

commit NASA to anything specific beyond Apollo, partly because there w

serious disagreements even in OMSF over the future of manned spacefli

partly because any formal plan would, in Webb's view, commit the agency 

programs that it would not be able to renounce. Significantly, the one atte

between 1963 and 1968 to specify programs after Apollo was not even calle

plan. The Future Programs Task Group, established in January 1964 a

President Johnson requested of NASA a statement of objectives beyond th

already approved, submitted a report in April 1965.7 1 But it merely enumera

without choosing between, the kinds of options available once certain assumpti

were granted. The Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences c

icized the report for just this reason: It did not explain how or when a selec

between priorities would be made, indicate the funds needed for various alter

tives, or mention military considerations and the role of DOD. In a sense, th

criticisms were beside the point. As chapter 9 details, Webb was interested 

marily in developing a capability to operate in space, while at least some C

gressmen were more interested in the uses to which that capability would be p

Thus NASA and, to a degree, Congress, were at cross-purposes. Not Webb 

Mueller nor the Planning Coordination Steering Group could develop a conv

ing program, one that distinguished between the respective roles of manned 

unmanned programs or the relative merits of orbiting space stations and appl

tions satellites. To confuse the issue further, NASA officials tended to veer f

one kind of justification to another. The Apollo mission was defended for reas

of prestige, for the benefit of beating the Russians in a race they were not alw

aware of being in, or for the long-term benefits it promised all mankind. 

NASA did not hew to any line consistently or with conviction.72 

• Once the development team was dispersed, it would have cost more to start up the program than to 

it to completion. One wonders how much NASA spent in the late 1960s on closeout costs for programs that 

terminated. 

208 
THE NASA BUDGETARY PROCESS 

Second, the Apollo fire destroyed some of the trust that had developed between NASA and Congress since 1961 . What angered some Congressmen almost 

as much as the fire itself were the circumstances in which NASA had awarded 

North American Aviation the command service module contract, as well as 

NASA's refusal to make public the Phillips report. Support in Congress declined, 

to be regained gradually over the succeeding eighteen months. Those who had opposed the space program before the fire became more open in their opposition, 

while others tended to back away from earlier positions of support. 

Finally, NASA tended to conduct long-range planning in almost purely 

substantive terms. As discussed in chapter 5, one of NASA's primary problems 

was what to do with its skilled manpower once the programs for which they were 

recruited phased down. If scientists and engineers were to remain at one center, 

it was imperative to establish the center's role beyond its original mission. As 

mentioned, as early as 1963 the House Science and Astronautics Committee had 

suggested closing the Flight Research Center. During the next seven years NASA 

was forced to close the Electronics Research Center, place the Mississippi Test 

Facility on a standby basis, and order sharp reductions in force that threatened the 

ability of other centers to keep their most talented people. 

In conclusion, the budgetary process worked in NASA's favor when it had 

an overriding mission to accomplish, few direct competitors, and no opposing 

vested interest. In one sense, NASA's problem after 1965 was to develop an 

integrated plan that would involve all its capabilities; in another sense, it was to 

attract new clients with an interest in furthering the space program. For lack of 

both, Voyager was canceled and Saturn V was discontinued after the fifteenth 

vehicle.73 Several missions, including the Skylab space station (Apollo Applications renamed) and the unmanned Viking mission to Mars, were delayed, the 

former by four years, the latter by almost three. Furthermore, the agency's 

Sustaining University Program was canceled; and the nuclear rocket program, 

though kept alive as NERV A I, lacked a specific mission. The fragmented, incremental nature of budgeting worked in NASA's favor during the early 1960s 

because what was lost at one stage could be regained further down the line. 

However, this feature of the budgetary process did not prevent continually declining budget requests and continually declining appropriations after 1966;74 it 

merely guaranteed that the NASA budget would not be reviewed as a whole. 

Perhaps the civilian budget was never amenable to such examination. Few of its 

larger programs were susceptible to the kind of cost-benefit analysis that was at 

the heart of PPBS. As shown, the very special conditions that made PPBS work 

at the Pentagon did not hold for most civilian agencies and particularly not for 

NASA. 

209 

Chapter 8 

The Structure of NASA-DOD Relations 

THE SCOPE OF INTERAGENCY RELATIONS 

M ost of the preceding chapters touched on ways in which the Defense Department assisted NASA. Units such as the Defense Supply Agency, which 

administered many NASA contracts, the Army Corps of Engineers, which managed NASA's largest construction projects, and the Air Force, which detailed 

officers to serve as program managers and directors of center operating divisions, 

provided essential services in support of the agency. This was in addition to the 

early, once-only transfers of the Saturn project and other launch vehicles, spacecraft like Tiros, contractor-operated facilities like the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, 

and the technical skills of the von Braun team. Simply to list examples, however, 

gives only the barest hint of the significance for NASA of the totality of the 

support; the Department of Defense (DOD) was the one Federal agency with 

which NASA had to come to terms in order to carry out its mission at all. The 

essence of their relationship had far more to do with mutual need than with 

philosophical arguments concerning the existence or the desirability of one space 

program or two. The Space Act only outlined the scope of interagency relations 

in the most general way. The act declared that, while aeronautical and space 

programs would be managed by a civilian agency, "activities peculiar to or 

primarily associated with the development of weapons systems ... or the defense 

of the United States" would remain DOD's responsibility; and it enjoined NASA 

to make available "to agencies directly concerned with national defense ... 

discoveries that have military value or significance." 1 It is as well, then, to set aside 

preconceptions. "Civilian" and "military" are not the same as "peaceful" and 

"nonpeaceful"; duplication of programs could be "warranted" or "unwarranted"; 

and much of the struggle over the military uses of space was as much between 

elements within DOD as between DOD and NASA. In short, the principles 

underlying the U.S. space program resulted from the many subordinate agreem~nts subsisting between the two agencies. One has to begin from the particular 

211 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

to arrive at the general because, in this sphere, "no clear-cut divisions o

sponsibility exist or are possible, and it is difficult to describe the situati

general terms." 2 

What were the elements comprising the NASA-DOD relationship? 

least four ways their interests impinged on each other: common technol

NASA's continuation of NACA's support of military aeronautics; NASA's 

whelming dependence in its early years on the launch vehicles and ground su

provided by the Air Force and on the Saturn rocket and von Braun team t

ferred from the Army; and the persistent attempts by the Air Force to inves

the military applications of space, especially of manned Earth-orbital operat

As to common technology, there is no discontinuity between civilian and mi

R&D, no line that one can arbitrarily draw with rocket guidance and 

processing on one side, avionics and solid-state physics on the other. A la

vehicle is only a modified ballistic missile; and it cannot be overstated th

everything between sounding rockets and the Saturn I,* NASA relied on ve

successfully developed by the Air Force between 1954 and 1959-notabl

Atlas, Thor, and Titan ballistic missiles in their original or modified ver

This shared technology also signified that NASA and DOD would have to 

dinate programs to avoid "unwarranted" duplication of launch vehicles and 

ities. Officials of both agencies would want to exchange information in are

mutual interest, such as space medicine or bioastronautics, in which NASA 

DOD were simultaneously performing thousands of research tasks. Indeed

areas of NASA's R&D were without potential military application. The Sur

program-than which nothing could seem more unmilitary-is a case in poi

retromotor, designed to reduce the spacecraft's approach velocity, was used 

second stage of the Air Force's Burner II launch vehicle; the automatic la

system could be applied to vertical or short take-off and landing (V/ ST

aircraft; while the lightweight, remotely controlled TV camera could be us

military communications.3 Hence the crossovers between military and ci

programs: flying DOD experiments aboard Gemini; transferring NASA's 

com communications satellite to DOD in 1965; and the use, by Defense age

of geodetic and meteorological information supplied by NASA. 

The transformation of NACA into NASA did not affect its role in suppo

research for the military, except to blur the distinction between suppor

coordination. It is useful to recall the importance of NACA applied researc

the ways by which research concepts were translated into military hardware

concept of the sweptback wing described in a 1945 report was applied to the 

and B-52 bombers and the century series of fighter aircraft. The conce

low-aspect-ratio wings to reduce atmospheric drag at supersonic speeds 

possible the F-104 and the X-15 rocket plane. Perhaps the best-known exa

of the military uses of NACA research was the 1953 paper of Allen and E

*T he first stage of the Saturn rocket was developed by the von Braun team at the Army Redstone Ar

Huntsville, Alabama. 

212 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

that demonstrated the superiority of a blunt nose cone in coping with the extremely high temperatures generated by the atmospheric reentry of a ballistic 

missile. Similar research continued after NASA's establishment and extended to 

every area of advanced research and technology, but with this difference: NASA 

collaborated with the services in refining the concept into the development phase. 

The X-15, for example, was a joint NACA (NASA)-Air Force-Navy project. 

Moreover, the same agencies collaborated on solid-fuel propulsion programs, 

despite the absence of near-term missions in NASA's case. All this was in addition 

to testing Air Force flight models in the unique facilities available at the Ames and 

Langley centers; for example, the Langley 18.3-meter vacuum sphere was one of 

the very few available for "dirty" tests, involving the discharge of contaminating 

substances such as exhaust gases. 

Between 1958 and 1966 almost all NASA launches, other than for sounding 

rockets, took place at the Air Force Eastern Test Range at Cape Canaveral, 

Florida, and at the Western Test Range at Vandenburg Air Force Base, near 

Point Arguello, California.* Even after NASA acquired land just north of the 

Eastern Test Range in 1961-1962, all NASA launches (except the soundingrocket and Scout satellite launches at Wallops Island) continued on ranges operated by and under conditions stipulated by the Air Force. The nature of NASA 

programs, however, soon led to disagreements over how NASA would pay DOD 

for range and tracking support. Moreover, the "single manager" concept of range 

support ran afoul of the determination of NASA officials to decide their own 

requirements. It might, for instance, seem like gross and unwarranted duplication 

when NASA built tracking stations "colocated" near DOD-operated facilities on 

Antigua and Ascension Island. NASA officials disagreed. The colocation issue 

could only be decided on the merits of each case, not by assertions of abstract 

principle. For all the draft and signed agreements prepared by both agencies, the 

problems of funding and range support were not amenable to any simple or 

permanent solution, whether a solution involved defining an agency's "unique 

requirements" or identifying the free. services that each agency provided (or should 

provide) the other. 

For brevity's sake, NASA-DOD relations may be categorized under the 

headings of support, coordination, and rivalry. The body of this chapter involves 

a closer look at these categories: how they evolved, the formal mechanisms of 

interagency relations, and certain problems stemming from the dual management 

of the U.S. space program. Analyzing specific problem areas should bring us 

closer to answering the following questions: 

1. How did the two agencies understand such terms as "coordination" and 

"single management"? How well did each adjust abstract principles to institutional realities? 

• Originally called the Atlantic and Pacific Missile Ranges, they were redesignated the Eastern and Western 

Test Ranges in May 1964. 

213 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

2. By what rationale did NASA and DOD pursue similar, overlapping p

grams, and how did they control wasteful duplication? 

3. In what sense, if any, was there a national launch vehicle or range supp

program in the 1960s? 

4. In sum, how well did organizational relations serve both agencies' purpos

THE BEGINNINGS OF A DIVISION OF LABOR: ADVENT AND SYNCOM 

The Space Act left the scope of the relations between NASA and the milit

unchartered. The general principles that evolved were a precipitate of m

agreements, programs, and working-level relations. Certain preconditions 

working together had to be met. There had to be agreement on which progra

properly belonged in either agency, on how NASA would acquire the lau

vehicles it needed, and on which officials were authorized to speak on behal

their agency in relation to the other. Within DOD, there had to be an admi

trative reshuffling to decide the role of the services in the conduct of military sp

programs; were they to be concentrated in one, parceled out among all, or loca

in the Office of the Secretary of Defense? 

But although the services might agree on little else, they were as one in 

posing the pretensions of the Advanced Research Projects Agency (ARPA) 

become the military space agency, since its authority would have been at th

expense.4 Less than two years after its establishment, ARPA had become a 

shop for research tasks that none of the services happened to be doing. The 1

reorganization led to the creation of the Directorate of Defense Research 

Engineering, whose charter gave its head the authority to "approve, modify

disapprove programs and projects of the military departments and other D

agencies." 5 Not until the end of 1959 was the Director's authority over AR

made explicit, and it was the effect, more than the cause, of the process by wh

ARPA was divested of its most important programs: the Tiros weather sate

went to NASA; the Transit navigation satellite, to the Navy; the early-warn

Midas satellite and the Samos reconnaissance satellite, to the Air Force; 

Notus, the interim communications satellite system that became Advent, to 

Army. ARPA would be a job shop, responsible only for developing advan

systems and turning them over to one of the services at the point at which e

system became operational. 

The Army's ill-fated Advent program is worth a closer look because of 

relation to NASA's Syncom communications satellite.6 The independent origi

both programs and their ultimate convergence may serve as a case study 

features common to civilian and military programs: shared technologies; the ri

inherent in advanced R&D, particularly where the launch vehicle, spacecraft, 

ground support were proceeding concurrently; the distinction drawn by NA

between developmental and operational phases of R&D; and the problems 

setting jurisdictions proper to each agency. Defense Secretary McElroy had e

214 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

ated ARPA in February 1958 with the partial objective of in.itiating and developing space programs for which there was no clear service jurisdiction. One of 

these, the communications satellite program, was transferred from ARPA to the 

Army in September 19 59, renamed Advent in February 1960, and effectively 

terminated in May 1962. From its inception Advent was designed as a synchronous communications satellite-a satellite that orbited at the Earth's speed of 

rotation at an altitude of 35 900 kilometers and appeared as a fixed point in the 

sky. Three such satellites can provide worldwide coverage, need fewer ground 

stations than a medium-altitude satellite, and do not present complicated tracking 

problems. However, the theoretical advantages of synchronous coverage can be 

nullified by technical difficulties. A synchronous satellite needs a more powerful 

launch; vehicle than one in medium orbit; it needs more electronic parts and, as a 

matteriof course, a backup satellite in orbit in case of failure; and a spacecraft in 

synchrbnous orbit can be jammed more easily than a number of medium-altitude 

satellites, since, being station~ry, it can be pinpointed more readily. 

The origins and purpose of Advent were such that they seemed to involve no 

duplication between DOD and NASA. Defense had a pressing requirement for 

an operational communications satellite; NASA, as an R&D agency, did not. 

Under a November 1958 agreement, ARPA was placed in charge of active communications satellites, i.e., spacecraft that receive, amplify, and send radio signals, 

while NASA would work on passive satellites-balloons, for example-which 

merely: reflect signals sent from ground stations. But this arrangement was not 

binding. "NASA was not foreclosed from research and development in the active 

satellit~ field; in fact the agreement recognized that at an appropriate time, and 

making full use of the knowledge derived from the military experience, NASA 

would do some development work on components and prototypes for a nonmilitary 

communications satellite system." 7• This is precisely what happened. As the Army 

proceeded with Advent, NASA contracted with Hughes Aircraft in 1961 for a 

lightweight synchronous satellite. Writing to Webb in June 1961 , Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell Gilpatric indicated that he considered NASA's Syncom . 

as "complementary to, not duplicative of, the military Advent. "~ By agreement 

that August, NASA undertook to develop the satellite, with DOD furnishing the 

ground support. Advent was running into serious difficl;llties. Not only had the 

program overrun its original cost estimates, but the Centaur upper stage of the 

launch vehicle that would place Advent in orbit (which was being developed by 

NASA) had been delayed for more than three years, and no earlier launch would 

be possible until the Titan III then being developed became available. Additionally, the triode tube, on which Advent was based, was already obsolete. Under 

the circumstances the program had to be dropped in favor of a medium-altitude 

communications satellite. But although such a program was approved, it ran into 

delays while DOD officials negotiated fruitlessly with the Communications Satellite Corporation (ComSat) to provide services. Almost by default NASA, by 

1963, had become the only Federal agency working on a program for a synchronous communications satellite. 

215 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

The rest of the story may be summed up briefly. NASA launched and p

in orbit three Syncoms in 1963-1964, the first of which never responded to gr

signals, while the second (launched 26 July 1963) and third ( 19 August 1

operated successfully. At the end of 1964 the orbiting satellites were transf

from NASA to DOD as forerunners of an Initial Defense Communica

Satellite System. In June 1966 a single Titan III inserted seven communica

satellites into random, near-synchronous, equatorial orbit, creating the nucle

a worldwide military communications system. 

The history of Advent and Syncom illustrates a great deal of the directi

which NASA-DOD relations were tending in the early 1960s. Note particu

Syncom's status as a coordinated rather than a joint project. NASA designe

spacecraft but had no Syncom stations of its own; the ground support, funded 

purchased by DOD, was salvaged from Advent. Syncom was a program w

success depended "on the functioning of separate, co-operating systems." 9 I

experimental, and it was not designed to handle bulk traffic. Once the res

concept had been proved, NASA was willing to turn over the program t

potential user, the more so as NASA had begun to negotiate contracts for 

vanced technological satellites" designed to carry several packages of experim

in communications technology. In both communications and meteorology, N

had to face the question of where development left off and operations bega

meteorology, NASA ceded the Tiros satellite to the Weather Bureau to me

and DOD's need for an operational weather satellite, while continuing wo

the more advanced Nimbus. In communications, Congress created ComS

1962 as a profit-making entity for operating the U.S. portion of a future g

communications satellite network. There was no need or justification for N

to develop and operate a system that would duplicate ComSat's Early Bird 

gram for an "experimental-operational" synchronous satellite. 10 The transf

Syncom to DOD thus served two purposes: It gave DOD access to a techno

that it needed, and it removed the suspicion that NASA was developin

operational communications satellite system. 

But the most important lesson of the Advent and Syncom programs was 

the cancelation of one and the transfer of the other would have been much 

likely without the agency reorganizations discussed in the following section. 

U.S. space program in 19 58-19 59 was a welter of projects parceled out am

NASA, ARPA, and the services. During the next three years, the Direct

Defense Research and Engineering became the official charged with the con

of Defense R&D; ARPA was downgraded to the role of job shop for the O

of the Secretary of Defense; with minor exceptions, the Air Force was cha

with conducting the military space program; while the Defense Communica

Agency, previously created in 1960, became in May 1962 the "focal poin

continuing integration of the space and ground elements of the communica

satellite systems to meet Department of Defense requirements." 11 As Direct

Defense Research and Engineering, Dr. Harold Brown could decide to c

Advent because the 1958 act created the position that charged him to approv

216 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

review all major Defense R&D programs. The decision to cancel followed a series 

of reviews at the level of the Office of the Secretary rather than at the service level. 

The Project 39 review of March 1961 "to study and review major outstanding 

problems in the Defense Establishment," was followed by the Advent Program 

Survey that December, which was chaired by the head of the Office of Electronics 

in Brown's Directorate.12 There had to be officials in both agencies who could, to 

paraphrase Matthew Arnold, see these programs steadily and see them whole. It 

is time to turn to the organizational changes that made such oversight possible. 

NASA-DOD RELATIONS, 1959-1963 

The military space program moved through three overlapping phases from 

19 59 to 1961. First, the most promising ARPA projects were turned over to the 

services; the Air Force was made responsible for ballistic missile development in 

19 59, for military space development generally in 1961, and for military support 

of NASA in 1962; and the Office of the Secretary of Defense under Gates and 

McNamara began to demand that the services justify programs by matching costs 

and benefits. The directive of 6 March 1961 grew out of recommendations by two 

of President Kennedy's task forces that DOD activities in general and space 

programs in particular be centralized. It authorized each military department to 

conduct preliminary research, but it assigned to the Air Force responsibility for 

"research, development, test, and engineering of Department of Defense space 

development programs or projects which are approved hereafter." n Since the Air 

Force was already responsible for more than 90 percent of DOD space development, the real force and substance of McNamara's order consisted in bringing 

the three services under tighter central control by the Secretary, the Deputy 

Secretary, and the Director of Defense Research and Engineering. The Air Force 

could not select the projects that were to be developed. DOD officials were explicit 

about this point; the aim was to prevent interservice conflicts "by further restricting the independent freedom of action of the three military services ... by 

limiting the latitude of the military departments to increase emphasis and funding 

for various projects." 14 

The McNamara directive tightened and clarified the ground rules for conducting military R&D in space, without explaining the requirements that would 

justify military space programs or their relation to NASA's programs. Meanwhile, the Air Force conducted a major reorganization of its own. Since 1954 Gen. 

Bernard A. Schriever had been in charge of the Air Force ballistic missile program 

as head, first of the Western Development Division of the Air Research and 

Development Command (ARDC), then of the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division 

that replaced it in 1957, and finally of the Air Force Systems Command (AFSC), 

established on 1 April 1961 by a merger of ARDC and the Air Materiel Command. The 1961 reorganization consolidated the Air Force space and ballistic 

missile programs, with AFSC assuming "direct responsibility for everything ex217 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

cept the logistical support functions." 1' It created two new divisions-Balli

Systems and Space Systems-which became completely autonomous in Octo

1962, reporting directly to AFSC Headquarters.* By a series of related chang

the nonprofit Aerospace Corporation was established in 1960 as a spinof

TRW /Space Technology Laboratories, which wanted to bid on Air Force ha

ware contracts; the Aerospace Corporation, on the other hand, was responsible 

advanced systems analysis and general technical supervision of Air Force mis

and space systems. And last, though not least important, a 1962 directive assig

responsibility to the Air Force for support of NASA. 16 

Four concurrent developments within NASA strengthened the agency's h

in negotiating with DOD. First, NASA and DOD concluded a series of agr

ments between 1959 and 1963. 17 The agreement of November 1959laid down 

principles by which each agency would reimburse the other for services render

and to date it has remained the only general agreement, although it has often b

modified. 1 K The agreement of September 1960 formally established the Ae

nautics and Astronautics Coordinating Board (AACB), although it had met 

the first time three months earlier. The Board's importance, however, was les

what it accomplished for the time being than in its terms of reference. Where 

moribund Civilian-Military Liaison Committee created by the Space Act had 

authority to implement its decisions, the members of the AACB and its six pan

were authorized to take actions "utilizing the authority vested in them by th

respective agencies.",., The cochairmen were the NASA Deputy Administr

and the Director of Defense Research and Engineering. 

These agreements were a sort of organic law for the space program. T

Webb-Gilpatric agreement of 23 February 1961 stipulated that neither age

would initiate the development of a new launch vehicle without first seeking 

consent of the other?" The agreement of 14 January 1963 provided that 

Merritt Island Launch Area would be operated as a NASA installation, sepa

and distinct from the Eastern Test Range, although the Air Force would conti

to provide common services for NASA and DOD users.21 This superseded 

earlier agreement under which Merritt Island would have been operated join

and it suggests how far NASA was prepared to go in asserting the righ

determine its own needs. One week later, the Gemini agreement confirm

NASA's hard-won independence.22 Here, too, Webb turned down McNama

proposal of a joint program. The agreement of 21 January affirmed NASA's r

as program manager, while stipulating that DOD would participate under 

rangements to be made by an advisory Gemini Program Planning Board. Of th

five agreements, the first two established the organizational ground rules, the th

served as the basic document in coordinating military and civilian programs, w

•tn July 1967 the two divisions were superseded by the Headquarters Space and Missile Systems 

ganization (SAMSO). 

t Manned Space Flight, Unmanned Spacecraft, Launch Vehicles, Space Flight Ground Environment, 

porting Space Research and Technology, and Aeronautics. The Civilian-Military Liaison Committee 

formally abolished by the President's Reorganization Plan No. 4, 27 July 1965. 

·218 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

the fourth and fifth confirmed that NASA was the dominant partner in the 

manned exploration of space. 

These agreements were by no means the only examples of NASA's assertiveness. In March 1962, for example, NASA established independent field installations at the launch facilities of the Eastern and Western Test Ranges. Similarly, 

NASA sought to participate more closely in the development of vehicles like the 

Agena upper stage, which it needed for its own launches. By a September 1963 

agreement between NASA and the Air Force Systems Command, NASA was 

assigned a role in launch vehicle planning and became a member of the Air Force 

Configuration Control Board for the Atlas, Thor, and Agena vehicles. 

The second development to affect the conduct of the national space rogram 

was President Kennedy's decision to assign the lunar landing mission to NASA. 

After May 1961 the Air Force had no clearly defined manned mission in space. 

Its Man in Space Soonest project, when transferred to NASA, evolved into Project 

Mercury-a nonmilitary project that could not have succeeded without military 

support. The Air Force Systems Command's 1962 proposal for a "Blue Gemini" 

went nowhere for lack of support by Air Force Headquarters and by the Office 

of the Secretary of Defense. When Webb and McNamara signed the Gemini 

agreement, the only approved manned military program was Dyna-Soar, a 

winged orbital glider first conceived in 19 57-19 58 and formally initiated as a 

program in 1960, when Boeing was chosen to design the glider and the Martin 

Company to supply the Titan I booster.

2' Even before the Gemini agreement, 

Dyna-Soar had run into trouble; and it is not too much to say that the agreement 

hastened Dyna-Soar's demise, the more so because the former could do most of 

what the latter was intended to do, and more. Thus by early 1963 proponents of 

a manned military program were caught in a merry-go-round of requirements. To 

justify such a program, they had to explain what a manned mission could accomplish that an unmanned satellite could not; they had to show how a military 

project could be designed to avoid duplicating what Gemini was accomplishing in 

Earth-orbital operations; and they found it useful to assert that the Soviet Union 

had gone further than the U.S. in the military use of space. But Gemini, by 

including more than a dozen military experiments, inevitably raised the spectre of 

unwarranted duplication should the Air Force proceed with a manned program. 

A third development in NASA-DOD relations was signaled by the establishment of a NASA Office of Defense Affairs in December 1962. * As with AACB, 

its establishment was more notable as an expression of policy than for any immediate accomplishment. The new office, headed by retired Adm. W. Fred Boone, 

was to promote interagency cooperation, serve as "the focal point for all major 

defense-related matters within NASA, [and] speak for NASA within the framework of established policy." 24 NASA and DOD were already linked in many 

ways: through AACB and its panels; through the Air Force Systems Command 

liaison office, located in the same downtown Washington office building as the 

• When Seamans replaced Dryden as cochairman of AACB. 

219 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Office of Manned Space Flight; and through the military detailees stationed 

centers. Treading carefully, for there were many bureaucratic feet to st

Boone showed discretion in adopting the operating principle that "we wou

attempt to have all communications and interactions with the Defens

partment channelled through our Office ... . we would avoid permittin

Office . . . to become a bottleneck impeding the flow of information an

conduct of NASA-DOD business." 25 

Fourth, NASA moved to centralize its ground support network. By 

NASA had three networks: STADAN (Satellite Tracking and Data Acqu

Network), successor to the Minitrack Network developed for Vanguard an

for trac ing unmanned, Earth-orbital spacecraft; the Deep Space Network 

aged by JPL, which tracked lunar and planetary probes; and the Manned 

Flight Network (MSFN), which consisted in 1965 of nineteen land-base

plus instrumented ships and aircraft managed by DOD. These network

complementary in certain respects. MSFN, for example, had to work with 

craft up to lunar distances and, like the Deep Space Network, it had a num

26-meter radio antennas for tracking. MSFN and ST ADAN were suffi

similar that NASA consolidated them into a single Space Tracking and 

Network in mid-1971, although NASA management never took the final 

completely centralizing the range structure, which would have been unde

for two reasons. The program offices and their center representatives woul

been most unwilling to .surrender control of mission operations and trackin

a persuasive case could be made that "to divorce support completely from 

program control or access is to endanger the responsiveness of that suppo

to the programs it should serve ... separately managed support resource

centralized office may sometimes be more costly than program control since 

equipment should be used only during the lifetime of a particular progra

What headquarters could do, it did. The creation of a unified L

Operations Center at the Cape in May 1963 removed Marshall managemen

the scene. The new center, renamed the Kennedy Space Center (KSC) th

cember, took over Houston's Florida Operations in 1964, and in Octobe

assumed control of all unmanned launches, except for s~unding rockets, on 

coast. In like manner, the Office of Tracking and Data Acquisition (O

assumed management of JPL's Space Flight Operations Facility, on

prospective use by Pioneer and Lunar Orbiter made central control necessa

recognition of its coequal status, OTDA was designated a program office 

cember 1965. 

Although these moves provided tighter control over launch suppo

tracking and data acquisition, headquarters continued to manage the two 

rately. The furthest that NASA was prepared to go in coordinating them 

create the position of Mission Operations Director with overall responsibil

manned spaceflight programs and to establish an Operations Support Re

ments Office (OSRO) staffed by representatives of the program offices, O

and the centers participating in manned spaceflight. Reporting to the M

220 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

Operations Director, OSRO was charged with considering operations support as 

a whole, particularly in cases where more than one program and more than one 

center were involved.27 Equally important, the office was intended to be a single 

point of contact with the Air Force National Range Division for all manned flight 

support requirements.2H Whether complete centralization might have accomplished more is debatable. What is evident is the rationalization of NASA's 

ground support activities and the creation of well-dd1ned patterns of cooperation 

and support between NASA and DOD. The following section considers these 

patterns. 

Reimbursement Arrangements 

While reserving to NASA control of Merritt Island, the Webb-McNamara 

agreement of January 1963 left open the question of how NASA would pay for 

those services that the Air Force continued to provide. In 1963 much of what 

would become the Kennedy Space Center was still a swamp, more a wildlife 

sanctuary than a launch facility. When the first Saturn IB flew, in February 1966, 

it was from the Eastern Test Range, as were all subsequent Saturn IB launches 

for the main Apollo program.* Only those launches requiring the Saturn V were 

from KSC's launch complex 39, which was developed by NASA specifically to 

accommodate them. So heavily did NASA rely on Air Force facilities that the Air 

Force transferred several launch complexes-launch complexes 34 and 37 for 

Saturn, launch complex 12 for the Atlas-Agena, launch complex 16 for the 

Titan II, launch complex 36 for the Centaur-to NASA, since they were already 

used almost exclusively for NASA launches. Indeed, DOD supported NASA to 

such an extent that launches of the Navy's Polaris missile at the Eastern Test 

Range had to wait for those of NASA.29 

The relationship between NASA and the Air Force gave rise to certain 

issues, in themselves highly technical, yet important judged by the time spent by 

officials of both agencies in trying to resolve them. With the 1963 agreement, 

NASA became responsible for master planning and developing facilities at Merritt Island, as well as for the preparation, checkout, and launch of its own flight 

missions. This agreement left open the funding of services that DOD continued 

to supply, such as the use of launch pads, downrange tracking and data acquisition, and relay, instrumentation, search and recovery ships and aircraft in the 

Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. The differences over funding were more than merely 

technical; they involved each agency's conception of its role in the national space 

program. Precisely because differences went so deep, none of the interagency 

working groups set up to resolve the problem arrived at a settlement acceptable 

to both sides: not the panel established to work out the details of the WebbMcNamara agreement, nor the interagency task forces that studied the problem 

• However, Skylabs II, III, and IV, and Apollo-Soyuz, all of which used the Saturn IB, were from KSC . . 

221 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

from 1965 to 1967, nor the Director of the Budget, into whose lap both age

finally tossed the problem.

30 Basically, the task forces identified four altern

methods of funding. NASA could pay the actual cost of services provided; it c

enjoy a host-tenant relationship, paying only for "abnormal" services; it could 

on a pro rata basis, according to some arbitrary estimate of the proportion o

total workload for which NASA was responsible; or it could continue the exi

arrangement, under which NASA reimbursed the Air Force only for thos

quirements that were unique to a given flight projett. 

In practice, the four options narrowed to two: cost sharing, as DOD 

ferred, or reimbursement for an agreed proportion of total costs. Why, then

the problem so intractable? The reasons are complex, intertwined with pol

considerations that were not always made explicit. First, there was the diffi

of separating the costs peculiar to NASA programs from the total cost of run

the Eastern Test Range as a national range used by several agencies. NASA 

prepared to pay for certain readily identifiable additional services incurred b

Air Force as part of the NASA workload. The agency accepted the concept 

a national range-that is, a facility used by more than one agency-should be 

by a single manager. But NASA officials took the argument a step further. W

the range was being operated on behalf of several users, it was impractic

charge each agency on a job order basis.31 What counted was the creation 

maintenance of a national resource. In the eyes of agency spokesmen, NASA 

consistent, since the same principle had been applied by NASA laboratori

work done for other agencies, including DOD. 

NASA desired reimbursement only for work and materials over and above the norm

capabilities .. . of the NASA elements involved; i.e., unique out-of-pocket costs. Only und

such an arrangement could NASA keep its teams of scientists, engineers, and technicia

intact and efficiently employed; maintain effective control over the operation of its facilit

and the flow of work; and achieve the degree of administrative ... flexibility essential to t

most effective ... management of its research . . .. The Administrator held that the type 

R&D work performed by NASA under its charter could not be done on a job order basis

NASA officials hinted that no other arrangement could be accepted

rather, they intimated that if McNamara insisted on cost-sharing at the C

then "NASA would feel obligated to ~xercise an authoritative voice in plan

and management commensurate with its share of funding. 33 

The history of the funding controversy does have-if not a lighter side-

a kind of awful predictability familiar to students of bureaucratic strategies. A

all, both sides seemed to shrink from any sort of final decision, even to canc

the outdated 1959 agreement. The task force report of December 1963, w

recommended that existing funding arrangements be continued, only served 

temporary remedy for confusion. In October 1965 Defense officials reopene

matter by suggesting that NASA cooperate in arriving at an equitable divisi

costs. This touched off another round of studies and reports that lasted ove

years and left both sides as far apart as ever. There were joint working gr

222 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

exchanges of letters, and a budget request by McNamara that struck out $45 million from the Defense budget in support of Apollo-an amount promptly restored 

by the Bureau of the Budget. By February 1967 NASA and DOD were still so 

far apart that Boone, who handled negotiations for NASA, and his DOD counterpart "could not even agree as to how we should report that we disagreed." 34 

These protracted and exhausting negotiations did lead to an interim settlement, however inconclusive. In April 1967 both agencies wrote o Budget 

Director Charles Schultze, requesting a judgment on issues pending. Schultze 

agreed to arbitrate, provided that his decision was accepted by both agencies as 

binding. When the Bureau's judgment was conveyed to NASA in February 1968, 

its conclusions left the status quo virtually intact. The Bureau's decision applied 

to FY 1969 only; and no more final judgment would be possible, pending. a 

financial management system at the Eastern Test Range that would "provide a 

basis for full identification of costs based upon valid accounting procedures." 35 In 

essence, the Bureau accepted NASA's position on funding; for 1969 NASA and 

DOD were to pay for range operations on a 60 : 40 basis, except that NASA 

would pay 85 P.ercent of the cost of Apollo aircraft. Out of a total Eastern Test 

Range budget of $260.9 million, NASA would provide $51.4 million, DOD the 

rest. Such was the inconclusive conclusion to a controversy begun six years earlier. 

While the issue of Eastern Test Range funding laid bare fundamental 

differences over the management of the space program, other funding agreements 

presented few problems. Where NASA procured launch vehicles from the Air 

Force, it paid only for the production item, not for development costs. Similarly, 

when NASA, in April 1964, delegated responsibility to the Defense Supply 

Agency to administer its contracts, it was agreed that NASA would pay for direct 

and indirect costs on a per-hour basis. Whatever technical problems might arise, 

there were no serious philosophical differences comparable to those at the Eastern 

Test Range. These differences arose in three cases: when NASA believed that 

DOD support might involve technical direction of NASA programs, when DOD 

pressed for the consolidation of colocated NASA facilities to avoid unwarranted 

duplication, and when DOD officials substituted their judgment for NASA's in 

determining NASA's requirements. The issue of the operation of tracking stations 

illustrates all three cases. The agencies' positions were lucidly stated by Boone: 

DOD, as operator of the national missile ranges and their associated down-range tracking 

stations, tended to view each station as an entity, operating under the cognizance of the range 

operations director ... and called up by him to provide tracking and telemetry support to any 

missile or spacecraft requiring such support. 

NASA, on the other hand, 

regarded each station as an integral part of a world-wide network which was, in turn, a part 

of a closed-lwp operational system encompassing the mission control center, the network, and 

the spacecraft ... the individual network stations must be standardized as much as possible 

and integrated into a single network under central operational management and control. ... 

It was around this basic issue ... that most of the subsequent controversy centered.36 

223 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

NASA officials asserted that the totality of Apollo mission operations ha

under direct agency control; and they drew a line between routine housek

services, which they were prepared to delegate, and the technical opera

facilities, which they were not. Moreover, they insisted that colocation and 

cation were not the same thing. The NASA tracking stations on Antig

Ascension Island did not duplicate nearby DOD facilities. The NASA fa

which ophated on the unified S-hand system, were part of the Deep 

Network and had nothing in common with the DOD system; they could 

operated by part-time labor pulled from a general-purpose technical pool

would serve no purpose and save no money to take the stations out of an int

mission support system to meet the theoretical requirement of single m

rnent?7 It is conceivable that, up to 1962, both agencies might have arriv

system with similar bandwidth capacity. By 1965 NASA and DOD had gon

separate ways; thus single management remained a very live issue.38 

In practice, NASA management was more flexible than a flat assertio

agency's position would imply. By an agreement of 22 May 1965, NAS

DOD agreed to three principles in the management of colocated tracki

tions: 39 (1) where facilities were colocated, one agency would be respons

all base support functions, such as public works, utilities, and logistics; 

single manager for base support would normally operate the instrumentati

(3) where an exception to the above promised cost savings, the agencies 

carry out a joint study to devise other arrangements. Thus NASA contin

operate the unified S-hand instruments at Antigua and Ascension, although 

managed both stations. 

Another instance in which NASA and DOD had to bend principles pe

to outfitting and managing tracking ships for Apollo. Here the issues we

more complex, since they involved the Navy's Bureau of Ships as well as 

and the Air Force. In its 1964 budget request, NASA asked Congress f

million to convert and equip three ships from the Maritime Reserve for tr

and data acquisition in support of Apollo. When it was learned that both 

and DOD were planning additional ships without much regard to what th

was doing, the authorization committees withheld funds pending a joint s

resolve several issues. Who would design and operate the ships? Would NA

the Air Force determine Apollo support requirements? Would the sh

manned by civil service crews or by union crews supplied by Pan American 

Airways, the support contractor for the entire Eastern Test Range? An

would operate and maintain the shipboard Apollo instrumentation-NA

DOD? 

After the usual lengthy negotiations-this time including an ad hoc 

Committee on Instrumentation-on 15 January 1964 the two agencies sig

sent their agreement to Congress.40 NASA and DOD would work out r

ments, with the Air Force placed in charge of centralized planning and m

ment; the Navy would acquire and modify the ships through a specially 

project office; and the Navy Military Sea Transportation Service would 

224 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

and maintain the ships at sea. Except in two respects, the agreement gave NASA 

most of what it wanted. NASA had insisted on ships manned by civil service crews 

to avoid the possibility of a strike delaying an Apollo mission. The Air Force, 

however, continued to use union crews as long as its Pan American contract 

remained in effect; ultimately, they were phased out and replaced by civil service 

crews. In addition, NASA had demanded a free hand in operating the ships' 

Apollo instrumentation; as part of the 1964 agreement, NASA relinquished operations to DOD, despite its oft-stated goal of "a fully integrated network operation."41 Yet in virtually every other respect, NASA got what it wanted. The ships 

were to be operated by the Navy, not the Air Force; NASA, as well as the Air 

Force, would develop the plans for operating ships "as Range facilities in the 

Apollo network"; the funds for the ships would be kept by NASA, rather than 

turned over completely to the A,ir Force; most significant, "DOD would accept as 

top priority the Apollo support requirements as stated by NASA. " 42 In practice, 

NASA settled for something less than the "totally integrated network" it had 

considered indispensable. 

Launch Vehicle Planning 

One of the most critical areas for coordination pertained to the national 

launch vehicle program. Coordination studies by NASA and DOD went beyond 

the issue of avoiding wasteful duplication. The development of new booster stages 

and the phase out of older ones were involved in the long-range planning of both 

agencies, since the diameter of the vehicle, total thrust, and propulsion system 

determined the payloads to be launched and the orbits in which they were placed. 

Three things should be kept in mind in order to understand the NASA 

position on launch vehicle development. First, NASA began to develop its largest 

launch vehicles well in advance of a specific mission requirement. This was true 

of the giant F -1 and J -2 engines that powered all three stages of the Saturn V, 

and Webb used tho§e as examples of the value of research independent of specific 

missions.43 

Second, certain concepts relating to the national launch vehicle program had 

come to be widely accepted by 1963: that neither agency should start a new launch 

vehicle development without joint review; that the number of engine systems 

should be limited and standardized; that both agencies should cooperate in developing "building block" components that they could both use; and that, in the 

interest of economy, NASA and DOD should study the possibility of reusable as 

well as expendable boosters. Several of these concepts had been recommended, or 

at least discussed, in two influential reports of 1961-1962. The first, prepared by 

an Ad Hoc Booster Panel of the President's Science Advisory Committee (PSAC), 

was released early in June 1961, just after President Kennedy went before Congress to propose an expanded national space program. 44 The other was the report 

of the Large Launch Vehicle Planning Group (LLVPG) created by AACB in 

July 1961, which submitted its final conclusions in February 1962. LL VPG was 

225 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

to consider the combination of launch vehicles that was best fitted to serve the 

of the manned lunar landing, manned scientific missions, and advanced mi

operations.45 Neither task force arrived at specific conclusions on the cours

the national space program should take. The members of LL VPG disagre

the mission mode for the lunar landing, hence, on the launch vehicle for Apo

Yet both reports were straws in the wind. There was strong sentiment i

scientific and engineering communities for a thorough investigation of the ci

and military uses of solid- and liquid-fuel propulsion. There was also, by 

a livelier awareness of the difficulties in marking out the boundaries of 

agency's jurisdiction. As shown, the early understanding that DOD would 

on active, and NASA on passive, communications satellites quickly evapo

The same held for the development of big space boosters, originally NA

responsibility. By 1961 the Air Force was at work on a large launch vehicle, w

would meet its requirements for sending large payloads into Earth orbi

would also be available to NASA. This was the Titan III.47 

Third, the national stable of launch vehicles in the early 1970s was 

different from what it had been a dozen years earlier. Then NASA had 

available seven vehicles, six of them derived from missile programs.

48 By 197

process of winnowing and sifting and standardizing had gone very far. The 

remaining Thor-based vehicle was the Delta, which, along with the A

Centaur, was used for medium and large payloads. The Titan III-C (or the 

III with the Centaur upper stage) was used for very large packages. The S

booster was no longer available, although the remaining vehicles were us

launch Skylab in 1973 and Apollo-Soyuz in 1975. Rejected by the Air Fo

favor of the Titan III, the Saturn could have been retained only if Congres

approved an ambitious manned program beyond Apollo. Congress gave no 

unqualified approval; NASA suspended production of the Saturn V in 196

discontinued it in 1970. Thus the most significant addition to the national la

vehicle program was the use of the Titan III for the largest payloads. The 

III had several advantages over other large boosters. It could launch mu

payloads up to synchronous orbit; accept a variety of upper stages, includin

Centaur, as well as solid-fuel strap-on boosters; and it was capable of 

"standardized major components which can be put together in various com

tions to perform . . . effectively for different orbits and payload weights." 49 

before the first launch of the Titan III-C, on 18 June 1965, DOD was urgi

NASA its feasibility as the booster for Surveyor and Voyager.50 NASA engi

conceded its effectiveness, but they could not use it in place of Saturn. Wi

completion of the Apollo and Sky lab programs, however, there was no furthe

for Saturn. Of necessity, NASA then turned to the Titan III for the l

payloads. 

At no one point did NASA and DOD freeze the number and configu

of their launch vehicles. Instead, they coordinated research and developm

several levels. One such way was to narrow the options. The Nova vehicl

dropped when it became apparent that the Saturn would be large enough f

226 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

Apollo mission. Another way was to coordinate advanced research for vehicles for 

which there was no immediate need. Take, for instance, the history of the large 

solid-fuel propulsion program.51 In his 25 May 1961 message to Congress, 

Kennedy designated DOD as the agency to develop solid propellant motors. 

Although NASA, for technical reasons, chose to concentrate on liquid fuels, it was 

recognized that NASA's requirement for a solid-fuel motor might be greater than 

that of the Air Force.* In December 1963 NASA agreed to fund the program and 

on 1 March 1965 assumed full management responsibility for developing the 

6.6-meter motor, even though no money was provided for it in the 1966 budget 

request. Webb was called on by several congressional committees to explain why 

NASA was discontinuing a program developed over such a long period and at such 

great expense. The provoking aspect of his testimony was his steadfast refusal to 

say that the program was being "canceled" or "terminated" -only that no more 

funds would be requested. 2 5 He also contrived to convey that NASA had to do this 

kind of advanced research in order to anticipate whatever the space program 

would require. In fact, NASA kept the program alive for another two years 

through reprogrammings and the partial restoration of funds by Congress. The 

success of the large-solid-motor program was measured less by the production of -

a new vehicle than by the demonstration of its feasibility. Nevertheless, such a 

program could hardly be continued at a time when NASA flight programs were 

being cut or eliminated from the budget. 

Also important in developing a national stable of launch vehicles was the 

joint study begun in July and completed in December 1964 by the AACB Launch 

Vehicle Panel.53 The study confirmed that the existing vehicles were adequate to 

the needs of NASA and DOD. The panel was invited to consider three options, 

exclusive of the Saturn V and the Scout: continued use of existing vehicles, including the Titan III; the first option less the Titan booster; and the first option 

less the Saturn lB. The panel concluded that there would be a cost difference of 

less than 1 percent among these options and that no major savings would result 

from shifting from present launch vehicles to a system based largely on the 

Titan III. Coming near the midpoint of the Apollo program, the study confirmed 

that coordination between NASA and DOD was successful; that the Titan III 

would be a favored launch vehicle for major programs to come in the late 1960s; 

and, most significant, that the process of choosing a launch vehicle depended on 

the mission that the user agency had in mind. The panel examined all the costs, 

direct and indirect, first of developing, then of producing a launch vehicle; and one 

of its conclusions was that the production cost was often the least important 

element in determining whether or not a vehicle should be used. In certain cases, 

booster costs were as little as 8 percent of total mission costs; the rest was 

accounted for by the cost of the spacecraft, the integration of the spacecraft and 

the booster, and the preparation of the mission. 54 In sum, the 1964 launch vehicle 

• True for the 6.6-meter motor but not for smaller boosters. Minuteman was a solid-fuel missile, while the 

Titan 111-C used 3,05-meter solid-fuel strap-on boosters. 

227 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

study derived more precise estimates for the cost of producing launch vehicle

substituting one vehicle for another, and for confirming the NASA decision t

the Saturn IB for Apollo. 

Interagency Support and Coordination 

One can only skim the complex of relations between NASA and DOD

convenience, "support" and "coordination" can be distinguished as follows: 

port is where one agency assists in carrying out the other's programs; coordin

is where the agencies exchange information on programs being managed by e

or both, in order to avoid unnecessary duplication. These definitions are sca

watertight. In particular cases where the Air Force supported NASA, there 

also an element of coordination, since NASA and the Air Force used diff

contractors for common use items, even in cases where they used the same ite

Also certain programs, like Gemini, took on some aspects of a joint progra

they proceeded. Thus support and coordination are relative terms, and ther

spectrum of possibilities from single management at one end to joint projects a

other. 

One of AACB's principal functions was to detect and eliminate was

duplication. As one may have come to expect, there is nothing self-evident a

the term. The mere fact that both NASA and DOD were sponsoring resear

space medicine or microbiology hardly meant that half of it was unnecessa

1963 joint review of space medicine in NASA and DOD recognized that d

cation was warranted, "if the research problems demanded more than one 

proach, if there was a scarcity of support in the particular problem area, o

was necessary for maintaining 'in-house' capability." 55 Or consider faci

coordination between NASA and DOD. At the annual AACB review NASA 

represented by William Fleming of the Office of Programming, who was 

ceeded in 1968 by Robert Curtin, the Director of the Office of Facilities. As 

basic research tasks or colocated tracking stations, tht;re were no hard-and

criteria regarding warranted duplication, but there were certain rules of th

A facility that went beyond existing capabilities was not considered as duplica

But even where one facility was similar to another, there were often extenu

circumstances. Duplication could be tolerated where one agency could not ha

the other's workload,t or where one laboratory was intended to support a pro

peculiar to one agency,* or where one agency considered the other's research 

• Under pressure from GAO, NASA and DOD carried out certain "economy studies" in 1968-1969

aimed at consolidating such things as photographic work at the Eastern Test Range and the Kennedy 

Center. 

t This was the justification for the Ames Space Science Research Laboratory, although some similar wo

performed at the Air Force Cambridge Research Laboratory. 

* E.g., the Spacecraft Instrumentation Evaluation Facility at MSC, whose capabilities could not be dup

by existing DOD facilities. 

228 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

in the national interest.* In general, the annual facilities review worked by a 

process of "distillation"; thus in July 1968 NASA initially considered some eighty 

projects and ended by reviewing only fourteen. 56 The final joint review was the 

end of a long series of prior decisions. Indeed, some projects were dropped, less 

because of.duplication than for other reasons, for example, because the facility was 

too far ahead of current needs. In sum, the existence or necessity of duplicating 

projects or facilities created problems for NASA and DOD that had to be resolved 

on a case-by-case basis. 

These instances of NASA-DOD coordination should suffice to demonstrate 

the general principles. Most of the studies involving AACB panels were technical 

and noncontroversial. Some, like the 1968-1969 economy studies, were intended 

to consolidate base support at the Eastern Test Range and the Kennedy Space 

Center. Others, like the 1963 review of space medicine research, were information 

exchanges designed to provide a common data bank. In yet another category were 

joint studies of research that both NASA and DOD thought potentially useful: a 

· 1966 study of reusable launch vehicles; a 1968 study of the Data Relay Satellite, 

which could assume many of the tracking and command functions performed by 

ground stations; or a 1969 study of the feasibility of a single space transportation 

system for NASA's and DOD's use.57 These examples may stand for a host of 

others. In very few cases did these studies raise issues that could not be resolved 

at the working level. Where the two agencies could not agree was in the sphere 

where program philosophy and program management overlapped, particularly in 

the cases of Gemini and the Manned Orbiting Laboratory. 

Finally, something should be said about NASA support for DOD. The 

support took three forms: testing DOD prototypes at NASA facilities, sharing 

knowledge gained in NASA programs with other agencies, and conducting research on behalf of DOD. To exemplify the first category, NASA tested 130 flight 

models between 1961 and 1969 in Langley wind tunnels. 58 This support proved 

so valuable that officials indicated in 1969 that "DOD expects to ask for help on 

each new system, in the future placing even heavier demands on NASA." 59 In the 

second category were the various experiments performed aboard Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo; one might add communications satellites like Syncom, which 

began as NASA projects and ended up transferred to DOD. In the third category 

was NASA support for the B-70 supersonic plane and for the "limited warfare" 

research project on behalf of the services in Vietnam. The Air Force had intended 

the B-70 to be a manned strategic bomber, despite grave doubts about its feasibility or necessity. By late 1962 it was known in Air Force circles that McNamara would never allow the B-70 to enter production with a new generation of 

manned bombers; and the plane, renamed the XB-70, became an experimental 

model that flew instrumentation installed by NASA. In March 1967 the Air Force 

transferred management to NASA, after which the XB-70 continued as a joint 

project for another two years.60 The agreement was advantageous to both sides, 

• As DOD considered the V/ STOL Research Laboratory at Langley to be. 

229 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

since the Air Force could cut the losses it incurred in sponsoring the proto

a strategic bomber that would never be built. NASA, on the other hand, w

the vehicle for its own research, particularly in connection with the c

supersonic transport program. This case was the reverse of Syncom: What 

as a program to develop an Air Force weapon system ended as a joint re

project mostly funded by NASA. 

· · A more unusual kind of technical support was provided by the 

Limited Warfare Committee, established in December 1965 after the Air 

Systems Command asked NASA to develop certain kinds of hardware for 

Vietnam.61 Given the nature of the terrain and the strategy of guerrilla w

the services needed unconventional technical support for a war that was no

fought by conventional rules. Most of the research was carried out at Ain

JPL, involved about 100 scientists and engineers, and cost NASA between 

$5 million a year. The limited warfare program led to some ingeniously de

equipment: a quick method of patching holes in inflated life rafts, a bette

chute steering mechanism, a helicopter that did not make a chopper no

acoustic detector that located mortars by ground vibrations, and an aircraft 

marker. Although the specific tasks that NASA performed were classified, t

that NASA was doing this kind of work for the military was generally k

Nevertheless, this support-although it was fundamentally no different fro

other NASA research applied by DOD-placed NASA on somewhat 

ground. Except for the clause in the Space Act that enjoined NASA to 

available to DOD "discoveries that have military value or significanc

program lacked clear authorization and made NASA vulnerable to congre

inquiry. For these reasons and because it had achieved its purpose, the 

warfare program was phased out in 1969. 

GEMINI AND THE MOL DECISION, jANUARY 1963-AUGUST 1965 

An account of NASA's Gemini program and of DOD's Manned O

Laboratory (MOL) brings into sharper focus all the elements of support, 

nation, and rivalry discussed so far. Gemini was a NASA program coord

with DOD. Under the terms of the Gemini agreement, DOD took p

planning experiments, launch operations, and flight operations. Yet the fo

preceding the agreement was marked by McNamara's attempt to take o

program, first, by informally proposing a merger of NASA-DOD manned 

programs under DOD management, then by formally proposing a join

gram.*62 NASA could not accept either arrangement without compromis

independence. Gemini had been planned to meet the needs of NASA's m

program; it had been under way since December 1961; it had been designe

military needs in mind; and it could not be transferred from NASA w

*According to one source, McNamara proposed that DOD take over all manned flight in Earth orbi

all flights beyond Earth orbit. 

230 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

causing substantial delay. There were also compelling political reasons for Gemini to remain within NASA, since the arrangement by which NASA operated 

tracking stations in Mexico, Nigeria, Zanzibar, and Spain prohibited their use to 

support military programs. Under McNamara's terms these stations would be 

unavailable, and the existence of a joint civilian-military program would jeopardize negotiations for tracking stations elsewhere.63 The effect of transferring 

Gemini to DOD would be to place in doubt NASA's image as a civilian agency 

dedicated to the peaceful exploration of space. But beyond these objections, cogent 

as they were, NASA officials sensed that they could not accede to such a proposal 

and still retain control over their programs. Just before the meeting that preceded 

the final agreement, Webb wrote to Seamans that 

I have no doubt whatever that McNamara is underrating the problems that will be created 

with Congress if he insists on the participation in our management or that we participate in 

the management of the development of military equipment such as weapons systems. We can 

contribute a great deal, but when it comes to the actual development, that is not our function 

under the law. • 

... Under the proposed arrangement, we would lose control of the research which we will 

do. The basic policy from NACA days is that we would fund it, and would do it. This made 

us independent of those who wanted us to undertake contract research, but, of course, we were 

always sensitive to their needs.64 

The Gemini agreement deferred for almost a year the issue of how a military 

space program might impinge on NASA. Under the terms of the pact, "Gemini 

was not to be thought of as a joint program, but rather as a program serving 

common needs, with the Department of Defense paying for the military features, 

NASA in full charge of the program, and the role of the [Gemini Program 

Planning] board strictly advisory." 65 The disagreement over Gemini had nothing 

to do with whether NASA would support the military or not. That support was 

never in question, only NASA's right to determine how it would provide it. Webb 

insisted-even more in private than in public- that NASA served the purposes of 

national security; that NASA and DOD should act in the future, as they had in 

the past, on the basis of coordination, not joint management; and that the objective 

of military control in space required- the kind of research that was "being done at 

this stage more efficiently in NASA than it could be done elsewhere." When, in 

July 1963, Vice President Johnson phoned Webb to ask how much of "our 

present peaceful space program can be militarily useful," he replied, 

All of it can be directly or indirectly militarily useful. . . . All these ground installations can, 

in time of need, be converted to, or can be utilized to handle, military requirements. 66 

The Gemini agreement raised troubling questions about the purpose and 

future of manned military space programs. Although Dyna-Soar was not dropped 

until December 1963, its cancelation had been expected for almost a year prior to 

the fprmal announcement. As early as March 1963, in discussions between top 

*This, however, was what NASA did for DOD in establishing a limited warfare program. 

231 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

officials of NASA and DOD, McNamara, according to Webb, had asked 

benefits Dyna-Soar would have for NASA "and whether or not those b

could not be obtained from some other program ... rather than having to 

the 600 million dollars involved in funding the Dyna-Soar project." 67 NcN

was already thinking ahead to a military space station, and the summer o

was marked by interagency negotiations on the coordination of studies for m

orbital space stations that led to a joint agreement in September. The anno

ment of Dyna-Soar's cancelation was yoked with. one to authorize the M

a program that would use a Gemini capsule to house a two-man crew for 

of up to thirty days. This led to the impression that MOL was a substitu

Dyna-Soar, when the truth was a little more complex. Dyna-Soar had atte

too many things at once, among which, to develop precise reentry and la

capabilities and to test the capability of man in space. It had outgrow

Titan I and Titan II boosters and, in any case, could carry only one man, 

than the two-man crew of MOL. But the latter was not simply a tradeoff f

former; Dyna-Soar was aimed at maneuverability and reentry problems, 

MOL was to investigate the uses of men working in space in a "shirt-sle

environment. 

The final authorization of MOL was piecemeal. The initial decis

10 December 1963 was followed by the joint NASA-DOD agreem

25 January 1965 and the final approval given by President Johnson on 25 A

1965. While many details remain classified, enough is known about M

clarify the reasons that led to approval. The elements leading to the 1963 

decision included pressure from the Air Force to demonstrate the need 

manned military space program and from Congress (especially the House 

ernment Operations Committee) to explore the military uses of space, an

sentiment, not stated publicly by Defense officials, that the Air Force 

receive something in return for the cancelation or phasedown of the S

missile, the B-70, and Dyna-Soar.68 The significance of Dyna-Soar in this c

is that there was not room in the Air Force budget for both Dyna-Soar and M

and that cancelation of the former was one more illustration of McNam

concern for economy and cost-effectiveness. Because MOL would be bas

proven technology, rather than on Apollo hardware not yet flown, the Air F

case was much improved. By basing the program on Gemini rather than A

the Air Force could also use its Titan III, rather than NASA's Saturn IB

The 1963 decision to authorize MOL inaugurated a definition phas

lasted twenty months, to August 1965. The original plan called for the "

ini B" capsule, attached to an orbiting pressurized cylinder (the "laboratory

McNamara described as "approximately the size of a house trailer." 69 Alt

-· the program would be supported by Gemini's tracking network, it wou

totally funded and managed by DOD. Yet on certain critical matters, McN

either said nothing or spoke in the vaguest terms. As DOD officials saw it, 

was not a space station and did not come within the terms of the Sept

agreement with NASA. Yet the reasons given for the program only raised d

232 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

as to its necessity. How accurate was McNamara's assertion that MOL involved 

no duplication of Gemini? What, precisely, could MOL do that could not be done 

equally well by unmanned spacecraft or by Gemini itself? And if MOL was not 

a space station (though to all appearances it seemed to be one), how would it affect 

NASA's plans for a post-Apollo space station? These doubts were not so much 

removed as ignored by McNamara and top Air Force officials as they began the 

tedious process of specifying the details of MOL. 

In fact, this preliminary phase lasted as long as it did because the MOL 

concept raised questions of cost, timing, and, most of all, requirements. An ad hoc 

subcommittee of the Space Vehicle and Space Sciences Panels of PSAC reported 

in November 1963 that a general purpose space station could not be justified for 

military or nonmilitary purposes; that a nonrecoverable space station should not 

be considered by the military until it had been decided that the Gemini and Apollo 

capsules were inadequate for military purposes; finally, that DOD should begin 

a test program using a one-man Gemini capsule launched by a Titan 11.711 Moreover, the Bureau of the Budget, which had to authorize the program, took more 

than a year to study MOL before approving it. As late as November 1964 the 

Bureau's Military Division could find little to justify a separate MOL. A Bureau 

staff paper of that date assembled most of the objections to MOL and summarized 

them forcefully: 

The contributions that an operational manned system would make ... appear to have been 

sufficiently established ... and, therefore, specific space flight experiments, like those proposed for the MOL, are not required for this purpose ... . 

An operational system for these [military) uses would require a vehicle larger than the 

MOL. ... 

The cost of such a manned system would clearly be far greater than that of an unmanned 

system for the same purposes.

71 

And the study concluded that the MOL "did not now appear justified on the basis 

of the originally stated need for an experimental testing of the potential capabilities of manned space flight for high priority military purposes."72 If the Defense 

Department thought MOL necessary, then the program should, at the least, be 

"nationalized," that is, made the basis for experiments of both military and 

general interest. In short, elements within the Bureau of the Budget were still very 

sceptical about MOL twelve months after it had been initially approved. 

What was the NASA position toward MOL? Webb, Dryden, and Seamans 

were told in advance of the MOL decision and agreed to it. Other NASA officials, 

however, were not briefed, not even George Mueller who, as Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight, would be the official most concerned with the 

project.71 It was Webb's stated policy not to "second-guess" the military and not 

to oppose DOD programs that did not directly oppose NASA interests, if MOL 

could be said to fall into that category. It would also be politic, at the least, not 

to clash head-on with the Air Force over something that the Air Force was bent 

on having. Publicly, NASA officials defended MOL up to the day of its cancel233 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

ation in June 1969. They insisted that MOL was a military project wi

overall national space program; that it complemented, rather than dup

Apollo; and that the two agencies were workin~ on the Air Force projec

same spirit in which they had defined Gemini. 4 And indeed, during 1

1965 NASA and DOD concluded a number of working-level agreements 

the MOL mission, several of which involved the good offices of the Direct

Bureau of the Budget.7' Privately, however, several NASA engineers and 

ers took a position scarcely distinguishable from the 1963 report of th

Space Vehicle and Space Sciences subcommittee. As they saw it, the Air Fo

maneuvering DOD "into a position of defining the MOL program as the N

Space Station," thereby putting pressure on NASA to fly its experiments 

Gemini B. Furthermore, the Air Force wanted to remove the progra

AACB coordination and start a direct relationship with NASA.76 On t

grounds, they were equally sceptical; considerably less than 1 percent of 

obtained by MOL would be superior to what would be obtainable from a

systems.77 On the basis of studies conducted by NASA for DOD between J

and May 1965, the use of Apollo-Saturn was found preferable to Gem

Titan III. The former could place very large payloads in orbit, which c

manned continuously through rendezvous resupply operations; while the 

command module could also accommodate a three-man crew, rather t

two-man crew of Gemini B.78 In effect, some NASA technical managers su

that MOL really did duplicate NASA programs, at a time when in

Congressmen were demanding less duplication and more standardizatio

President Johnson approved MOL, one may assume, because the A

made a convincing case on its behalf, while those within the Governm

opposed it fell into line. Sometime early in December 1964, the Directo

Bureau of the Budget (Kermit Gordon) and the President's Science 

(Dr. Donald Hornig) decided to support it. On 10 D~cember Gordon reco

understanding reached between himself, Hornig, Webb, and McNamara

agreed that the program would emphasize military experimentation, ass

structures in space, and reconnaissance; other objectives, mainly scientific

be sought in cooperation with NASA; and NASA and DOD would define 

ments to support these goals.79 The studies carried out by NASA as pa

agreement were intended to refute the contention that MOL would simpl

cate Gemini and Apollo. The pressure to cancel or drastically alter M

been growing since the fall of 1964; thus Senator Clinton Anderson (

Mex.), chairman of the Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space S

wrote to the President urging that military and civilian space stations be c

to avoid waste.80 The joint statements of Webb and McNamara on 25 J

1965 dismissed that possibility out of hand. Both confirmed the unders

arrived at in December: MOL would be a military program with NASA 

it would be directed to military purposes but also to certain broader s

purposes; and NASA would compare AP.ollo and Gemini systems to se

would best serve the ends of the program. 1 By April DOD had decided to 

234 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

with Gemini B and to let a design definition contract with McDonnell Aircraft. 

On 4 June the Military Operations Subcommittee of the House Government 

Operations Committee released a report that pushed the MOL in the most 

forceful way.82 The committee recommended that DOD "should, without further 

delay, commence full-scale development of a manned orbital laboratory . .. project." On 9 July NASA and DOD officals briefed the Space Council on MOL and 

NASA plans for manned space stations. Finally, on 25 August President Johnson 

approved MOL. After almost two years of discussion and analysis, the Air F()rce 

had its program.83 

MOL was approved because the Air Force, backed by several congressional 

committees, wanted it, because NASA chose to support it, and because the Budget 

Bureau and the President's Science Advisor ultimately accepted the merits of the 

experimental program.

84 The views of the decision makers on the merits of the 

classified experiments and on whether MOL could effectively implement them 

actually controlled the decision. If McNamara, Hornig, and the others had not 

been convinced, the decision would have gone the other way. 85 NASA took the 

position that MOL did not duplicate any current NASA program, was not a space 

station, and could be justified on its own terms. Whatever reservations NASA 

officials had, they kept to themselves. Given the limited experimental nature of the 

final approved program, it could be argued that MOL did not compete with 

NASA's plans for manned orbital space stations. NASA's plans were far more 

grandiose. In any case, neither the Manned Orbiting Research Laboratory nor the 

National Multipurpose Space Station nor "Apollo X" was ever approved in 

anything resembling the original form. The threat to NASA was that the duplication argument could be turned around so easily. Prior to MOL approval, the 

program was criticized for duplicating NASA hardware and systems. Once approved, the argument turned back on NASA. Even before final approval, one 

NASA official wondered if pressure 

would be applied to NASA .. . to fty our experiments on MOL if, in fact, it appears that it 

would be less expensive to accommodate these on MOL rather than the [Apollo Extension 

Systems] program.

86 

And in March 1966 the House Government Operations Committee issued a 

report recommending a merger of MOL and Apollo Applications. 87 Whatever the 

merits of the duplication controversy, the existence of a manned military program 

in space was bound to impinge on NASA's post-Apollo planning. 

CONCLUSIONS 

The connections between military and civilian space programs were so ramifying and complex that it is advisable to state the most important ones as summary 

conclusions. 

235 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

First, although it began as an agency that depended heavily on DOD 

port, NASA succeeded in freeing itself from overt DOD control by 1963. Whe

one considers Gemini, the management of the Merritt Island Launch Area, or 

existence of colocated tracking stations, the pattern is the same. NASA w

cooperate with DOD but never to the point of relinquishing its authority to m

its needs. The shift from dependence began within the first two years follow

NASA's creation. NASA began to work on active, as well as passive, com

nications satellites, despite an informal agreement with DOD to work only on 

former. NASA had moved well beyond such understandings in asserting its r

to manage its programs, to modify military launch vehicles to serve as boos

and to let contracts to firms already heavily involved in defense work. 

During NASA's first three years, the Air Force went to considerable len

to become the dominant partner in the national space program. Even some y

later, Boone observed that "the Air Force is inclined to look upon NASA 

competitor rather than a partner in the field of space." 88 By 1963, however, 

Air Force needed NASA almost as much as NASA needed the Air Force. NA

was doing basic research in the life sciences, in the com?0sition of the up

atmosphere, and in propulsion that was as valuable for military as for civ

purposes. The NASA centers had research and test facilities that the serv

needed badly, among which were sixteen different wind tunnels, a ground-b

flight-motion simulator, and an 18.3-meter vacuum environmental sphere. 

framework within which the two agencies coexisted could accommodate alm

any kind of program management, whether it was a program managed by 

agency with the other sharing in planning experiments (Gemini, MOL); a j

program (X-15); a program started by one agency and transferred to the o

(Syncom, the large solid motor); a joint program primarily funded by one ag

(XB-70); or programs "whose success is dependent on the functioning of sepa

co-operating systems" (Syncom, Anna IB geodetic satellite). The relationship 

strong enough to endure almost any strain, provided it was grounded in mu

respect. 

Second, the inevitable overlap of two agencies working in the same rese

area:s was made tolerable by the concept of warranted duplication. There coul

duplication in programs, facilities, and research tasks as long as they were 

dressed to agency needs or represented different approaches to the same rese

problem. Two facilities or programs were seldom identical, in any case. But 

plication could even be defended as a positive good, insofar as it widened 

number of options available. The ballistic missile programs of the 1950s wer

that sense, test cases for the virtues of duplication. As Sapolsky observes, 

Looking back it is quite possible to select the 'best missile proposals' (or, conversely, to poi

to obvious mistakes), but this can be done only because the range of alternatives and the

limitations are known. At the time when initial allocations had to be made, nothing was ce

tain. Centralizing decision making and eliminating competition (retrospectively, duplicatio

then would only have decreased the probability of obtaining the best system within any giv

time period.

89 

236 
THE STRUCTURE OF NASA-DOD RELATIONS 

Third, most of the coordination between NASA and DOD was handled quite 

efficiently by working-level groups at the centers or by AACB panels. There were, 

however, cases where agreement could only be reached by the agency heads or, 

failing that, by referral to the Bureau of the Budget or the President. In one 

instance, NASA and DOD could not agree on funding arrangements for NASA 

launches at the Eastern Test Range. The history of that controversy suggests the 

old saw that the case was "hopeless, but not serious." When one considers that the 

matter was exhaustively studied and that the Director of the Budget could provide 

only an interim solution, it suggests that NASA and DOD could survive the strain. 

Even the most explosive disagreements, such as those over Gemini and the space 

station programs, were defused, if not by general managers like Seamans or R&D 

directors like Brown, then by the heads of the agencies involved. The important 

point is that the preconditions for coordination existed. What were they? One, that 

DOD should accept NASA's definition of a "coordinated" program as one where 

concurrence was "not required as a pre-condition to further action" 90; two, that 

both agencies should have a mutual interest in cooperating; three, that NASA's 

programs, particularly.in manned spaceflight, should have a priority sufficiently 

high to require support by the services;' and four, that both agencies should 

centralize the organization of their space and launch vehicle programs to make 

cooperation possible. The last point refers to the NASA reorganizations of 1961 

and 1963, the creation of the Air Force Systems Command, the merger of the 

Eastern and Western Test Ranges under a single National Range Division, and 

the use by both agencies of AACB. panels as standing committees to regulate the 

working-level coordination of military and civilian programs. Perhaps the most 

remarkable thing about the NASA-DOD relationship is not that it worked so 

well, but that so often practice was better than theory, and mutual interest 

overrode the funding and duplication controversies recounted in this chapter. 

237 

Chapter 9 

NASA's Long-Range Planning, 1964-1969 

The purpose of this chapter is to trace NASA planning from 1964, when 

NASA drafted its first tentative proposals for a sequel to Apollo, to 1969, 

when it sent a comprehensive plan to the President's Space Task Group. Rather 

than enumerating the details of each plan and task report, the discussion describes 

the assumptions behind NASA planning, maps the transition from one kind of 

planning to another, and above all, explains why NASA, having promised so 

much, delivered so little. To assess NASA planning one must break it into 

components. One must know where in NASA and by whom the planning was 

done, how the existence of certain kinds of technology (e.g., in launch vehicles) 

affected planning, and what kinds of organizational changes were preconditions 

for carrying out substantive programs. This chapter argues, first, that many 

disagreements over future programs, especially between NASA officials arid nonNASA scientists, were really disagreements over governance; second, that the 

principal flaw of almost every agency plan- whether commissioned by general 

management or by the program offices-was the failure to describe organizational 

changes that would have to accompany the programs that officials were trying to 

sell; and third, that some of the most successful planning was embodied in the 

small-scale, incremental changes or adaptations made by the centers, which did 

not constitute part of any agencywide plan. In the following discussion, NASA 

planning is scrutinized in the light of these assertions. 

ORIGINS OF NASA PLANNING, 1959-1963 

Certain features of the civilian space program set the terms on which NASA 

planning occurred. In the 1960s NASA was an agency with a single mission but 

with numerous subordinate goals, not all of which were consistent with each 

239 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

other.* The Space Act was permissive rather than mandatory as far as ends w

concerned. It was a shopping list as much as an enabling act, which freed NA

to pursue those programs that were technically possible, politically feasible, 

challenging enough to enlist the support of key technical personnel. For th

reasons, manned spaceflight was never so dominant as to crowd out all o

program philosophies. For one thing, aeronautics remained an important pa

the supporting research that NASA did for other agencies. For another, there w

always a certain number of research programs within NASA that were indep

dent of the major programs. So that the agency might keep abreast of techn

developments, NASA thought it necessary to develop capabilities independen

any specific mission or use. This policy lessened the danger noted in a 1966 Se

report that "there may be a penalty attached to the 'approved mission' policy 

advanced development. Premature obsolescence is one hazard. Commitmen

resources before the full cost-:benefit can be known is another. The narrowin

component and subsystem engineering is a third." 1 

The substance of NASA planning was done by two groups, by center 

searchers and program managers, and by task forces and·-panels summoned f

time to time to provide the agency with advice. Within NASA, the most impor

planning consisted of advanced studies conducted by or commissioned for 

centers. The preceding account of the study programs stressed the measures ta

by management to avoid jurisdictional conflicts with DOD and to prevent C

gress from construing an approved study as an approved program. But this is 

quite the whole story; management did not regard studies as a necessary 

Studies did not normally lead to specific kinds of flight hardware. They were 

instead to demonstrate how NASA could improve the efficiency of launch veh

like the Saturn IB; develop future missions as extensions of current program

design models of in-flight experiments, especially those requiring the presenc

man. In addition, many studies kept alive concepts that might serve as base

programs not yet authorized by general management. 

The studies began almost as soon as NASA came into being. The ear

studies on the design and purposes of Earth-orbital space stations dated f

1959. By 1962 enough work had been done to justify a space station sympos

at Langley; and by 1968 one center, MSC, had conducted forty studies, which 

cost $6.3 million. 2 Although most of the centers had formal planning groups, t

centers-Langley, Marshall, and MSC, which established a Space Station S

Office in February 1962-were especially active in advanced studies. The con

of the orbiting space station fascinated NASA engineers because it could be 

to further almost every goal that, at one time or another, was annexed to the 

space program. An orbiting station might serve for space exploration, for b

research, for national security purposes, and for scanning the Earth's surface. 

• Note that what was a mission for a center or program office might be a subordinate goal for the age

large. There is no inconsistency in distinguishing a center's mission-e.g., to develop manned spacecraft

the NASA mission of putting a man on the Moon and returning him safely. 

240 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964- 1969 

centers and various ad hoc NASA-wide task forces had to explain what a space 

station would entail before they could convince management that the ideal was, 

in fact, worth pursuing. They had to show that a long-duration station, one that 

would operate for a year or more, was technically feasible. They had to study the 

vehicles that would be needed to resupply and equip the station. They had to know 

the environmental requirements of supporting a crew of a given size. Above all, 

they had to establish the justification for a manned station. The presence of man 

in space was at once the main justification for the space station and its greatest 

stumbling block, for it had to be demonstrated that man could do what a completely automated system could not. 

The immediately apparent feature of NASA study programs is the continuity 

of the research on space stations. What preceded and what was an alternative to 

the lunar landing program became, first, an "extension" of it and then a sequel 

to it. Between 19 59 and 1969 center planning groups confirmed that the basic 

technology for orbiting stations was available, that such stations could serve a 

variety of purposes, and that their cost could be reduced considerably by having 

them supplied by meaqs·of reusable space transportation systems.3 The impact of 

the studies was cumulative. Particularly as the first Apollo launches drew near, 

NASA increased the funding and manpower of the study groups. There was one 

agencywide study in 1966, another the following year, and two in 1968. The roots 

of post-Apollo planning lay in the agency's beginnings; by 1969, planning involved the combination of elements and concepts that already existed. 

By comparison, the planning offices reporting to the Administrator achieved 

very little. From 1959 to 1962 NASA prepared and updated a formal long-range 

plan, with projections of current and tentatively approved programs. In 1963 the 

plan was dropped, along with the Offices of Plans and Program Evaluation that 

drafted it. Other experiments, like the Policy Planning Board, were no more 

successful. The Board, a mixed panel of headquarters and center officials, met a 

few times in 1964- 1965 before its dissolution; and its members were advised that 

Webb did not want to receive any formal reports or recommendations.

4 Except for 

the Future Programs Task Group, which was created, under pressure from the 

White House, NASA management issued no formal statement of post-Apollo 

plans between 1963 and 1968. To be sure, the formal planning sequence worked 

badly: the long-range plan was not integrated with the budgetary process, offered 

little guidance to the program offices and centers, and tended to be distributed 

outside NASA before detailed project planning had taken place. 5 But none of these 

defects was beyond all remedy; presumably, if NASA management did nothing to 

improve long-range planning, it was because officials had no time and little use 

for it. By 1963 most of the funds that Congress was likely to vote were for 

currently authorized programs, leaving only modest sums for programs beyond 

advanced studies. Because Apollo and Gemini almost totally preoccupied key 

officials, it was difficult for most of them to spare much thought for a future that 

might be very different from the present. The tendency was mostly in the other 

direction, to a reduction of commitments. ·In the case of the supersonic transport 

241 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

program, Dryden, according to one source, successfully argued that the age

should limit itself to R&D support since, with Apollo under way, "NASA co

not politically sponsor two high-technology, enormously expensive program

the same budget years without one of them being sacrificed to the other or kil

each other off in competition for funds." 6 In any case, there seemed little poin

presenting Congress with ten-year cost projections for programs that would h

to be authorized one year at a time. 

But the principal reason for the absence of a long-range plan, encompas

all the others, was Webb's refusal to authorize one. 7 He would not commit him

publicly to new programs where costs were unpredictable, congressional appro

uncertain, the likelihood of changes ever present, and the program offices th

selves deeply divided over long-range plans. A formal plan would simply tie 

and other agency officials' hands. Despite a certain flamboyance of langu

Webb behaved as cautiously as the head of an agency that employed over 400 

persons and disposed of a $5.5 billion operating budget could be expecte

behave. He was convinced that the agency could not plan unilaterally, 

decisions about the sequel to Apollo were political decisions and, as such, 

prerogative of the President and Congress. When he, or Seamans on his beh

approved the annual study program, he did nothing more than encourage 

program offices to focus on the near-term prospects for technology already b

· developed. Neither Webb nor Seamans saw his role as one of blocking out 

outlines of future missions. That was the job of the program offices. In turn, t

insisted on their right to be informed, the right to be consulted, and the righ

warn. Later it is shown what Webb demanded of the program offices before t

plans could become line items in the NASA budget. 

THE FUTURE PROGRAMS TASK GROUP, 1964-1965 

The real point of departure for a survey of post-Apollo planning is the re

of the Future Programs Task Group. By the end of 1963, NASA had assumed 

organizational shape it was to retain into the 1970s, insofar as the field cen

reported to the directors of substantive program offices, NASA and DOD 

staked out their respective jurisdictions, and the large construction projects w

under way. 

But there were also signs that the honeymoon of NASA, Congress, and 

President was coming to an end. Congress had cut the Administration's bud

request for 1964 by more than 10 percent and a NASA request for a suppleme

appropriation by half. Potentially a more serious problem for NASA was 

agency's shifting position on the purpose of the lunar landing. Was the investm

in Apollo predicated on beating the Russians to the Moon?, to demonst

American technological superiority?, to inaugurate the exploration, not only of 

Moon, but of the near planets as well? Or was the Apollo mission a mean

create a capability to operate in space for whatever purposes the United St

242 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

chose? In practical terms, three-quarters of NASA's work force was working on 

some aspect of the manned spaceflight program. Unless NASA could sell a 

program to extend Apollo beyond the lunar landing, it would have to start 

disbanding most of the work force by 1966, when the major facilities would be 

completed and the Saturn V launch vehicle and the Apollo spacecraft would be in 

production. 

The Future Programs Task Group was cr~ated to prepare a reply to a letter 

dated 30 January 1964 from President Johnson to Webb. 8 With the 1965 budget 

due to go to the Hill, the President wanted to know what NASA was doing to lay 

the basis for future programs. The proximate reason for his letter pertained to the 

NERV A nuclear rocket program and the absence of near-term missions that 

would require it. But for Johnson, NERVA was only an excuse for what principally concerned him. Could NASA list possible space objectives beyond those 

already approved? What planned supporting research and technology would these 

aims require? How much of NASA's current R&D work, especially in launch 

vehicles, could be used in support of future programs? To prepare a reply Webb 

named Francis Smith, a Langley engineer and future Assistant Administrator for 

University Affairs, to head a special task force. Its summc>ry report, dated January 

1965, was released the following April. While the task force was drafting its 

report, Webb sent interim replies to the President, of which the first (20 May 

1964) outlined several possible future missions without choosing among them. But 

in a letter of 16 February 1965 he endorsed two specific objectives: the exploration 

of Mars by unmanned vehicles, already recommended by the Space Science Board 

in October 1964, and the use of the Saturn booster and the lunar module for a 

variety of missions in Earth and lunar orbit and for exploring the lunar surface. 

In a sense, Webb's letters and the final report were more significant for what they 

left unsaid than for their explicit proposals, of which there were few. Indeed, the 

Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences seized on the lack of 

specific recommendations as a basis for criticizing the report: "Alternatives are 

presented, but no criteria are given as to how a selection would be made." 9 This, 

however, was beside the point, since Johnson had asked only for "a statement of 

possible space objectives beyond those already approved." More serious criticisms 

were that the report contained little that was new, and that it said almost nothing 

about military applications and coordination with DOD. 

In fact, the Senate committee had hinted at real weaknesses in NASA's 

planning structure. Although Smith and the task group adhered to the letter of 

Johnson's instructions, one would suppose that if NASA had a specific postApollo plan, it would have been presented. If NASA presented options without 

choosing among them, it was because there was almost no agreement within 

NASA as to what should follow the lunar landing. But even if there had been 

something approaching unanimity, the climate in 1965 was unfavorable to ambitious space programs. Webb or Mueller might have been able to carry the agency 

with them. They were much less likely to carry the Bureau of the Budget, 

Congress, or the public. Moreover, NASA planning was complicated by its rela243 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

tion to military space programs. As shown, NASA had come to accept th

Force Manned Orbiting Laboratory (MOL) as a legitimate military program 

in no way conflicted with Apollo. Webb ratified the December 1964 memora

of understanding on the scope and purpose of MOL. But the Future Pro'g

Task Group report was silent about the potential conflict between a mi

MOL and a NASA space station in areas such as the experiments to be flow

availability of Apollo hardware for MOL, and the possibility of needless d

cation. Also, the 1961 Webb-Gilpatric agreement required NASA to see

approval of DOD before proceeding to develop a new launch vehicle. The 

AACB launch vehicle study demonstrated that NASA would save almost no

should it decide to switch from the Saturn to the Titan family of launch veh

Nevertheless, NASA engineers were seriously considering the Titan III a

launch vehicle for major programs listed as options for the 1970s: space st

in synchronous orbit or unmanned payloads to the near planets. But NA

1965 had not arrived at any firm conclusions as to how or whether it would m

the Titan III for its own purposes. 

To the extent that there was agreement, it was that Apollo had crea

capability to operate in space. But that was about the extent of agreement. W

for example, stressed "capability" almost to the exclusion of the program

capability made possible. In his view, the lunar landing mattered because i

the most dramatic proof that the United States had achieved the freedo

operate as it chose in space. At a 1965 briefing for Webb on "Apollo Exte

Systems," he dismissed the idea that the lunar landing was any kind of e

itself. What NASA was developing, his argument ran, was the "capability t

to launch, to get into orbit." 

We have got a hypothesis .. . that the lunar landing is the most useful way to do 

development and to prove we have done it. But this could actually be displaced in term

national objectives . 

. . . Now I don't want the argument to center on whether we know that we are going in '6

sometime later. I want it to center on the development of a capability which we have sev

possibilities to use . 

. . . I want to begin to talk about the true situation [rather] than to continue so sharply to f

on that just because President Kennedy used language that none of the three of us [W

Dryden, Seamans] recommended to him when he said "we will put a man on the moon

What kind of follow-on to Apollo would Webb approve? At the Apollo Exte

Systems and other briefings, he said more, far more, about what the A

mission might lead to than what, in his opinion, it ought to accomplish. H

willing enough that proposals should percolate upward from the program 

tors. But no proposal would become a budget line item until it met spe

conditions. First, it must involve minimal interference with the current A

mission; second, it should make the fullest use of existing hardware; third, 

to define with precision the goals and experiments of the proposed mission; f

it had to avoid the appearance of duplicating military programs, especially M

finally, it must not commit the agency to funding levels appreciably highe

244 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

the current approved budget.11 

Unlike the Administrator and general manager, the program directors were 

free to defend interests that were something less than agencywide. As Associate 

Administrator for Manned Space Flight, George Mueller had to tackle three 

problems, each of which could be resolved on condition that the other two were 

handled at the same time. He had to retain the funds and hold together the 

manpower- assembled for Gemini and Apollo, arrive at programs that he could sell 

to top management and Congress, and ensure that Apollo itself should somehow 

generate its sequel. Mueller's design was nothing if not ambitious. For the "mainline" Apollo program, he envisaged an annual flight schedule of six Saturn IBs, 

six Saturn Vs, and six launches of the Apollo spacecraft-the "6-6-6" formula, 

later changed to 6-6-8. 12 As for post-Apollo plans, Mueller enumerated five 

options: Earth-orbital programs for long-duration space stations; lunar operations; planetary landings; an all-out program in Earth-orbital, lunar, and 

planetary activities; and a "balanced" program that combined other options in a 

cost-effective way.

13 Each program would be directed to a precise objective. Thus, 

if the nation should desire direct economic benefits, the logical sequel to Apollo 

would be a program of Earth-orbital operations. In Mueller's view, Apollo 

Extensions-which became Apollo Applications in August 1965 and Skylab in , 

February 1970-was not so much one of the five program options as it was an 

intermediate step from Apollo to future programs. It was his conviction that the 

agency had to organize around one big mission rather than risk seeing its resources 

frittered away on a number of smaller ones. To disperse what had been assembled, 

only to reassemble it, would be immensely wasteful. Any new goal must have the 

same national priority as Apollo. Without some precise goal, such as the lunar 

landing, "I do not believe that our progress would have been as rapid, as widely 

supported, or as sound as it has been." 14 By late 1965 Mueller had seized upon 

a national goal that would more than equal Apollo: a manned landing on Mars 

and return by 1980. 

But this is getting ahead of the story. NASA was not a unitary, centralized 

agency; planning was done from the bottom up rather than the top down. Marshall and Houston had been doing space station studies since the early 1960s. In 

1964-1965 these centers and OMSF divisions at headquarters had begun to block 

out the elements of a post-Apollo planning organization. At Marshall von Braun 

created a Future Programs Group in the fall of 1964. At headquarters Mueller 

appointed William Taylor in May 1964 to head a special studies office to design 

a post-Apollo program; in October it was strengthened by the addition of a 

thirty-man task force established to consider uses for Apollo hardware through 

1971; and in August 1965 Mueller moved from advanced studies to project 

definition by establishing a Saturn/ Apollo Applications Office at headquarters.

15 

At that time and for several years beyond, OMSF planners considered two kinds 

of program: one using surplus Apollo hardware, the other pointing to the development of an Earth-orbital space station. Before the space station concept could 

become an approved program, Mueller, his center directors, and E. Z. Gray, the 

245 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

head of the OMSF Advanced Manned Missions Division, had to specify 

such a project would accomplish. In general terms, Mueller and Gray knew 

they wanted a space station to do. It would have to support a variety of ex

ments, which would be developed in modules attached to the main stati

would have to be deployable in a number of orbits, ranging from a 30° inclin

to synchronous orbits; it would require a minimum lifetime of three yea

would be designed for deployment in lunar orbit; and it should have "mo

growth potential to fully utilize the launch capability of the Saturn V whe

mission requirements develop to this level of size." 16 But working out the ge

principles was not easy; in late 1965 only three Apollo Applications experi

were under development.17 In addition, OMSF plans had to satisfy two req

ments: to furnish the Bureau of the Budget with precise cost estimate~ a

establish working relations with OSSA, which would make space scien

integral part of a follow-on to Apollo. 

Yet the differences between the program offices went deep. It was Ne

contention that "OSSA was established to be responsible for space scienc

unmanned space science," a conviction not shared by Mueller. 18 OMSF 

mission oriented, while OSSA was organized around research disciplines; 

Newell's office was not locked into fruitless, interminable arguments ov

merits of manned versus unmanned flights. Indeed, to most outside scientist

burden of proof that man was necessary to operate in space fell square

OMSF. Specifically, some scientists, especially those working for NASA as 

cipal investigators, thought that there was too little science and too muc

gineering in NASA; that flight experiments assumed the presence of man, wh

it was precisely his presence that had to be justified; and that the results obt

from Mercury and Gemini could have been obtained with much less expense 

automated systems. It was not that manned programs were unnecessary. A 

could be and was made that man was needed as a scientific observer, as a s

for medical experimentation, as a technician to maintain and repair equip

and as an astronaut-pilot, once low-cost space transportation systems be

available.

19 The point was to consider each case on its merits and to decid

instance, whether lunar exploration called for the trained astronaut-scien

package of scientific instruments left on the surface, or both. 

While OSSA claimed the authority to plan space science for the wh

NASA, OMSF had the money to pay for and to fly approved experimen

practice, the issues between the two offices had to be resolved by compromise

were not always acceptable to OSSA. In November 1963 Newell establis

Manned Space Sciences Division whose director, Willis Foster, reported t

and to Mueller; and in January 1964 Mueller created a Manned Space F

Experiments Board to evaluate recommendations for experiments to be flow

Gemini and Apollo. Under this arrangement, each program office was respo

for designing experiments within its own sphere: OSSA for space science, O

for technological experiments, and the OMSF Directorate of Space Medici

medical experiments. Meanwhile, a DOD review board would submit mi

246 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

experiments to be flown by NASA. 20 While the program offices had full authority 

to design experiments, OMSF had the ultimate authority to accept and integrate 

them with the flight hardware. 

THE SITUATION IN MID-1966 

By July 1966 the only definite result of NASA planning was the existence 

of several program alternatives, none of them authorized. At headquarters planning was being done, not only by specialized divisions within the program offices, 

but also by a Planning Coordination Steering Group (PCSG) established by the 

three program associate administrators late in 196!'>. In a joint memo to Seamans, 

they had proposed creating ad hoc planning groups to draw together the plans 

already drafted by the offices they directed.21 As finally approved by Seamans the 

PCSG would be supported by five working groups, each of which would review 

the planning already under way, use that planning as their point of departure, and 

then develop programs within guidelines set by PCSG. As a new entity with no 

independent base, PCSG did not play an important role until 1968-1969 when, 

under Newell's leadership, it tried to develop an agencywide plan for the 1970s. 

Meanwhile, OMSF and OSSA continued to do the most important planning. 

In OMSF, planning centered on the Earth-orbital space station and on the concept of an "orbital workshop" using the spent upper stage (S-IVB) of a Saturn 

IB (later changed to the Saturn V). The orbital workshop, which was at the heart 

of Apollo Applications, was supposed to perform a number of missions, including 

lunar exploration, solar astronomy, and experiments whose general purpose was 

to establish the usefulness of man in space. The basic Apollo Applications hardware would consist of the orbital workshop; a multiple docking adaptor for the 

command and service modules that would house the astronaut crew; an airlock 

connecting the workshop with the modules; and an Apollo Telescope Mount 

(A TM) that, attached to either the service module or the docked lunar module, 

would be an observatory to study the Sun's fine structure in 1969 during the solar 

maximum.22 The A TM was intended to carry out part of the mission of the 

Advanced Orbiting Solar Observatory (AOSO) canceled in December 1965, but 

it would go beyond AOSO in making use of man. The astronaut-scientist could 

orient and point the A TM in the general vicinity of the Sun, determine and set 

camera exposures and the sequences of the various experiments, recover exposed 

film and magnetic tapes, and select solar events of interest.23 This, in simplest 

terms, was what Apollo Applications was about. But other considerations tended 

to complicate this scheme, which itself was the product of two years of designs, 

advanced studies, and negotiations between OMSF and OSSA. How would the 

orbital workshop feed into the concept of the long-duration space station? Where, 

precisely, would the ATM be located? Was the ATM really the most effective 

way of doing solar astronomy or was it make-work for Marshall now that work · 

on Saturn was phasing down? Furthermore, the design and outfitting of the work-

·247 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

shop itself was not beyond criticism. The original plan-the one approv

Seamans in August 1966-called for launching a fueled S-IVB stage. Aft

fuel had been burned getting into orbit, the astronauts, who would be lau

separately, would outfit the stage as a workshop. This "wet" workshop wou

able NASA to use the Saturn IB instead of the Saturn Vas the launch vehicl

it also meant that the astronauts would have to assemble the workshop while 

ing in space,' something that Gemini had shown to be difficult and cumber

Had the difficulties involving Apollo Applications been purely tech

Mueller would still have had his hands full. ~ut organizational questions 

at the same time. Mueller wanted the entire program under OMSF cont

this and in the actual design of the ATM, he and Newell came to a parting 

ways. Newell argued that the ATM belonged on the service module-a pr

that even MSC Director Robert Gilruth had trouble accepting.

24 The upsh

that Mueller managed to persuade Seamans to assign the A TM to Marsha

to accept his proposal for placing the A TM on the lunar module. Seamans 

the project approval document authorizing the A TM on 29 August 196

weeks after Mueller and the Management Council had worked out the "rol

missions" of Apollo Applications in a series of meetings at Lake Logan, 

Carolina.Z5 Apollo Applications would follow the same pattern as the pr

from which it grew. Marshall was charged with developing the ATM a

workshop; Houston, with astronaut training, crew systems, and flight opera

The Lake Logan agreement confirmed that the management of Apollo Ap

tions would be concentrated in OMSF and that experiments and proposals 

be incorporated at the discretion of Mueller and his program directors. 

But the most serious problems dogging the program pertained to its u

lying assumptions: the role of man in Earth-orbital operations, the use of A

hardware, the wet workshop. All were subjected to very sharp criticism 

NASA officials, from Congress, from the Bureau of the Budget, and from v

scientific advisory groups; most of them stressed the lack of well-defined 

experiments and the possibility that the program would only duplicate MO

June 1966 Newell and his deputy, Edgar M. Cortright, drafted a memo po

to "the lack of a substantial, visible end product to serve as a focus for the 

After four or five years of activity, NASA will have spent many billions of d

and have relatively little to show for it in comparison with where we could 

space for about the same amount of money .... [Apollo Applications] a

configured just doesn't seem to justify such high costs for an extended peri

In Congress, critics of the program tended to seize on the possibility that A

Applications would wastefully duplicate MOL and that it was high tim

NASA and DOD to come together in a joint program.27 For different reaso

Bureau of the Budget shared this concern. Budget Director Charles Schult

Budget examiners were sceptical that NASA needed more money. In negot

with Webb, Dryden, and Seamans, he insisted that, while the Bureau had n

to reduce U .S. manned capability in space, neither did he believe that the 

248 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

budget should be based on what could be done within the limits of U.S. technical 

capability, on what the Russians were doing, or on the peak level of industrial 

manpower for developing Apollo. The space program was not a WPA. zx With 

important decisions pending, the Bureau needed answers to certain pressing 

questions. Should the nation continue manned flight after the lunar landing? 

Should NASA buy more launch vehicles and spacecra_ft to keep production lines 

running? And what specific manned space flight capability did the United States 

need? In the summer of 1966 NASA officials had not yet arrived at precise, 

definitive answers. 

THE ROLE OF THE OUTSIDE ADVISOR 

The job of long-range planning was immensely complicated by NASA's need 

for outside scientific and technical advice. NASA's various committees reflected 

the diverse purposes of the committee members?'' Some, like the Space Science and 

Applications Steering Committee (SSASC) and its subcommittees, were primarily 

source selection boards for evaluating flight experiments. Others, like the missions 

boards established in 196 7, were intended to map out long-range research and to 

serve all of NASA in a particular discipline. Last, there were bodies like the 

Manned Space Flight Science and Technology Advisory Committee (STAC), 

whose purpose was not so much to design future programs as to work out the 

details of programs already approved. The same diversity applied to membership 

as to purpose. The members of the Lunar and Planetary Missions Board, for 

example, were appointed by the Administrator but reported to the Associate 

Administrator for Space Science and Applications, the same official who appointed all the members of the SSASC subcommittees. 

What was the rationale for the mixed advisory boards? Why did NASA seek 

outside advice at all? What use did it make of such advice, and to what extent did 

advisors merely respond to the initiatives of NASA management? The principal 

reason for seeking outside advice was the impossibility of NASA providing it for 

itself. Unlike engineering, where NASA had talent comparable to the best in 

industry, NASA could not attract scientists of Nobel laureate caliber. Indeed, 

scientists of the highest rank were more valuable to NASA as consultants than as 

staff; a scientist not actively involved in ongoing research might find himself out 

of touch in little more than a year. Moreover, it was much more difficult to 

combine science and administration than it was to combine engineering with 

administration. As Newell complained in 1965, 

We have not yet solved the problem of how to maintain the continuing scientific competence 

of a professional scientist while at the same time asking him to devote his working hours to 

administration . . .. We can achieve the best in our scientific programs only if those in the 

very to~notch group have a major influence on the planning of science as well as in carrying 

it out.3 

249 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

The best scientists-Luis Alvarez, Harold Urey, Charles Townes- we

pared to serve as consultants, as members of advisory panels, and as p

investigators, but they were not willing to abandon lucrative consulting w

to submerge their careers in the larger goals of NASA programs. 

· Indeed, NASA's use of outside advisors was of a piece with its p

contracting for goods and services. The relation between NASA and its p

investigators was strictly contractual; the advisory bodies that passed on 

ment proposals were, legally, source selection boards. For the rest, the 

advisory panels served the same purposes as similar groups elsewhere 

Federal community. They provided independent appraisal by distinguish

siders; they were sources of new ideas; and, to a degree, they served to leg

programs that NASA officials independently decided the agency must ha

But whatever its virtues, the structure of the NASA advisory proc

serious drawbacks, especially its extreme complexity. Writing in 1967, one 

observed that "so many different types of institutions, organizations and r

ships are evolving currently that it is difficult even to enumerate, mu

describe the elements of the overall situation." 31 There was no substanti

of policy that set forth how or even why NASA had to draw on these gro

advice; there were important jurisdictional overlaps between the Space 

Board and internal advisory panels; and the center planning groups 

agency advisory committees were virtually insulated from each other. T

and Newell the problem with the advisory process was that it was unpa

and unsystematic and that it failed to involve !lcientists in policy making

scientists, including (or especially) those serving NASA as consultants or p

investigators, saw the problem as systemic rather than incidental to the 

advisory process. Their most prominent spokesmen, such as Norman R

Philip Abelson, and Bruce Murray, wanted autonomy in the making of 

policy that NASA was not prepared to give. Their argument boiled down 

propositions: that the separation of power and responsibility was dea

science; that NASA space science was hit-or-miss, with little evidence of c

planning; and that even a successful program like Surveyor ended as "a 

imitation of what it was intended to be, or what could have been done w

enormous funds and extended time." 32 

A brief account of the Lunar and Planetary Missions Board illustrat

generalities. Earlier, mention was made of the Ad Hoc Science Advisory C

tee established by Webb in January 1966 and chaired by Norman Ra

Harvard chemistry professor. The committee was created not to advise on 

projects but rather to examine how to conduct the program and to sugge

of involving outside scientists to a greater degree in science policy mak

thoroughly did the Ramsey committee do what it was asked to do, that all 

of its proposals had to be turned down. Its recommendation for a general 

committee of outside scientists was rejected because it would have req

fundamental reorganization of the agency and because it might force the 

istrator to choose between accepting the committee's advice and suppor

250 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

President's program . .~' Webb and Newell flatly rejected a proposal for strengthening the scientific competence of the laboratories at Marshall and for reorganizing 

the centers generally to give experimenters greater power. They did accept the 

suggestion for a consortium of universities to manage the construction of space 

observatories. Even the proposal that NASA did accept, for the creation of a 

Planetary Missions Board, had been tentatively approved by NASA before the 

Ramsey committee completed its work. Officially established as of 1 May 1967, 

the Lunar and Planetar~ Missions Board (and the Astronomy Missions Board 

established in November) was to be an advisory committee of outside scientists 

appointed by Webb, although the executive director, as required by law, was a 

NASA employee detailed from OSSA.34 In three respects the Board's terms of 

reference were broader than those of any previous advisory body, even if they fell 

short of the general advisory committee recommended in the Ramsey report. It 

was chartered to perform its functions for all of NASA, not just OSSA; unlike the 

Space Science Board, its members had access to NASA internal documents; and 

"unlike previous advisory bodies, the LPMB was to consider both general and 

specific NASA objectives." 3 ' 

The Board might have had a greater effect on NASA policy had it been 

created a few years earlier. The Board members wanted an integrated program 

as they conceived it, one with a balance between a few large missions and smallscale programs using automated spacecraft. The Board ultimately failed in its 

purpose largely because its m,embers could not bring themselves to accept the 

cancelation of programs that they considered to be essential. Each program cutback or termination from 1967 through 1970 marked a stage in the deterioration 

of relations between the Board and NASA: the cancelation of Voyager in September 1967, Mueller's indifference to the Board's recommendations, the September 1969 report of the President's Space Task Group, the cancelation of two 

Apollo flights in 1970. Committed as they were to a vision of what was 

scientifically desirable, Board members had little patience for the budgetary pressures that shaped NASA from without and the internal forces that made it im--

perative to keep manned space programs alive at the expense of smaller unmanned 

ones. To them, as well as other scientists who served as principal investigators, the 

agency was simply the only .available means for achieving certain important ends. 

It should be stressed that there was no basic difference between those scientists 

who supported and those who publicly criticized-NASA; indeed, some of NASA's 

severest critics, like University of Iowa physicist James van Allen, often served as 

principal investigators. What disturbed Board members was the sacrifice of programs like Surveyor and Lunar Orbiter to what they regarded as engineering 

extravaganzas. When they learned the details of the report of the President's 

Space Task Group, which had recommended a manned mission to Mars before 

the end of the century, their first reaction was to offer to resign; and further 

decisions to replace several Apollo missions with Skylab and move the Viking 

project to 197 5 only added to their frustration. The changes and cancelations 

strengthened their conviction "that science was accorded second-citizen status" 

251 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

and that "the scheduling of the lunar exploration is matched more to engin

ing . . . than to scientific requirements."36 The gulf between the Board 

NASA was unbridgeable, and in August 1970 the Lunar and Planetary Miss

Board held its final meeting. 

Rather than specific recommendations concerning future programs, the o

riding issue between NASA and the scientific community was governance

decisions on what programs should be approved and at what level of funding 

who should be charged with conducting space science supported with pu

funds. In turning to the actual recommendations of the advisory bodies on w

NASA drew, the surprising thing is how cautious they were in drafting p

Apollo programs. Most of them endorsed the validity of manned spaceflight 

all argued in favor of a "balanced" program as they conceived it. The govern

issue was seldom raised explicitly; for that, one must turn to the report of 

Ramsey committee or the papers of the Lunar and Planetary Missions Boar

In the papers of the Space Science Board, one finds some cautiously wo

criticism regarding the content, rather than the organization, of the space p

gram. In 1965-1966 the Board released several reports bearing on long-ra

plans, three of which were based on a summer study held at Woods H

Massachusetts, in 1965.

37 The study was sponsored by the National Academ

Sciences and funded by NASA. Two conclusions are noteworthy: that the natio

space program should embrace a number of goals rather than a single overrid

mission and that there should be a gradual shift from manned to unman

programs and from lunar to planetary exploration. In July 1966, Harry Hes

Princeton geologist and chairman of the Space Science Board, enlarged on 

proposals in a letter to Webb. 3H The Board, he explained, was not prepare

question the value of a continuing national space program or of Apollo, bu

members were convinced that there would have to be changes in emphasis du

1968- 1975. Aside from repeating the proposals of the Woods Hole study, 

Board recommended "continued manned lunar exploration with Apollo hardw

but with decreasing allocation of resources toward the end of the period." T

Board was even more sceptical of the need for a manned space station in E

orbit. To be sure, not all scientists shared these views; Dr. Charles Townes, 

chairman of ST AC and recipient of the 1964 Nobel prize in physics, emphatic

disagreed, but his was increasingly a minority view outside NASA. 

The President's Science Advisory Committee (PSAC), many of whose m

bers served on NASA advisory bodies, showed the same mixture of praise 

NASA achievements, ambivalence over its program planning, and reluctanc

touch on the governance issue as the reports mentioned. In two 1 96 7 rep

PSAC carried the proposals outlined by the Space Science Board several s

further. The first, "The Space Program in the Post-Apollo Period," was rele

in February and represented the most ambitious survey.of the space program 

several years. The Joint Space Panels of PSAC proposed an elaborate but 

anced program, "based on the expectation of eventual manned planetary 

ploration."3'' In common with the earlier reports, the PSAC report stressed 

balanced program ... integrating manned and unmanned efforts ... ,"and 

252 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

"the most challenging ultimate objective for space exploration is the exploration 

by man of the nearby planets." 40 While the report endorsed several NASA 

objectives, it did so with reservations; it recommended one or two manned lunar 

expforations per year for several years as well as unmanned spacecraft "capable 

of landing significant scientific payloads anywhere on the moon." 41 But the report 

was far from enthusiastic about the conduct or results of NASA planning. In 

particular, PSAC sharply criticized the ATM-not the concept itself but the way 

that NASA proposed to realize it. The Space Science Board had said as much: 

Several Advanced Orbiting Solar Observatories "would have been an order of 

magnitude cheaper than a single Apollo Telescope Mount solar mission, and 

would have been ava~lable sooner, provided conti?uous lo~,p term obser~ing, and 

supported a substantially larger number of expenments." - The Committee also 

recommended a greater integration of manned and unmanned mission planning. 

The report of the PSAC Space Science and Technology Panel was completed 

in December but not made public. Whereas the earlier report had surveyed 

prospects for the ensuing decade, this report focused on the ensuing fiscal year. ~ 

In general, its criticisms were those of earlier PSAC and Space Science Board 

reports, although, if anything, its conclusions were even more pointed and sceptical. Beyond the governance issue, the PSAC panels and the Space Science Board 

wanted a different kind of program balance than NASA seemed able to provide. 

What did their reports have in common? First, an emphasis on the importance of 

stronger unmanned planetary programs, despite assurances by NASA that the 

agency was doing all that could be done; second, a tendency to question the value 

of Apollo Applications because it was competing with scientifically more valuable 

programs, because the role of man seemed to be inadequately justified, and 

because MOL hardware, suitably modified, could be used instead.44 Finally, the 

PSAC reports, especially, pointed to certain economies that might be achieved in 

planning space programs, such as using DOD launch vehicles and MOL hardware, using a separately launched lunar-roving vehicle as an adjunct to manned 

missions, and combining unmanned spacecraft with ground-based studies. The 

PSAC report of December 1967 was especially critical of one argument advanced 

in favor of Apollo Applications: "Operational space systems for economic benefit 

are unlikely to be manned systems." 4 " The overall effect of the reports was to cast 

doubt on the adequacy of NASA planning. 

TOWARD A POST-APOLLO NASA, SEPTEMBER 1966-0CTOBER 1968 

Since preceding chapters have described the administrative changes of 

1967-1968, very little need be added by way of summary. Most of the -important 

changes had their source either in the Apollo fire or in the budget cuts voted by 

Congress, which led to the elimination of Voyager and the reduction of Apollo 

Applications by one-third. The fire led to the headquarters reorganization of 

March 1967, to further delays in Apollo and Apollo Applications, and to the 

253 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

creation of an Office of Organization and Management under Harold Fing

a check on the presumed freedom of the program and functional offices to d

they pleased. In particular, Finger worked to revise the project authoriza

system, so that the project approval document (PAD) would become "a si

control document for each of our program activities, and would remove "from 

program offices, particularly the large project program offices, some of 

earlier flexibility to adjust funds among different projects and programs., 4

Apollo Applications, for example, there would be PADs for every financial m

agement code, one each for the orbital workshop, the Saturn IB, space

development, and the like; and each PAD would include the definition of m

subsystems, estimates of total funds for completing the job, the princ

headquarters-center program responsibilities, and identification of related PA

The reductions in NASA's budget requests also affected the nature and s

of agency planning. Webb became more determined than ever to salvage Ap

even if it meant postponing decisions about its sequel. Thus Webb hesitated to 

a definitive contract with McDonnell-Douglas for the Apollo Applications 

lock, even though both sides had fully agreed to its terms and NASA had 

option to cancel it "if the clearing u,R of uncertainties makes it unwise to pro

with the work under this contract., Moreover, the reductions in force at var

centers, particularly Marshall, also added to delays in those programs that 

been approved. Some of the effects of these losses in manpower are describe

an earlier chapter, in particular, the rise in the average age of center person

the loss of morale caused by massive reductions, and the conversions of sup

contractor personnel to civil service categories. The effects on research and l

range planning at the centers took several years to work out. The proces

adjustment is often difficult to trace, since it was the long-term result of m

small, incremental changes made by the centers and headquarters. The natu

these adjustments is touched on at the end of this chapter. 

There were, however, important developments in NASA planning that 

not yet been examined. Take, for instance, the field of launch vehicle developm

particularly as it pertained to the Titan III. As shown in chapter 8, this Air F

vehicle had become an important element in post-Apollo planning. As earl

1964, NASA and DOD had carried out a joint study to establish the feasibili

switching from the Saturn to the Titan family. In addition, the Air Force 

urged on NASA the use of Titan III for Surveyor and Voyager. In 1964-1

NASA was too deeply committed to the Saturn IB to consider switching 

unmanned payloads. But the Titan remained an increasingly attractive alterna

for unmanned programs still in the planning stage. Since 1962 NASA had stu

the Titan as a booster for unmanned payloads; in 1966 a Lewis center s

showed the value of Titan III-Centaur for future high-velocity missions, and 

that year NASA contracted with the Martin Company -for a study of T

III-Centaur integration.48 About the same time, NASA took note of the M

1966 report of the House Government Operations Committee recommendi

254 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

merger of MOL and Apollo Applications; at the Budget Bureau's request, NASA 

prepared a study to see if Apollo Applications could be designed around Titan III 

or Titan III-MOL. Predictably, NASA concluded that it could not, since its current programs were adequately supported by existing vehicles. 

Future programs were a different matter, however. Three gaps were evident. 

No vehicle except the Saturn V was capable of putting a payload of 15 000 to 

56 000 kilograms into low Earth orbit; several missions, such as a Mars-Venus 

flyby, were beyond the capacity of the Atlas-Centaur; and no current vehicle could 

resupply a large manned space station, in the event that one was built.49 In 

addition, decisions had to be made on reducing the costs and the number of launch 

vehicle types and whether to modify existing vehicles, make new combinations of 

existing stages, "or develop new vehicles for missions beyond the capability of 

existing vehicles." 50 The Saturn V was too big and expensive, while the Saturn 

IB/Centaur and the large solid-fuel motor programs had already been scratched. 

In 1967-1968 NASA conducted a number of studies, including two joint studies 

with DOD, to establish its mission requirements for the next decade. In particular, a 1968 joint "economy study" recommended the Titan IIID-Centaur, a new 

combination of existing stages, as the most promising vehicle for future missions. 

In February 1969 NASA and DOD reached informal agreement on cooperating 

in the future development of the Titan III. NASA would be in charge of integrating the Titan IIID w~th the Centaur, would procure standard Titan equipment 

through the Air Force, and would handle the technical direction of Titan IIIDCentaur launch operations.* 51 

Another area of concern to NASA was aeronautical research. Although funding for aeronautical R&D steadily rose from 1963, it remained an insignificant 

fraction of the NASA budget-in 1968 a little over 2 percent. Yet the importance 

of planning aeronautical research was quite out of proportion to the amount spent 

on aeronautics programs. NASA had come under considerable pressure from 

Congress to spend more on aeronautics dating from a 1966 report of the Senate 

Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, which had recommended a consolidated Federal aeronautics budget.52 The problem for NASA was to integrate 

aeronautical R&D with its other programs and to find the right organizational 

location for aeronautics. For many reasons, NASA continued to need an aeronautics program, one not separable from its other activities. Aeronautics remained 

essential to NASA programming. Most of the center directors and many headquarters officials had spent part of their careers in aeronautical research for 

NACA/NASA. At centers like Langley and Ames it was not possible to separate 

physically the different facilities for aeronautical and space R&D. NASA support 

and NASA facilities were highly valued by DOD and FAA. And hybrid programs 

like the X-15, the wingless lifting body, and the space shuttle marked the convergence of aeronautical and space technology. As NASA moved in the early 1970s 

*Production of the Saturn IB and Saturn V had already been suspended in the fall of 1967. 

255 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

from Apollo Applications to the space shuttle, the experience gained in ae

nautical research and testing became an exceedingly valuable asset in the cond

of the spaceprogram. In the early 1970s NASA management also decided that 

best way to upgrade aeronautics was to strengthen it within an existing prog

office, such as the Office of Advanced Research and Technology (OART), rat

than establish a separate "Office of Aeronautics." Had NASA established 

aeronautics office separate from its own field centers, the office would have b

"an external competitor for work in 'OART centers,"' and would have ended 

weaker rather than stronger.53 And it was not practic<tl to separate one OA

center to report to a new aeronautics office since none of the OAR T installatio

except for the very small Flight Research Center, was devoted exclusively 

aeronautics. 

Early in 1968 NASA made a fresh start in long-range planning. In Janu

Webb appointed Floyd Thompson, the Director of Langley, to chair a task fo

to recommend a program for the post-Apollo period. 54 At the end of Janu

Webb named Thomas 0. Paine, the director of General Electric's think t

TEMPO, to succeed Seamans as Deputy Administrator. In March Newell, w

had moved up to become Associate Administrator the previous September, re

ganized the planning groups set up some two years before. The Planning Coo

nation Steering Group became the Planning Steering Group (PSG) chaired 

Newell and consisting of Wyatt, the deputy directors of the program offices, 

the center directors. The working groups, increased from five to twelve, w

assigned the job of drafting "Planning Source Documents," which were to se

as the basis of the program memorandums required by the Bureau of the Bud

as a source of material for project approval documents, and as the raw mater

of long-range planning. In addition, a separate Planning Coordination Gr

(PCG) of headquarters planning officials was created under Arnold Frutkin, 

Assistant Administrator for International Affairs, to guide the working gro

and to submit their planning source documents to PSG for review. 55 To c

plement the reports of the working groups, the PCG would draw on institutio

working groups for analyses of the organizational elements in planning: 

balance of in-house and contractor work, the effect of new programs on ce

operations, and the like. 5r' This was clearly a more ambitious planning pro

than the one-shot Future Programs Task Group of 1964-1965. The objectiv

the new planning system was to break down the parochialism that divided he

quarters from the centers and, by bringing key NASA officials together, 

develop significant alternative program possibilities so that managem

decisions ... can be .. . effectively determined." 57 Given the decentralized 

ture of NASA policy making, this was asking a great deal of agency offic

Moreover, the new planning system aimed at replacing the general mana

concept, under which Seamans had been responsible for all project approvals 

for monthly reviews of the status of these projects, with group management. T

was the rationale for the establishment of a Management Council in Janu

1968, to which the PSG would report, and for replacing the program reviews 

256 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

each program office held for the Deputy Administrator with a general management review before the Management Council. 

The planning reforms were intended to reverse some of the byproducts of a 

decade of decentralized management. But to put the matter thus hardly accounts 

for the comparative failure of PSG/PCG to plan successfully. One has to know 

what the system was not before one can evaluate it. PSG/PCG did not present 

the Administrator, Congress, or the Bureau of the Budget with a single authoritative NASA program. Rather, it offered three authorized NASA planning 

groups. In 1968 there were more than a dozen ad hoc and standing advisory and 

planning groups, most of which had no formal connection at all with the PCG. 5H 

Two that did, Bellcomm and the Mission Analysis Division at Ames, remained 

distinct and apart. Bellcomm, in s~articular, became a sort .of in-hous~ ~;>lan.ning 

staff attached to Mueller's office: By 1968 Bellcomm officials were s1ttmg m as 

observers at meetings; indeed, Bellcomm was commissioned by ST AC to prepare 

a study on the uses of man in space.w Within the NASA organization there was 

as much competition as cooperation in drafting a long-range plan. 

Three additional problems impeded center-headquarters cooperation. Except for PCG, which consisted of headquarters planning officials, all the members 

of PSG and the working groups participated part-time. Second, the process itself 

was, or became, exceedingly complex; aside from the standing committees reporting to Frutkin and Newell, there was a special studies group within the PCG and 

a "synthesis" group of top headquarters officials within the PSG. The nomenclature and the process it tried to describe were both cumbersome, and early in 

1969 the system was revamped and streamlined. Finally, Newell, Frutkin, and the 

chairmen of the working groups hesitated before two quite different courses. They 

could outline the programs they considered intrinsically desirable at whatever 

cost, or they could anticipate the sort of budget that the Executive Office and 

Congress would accept and design programs that could be managed within the 

lower budgets of the 1970s. Given the political atmosphere during the last two 

years of the Johnson administration, the problem, it turned out, was for NASA 

to keep what it already had rather than to make a completely fresh start. 

THE END OF A DECADE-REPORT OF THE PRESIDENT'S 

SPACE TASK GROUP, OCTOBER 1968-0CTOBER 1969 

At a White House press conference on 16 September 1968, James Webb 

announced his resignation as NASA Administrator, effective 7 October, his 62d 

birthday. After nearly eight years directing the space program, he was leaving to 

pursue interests in education and urban affairs and also to smooth the transition 

to the next administration.* As President, Nixon would certainly want his own 

• Another version of the circumstances behind Webb's resignation is heard inside NASA. In a meeting with 

the President, he sought to restore various budget cuts and threatened to resign unless he had his way. At 

this, Johnson called in the White House press corps to announce that Mr. Webb had something to say, whereupon Webb announced that he was leaving NASA. 

257 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

man; Humphrey would necessarily want someone else as well. Webb left 

agency at a time when NASA was making measurable progress toward the lu

landing but with few approved programs beyond it and with the design of Ap

Applications still in doubt. Webb's prognosis for the space program was alm

grim: 

I am not satisfied with the program. I am not satisfied that we as a nation have not been ab

to go forward to achieve a first position in space. What this really means is that we are goin

to be in second position for some time to come.

6 1 

In the summer of 1968 Apollo Applications was more than a year be

schedule, owing to cuts made by Congress-the authorized $253 million 

eventually reduced to $150 million-and to the reprogramming of funds f

Apollo Applications to Apollo. Reporting in July, the Thompson comm

endorsed the concept of Apollo Applications but expressed serious reservat

about its design that ranged from the planning of experiments to the absenc

backup hardware to the "questionable nature" of the ATM experiment.62 We

departure made a complex situation even more complicated. First as Ac

Administrator and then, from March 1969, as Administrator, Pain~'s view 

long-range planning was very different from Webb's. Paine wanted an ambit

post-Apollo program, specifically one that included a program of manned lu

exploration after the first landing; and he believed that a large, long-dura

space station-something talked about but not acted on in NASA for almo

decade-must be on the agenda. 

Between October 1968 and June 1969 the NASA planning appar

creaked into gear. To describe even briefly the plans and task force studies o

next year would take the discussion too far afield. Suffice it to say that Paine w

far beyond Webb in planning for the future, undeterred by the prac

difficulties in getting the White House to make funding available. He emph

ally endorsed Mueller and Townes' proposal for extended manned explora

and even went beyond them. In December 1968 President-eJect Nixon appoi

Townes to chair a special task force to consider the space program over the 

two decades. The Townes report, which was not released by the White House

in fact call for a vigorous, multifaceted program, although it disapproved of 

commitment to a large orbiting space station.6 ' Paine impatiently dismissed w

he saw as the report's aversion to the word "commitment"; those who had dra

it, including Seamans, did not wish to "commit" the nation to anything. To 

Paine replied that while he could understand the reluctance to. make com

ments, he could not sympathize with it. The great value of Apollo was that it "g

more meaning to the space program because people identify more readily w

men than with machines." And he continued: 

We have been frustrated too long by a negativism that says hold back, be cautious, take n

risks, do less than you are capable of doing. I submit that no perceptive student of the histo

of social progress doubts that we will establish a large laboratory in earth orbit, that we w

258 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

provide a practical system for the frequent transfer of men and supplies to and from such a 

laboratory, that we will continue to send men to the Moon, and that eventually we will send 

men to the planets. If this is true, now is the time to say so . ... We in NASA are fully 

conscious of practical limitations. . . . In the light of these considerations, we can be sensible 

and moderate about our requests for resources-but we must know where we are going. •• 

By early 1969 two groups in addition to PSG were weaving the fabric of 

NASA planning. Paine was meeting with his program and center directors to 

draft a specific plan for a follow-on to the first lunar landing, which was scheduled 

for July. Mueller and his staff, assisted by Bellcomm, were preparing their 

version of the shape of things to come. They had one great advantage over the 

members of PSG and its working groups: they knew (or thought they knew) where 

they were going. Mueller wanted both the space station and a low-c_ost transportation system. He saw the station as a logical and necessary step in a national 

space program, as a way station to the moon, as practice for planetary missions, 

and a step in reduction in the costs of space operations."c'5 The transportation 

system would have all the virtues of economy, plus the added virtue of changing 

the role of ground support from one of "being . . . the senior partner in the 

operation into a truly supporting role where it handles those things that require 

external coordination rather than internal operations." 66 

Almost as soon as Paine became Acting Administrator, he endorsed Mueller's plan for an orbital space station. In May 1969 Paine set up two task forces: 

one, headed by Charles Mathews, Mueller's deputy, to examine the concept of a 

manned space station in permanent Earth orbit; the other, headed by Mueller, to 

study the space shuttle, a low-cost transportation system for supplying the space 

station. Then on 22 July, two days after the Apollo 11 landing, Mueller announced that NASA was switching from a "wet" to a "dry" workshop, that is, an 

unfueled S- IVB outfitted on the ground and launched by a Saturn V. There were 

several reasons for this change: the cancelation for budgetary reasons of MOL on 

10 June, which ended the debate over wasteful duplication; the knowledge of 

OMSF officials that Saturn Vs would be available for Apollo Applications after 

the lunar landing; finally, the conclusion of Mueller that, with the cuts in the 1970 

budget, NASA would no longer be able to support the wet workshop schedule 

with the funds available.67 As one official put it, . 

We decided that we had no choice .. . . Obviously the Saturn-5 costs will be in excess of the 

Saturn IB costs. But you will see the program that we have here is one that predicates a space 

station and space tug coming up together ... . one of the forcing functions, in addition to the 

a 

dollars, was the fact that the weight of the workshop had been growing with time .. .. It is 

good illustration of what happens when you put a program in a holding pattern .. . . And 

we have just recently gone out ~f that holding pattern and are now hopeful that we will get 

approval to go forward with this dry workshop and to move out and finish the job. 68 

· All this time Newell had been trying to persuade headquarters and center 

officials to produce a long-range plan. What had been the "Synthesis Group" of 

259 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

the previous planning cycle became the Planning Steering Group; what wen

that name in 1968 was now the Planning Review Committee and included 

program and center directors; while the working groups, renamed planning p

els, were "to guide the planning activity" but "not attempt to do all the plan

within an assigned category." 69 The flaws in the earlier planning structure 

repeated themselves in 1969. There was the same inability of PSG to repre

itself as spokesman for the entire agency, the same lack of adequate staff supp

and apparently the conviction of some inembers of the planning panels 

drafting an integrated plan was a futile exercise. 

These difficulties were compounded by the unchecked decline in the NA

budget and by President Nixon's establishment in February 1969 of a Space T

Group (STG) to draft an overall plan for the next decade of the U.S. s

program. The STG, chaired by Vice President Spiro Agnew, included Ro

Seamans, who became Secretary of the Air Force that February; Thomas Pa

and Lee DuBridge, the President's Science Advisor. The existence of a high-l

task force outside NASA meant that internal NASA planning would be 

mostly in terms of what that task force found acceptable. In effect, planning wi

the agency proceeded along paths that alternately converged and moved ap

The various planning groups were drafting . programs that were intrinsic

desirable for NASA; they were thinking in terms of programs that were like

be approved given current and projected funding levels; and they assembled 

kind of program that could be sold to the STG. In the end, the STG represe

a partial victory of the views of Paine and Mueller. 70 In its September 1969 re

to the President, the STG recommended a balanced program of manned 

unmanned space exploration and singled out as a primary goal a manned M

mission before the end of the century. This, it will be recalled, had been Muel

proposal for a long-term objective to succeed Apollo; but the idea had rema

dormant virtually until the launch of Apollo 11, when Vice President Agnew 

advanced what he called "a simple, ambitious, optimistic goal." 71 This wa

that Mueller, von Braun, and Paine had needed and this goal, expanded in

plan of impressive scope, became the cornerstone of the STG report. 

In addition, the STG sketched three possible NASA programs at t

different funding levels: 

1. A manned Mars mission by the mid-1980s; an orbiting lunar statio

fifty-man Earth-orbiting space base. Funding would rise from $4 billio

FY 1970 to $8-$10 billion in 1980.72 

2. Mars mission in 1986; $8 billion maximum in early 1980s. 

3. Initial development of space station and reusable shuttles, as in the first 

options, but deferral of decision on Mars landing date, while maintai

goal of a landing at some point after 1980 but before the end of the cen

The concurrent development of the shuttle and the space station would 

for a rise to $5.7 billion in spending by 1976; if they were developed seri

funding would rise to $4-$5 billion. 

260 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

For all the boldness of its planning, the STG had no power to commit the 

nation to anything. It was merely a statement of alternatives, like the NASA 

reports to the STG or the various PSAC and Space Science Board reports of 

1965-1967; and it pointedly avoided setting a specific date for a manned mission 

to Mars. In the event, it was as much as Paine could do to hold on to what the 

agency already had. Throughout 1969 NASA continued to lay off employees at 

the centers, and at the end of the year Paine announced the closing of the 

Electronics Research Center, even as work on the unfinished $60 million complex 

proceeded. By that time it was becoming apparent that, as one journalist wrote, 

there would be "no set goal for landing men on Mars, no plan to colonize the moon 

and no sudden push to orbit a permanent manned space station above the earth 

in the next five years." 71 The most ambitious goals of the STG report were tacitly 

dropped; Nixon's message of 7 March 1970, which was an endorsement of the 

third and least expensive of the STG options, made no mention of a Mars landing. 

The result of four years of studies and long-range planning was one "dry" orbital 

workshop launched in May 1973, four years behind schedule; three "visits" to the 

workshop by astronaut crews; and the commitment by President Nixon in January 1972 that a reusable space shuttle would be built. Strictly speaking, there 

was no post-Apollo space program. Instead, there were discrete programs, some 

of which, like the shuttle and Skylab, were what NASA managed to salvage from 

the manned programs of the 1960s. 

THE ADEQUACY OF NASA PLANNING-INSTITUTIONAL CONSIDERATIONS 

A summary account of NASA planning brings out its extreme complexity, 

the mixture of technical and administrative considerations that guided it, and the 

inability of NASA planners to design a plan around which the entire agency could 

rally. This concluding section concentrates on three aspects of NASA planning: 

how and by whom it was done, how well it succeeded, and the rather puzzling lack 

of attention paid by NASA officials to the administrative consequences of substantive programs. 

Recall that in the 1960s there were at least four planning cycles, the last two 

of which overlapped. In the early 1960s NASA prepared and then dropped a 

formal long-range plan. This was followed by the Future Programs Task Group 

of 1964-1965, the various special studies and task forces directed by OMSF and 

OSSA, and the PSG /PCG planning exercises of 1968-1969. Having said this, 

were there any features common to all of NASA planning? The evidence suggests 

there were. NASA planning was additive rather than synthetic; that is, every 

agency plan tended to be the sum of its parts, not an integrated whole. Most 

planning, and almost all that mattered, was carried out by the centers and program offices, not by headquarters staff offices reporting to the Administrator. 

There was a persistent tension in the plans drafted by the program offices and 

agency task forces between the technically feasible and the politically acceptable. 

261 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

No plan had any chance of success until it was acceptable to the NASA Adm

istrator, the Congress, and the White House. Lacking a rigorous analysis of 

costs and benefits of each plan, NASA officials below the level of the Office of 

Administrator relied on the technically feasible. And "feasibility" means only t

something is possible, not that the method or program is the most effective mea

of accomplishing a given end. As shown, even the OMSF center directors w

sceptical of the design of the A TM and its location on the lunar module. 

What complicated the job of planning was the confusion between an "in

grated" and a "balanced" program in the various reports and studies dealing w

post-Apollo planning. The latter term was almost always used by those w

attacked, as well as those who defended, NASA policy. The Space Science Boa

PSAC, the Space Task Group, and the Townes committee all believed that w

they proposed struck the proper balance between manned and unmanned p

grams, or lunar-planetary exploration and Earth-orbital applications satellit

Yet Webb, at least, was prepared to argue that NASA already had a balanc

program within the funding authorized. The concept of a balanced program h

meaning only in terms of some uniform standard to which all could refer a

lacking which, could be used to advocate whatever some official or advisory bo

considered desirable. 

In theory, an integrated plan could be defined as the "framework that wo

meld many separate program elements into a coherent whole." 74 Interpreted t

way, the term was ambiguous. All too often, NASA officials tended to confu

means with ends; the space station was treated as a "mission" when it was o

a "capability." In an agency that was no longer organized around one overrid

mission, the proposal to design an unmanned interplanetary probe could 

regarded from two quite different viewpoints: either as preliminary to a mann

mission, or as an end in itself. The difficulties in drafting an integrated plan w

part of the failure to consider what such· a plan would imply for the organizat

and management of NASA. For the moment, one might distinguish between 

short- and long-term difficulties of drafting such a plan. At the end of the 19

planning cycle, Newell wrote a report to serve as a kind of balance sheet of 

strengths and weaknesses of NASA planning. He was remarkably frank about 

difficulties of getting all the agency divisions to participate. He noted that th

was not enough center participation; that the scope of the planning task, added 

other responsibilities, had overworked many line officials; that some (unname

persons could not separate their roles as heads of centers and operating divisio

from their agencywide responsibilities within PSG; finally, that fundamen

conflicts over program priorities between OSSA and OMSF had been aggrava

by impending budgetary cutbacks.7 " None of this should have been surprisin

The decentralized structure of NASA was designed to carry out the Apo

mission, but it was not calculated to lead to integrated planning. Precisely beca

manned spaceflight took so large a portion of the agency's. budget and manpow

planning tended to be mostly in terms of devising a sequel to Apollo or moving 

far from it as possible. It is also worth noting that the very same problems t

262 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

Newell cited in getting the centers and headquarters to work together had been 

anticipated in the problems that OMSF had working with its operating divisions. 

What Seamans singled out as the chief faults in OMSF planning in the summer 

of 1967 were virtually identical to those discussed by Newell over two years later: 

The apparent absence of an agreed upon base underlying estimates and assumptions; the 

overly centralized direction to planning that forbids candid review and analysis of meaningful 

alternatives by providing only one program view for consideration; and an apparent lack of 

Center participation in the key elements of the planning process that deal with program 

objectives and realistic possibilities of contributing to their achievement. Above all, there 

appears to be a lack of candid communication within OMSF and between OMSF and other 

organizational elements of NASA that frustrates the possibility of developing and implementing the best total Agency program under the varying conditions that we must face.76 

It was this lack of communication between agency divisions that made the 

long-term success of any planning exercise doubtful. In addition, there was no 

authoritative voice to speak for the agency. PSG and its panels might have evolved 

into a kind of standing committee for agency planning, but, before this happened, 

their role was preempted by OMSF assisted by Bellcomm. There is also evidence 

that some officials would not or perhaps could not put all their cards on the table. 

Adequate planning requires that the planners be kept fully informed about the 

organization's resources. But, as Newell observed, 

We found that some of the centers would not discuss the question of their staffing because they 

were afraid that if they indicated that they could take on a new project that they wanted to 

get, the availability of people would be signalled for headquarters to take those people away 

and put them somewhere else.77 

The attitude of "we have nothing to gain by speaking up" meant, almost inevitably, that a proposal presented by a working group "had more certainties than 

challenges; each element could be shown to be feasible in terms of projected time 

and effort, but the total effect in terms of forward motion was pedestrian, even 

timid." 78 · 

Perhaps one can account for the failure of NASA planning by asking what 

an integrated plan would have involved. A successful plan would have related 

three pairs of variables: aeronautics to space technology, the rationale for unmanned systems to that for manned systems, and substantive programs to institutional changes. Nothing is more striking than the failure of the working groups 

or the Institutional Working Group of 1968 to recommend changes at the centers 

or changes in the relations between centers and headquarters that would have 

accompanied the programs they advocated. In essence, the NASA organization of 

1969-1970 was almost unchanged from that of November 1963. The reader may 

object that this is putting the cart before the horse and that there could be no 

agreement on organizatiOn in the absence of agreement on programs. It is true that 

the 1961 reorganization succeeded the lunar landing decision. But the situation in 

1968- 1969 was fundamentally different in two respects: the agency no longer had 

263 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

an overriding mission comparable to Apollo, and in a period of declining bud

the agency needed flexibility to adjust to changes. In fact, the phasedown of Ap

had raised questions that were basically administrative. What should be 

division between advanced research and development at the centers? Should 

center "belong" to a designated program office, or should emphasis on c

servicing become more common? Should responsibility for applications rem

with OSSA, be assigned to a separate program office, or be diffused throug

the agency? Should NASA maintain a separate Office of University Affairs 

spite the virtual demise of NASA support for university research? How sh

NASA avoid excessive dependence of DOD support? 79 In the area of manpo

planning alone, some questions could not wait for new programs before they w

resolved, questions such as the following: Should work be moved from centers 

had too much to centers that had too little? Was there any way of defi

"wasteful duplication" in a way that would eliminate unnecessary, overlap

facilities at the centers? And how could NASA best maintain its in-house c

petence and promote employees with management skills to more respon

positions? 

In 1968-1969 no key official dared to discuss publicly the organizati

shifts that a post-Apollo program would entail, although task forces like the 

that wrote the 1966 Hjornevik report had already done some of the neces

thinking. Organizational structure does matter, even if it only ratifies po

relations that already exist. The restructuring of center-headquarters rela

was potentially the most explosive issue facing NASA management. A m

reorganization could easily have torn NASA apart, since almost certainly it w

have meant that some centers would have gained at the expense of others. 

Although no official discussed the scope of organizational change public

few had ideas on what NASA ought to become. Mueller, for instance, prop

a restructuring of NASA that would have left the agency, in organizational te

where it had been before 1961.80 He proposed a' stricter demarcation betw

research centers like Langley, development centers like Marshall, and operati

centers like KSC. In view of the availability of manpower at JPL and Mars

he suggested the transfer of development projects to these installations. He w

further in advocating clearer statements of roles and missions for the centers

withdrawal of research centers from project management, the separation o

search functions from development and contract administration at the rese

laboratories, the creation of a separate headquarters office to manage projects 

they became "operational," and the delegation of responsibility for planning t

program offices, with a separate policy staff for general guidance. Finally

urged that officials recognize that NASA's competence was in applied, not b

research and that NASA should rely on universities for the .latter. In e

Mueller proposed a radical simplification of the NASA .organization at a 

when there was no consensus on a post-Apollo organization. Some of his 

posals, like the one for an "Office of Operations," were workable. As one of

observed at the end of 1969, 

264 
NASA'S LONG-RANGE PLANNING, 1964-1969 

At some point .. . we will be faced with the need for 24-hour-a-day, 365-day-a-year operations with several manned and unmanned space vehicles in operation at the same time. This 

will mean greatly expanding and integrating launch and mission control capability on one 

hand, and simplifying and cost cutting of systems on the other . 

. . . At some point we will need to give serious consideration to a total operations organization 

here in Headquarters to manage an agency-wide operations program.81 

On the other hand, an attempt to work out a strict division of labor between the 

centers would have been fraught with risk, especially if a center's original reason 

for being should end. Also, as shown, some of the older NACA centers like 

Langley welcomed the assignment of flight p'rojects because development work 

generated new research problems for the center's laboratories. The truth seems to 

be that no center could survive simply as a job shop. As Marshall officials 

explained to the Hjornevik task force, 

A Center must have a central role and mission around which it builds its competence and 

achieves its place in the world. 

With a central role and mission firmly established and operating, a Center can take on related 

activities to fill in peaks and valleys in its workload, even working for other Centers, if 

necessary. 

82 

In 1969 the issue of the reorganization of NASA was simply too divisive to be 

raised. Yet changes in organization had to accompany-and in some cases were 

a precondition for-a functioning agency. 

In sum, NASA failed to produce an integrated plan, either as a future course 

of action or as a means of adjusting to the actual funding levels authorized by 

Congress. Yet there is evidence that a few centers were able to plan successfully, 

even in the absence of guidance from headquarters or knowledge by top management"that anything out of the ordinary was happening.H~ The evidence is fragmentary; successful planning at Goddard or Langley was not part of any agencywide 

plan, was as much a response to the logic of current programs as it was to funding 

cutbacks, and has to be inferred from scattered documents. At a center like 

Goddard, which had eighteen ongoing projects in 1971, the emphasis was on 

plotting manpower requirements in order to maintain balance between the 

projects. All NASA center directors- had broad discretionary powers; a director 

had the authority to control personnel assignments, to ask for more people if 

necessary, and to reprogram funds from one research task area to another within 

the same research subprogram. This flexibility is the key to understanding how 

a center like Goddard could cope with its responsibilities for developing unmanned Earth-orbital satellites, for managing NASA's data-reduction network, 

and for dealing with the growth and complexity of a new generation of spacecraft. 

As an example, consider the growth in complexity of the Orbiting Solar Observatories (OSO), the first of which was launched in 1962. By 1971 the OSO had 

evolved into a very large, very complicated orbiting laboratory: It had more than 

tripled in total weight, had greatly increased its relative pointing accuracy, and 

returned a much larger volume of data. As one center official remarked, 

265 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Scientists no longer are satisfied with a static experiment and wish to perform as dynamic a

experiment as possible. For example, the first OSO's were capable of only photographing th

entire solar disk. Now the scientists want to examine specific portions of the solar disk 

interest to them.

84 

Center management developed the ability to move employees from one proje

another, to prevent an imbalance in the mix of skills at the centers, and to red

or eliminate manpower in areas that no longer demanded top priority. This 

not so much planning in the PSG sense, as it was adaptation to a tight bud

stricter personnel ceilings, and the perceived need (as·of 1971) for a new in-ho

flight project that would have to be managed within the resources available. 

that Goddard's experience could be repeated elsewhere; the center was unique 

its mbcture of large and small flight projects, the coordination of science 

engineering disciplines with those responsible for managing NASA tracking 

works, and the ability of its project managers to perform in-house work that o

centers usually contracted out. But it was precisely this kind of restructurin

the field level that represented the most successful planning within NASA a

end of the 1960s. 

266 
Chapter 10 

Summary Conclusions 

T he leading premise of this book is that NASA was (and is) an organization, 

not a specific mission. The space agency was created two-and-a-half years 

before President Kennedy made the decision to commit the United States to a 

lunar landing, and it was still in business the day after Neil Armstrong and Buzz 

Aldrin touched down in the Sea of Tranquillity. Once one concedes that Apollo 

marked a rare convergence of technology and political support, one is still as far 

as ever from knowing the institutional elements that were characteristic of the 

space program and that would persist beyond Apollo. NASA's remarkable success 

in managing its programs depended on the ability of the agency's top officials to 

enunciate goals, to maintain good relations with the White House and Congress, 

to shape the agency from within, and to delegate to the program offices and centers 

the authority they needed to get the job done. 

In 1961 NASA was a new organization in a state of flux. When Webb and 

Seamans appeared on the scene, NASA was a loosely structured agency whose 

field centers worked in relative isolation from each other and from headquarters. 

The lunar landing mission demanded much greater coordination-and for the 

time being, greater centralization-than had been the case. One of the most 

important aspects of the Apollo program was the speed with which the crucial 

administrative and program decisions were made and the major prime contracts 

awarded. Except for the decision to go to all-up testing, the major Apollo program 

decisions were made between August 1961 and July 1962. Had they been 

stretched over a longer period, it seems unlikely that they would have received the 

support that they did. A comparison between the establishment of the Manned 

Spacecraft Center (MSC) and the Electronics Research Center (ERC) brings this 

out. NASA announced the selection of Houston as the MSC site after a brief 

survey. Yet the creation of the center generated powerful political support; the site 

itself was well located in relation to Michoud, Marshall, and the Cape; and the 

reasons given for establishing a new center were justified in relation to the Apollo 

267 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

mission. In contrast, almost two years elapsed between the decision to establ

ERC and its formal establishment. There was no such consensus as existed 

case of M;SC; NASA could not convince Congress or the public that a cap

in electronics research was as vital to the agency as one to develop the 

spacecraft. The point is that the agency's top officials made the importan

sions while there was time to do so. The 1961 reorganization had to be re

two years later, but it gave NASA management the opportunity to bri

centers under tighter control than before. 

Another element in the success of the NASA organization was flex

flexibility for the Administrator to appoint to excepted positions, to award 

R&D contracts without competitive bidding, to reprogram within approp

accounts and to transfer between them, to devise and administer a custom-t

entrance examination, and the like. Examples such as these represent flex

within the system, not a departure from it; variances from the norm were a

by Congress, the Bureau of the Budget, and the Civil Service Commission

flexibility allowed for that "free play of the joints" without which instit

rigor mortis sets in. The use of excepted positions, for example, served no

to retain employees within the organization but also to bring in new blood 

expose NASA to outside influences. Similarly, without the authority to ne

major contracts noncompetitively, it is unlikely that the lunar landing woul

occurred on schedule. Indeed, this authority was probably more import

NASA than the introduction of incentive provisions in 1962. As shown, inc

were difficult to administer: they required a great deal of manpower and 

work, the criteria for incentive payments were hard to pin down, and 

tradiction was inherent in fixing targets for changing programs. NASA m

ment might well have awarded development contracts without adding in

provisions. But it is hard to imagine Gemini, Apollo, or Nimbus becoming 

ational had the agency been bound by competitive bidding or other rule

would have constrained its ability to choose its sources. The Apollo engin

support contracts were good examples of the agency's freedom in this respec

TIE contract began as a letter contract and so remained for over a year

NASA and Boeing negotiated the definitive terms. In this and other cas

flexibility available to NASA depended on congressional willingness to t

practices that the legislature might have disallowed elsewhere. 

Similar flexibility extended to other sectors. In the period und

vestigation, NASA had no formal, agencywide, long-range plan; no genera

sory committee, such as the one established for the Atomic Energy Comm

no inspector-general, chief scientist, or chief engineer; no directorate for ma

launch support and tracking and data acquisition together; no central pl

staff attached to the Office of the Administrator. Webb explicitly reje

proposal to create a general advisory committee of outside scientists. He and 

NASA officials also opposed a congressional bill to create an 'Inspector o

grams and Operations" for NASA because the legislation would have in

assigning an already limited number of personnel to another overhead fu

268 
SUMMARY CONCLUSIONS 

and would have created a suspicion among NASA engineers that their independence was being restricted. Also, senior officials were understandably reluctant to 

have people looking over their shoulders and questioning their programs. These 

functions were handled in other ways. Moreover, the absence of a plan or general 

advisory committee rescued the agency from becoming captive to policies that 

might cease to be relevant. 

To maintain flexibility and to adapt the agency to change, reorganizations 

were frequent: in 1961, 1963, 1965, and 1967. This policy of calculated change 

had two purposes. Top management was unwilling to be rigidly bound by its own 

past policies. More important, each reorganization went beyond simple 

corrections-to improve communications between decision making and supporting staff or to free the centers from unneeded supervision-but was designed to 

turn the agency around from one set of programs to those of a quite different sort. 

NASA was vulnerable: first, because it had to stake its claim to territory of its own, 

rather than becoming (as its predecessor agency, the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, had become) a supporting arm of the military services or a 

supervisory agency with a small in-house staff and contractor-operated facilities, 

like the Atomic Energy Commission; second, because, as Raymond Bauer and 

others have noted, the civilian space program is discretionary. "We do not need 

to do it, in the same imperative sense that we believe we need to be militarily 

armed." 1 NASA's vulnerability was accentuated by the special oversight exercised 

by Congress. NASA had to obtain authorizing legislation before appropriations 

could be voted, keep the congressional committees "fully and completely informed" of pending action, and "come into agreement" with the legislative committees for certain kinds of reprogramming.2 During the 1960s top NASA officials 

had to be ready to change when change was imperative and to refuse to accept 

organizational forms as important beyond the goals they might serve. 

NASA managers saw their responsibilities in political terms and took it upon 

themselves to justify NASA where it mattered most: to the President, to the 

Bureau of the Budget, whose fiscal authorities set the terms of the annual budget 

request, and to Congress, which had the power to modify that request. What 

Sapolsky has said about Polaris surely applies here: 

Competitors had to be eliminated; reviewing agencies had to be outmaneuvered; 

congressmen ... newspapermen and academicians had to be co-opted. Politics is a systemic 

requirement. ·what distinguishes programs in government is not that some play politics and 

others do not, but, rather, that some are better at it than others.3 

NASA would describe a goal within the broader mission: put a communications 

satellite in synchronous orbit, or develop a manned spacecraft to soft-land on the 

Moon and a vehicle with liquid-hydrogen upper stages to launch it. But actual 

development involved far more than the finding that the job could be done. The 

technical problems-say, of negotiating the prime contracts or fitting schedules to 

costs-had political dimensions, owing to the requirement that NASA submit its 

programs to Congress for annual authorization. Also, important development 

269 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

concepts would receive very little support either from Congress or the use

munity unless they could be shown to work. Thus NASA had to choose be

pursuing its own programs or "seeking development funding without havi

backing of other agencies who [might] well utilize the emerging capabi

time." 4 

Previous chapters have enumerated case after case in which NASA as

its organizational independence, in no case more so than its relations w

military. The history of NASA from its establishment to 1963 can be cha

terms of NASA's ability to design its programs, procure its hardware, and s

its spacecraft without overt interference from the military. The transfer o

and the von Braun team to NASA, the Webb-Gilpatric memorandum of 

standing, President Kennedy's decision to assign the lunar mission to a c

agency, and the Gemini agreement represent stages by which NASA asser

determination to run the agency as its officials considered necessary. Not th

lations between NASA and DOD can be easily categorized. Although cha

classifies them as support, coordination, and rivalry, some programs did 

neatly into any category; others, like Gemini, tended to become joint pro

over time; while a program like MOL was in some ways competitive with A

although the former relied heavily on NASA technology and ground su

Nevertheless, without a strong assertion of independence, NASA would ha

come what the services anticipated on the eve of the Space Act-a research 

supporting military projects. 

The political strategies of NASA management were fourfold: to ma

NASA's independent status as an R&D agency; to curb outside interfere

advisory and coordinating groups; to seek the approval of Congress for me

that the agency was about to take; and to limit NASA's support for other ag

the better to concentrate its resources on Gemini and Apollo. NASA's re

with DOD are an example of the first type of strategy; its conflicts with P

the Ramsey committee, and the Lunar and Planetary Missions Board are 

ples of the second; chapter 7 lists cases where NASA responded to the m

Congress; while NASA's position on the supersonic transport reflects Web

Dryden's desire not to strain NASA's resources to the limit. In addition, 

dismantled the headquarters office that prepared the NASA Long-Range 

precisely to avoid premature commitment to projects beyond Apollo. 

The account of NASA's relation with its advisory committees illu

Webb's reasons for denying outside scientists the role they demanded. In rej

the Ramsey committee's proposal for a general advisory committee, he 

specifically because such a committee would have fettered his power to r

agency and to defend the President's budget. In NASA, the advisory p

worked effectively in designing experimental payloads or selecting princip

vestigators. Within rather narrow limits, advisory groups could do even mor

the Astronomy Missions Board, established in November 1967, proposed 

became the High Energy Astronomy Observatory and may have saved the 

Telescope Mount when NASA officials were seriously considering its c

270 
SUMMARY CONCLUSIONS 

ation.5 But the Lunar and Planetary Missions Board and the Astronomy Missions 

Board, the principal attempts to create parallel advisory bodies for "strategic" 

scientific planning, were short lived. There were other flaws in the advisory 

process: the overlapping of jurisdictions, the lack of standard operating procedure, 

and the infrequent meetings of such groups as the Space Science Board. Yet it 

seems clear that the comparatively ineffective role of the missions boards owed 

something to management's reluctance to give their members the responsibilities 

they had come to expect. In general, then, NASA management was exceedingly 

wary of delegating authority to outside advisory groups. 

As has been noted, NASA was remarkably decentralized for so large an 

agency. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that programs such as Apollo 

or the Orbiting Observatories could not have been managed without the delegation 

of authority to the centers and JPL: authority to negotiate contracts up to a 

specified amount, to transfer funds between programs, to start new research tasks 

without seeking specific authorization, to shift manpower from one division to 

another, and so on. The strategy of senior management was to give the centers 

what they needed to get the job done but not so much that their work would lose 

its relevance to the agency's mission. During the 1960s the "research" and the 

"development" centers tended to become more like each other; centers reporting 

to one program office began to work for others; while those centers with a mixture 

of projects weathered the budget cuts at the end of the decade better than those 

with one or two large development programs that were phasing down. One of the 

most important byproducts of Apollo was the pressure it placed ·on the older 

centers to enter into development work, as with Langley's management of Lunar 

Orbiter, Lewis' of Centaur, and Ames' of Pioneer and Biosatellite. It was not so 

much a matter of pressure from headquarters as pressure from within the centers 

themselves that brought about this change. It should be added that many NACA 

engineers adjusted rapidly to the style of the new agency and rose to high positions 

within it: younger men like, Edgar Cortright, Harold Finger, and George Low, as 

well as veterans like Abe Silverstein. One wonders if centers like Langley and 

Lewis really had much choice in taking on these programs. Had they remained 

research centers and nothing else, they would very likely have dwindled to insignificance. The centers had, so to speak, to latch onto the coattails of Apollo. 

Several lessons may be derived from the history of NASA's efforts to delegate 

authority to the field installations. The first is the extent to which successful 

decentralization hinged on the development of new management devices for monitoring and control. The second is that reorganization in the field had to be 

matched by changes at headquarters. The third lesson is the most important of all. 

Decentralization is relative. In a large agency . . . there can be no such thing as complete 

centralization or decentralization ... top management that has pursued a policy of centralization over the years may feel that minor relaxations of such a policy constitute a conversion 

to decentralization. Conversely, an organization accustomed to liberal delegations of authority 

and responsibility might view one or two decisions to withhold some further delegations as 

a return to centralization. . . . 

271 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

As more and more authority for a wide range of responsibilities is decentralized to the re

the need for strong, centralized planning increases. This is particularly true in the m

ment of the Agency's resources. 

Did NASA have this kind of centralized planning? George Muel

summc;trized the relations between headquarters and at least some of the 

One reason that the Manned Space Flight Centers are enthusiastic about the MS

ganization is that MSF has delegated authority to the centers to the greatest extent po

The centers have few "documented type" constraints placed upon them, but the cons

have been carefully chosen so that MSF has good control.7 

This may have been adequate for Apollo, whose scope was such that he

ters, while it could coordinate, inspect, and develop standards, could hard

age it directly. By 1968-1969 the same centers-Marshall especially-we

early phases of a withdrawal process brought on by cuts in manpower an

The problem of new roles and missions could be alleviated by the centers, 

in part. Most of them were adaptable, and nearly all had gone through 

one reorganization in the late 1950s or early 1960s, moving from aer

research to launch vehicle development, as at Lewis, or from developme

on guided missiles to lunar and planetary probes, as at JPL. By 1969 

cycle of reorganization was under way, as facilities that were no longer 

were closed, others were modified to accommodate new programs, wh

facilities like the Lunar Receiving Laboratory at MSC were accomplish

Yet the more subtle changes in a center's mission could only occur gradua

here, it seems, the failure of headquarters to draft a coherent long-range p

the centers at a serious disadvantage. The advanced studies and task-force 

of 1964-1969 were no substitute for a NASA-wide plan. The difficu

planning were real enough, as PCSG and the members of its working 

found out. There were too many planning groups, with little coordination 

them; a lack of common interests among the centers; and the artificial fo

the planning process by the creation of the President's Space Task Grou

top management might have done more to bring the process to some visib

inside the agency. In particular, not enough was done to relate substant

grams to an institutional framework. 

NASA throve during the prosperous early 1960s and survived the c

of the late 1960s because of four elements within, or conferred upon, 

ganization: administrative flexibility; the ability of senior management to 

political game on the Hill, at the White House, and before the public at la

decentralization of program management to the field; and the timeline

which the important decisions were made. Whether the success of N

managing large-scale endeavors affords a precedent for future Ma

Projects or Apollos is another matter. Apollo will always stand as a monu

the ability of hundreds of thousands of men and women in widely d

locations to accomplish a program of staggering magnitude. But to the ex

272 
SUMMARY CONCLUSIONS 

Apollo serves as a model for future "wars on poverty" or "wars on cancer," the 

lessons of the program will have been learnt badly. Whatever can be said about 

the NASA organization, there were no miraculous shortcuts to success, neither 

PERT nor incentive contracts nor project management as such. The problems of 

education, of transportation, of revitalizing the inner cities are-as has been said 

more than once-problems of kind rather than degree.8 They are also problems 

of value. In all three cases, technology may contribute to a solution, but it cannot 

of itself define the problem. The space program enjoyed a favorable political 

environment, few direct competitors, and no vested interests. In organizational 

terms, the success of NASA depended on turning all three to advantage. 

273 

NOTES TO PAGES 9-34 

Notes 

INTRODUCTION 

1 Herbert Simon, Administrative Behavior 2d ed. (New York: Free Press, 1957). 2 Ibid., p. 79. 

'For problems of administrative feedback, see the book of that name by Herbert Kaufman, with the collaboration of Michael Couzens (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1973). 

• Personnel figures are excerpted from tables 3-1 and 2-4 of the NASA Historical Data Book, 1956- 1968 

(NASA SP-4012, 1976). 

'James E. Webb, Space Age Management: The Large-Scale Approach, McKinsey Foundation Lecture Series, 

Graduate School of Business, Columbia University (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969), especially pp. 60- 65. 

•on this concept, see Richard L. Chapman et al., Project Management in NASA (NASA SP- 324, 1973), 

p. 109. 

CHAPTER 1 

1 D. Brainerd Holmes to Philip Drotning, i2 June 1963. Holmes was Director for Manned Space Flight; 

1961- 1963. 2 Richard R. Nelson, The Moon and the Ghello: An Essay on Public Policy Analysis (New York: W.W. Norton 

& Co., 1977), p. 144. Citation that follows is in ibid., p. 145. 

' The concept of "key decisions" was suggested by L. L. Durisch and Robert£,. Lowry, "The Scope and Content 

of Administration-The TVA Illustration," Public Administration Review 13 (Autumn 1953): 219-226. 

• Section 203(b)(5) of the Space Act. 

'Wernher von Braun, Director, Marshall Space Flight Center, briefing of House Science and Astronautics 

Committee, Sulx:ommittee on M<1nned Space Flight, 24 Jan. 1964, in hearings on 1965 NASA Authorization, 

88th Cong., 2<i sess. (1964), p. 803. 

''Bureau of the Budget Bulletin 60-2, 21 Sept. 1959, and Circular A- 76, 3 Mar. 1966. 7 Robert L. Rosholt, An Administrative History of NASA, 1958- 1963 (NASA SP-4101, 1966), p. 259. 

• Apollo Program Office, NASA-Apallo Program Management, vol. 1 (Dec. 1967), p. 2-8. 

• "Dr. Mueller stressed the importance of a philosophical approach to meeting schedules which minimizes 

'dead-end' testing and maximizes 'all-up systems flight tests,"' at 22d meeting, Manned Space Flight Management Council, 29 Oct. 1963. This is apparently the first official reference to the all-up concept. 10 Webb, to Heads of all Headquarters Offices and Directors of Field Centers, "Office of the Administrator," 

29 Dec. 1965. 

""Organization and Management," in " Preliminary History of NASA, 1963-1969," final ed. (1 5 J an. 1969), 

p. VI-39. This unpublished manuscript was reproduced for internal NASA use after preparation for the White 

House Administrative Histories Project, with a preface by Acting Administrator Thomas 0. Paine and a 

foreword by James E. Webb. 

275 
NOTES TO PAGES 9-34 

CHAPTER 2 

1 On NACA, see Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, Policy Planning for Aer

Research and Development, 89th Cong., 2d sess. (19 May 1966), pp. 38- 43, 166- 168. 2 Arthur L. Levine, The Future of the U.S. Space Program (New York: Praeger, 1975), p. 14. 

'Policy Planning for Aeronautical Research and Development, p. 166. 

• Ibid., p. 42. 

' Enid C. B. Schoettle, "The Establishment of NASA," in Sanford Lakoff, ed., Knowledge and Pow

York: Free Press, 1966), pp. 185- 186. 

'' Michael H. Armacost, The Politics of Weapons Innovation: The Thor-Jupiter Controversy (Ne

Columbia University Press, 1969), pp. 226-233. 7 Schoettle, "The Establishment of NASA," p. 212. 

" Ibid., p. 234. 

'' House Committee on Government Operations, Military Affairs Subcommittee, Government Oper

!:>'pace, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (4 June 1965), p. 40. 1

" Ibid., p. 53. 11 The authoritative account of the lunar landing decision is John Logsdon, The Decision to Go to t

(Cambridge: MIT Press, 1970). 12 Ibid., pp. 34-35. 

" House Science and Astronautics Committee, Defense Space Interests, 87th Cong., 1st sess. (1961

14 Levine, Future of the U.S. Space Program, p. 71. Emphasis in original. 

"Logsdon, Decision to Go to the Moon, p. 62. 

"'On the reasons for selecting Houston, see Thomas P. Murphy, Science, Geopolitics, and Federal S

(Lexington, Mass.: Heath Lexington, 1971), pp. 207-210. 17 Minutes of 1st meeting, MSF Management Council, 21 Dec. 1961. 1" The first part of the quotation is from a memo of II July to Wiesner from Donald Horning, chairm

Space Vehicle Panel; the second part, from PSAC, Report of the Space Vehicle Panel (On the Matter 

Mi.uion Mode Selection), 26 July 1962, p. IS. 1

'' Webb to Holmes, 7 Aug. 1962. 211 A.rtronaulics and Aeronautics, 1966 (NASA SP- 4007, 1967), p. 349. 21 Erasmus H. Kloman, Case-Study of the Surveyor Program (unpublished study for National Ac

Public Administration, 1971), p. 110. 22 House Science and Astronautics Committee, Subcommittee on NASA Oversight, Investigation o

Ranger, 88th Cong., 2d sess. (1964), pp. 162-163, 165-166, 168-169. 

" Ibid., p. 233. 24 Webb and Dryden, revised draft of "Consideration of Supplemental Appropriation During FY 196

Manned Lunar Landing Program," Jan. 1963. 

" A summary of the Phillips report was prepared by the General Accounting Office at the request o

Margaret Chase Smith (R-Maine) in May 1967. 

"'See Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1964 (NASA SP- 4005, 1965), pp. 99- 100. 

CHAPTER 3 

1 Thus the NASA Management Instruction (NMI) describing the functions and responsibilities of the 

Administrator for Organization and Management was issued on 14 Mar. 1968, exactly one year after 

was created. 2 Oral History Exit Interview with Dr. Robert C. Seamans, Jr. (8, 20 May; 3 June 1968), p. 55. 

'For pros and cons of study committees, see Anthony Downs, Inside Bureaucracy (Boston: Little, B

Co., 1967), pp. 207-208. 4 Robert Rosholt, An Administrative History of NASA, 1958-1963 (NASA SP:..4101, 1966), p. 148. 

cited as Administrative History. 

' Ibid., p. 153. 6 Ibid., p. 154. 7 For a very detailed account of the Kimpton report, see ibid., pp. 161- 169. 8 See appendix C, "Biographical Sketches of Principal NASA Officials" for careers of Webb, Dryden, 

et al. 

276 
NOTES TO PAGES 34-46 

9 Statement of Albert Siepert in House Science and Astronautics Committee, 1963 NASA Authorization, 

87th Cong., 2d sess. (1962), pp. 269- 270. 10 The key papers are "A Summary Look at 'The Headquarters Organization Problem,'" 27 Feb. Summary in 

Rosholt, Administrative History, pp. 200-201; "Clarifying and Strengthening the Role of NASA's General 

Management," 14 Apr. Ibid., pp. 203-206; "Reappraising NASA's Organizational Structure to Achieve the 

Objectives of an Accelerated Program," 12 June. Ibid., pp. 209-210; and "Organizing to Achieve the 

Objectives of an Accelerated Civilian Space Program," 7 Aug. Ibid., pp. 218-221. 11 Ibid., p. 205. 12 Paper prepared by DeMarquis Wyatt, "Budget Formulation and Execution," 3 Mar. 1967, p. I. 

" In the November 1961 reorganization the functions of program review were divided among the new divisions 

of Technical Programs and Reliability and Quality Assurance. • 

,. Rosholt, Administrative History, p. 221 

"Statement of Raymond Bisplinghoff, OART Director, in House Science and Astronautics Committee, 1964 

NASA Authorization, 88th Cong., 1st sess. (1963), p. 1882. 16 House Science and Astronautics Committee, 1965 NASA Authorization, 88th Cong., 2d sess. (1964), p. 103. 17 This was GMI 4-1-1 in the pre-1965 NASA coding system. 18 Memorandum to Seamans through Director of Administration from Walter Hahn (Director, Management 

Analysis Division), "Inadequate and Conflicting Management Systems," 28 Sept. 1962. 19 Transcript of remarks by Harry Goett at Seventh Semi-Annual Management Conference, Langley Research 

Center (4-5 Oct. 1962), p. 7. 20 In NASA a "program" is defined as "a related series of undertakings which continue over a period of time 

(normally years), and which are designed to accomplish a broad scientific or technical goal. ... Program 

responsibility is assigned to the appropriate Program Office within NASA." 

A "project" is "within a program, an undertaking with a scheduled beginning and ending, which normally 

involves one of the following .. .. 

"(I) The design, development and demonstration of [a) major advanced hardware item 

"(2) The design, construction and operation of a new launch vehicle (and associated ground support) during 

its research and development phase 

"(3) The construction and operation of one or more aeronautical or space vehicles and necessary ground 

support in order to accomplish a scientific or technical objective." NASA Management Instruction (NMI) 

4-1-1, 8 Mar. 1963, pp. 1-2. 21 Rosholt, Administrative History, p. 227. The Office of Tracking and Data Acquisition is counted as a program 

office, although it had no centers and no "programs." 22 On the problem of relieving Seamans of part of his workload, see memorandum from Webb's executive 

assistant R. P. Young to Webb, 30 July 1962. 23 House Science and Astronautics Committee, 1965 NASA Authorization, p. 69. 24 For an excellent survey of the NASA Technology Utilization Program, see Edward E. Furash, "The Problem 

of Technology Transfer," in Raymond A. Bauer and Kenneth J. Gergen, eds., The Study of Policy Formation 

(New York: Free Press, 1968), pp. 281-328. 25 From transcript of-Webb's briefing of the Administrator's Management Advisory Panel, 19 Apr. 1968, p. 28. 26 The directive setting forth NASA policy concerning functional management is NPD 1240.1, 13 June 1966. 27 Ibid., p. 2. 28 Transcript of Management Advisory Panel meeting, 19 Apr. 1968, p. 23? 29 The centers reported to the program offices as follows: Goddard, JPL, and Wallops Station to OSSA; Ames, 

Flight Research Center, Langley, Lewis, and the Electronics Research Center that NASA proposed for the 

FY 1964 budget to OART; Kennedy Space Center, Manned Spacecraft Center, and Marshall Space Flight 

Center to 0 MSF. For establishment of the Launch Operations Center, see Seamans exit interview, pp. 51- 52. 

lO Ibid., p. I 00. 

""Dr. Seamans stated this group would meet weekly to focus its attention on management problems, processes 

and procedures in order to insure that the new organization works effectively. Program matters would be 

discussed in detail at the monthly status reviews." From minutes of first Management Committee meeting, 14 

Oct. 1963. 32 Based on a memorandum from Wyatt to Edgar Cortright, Deputy Associate Administrator (OSSA), "Presentation Formats, Associate Administrator's Monthly Program Meetings," 9 Dec. 1965. 

"This is as good a place as any to sort out and explain the various titles of headquarters officials. The heads 

of the program offices were "Directors" from 1961 to 1963, when they became "Associate Administrators for 

__ ."The Office of Tracking and Data Acquisition became a program office in December 1965. Following 

the 1963 reorganization, the heads of the offices reporting to Webb (e.g., Public Affairs, Legislative Affairs, 

277 
NOTES TO PAGES 46-54 

International Programs) became "Assistant Administrators for __ ." Following the 1963 reorga

heads of the offices reporting to Seamans (e.g., Industry Affairs, Defense Affairs, Programming, 

tion) became "Deputy Associate Administrators," changed to "Assistant Administrators" in the 19

zation. Although it appears in early organization charts, the office of "Associate Deputy Ad

actu·ally dates from 1965, when it was created for Willis Shapley. The Associate Deputy Admin

general responsibility for external affairs, especially liaison with Congress, the Bureau of the Bud

Department of Defense. One of the most confusing titles was "Deputy Associate Admin

1962-1963 there were two such officials, one for "Manned Space Flight Centers," the other for 

Manned Space Flight Centers." The 1963 reorganization replaced these with a single official w

Seamans' deputy. The Deputy Associate Administrator from 1964 to 1966, Earl Hilburn, had 

responsibilities for procurement, liaison with the General Accounting Office, and as all-purp

shooter. Hilburn was director of two task forces that investigated the 1964 Ranger 6 failure and 

between costs and schedule slippages in major NASA programs. The position lapsed when Hilbur

but was revived in the 1970s. 14 See draft memorandum, 14 Nov. 1962", enlarging the scope of Office of Plans and Program Ev

giving its head special responsibility for evaluating current programs. "In this regard I [Webb?

should reconsider foregoing revision of the long range plan for calendar year 1963 in order to app

available effort to initiating the review .and analysis outlined above." 

On 13 March 1963 Webb wrote to Abe Hyatt, the office Director, that "there is no doubt th

range planning needs increased emphasis, and at the same time should be given higher priority th

the long range plan." In August Webb decided to disperse the functions of the Office of Plans a

Evaluation among other headquarters divisions, and Hyatt left at the end of October. 

"Webb to James Elliott, Director of Management Analysis (Office of Administration), 7 July 1

36 This and the following paragraph are based on several internal memorandums, especially one 

Elliott to members of the NASA Management Committee, 20 May 1964, and a briefing memoran

Administrator, 5 May 1965. 

"These included policy statements (NPDs), Management Instructions (NMis), detailed handboo

statements of procurement procedures (NPCs), and temporary notices (NNs). Headquarters M

Instructions (HQMis) and delegations of authority (HMDs) were added later. 

"'Published as NPC 107. 39 According to Seamans, Webb "wanted to have a clear-cut outline of what every responsible pers

and who they dealt with, and all this kind of thing-which is . . . a classical way of dealing with b

tions .. . but it's sometimes harder to visualize what you do in given circumstances if there are on

job descriptions." Seamans exit interview, p. 60. 40 For origins of secretariat, see draft report of Adm. Rufus E. Rose (USN, Ret.), "Development an

ment of the Executive Secretariat," 27 Jan. 1966. 41 The plan for a secretariat was outlined by Jack Young in "Plan for Keeping the Members 

Management More Fully Informed," 2 Oct. 1963, which was revised by Seamans before being 

Dryden and Webb. 42 Interview with Lawrence Vogel, Director, Headquarters Administration, 13 Oct. 1976. 43 There is a good description of the State Department secretariat in a "Report on Federal Secre

tions," prepared by NASA consultant J. S. Patterson and .submitted 17 Aug. 1961. 44 Source: Vogel interview. It must be stressed that Webb needed the secretariat to get on top of 

formation and that he preferred part-time consultants like Gen. George Cabell (USAF, Ret.) or 

Joseph C. Satterthwaite as contacts with other agencies such as the Central Intelligence Agency a

., Department. . .. . . · Memorandum from Webb to heads of all Headquarters Offices and Directors of F1eld Centers, "

Administrator," 29 Dec. 1965. This memorandum incorporated many of the changes recommen

Office of the Administrator: Evolving Concepts and Practices," prepared by Jack Young and staff i

46 Minutes of the "Special Meeting of the Deputy Administrator on Reorganization," 30 Dec. 19

was appointed Deputy Administrator on an interim basis, since the Senate was not in sess

appointment was routinely confirmed in Jan. 1966. 47 See note 45 above. Vogel was both executive officer and executive secretary. 48 This example is cited by Assistant to the Administrator, W. H. Close, "The Secretariat," 17 M

49 Seamans exit interview, p. 79. 

"' See note 46 above. 51 Briefing for Webb on Voyager program by Edgar Cortright, 8 Feb. 1967, pp. 82, 47. 2 ' Ibid., pp. 82- 83. 

"Webb to Seamans, 5 Jan. 1967, and Webb to Finger, 6 Jan. 1967. 

278 
NOTES TO PAGES 54-67 

"Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1967 (NASA SP-4008, 1968), p. 75. 

ss NMI 1130.1, "Role and Responsibilities-The Associate Administrator for Organization and Management," 

14 Mar. 1968. See note 1 above. 

s• Transcript of Management Advisory Panel meeting, 19 Apr. 1968, pp. 41, 48-49. 57 Webb memorandum, 27 Jan: 1968. 

ss Newell was not made Associate Administrator in anticipation of Seamans' departure; he was offered the 

position before Seamans announced his intention to leave. Newell to NASA Historian Eugene Emme, 20 Sept. 

1968. 

•• T .E. Jenkins (Director, Program and Special Reports Division, Executive Secretariat) to Newell, "NASA 

Monthly Status Reviews in support of the NASA Management Council," 7 Jan. 1968. 60 This office was originally created by Webb to enable Gen. William McKee (USAF, Ret.) to serve as a 

troubleshooter, and it consisted of little more than an office with a secret:-ry. It was wound up shortly after 

McKee left NASA in 1965 to become the FAA Administrator. 61 NMI 1156.15, 12 Feb. 1968. 62 The first quotation is excerpted from Newell's memorandum to Directors of Headquarters Program and Staff 

Offices, 11 Mar. 1968; the second, from a memorandum of 4? Nov. 1968, "Regularly Scheduled Meetings 

Chaired or Attended by the Administrator." Newell's 11 Mar. memorandum incorporated the recommendations of an Ad Hoc Group on Project Status Reviews that reported on 1 Mar. 63 Transcript of Management Advisory Panel Meeting, 19 Apr. 1968, pp. 28, 29. 64 On the problem of communications within bureaus, see Downs, Inside Bureaucracy, chap. 10. 65 Gen. Jacob E. Smart (USAF, Ret.) et al., "A Philosophy of Management for NASA," 23 June 1967, p. 1. 66 Ibid., pp. 16-17. 67 Leonard R. Sayles and Margaret K. Chandler, Managing lArge Systems: Organizations for the Future (New 

York: Harper & Row, 1971), p. 173. Prof. Sayles, of the Columbia University Graduate School of Business, 

was appointed a special assistant to Webb in Sept. 1966 and was a "counsellor" to the Management Advisory 

Panel when it was created in 1968. Emphasis added. 68 For the inspector-general concept, see memorandum from Charles G. Haynes, Director of Inspections (Office 

of Administration), 28 June 1966. He noted that the following headquarters offices and divisions had 

inspection functions: the Inspection Division, the Audit Division, and the Division of Management Analysis 

and Research, all in the Office of Administration; the Office of Programming; and the Office of Industry 

Affairs. 

CHAPTER 4 

1 Report of Steering Group for Study of NASA Acquisition Process, Management Study of NASA Acquisition 

Process, June 1971, p. 6. 2 NASA Source Evaluation Board Manual (NPC 402, Aug. 1964), p. 2-1. 3 House Committee on Government Operations, Military Operations Subcommittee, Government Procurement and Contracting, Part 2, 91st Cong., 1st sess. (25-27 Mar. 1969), p. 505. 

• Testimony of David E. Bell, Director, Bureau of the Budget, House Committee on Government Operations, 

Military Operations Subcommittee, Systems Development and Management, 87th Cong., 2d sess. (21 June 

1962), p. 44. 

'House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Review of the Space' Program, 86th Cong., 2d sess. (1960), 

p. 400. 6 On these institutions, see Dean Coddington and J. Gordon Milliken, "The Future of Federal Contract 

Research Centers," in Thomas P. Murphy, ed., Science, Geopolitics, and Federal Spending (Lexington, 

Mass.: Heath Lexington Books, 1971), pp. 87-110. 7 Webb to Dryden and Seamans, 25 Oct. 1963. In congressional testimony, John Young, the NASA Director 

of Administration, stated that it was NASA policy not to create not-for-profit corporations. See House 

Committee on Government Operations, Military Operations Subcommittee, Systems Development and 

Management-7963, 88th Cong., st sess. (1963) pp. 214-215. 8 In 1966, for example, 6 percent of RAND's S22 million budget was for work done under contract to NASA. 

Armed Forces Management (Feb. 1966), p. 71 . Many RAND studies were commissioned by OMSF and the 

Apollo Program Office in support of long-range and contingency planning. The extent of NASA's use of 

"nonprofits" may be gauged by the fact that in 1964 RAND had contracts with NASA totaling $3.3 million, 

while MIT's Lincoln Laboratories had contracts totaling over S7 million. Astronautics and Aeronautics, 7964, 

p. 435. 

279 
NOTES TO PAGES 67-76 

9 Interview with Kenneth Webster, Office of Assistant Associate Administrator for Center Operation

Management), 31 Aug. 1976. 10 Webster interview. See also NHB 2410.1, Management Procedures for Automatic Data Processi

ment, July 1965. The annual reports to the Bureau of the Budget on utilization of ADP equip

standardized in the Bureau's Circular A-55, 15 Nov. 1963. 11 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Subcommittee on Advanced Research and Techno

NASA Authorization, 90th Cong., 1st sess. (1967), pp. 567-568. 12 In 1969 the following centers were authorized to negotiate contracts up to $2.5 million: Ames, Lang

Goddard, the Manned Spacecraft and Marshall centers, and the Space Nuclear Propulsion Off

S1 million: Kennedy, the Headquarters Contracts Division, and the NASA Pasadena Office. Up to 

the Flight Research Center and Wallops Station. 

"NASA Source Evaluation Board Manual, p. 4-1. 14 Clarence Danhof, Government Contracting and Technological Change (Washington, D.C.: The 

Institution, 1968), p. 95. 15 This paragraph is based on an article by Robert B. Hall, "The Armed Services Procurement A

Should Be Reformed," reprinted in House Committee on Government Operations, Military O

Subcommittee, Government Procurement and Contracting, Part 7 (22, 26-28 May 1969), pp. 2

16 Ibid., p. 2006. 17 Robert L. Perry, "The Atlas, Thor, Titan, and Minuteman," in Eugene M . Emme, ed., The 

Rocket Technology: Essays on Research, Development, and Utility (Detroit: Wayne State Univer

1964), p. 149. 18 This turned out to be the case. It took the Thor only 3.5 years and the Atlas 5.2 years to go from 

approval to first operational squadron, instead of the 6-8 years first projected. By comparison, it too

7.8 years and the B-52 9.4 years to attain operational capability. John Greenwood, "The Air For

Missile and Space Program (1954-1974)," Aerospace Historian (Dec. 1974), 195. Quote is from M

Armacost, The Politics of Weapons Innovation: The Thor-jupiter Controversy (New York: Columb

sity Press, 1969), p. 157. 19 Armacost, The Politics of Weapons Innovation, p. 157. 20 In 1958 Ramo-Wooldridge merged with Thompson Products to become TRW, Inc., while Space T

Laboratories (STL), which had performed general systems engineering and technical direction 

Force, became a separate incorporated subsidiary. In 1960 the nonprofit Aerospace Corporation 

lished with a nucleus of STL personnel to free TRW / STL to compete for production contracts

21 Armacost, The Politics of Weapons Innovation, p. 159. 22 Danhof, Government Contracting and Technological Change, pp. 50-51. 23 Joseph Fernandez, The Origin, Evolution, and Operation of the NASA Contractor Source Evalua

Process, unpublished M.Sc. thesis (Massachusetts Institute of Technology, June 1966), p. 11. E

original. 

24 Ibid., pp. 12- 13. 

"For an account of the 1959 "production of documents" controversy, see Rosholt, Administrativ

pp. 99- 102. 26 Ibid., p. 257. 27 See "Office of Procurement: Organization and Functions," July 1963. 28 House Committee on Government Operations, Government Procurement and Contracting

pp. 475-476. The justification for noncompetitive procurement was signed by Webb in Dec. 19

29 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1964 NASA Authorization, 88th Cong., 1st se

p. 3020. 

:10 According to the National Science Foundation, they supplied a 90-percent average share during f

1960- 1966 and 85 percent during 1967-1969. Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1968, p. 333. 

" Published as Report to the President on Government Contracting for Research and Development, 

87th Cong., 2nd sess., May 1962. This report, except for two brief omissions, is reprinted in its 

W. R. Nelson, ed., The Politics of Science (New York: Oxford University Press, 1968), pp. 193

which the following excerpts are cited. 32 Ibid., pp. 200, 201. 

"Ibid., p. 216. For recommendations concerning R&D contracts, see pp. 209-210. 34 For details of Salary Reform Act, see Danhof, Government Contracting and Technological Chang

122; for Kennedy's memorandum of 2 May 1963, see House Committee on Government Operation

Development and Management- 1963, pp. 271 - 281. 

" On these and other reforms in Defense management, see testimony of Director of Defense Re

280 
NOTES TO PAGES 76-84 

Engineering Harold Brown, in House Committee on Government Operations, Systems Development and 

Management, pp. 436-440, and Assistant Secretary of Defense (Installations and Logistics) Thomas D. 

Morris, in ibid., p. 551. 

"'House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1964 NASA Authorization, p. 463. 37 Another catalyst for DOD and NASA reforms was the publication in 1962 of Peck and Scherer, Weapons 

Acquisition Process: An Economic Analysis. This was one of the first studies to demonstrate the inefficiencies 

of CPFF contracting. Peck and Scherer found an average cost production error of 220 percent in a sample 

of twelve CPFF programs. The study and its influence on NASA policy were discussed in a memorandum 

from Assistant Administrator for Industry Affairs Bernhardt Dorman to Harold Finger dated 18 Dec. 1967. 38 NASA Circular 231, 29 May 1962. Subject: Special Procurement Study Reprinted in 1964 NASA Authorization, pp. 1786-1787. 9 ' Charles to Webb, 25 Feb. 1963. Subject: NASA Procurement. This memorandum summarizes Charles' 

56-page report, "Recommendations Concerning NASA Procurement Policies," submitted at the same time. 

Two other reports by Charles were "Conversion from CPFF to CPIF," 7 Aug. 1963, and "Cost Reduction 

Incentives in Research and Development Contracts," 23 Aug. 1963. 

"' On Sept. 1962 circular, see Circular 242, 1 Sept. 1962. Subject: Use of Incentive Contracts. Reprinted in 

House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1964 NASA Authorization, pp. 3009-3011. For Nov. 1963 

directive, see House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1966 NASA Authorization, 89th Cong., 1st sess. 

(1965), p. 387. 

"Webb to James E. Underwood, 27 Sept. 1966. Webb was also a member of the Commission on Government 

Procurement from March 1972 to the completion of its report the following December. 42 As justification for Electronics Research Center, see NASA report, "Role and Mission of the NASA Electronics Research Center," in Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 1964 NASA Authorization, 

88th Cong., 1st sess. (1963), p. 1002. The entire report, at pp. 999-1009, is perhaps the most concise analysis 

of the rationale for maintaining a large in-house staff. 4' Report of the Survey Task Team for Study of Major Systems Contracts QPL: 10 Nov. 1965), p. 38. 44 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight, 88th Cong., 2d sess. 

(executive session, 4 Mar. 1964), pp. 627, 626. 45 Testimony of Deputy Associate Administrator (OSSA) Edgar Cortright in House Committee on Science and 

Astronautics, 1965 NASA Authorization, 88th Cong., 2d sess. (1964), pp. 1539-1540. 46 Third draft of a memorandum from Executive Secretary Lawrence Vogel to Deputy Associate Administrator 

for Industry Affairs William Rieke, 2 Dec. 1965. Subject: Administrator's Selection of Contractors to Provide 

Support Services. 47 This section is based on the following sources: "DOD Contract Administration Services Support Task Group 

Report," to George Mueller, 5 Feb. 1965; Paper, Clyde Bothmer, Office of Industry Affairs, to Rieke, 30 July 

1965. Subject: The Future of Contract Administration in NASA; NASA, Office of the Executive Secretary 

(Program and Special Reports Division, 31 Oct. 1966), Procurement Program, pp. 32-33. 48 Seamans to Mueller, 23 Sept. 1964. 49 Memorandum, E. Z. Gray, Director, Advanced Manned Missions, 7 Apr. 1965. Subject: Component/System 

Interaction Problems. 50 Statement of Webb in transcript of Senate Hearing Dry Run (8 June 1967), p. 6. This was a rehearsal 

involving Webb, Mueller, and Phillips for a hearing in executive session on the Apollo fire by the Senate 

Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences. 51 See note 48 above. 2 ' Webb to Seamans, 20 Oct. 1964. This is. the source for indented quotations below. 

"Sources: Rough notes and staff papers of joint cost and schedules validation team at Marshall Space Flight 

Center, June-July 1963; interview with James Elliott, Office of Management Planning, 5 Oct. 1976. 4 ' Seamans to members of NASA Management Committee, l7 July 1964. Subject: Outline for DiscussionProbable Contributing Factors to Project Schedule Slippage. 

" First and Second Interim Reports to the Associate Administrator on Studies Relating to Management 

Effectiveness in Scheduling and Cost Estimating, 15 Sept. 1964 and 15 Dec. 1964. The staff work underlying 

these reports was carried out by the Program Review, Resources Analysis, and Management Reports 

Divisions of the Office of Programming, with Thomas E. Jenkins as coordinator. 6 ' First Interim Report ... p. 26. 

" See ibid., pp. 27-28, for specific recommendations. 

"Phased project planning was also used in studies for the Advanced Orbiting Solar Observatory (canceled in 

December 1965), the Hypersonic Ramjet Experiment, and the 445-newton-thrust engine for Surveyor, 

Voyager, and the Manned Orbiting Research Laboratory. Cited by Bernard Maggin, "Phased Project 

281 
NOTES TO PAGES 84-90 

Planning," NASA Management Seminar, 12 Jan. 1966. 59 Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 7966 NASA Authorization, 89th Cong

(1965), p. 95. . 

60 NPD 7121.1, 28 Oct. 1965. Subject: Phased Project Planning. 61 Alain Enthoven and K. Wayne Smith, How Much is Enough? Shaping the Defense Program, 

(New York: Harper & Row, 1971), p. 240. 62 Report of Commission on Government Procurement, vol. 2 (Dec. 1972), p. 100, n. 11. 6' For DOD policy on program definition, see DOD Directive 3200.9, ·1 July 1965. Subject: In

Engineering and Operational Systems . 

.. A personal service contract is one in which "an employer-employee relationship between the Gover

contractor personnel is provided for in the contract, or actual practice in this respect leads to that co

The U.S. Comptroller General and the Civil Service Commission, in decisions handed down in 

1967, ruled such contracts invalid. A contract for nonpersonal s~rvices "contemplates the furni

service a's an end product, rather than merely man-hours of effort. The contractor is actually in

not merely a servant, employee or intermediate agent of the Government." For these definitions, 

Office of Programming, Program Reports Division, Procurement Program (27 Oct. 1964), p. 27

65 House Committee on Government Operations, Special Studies Subcommittee, A Cost Profile fo

Services, 90th Cong., 2d sess. (23 Apr. 1968), p. 7. This was one of a series of hearings held by sub

chairman Porter Hardy, Jr. (D-Va.) in 1967 and 1968 on NASA contracting for support servic

66 These guidelines are in section 3, "Criteria· for Contracting Out," in NASA Policy and Procedu

of Contracts for Non personal Services (NPC 401, Apr. 1964), issued after reviews by the General A

Office and the Civil Service Commission disclosed that the method used at Goddard in hiring techni

and typists violated the Civil Service Act and the 1949 Classification Act. 67 The relevant guidelines are in the Bureau's Bulletin 60-2 (21 Sept. 1959), which was superseded b

A-76 (3 ·Mar. 1966; revised, 30 Aug. 1967). 68 GAO Report B-133394, "Potential Savings Available Through Use of Civil Service Rat

Contractor-FurnishedEmployees for Certain Support Services," June 1967. 69 Bernard Sisco, Deputy Assistant Director for Administration, Goddard Space Flight Center, to C

ber, NASA Office of Procurement, 12 Nov. 1964. 70 House Committee on Government Operations, A Cost Profile for Support Services, p. 6. 71 House Committee on Government Operations, Special Studies Subcommittee, Support Service 

90th Cong., 1st sess. (21 June 1967), p. 70. 72 However, the OMSF centers were permitted to use Boeing' for "local support," for which the neces

would be transferred to Boeing's contract for the first stage of the Saturn V. Memorandum, Muelle

9 July 1969. Subject: Phasedown of Boeing TIE Support .. . Following the First Successful Luna

Mission. 

" Samuel Phillips to Mueller, 13 Dec. 1968. Subject: Future OMSF Engineering Requirements. 

74 The discussion of the Bellcomm, General Electric, and Boeing TIE contracts is based on the followi

inspection of pertinent files in Headquarters Contracting Office; interview with Alexander Lym

Office of Energy Affairs, 3 Dec. 1976; Apollo Program Office, "Apollo Program Office Exper

Engineering Support Contractors," 15 Sept. 1969; and Apollo Program Office, "Paper on t

Technical Integration and Evaluation Contract ... ," 1 Oct. 1968. 75 "Apollo ... Experience with Engineering Support Contractors," p. 11. 76 This quotation and the Gemini-Apollo comparison are in ibid., p. A-2. 77 See, for example, House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 7964 NASA Authorization

376- 377, 1126-1133 (Bellcomm) and 389- 390, 1102-1107 (GE). 78 Ibid., p. 1130. 79 House Committee on Government Operations, Military Operations Subcommittee, Avoiding C

Interest in Defense Contracting and Employment, 88th Cong., 1st sess. (22 Nov. 1963), pp. 8

strictions on GE are in NASA Circular 280, 16 Apr. 1963. Subject: Restrictions on contractin

General Electric Company where competitive advantage may exist. Reprinted in House Com

Science and Astronautics, 7964 NASA Authorization, pp. 3265-3266. 80 "Paper on Boeing TIE . . . ," p. 4. 81 Ibid., p. 8. 82 Ibid., pp. 6-7. 8' On a visit to the Manned Spacecraft Center in August 1968, Finger explained "that one of the r

selecting Boeing for the TIE contract was that North American Rockwell's interest in subcon

Boeing for the SST made Boeing less competitive with North American Rockwell than other large 

firms. [North American Aviation has merged with Rockwell Standard in September 1967.] Therefo

282 
NOTES TO PAGES 90-98 

was in a better position to step in to manage the Downey plant if such a drastic measure had been necessary 

to get the Apollo spacecraft program back on its feet after the Apollo 204 accident." Lawrence Vogel, 

memorandum for the record, "Mr. Finger's Visit to MSC to Review Boeing TIE Activities, 20 Aug. 1968." 

8 Nov. 1968, p. 7. 

•• See "Paper on Boeing TIE .. . ," passim. 85 Lawrence Vogel, memorandum for the record, 8 Nov. 1968. Emphasis added. 86 Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1971, pp. 41-42. 87 This is the charge made by H. L. Nieburg. "The so-called 'supporting role' of Bellcomm as a decision-making 

input may rather l:ie a determining influence in the policy choices of NASA officials .. . . That this process 

is at work was revealed in the most important NASA technical decision: selection of the mode of flight for 

the manned lunar landing." H. L. Nieburg, In the Name of Science, revised ed. (Chicago: Quadrangle Books, 

1970), p. 261. 88 Courtney J . Brooks, James M. GTimwood, Loyd Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo (Comment draft, Aug. 

1976), p. 137. 89 Lyman interview and memorandum, Webb to Mueller, 26 Sept. 1967. Subject: Procurement Plan for a 

Continuation of Systems Analysis, Study, Planning and Technical Support Performed. by Bellcomm, Inc. 

under Contract NASW-417. 90 "Apollo . .. Experience with Engineering Contractors," p. 1. 91 Brooks et al., Chariots for Apollo, p. 152 arid n. 92 Gilruth to Mueller, 9 Jan. 1969. See also letters from von Braun, 21 Jan., and Kurt Debus, 14 Jan. 93 House Committee on Government Operations, Special Studies Subcommittee, Investigation of the BoeingTIE Contract-Part 1, 90th Cong., 2d sess. (15 July 1968), ·pp. 3, 6, 8. 94 When the Panel on Government Laboratories of the President's Science Advisory Committee visited MSC 

in 1964, they could not "help contrasting the atmosphere in which NASA's Manned Spacecraft Center 

operates with that of the Air Force's Avionics Laboratory. While competent professionals populate both, the 

sense of mission in MSC is infinitely stronger .... Unlike some of the agencies previously treated, NASA has 

a strong line management organization for its technical effort. The NASA organization, furthermore, is 

relatively new and does not exhibit yet the 'aging' effects observed in older organizations." Report of Panel 

on Government Laboratories of the President's Science Advisory Committee (Jan. 1965), pp. 11 , 21. 95 Merton]. Peck and Frederick M. Scherer, The Weapons Acquisition Process: An Economic Analysis (Boston: 

Division of Research, Graduate School of Business Administration, Harvard University, 1962), pp. 56-57. 96 Webb to Frank R. Hammill, Jr. (Counsel, House Committee on Science and Astronautics), 5 Apr. 1965. 97 Thomas P. Murphy, Science, Geopolitics, and Federal Spending, table 6-14, pp. 183-185 and 182, 186. 98 "Statement of the Administrator of NASA on Selection of a Contractor for the Saturn Stage S-11," 15 Sept. 

1961, and covering letter from Webb to Seamans, 16 Oct. 1961. 99 Peck and Scherer, Weapons Acquisition Process, p. 331, n. 13. 100 Fernandez, Origin . .. of the NASA . . . Source Evaluation Board Process, pp. 15, 23. It would seem that the 

high cost barriers to entry into rna jor systems development have given certain firms a lock on such programs. 

DOD figures on contract awards show that eighteen of twenty-five contractors in 1958 were still in the top 

bracket in 1969. Report of Commission on Government Procurement (Dec. 1972), 2:124, n. 20. NASA figures 

are more difficult to interpret because the ability df a contractor to remain in the top bracket year after year 

might owe less to its ability to compete for new contracts than for payments on major contracts already 

awarded, e.g., the Grumman contract for the lunar module. See NASA Data Book, tables 5-22 to 5-27. 101 Wyatt to Hilburn, 15 June 1964. Subject: Source Evaluation Boards, Draft Manual of Procedures, Comments. The examples of overruns and slippages noted above are excerpted from this memorandum. 102 This was one of the reasons for awarding RCA a contract for operating and maintaining two new tracking 

facilities. NASA wanted to write in a ceiling on overhead, the amount of the fixed fee, and the like; and RCA's 

response to these special provisions was the most satisfactory received. "Selection of Contractor for Operation, 

Maintenance, and Logistic Support of the New Data Acquisition Facilities near Fairbanks, Alaska and 

Rosman, North Carolina," 27 June 1963. 103 Peck and Scherer, Weapons Acquisition Process, p. 377. 104 Erasmus H. Kloman, "Case Study to the Lunar Orbiter Program," draft submitted to National Academy of 

Public Administration (June 1971), pp. 41-42, 70. One of the principal reasons for awarding North 

American Aviation rather than the Martin Company the Apollo command and service modules contractalthough the SEB had given the latter a higher overall rating-was because of its outstanding performance 

in developing the X-15, F-86, and F-100. For excerpts from the SEB report, see Brooks et al., Chariots for 

Apollo, pp. 71-72. 105 Eldon Taylor (Director, Program Review and Resources Management, OSSA) to Bernard Moritz (Acting 

Associate Administrator for Organization and Management), 20 May 1969. · 

283 
NOTES TO PAGES 99-107 

100 Finger to Phillip Whittaker (Assistant Administrator for Industry Affairs), 28 Jan. 1969. 107 Herbert Kaufman, The Limits of Organizational Change (University of Alabama Press, 1971 ), pp

108 Procurement Program (31 Oct. 1966), p. 8. 109 Management of NASA Study of NASA Acquisition Process, p. 25. 110 Edward B. Roberts, "How the U.S. Buys Research," in David Allison, ed., The Rrl:rD Game (Ca

Mass.:.MIT Press, 1969), pp. 292, 294. See same author's "Questioning the Cost/ Effectiveness of t

Procurement Process," in M .C. Yovits et al., eds. Research Program Effectiveness (New York: Go

Breach, 1966), pp. 93-113, which was based on research supported by NASA Grant No. NaNSG 2

111 Roberts, "How the U.S. Buys Research," p. 289. In a study of forty-one Defense contracts, rang

$100 000 to $8 million, and ten non-DOD (NASA?) awards, from Sl million to $40 million, Robe

that "about 60 percent of the R&D awards were made on a sole-source basis-without formal com

Ibid., p. 284. 112 Management Study of NASA Acquisition Process, p. 6. 113 Memorandum, Dorman to Finger, 18 Dec. 1967, and Procurement Program (31 Oct. 1966), p. 1

1966, ninety-two incentive contracts, totaling $4.3 billion, were cost-plus-incentive-fee; fifty-one ($

lion) were award fee; thirty-two ($222 million) were fixed-price incentives; and fifteen ($306 milli

mixed. 114 Mueller said this at an executive session of an OMSF program review, 20 Apr. 1965. Tra'nscrip

115 Dorman to Finger, 18 Dec. 1967. 116 Mueller to Morton Henig (Assistant Director, Civil Division, GAO), 23 May 1968. 117 See note 114 above, p. 10. 118 Booz, Allen and Hamilton, Inc., Study of the Effectiveness of NASA Incentive Contracts, vol. 1. Th

was done under NASA contract NASw-1277. The final report, on which the remainder of this 

based, was submitted on 5 Aug. 1966; a summary report was submitted on 15 Sept. 119 The contracts (and the prime contractors) were as follows: Pioneer spacecraft, Orbiting Geophysic

vatories, and Follow-on Orbiting Geophysical Observatories (TRW Systems Group); Gemini s

(McDonnell Aircraft); biosatellite spacecraft (General Electric, Re-entry Systems Department); 

Astronomical Observatories (Grumman); Delta vehicles (Douglas Aircraft); Lunar Orbiter spacecr

ing); instrumentation units and prototype guidance computer and data adapters (IBM Federal 

Division); ST-124M stabilized platform (Bendix Corporation); crawler transporter for launch com

KSC (Marion Power Shovel Company); Manned Spaceflight Tracking Network operation and mai

(Bendix Field Engineering Corporation); base support services for KSC launch complex (Tran

Airlines); support services for MSC (Brown & Root/ Northrup). 120 Summary Report, pp. 2-3. 121 Study of the Effectiveness of NASA Incentive Contracts, p. 51. 122 Procurement Program (31 Oct. 1966), p. 20. . 123 Study of the Effectiveness of NASA Incentive Contracts, p. 72. 124 Sapolsky has noted the same contradiction in the development of weapons systems. "Unlike 

contracts, the targets and their rankings in incentive contracts are supposedly fixed for the leng

contract and, thus, can reflect only the conditions that exist at the beginning of the development effo

can be then anticipated .. . . Yet, unpredictable changes in political conditions affecting major 

acquisitions seem to require constant alterations in project targets and their rankings . .. . It seems u

to expect the development and procurement targets of major weapon systems ... will remain fixed.

Sapolsky, The Polaris System Development, p. 214. 125 Study of the Effectiveness of NASA Incentive Contracts, pp. 80-94. 

CHAPTER 5 

1 From 57 500 at the end of June 1961 to 115 500 one year later and to 218 000 one year after tha

Data Book, table 3-26. 2 This is the figure given by Seamans for the third quarter Oan.-Mar.) of FY 1966. House Scie

Astronautics Committee, 1968 NASA Authorization, 90th Cong., 1st sess. (1967), p. 111. 3 NASA Personnel Division, Personnel Division Report: The In-House Work Force, Sept. 1969, p. 3. A

are as of 30 June. The employment figures are divided between contractor and in-house employees as 

1966,360 000 .contractor and 36 000 in-house; 1967,273 000 and 34 000; 1968,235 000 and 33 00

186 000 and 32 000. The 11-percent decline in the NASA work force from 1966 to 1969 con

variations between one center and another in personnel reductions. 

284 
NOTES TO PAGES 108-118 

• NPD 1240.1, "Functional Management," 13 June 1966. 

'Memorandum, Ray Kline to members of NASA Personnel Management Review Committee, 21 Feb. 1968, 

"Consolidation of Comments on Items in the Civil Service Inspections Report," p. 2. These comments were 

omitted in the Committee progress report of Apr. 1968. 6 The remainder of this and the whole of the next paragraph are based on a paper by Leonard Carulli, 

management analyst in the Organization and Management Planning Division, "Establishing and Filling 

Excepted and Super-Grade or Key Positions," S May 1967. The quotation immediately below is from p. 4. 7 Ibid., p. 6. Adams is Mac Adams, who succeeded Raymond Bisplinghoff as Associate Administrator for 

Advanced Research and Technology in !96S. Holmes is Brainerd Holmes, Director of Manned Space Flight 

from 1961 to 1963. Harry Goett was fired as Director of Goddard in July !96S in the wake of disagreement 

with general management over the proper amount of supervision of the center by headquarters. Goett thought 

that there was too much supervision, if not downright interference; Associate Administrator for Space Science 

Newell and Seamans, that in the existing external climate they could do no less. 8 This section draws extensively on the notes and memorandums assembled by Howard N. Braithwaite, staff 

assistant to the NASA Executive Salary Committee from 19S8 to 1967. Two items were particuJarly useful: 

"A Summary of Major Developments . . . ," Jan. 1967 (cited as "Summary"), and a paper addressed to 

Associate Deputy Administrator Willis Shapley, 23 Apr. 1968, titled "History of Super-Grade Positions, 

NACA/NASA" (cited as "Super-Grade Positions"). I would also like to thank Bill Lee, of the NASA 

Personnel Office, for making less mysterious the intricacies of NASA's use of excepted positions. 9 Braithwaite, "Super-Grade Positions," p. 4. "P-8," on the old civil service professional scale, was equivalent 

toGS-IS on the new "general schedule." · 10 Ibid., pp. 4, 3. Italics and inverted commas omitted. 11 Victor K. Heyman, "Government by Contract: Boon or Boner?" Public Administration Review 21 (Spring 

1961): 63. 12 Ibid. 

"These were the positions from grade GS-16 and above that were actually filled, rather than simply authorized. 

There were 341 nonquota GS-16 positions, 3S5 excepted positions (out of 42S), and 11 Public Law 313 

positions for a total of 707 positions filled. One important point is that all nonquota positions were filled at 

the GS-16 level. As a matter of policy, NASA used its allotment of excepted positions to appoint at grades 

GS-17 and GS-18 in order to avoid having to justify such appointments to the Civil Service Commission. 14 Braithwaite, "Summary," p. VII. 

"Braithwaite, "Processing of Actions for Excepted and GS-16/ 18 Positions," IS Nov. 1963, p. I. 16 Braithwaite, "Executive Personnel Program," p. 46. 17 Braithwaite, "Summary," p. IV. 18 Memorandum from John W. Macy, Jr., Chairman, U.S. Civil Service Commission, 14 Oct. 1966, to heads 

of ex·ecutive departments and agencies. 19 Macy to Webb, 29 Aug. 1966. 20 Braithwaite memorandum, 22 Feb. 1968, p. 10. 21 Comparisons of employment figures for different agencies are notoriously difficult because of the lack of 

uniform definitions of occupational groups. For what they are worth, the data collected by the National Science 

Foundation (NSF) show that in 1969 the 7 Federal agencies employing the greatest number of scientists and 

engineers were DOD (76 026), Agriculture (25 783), Interior (IS 340), NASA (13 918), Commerce (6 293), 

Health, Education, and Welfare (6 123), and Transportation (S 049). Thus NASA employed more scientists 

and engineers than all but three Federal agencies, and these three had much greater total employment than 

NASA. Source: National Science Foundation, Scientific, Technical and Health Personnel in the Federal 

Government, 7969 (NSF 70- 44), table 6. Even more remarkable is that the percentage of NASA scientists and 

and engineers actually engaged in R&D has been consistently higher than that of any other Government 

agency. The data collected by NSF at two-year intervals from October 1967 to October 1973 show that the 

percentage of NASA scientists and engineers in R&D has ranged from a low of Sl.7% in 1967 to a high of 

S3.3% in 1973. By comparison, the figures in those years for DHEW and DOD, with the next highest percentages were DHEW, 45.9% and 44.S%; and DOD, 33% and 33.8%. Figures for other agencies are much 

lower. I am indebted to Joseph Gannon of the NSF Manpower Utilization Studies Group for this information. 22 This definition is included as part of NASA's reply to a series of questions submitted by Senator Gaylord 

Nelson (D-Wis.), chairman of the Subcommittee on Employment and Manpower, Committee on Labor and 

Public Welfare. NASA assembled a number of papers and tables and titled the collection Reply to Sen. Gaylord 

Nelson (196S). This definition is taken from the Reply, p. 12-1. 2' Rosholt, Administrative History, p. 267. 24 Ibid, pp. 267- 268. 2' Reply to Sen. Gaylord Nelson, p. 12-3, which is based on the same source as that for table 3. 

285 
NOTES TO PAGES 118-130 

26 Ibid, p. 12-6. The last figure is an estimate from budget projections for FY 1966. 27 Executive Order 11246, "Equal Employment Opportunity," p. I. 28 U.S. Senate, Committee on Appropriations, Subcommittee on HUD, Space, Science, Veterans and 

Other Independent Agencies-Part I, 93rd Cong., 2d sess. (1974), pp. 108-109. See pp. 1-156 for a 

review of NASA policy on EEO. The remainder of this paragraph and the whole of the next are b

material submitted at these hearings. , 29 See Adm. W. Fred Boone (USN, Ret.), NASA Office of Defense Affairs: The First Five Years 

HHR-32, Dec. 1970), pp. 42-60, for an account of NASA's use-()f military detailees. See also E

Ulsamer, "USAF Professionalism-A National Resource," Air Force Magazine (Dec. 1967): 101-1

tired military officers who have worked for NASA include Adm. Boone, Lieut. Gen. Frank Bogart (

who was Deputy Associate Administrator (OMSF) before becoming Associate Director of MSC; M

Robert Curtin (USAF), who became the first Director of Facilities in May 1968; and Lieut. Gen. D

Crow (USAF), who was appointed Associate Deputy Administrator of NASA in 1975. 30 NASA Data Book, table 3-6. 

" Boone, NASA Office of Defense Affairs, p. 55. 2 ' For information on astronaut selection, see note 28 above, pp. 122-131. 

''Memorandum for the record, 5 Feb. 1968. Subject: Trip by [Personnel Management Review Comm

Lewis Research Center on January 26, 1968. Memorandum was written by Ray Kline, executive s

to the Committee. 

:w For material on patterns of support service contracting at the Manned Space Flight centers, see O

Programming (Program Reports Division), Procurement Program, 27 Oct. 1964, pp. 21-23. 

" House Government Operations Committee, Military Affairs Subcommittee, Missile and Space Grou

port Operations, 89th Cong., 2d sess. (21 Mar. 1966), p. 63. 

,. Webb to Kermit Gordon, Director, Bureau of the Budget, 14 Dec. 1964. 7 ' Annual Report of the Comptroller General of the United States for Fiscal Year 1964 (Washington: U

1964), p. 19. 

'"Interview with Walter Shupe, Director, GAO Liaison Activities, 6 Dec. 1976. 

,. Joseph P. Harris, Congressional Control of Administration (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Ins

1964), p. 141. Emphasis added. 40 House Committee on Government Operations, Military Affairs Subcommittee, Government Opera

Space, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (4 June 1965), p. 14. 41 Annual Report of the Comptroller General ... 1964, pp. 291-292,436. In Aug. 1971 the Pratt & W

Division of United Aircraft Corporation filed a formal protest with the GAO against the award of the 

for the main engine of the space shuttle to the Rocketdyne Division of North American Rockwell. Astr

and Aeronautics, 1971 (NASA SP-4016, 1972), pp. 218, 233. 42 These reports are drawn from the lists of audit reports published in the annual reports of the U.S. Com

General. 

4' In a memorandum of I Apr. 1966, Deputy Associate Administrator Earl Hilburn notes that "a h

centage of the GAO draft reports have been cancelled (dropped) because of NASA's replies. Recent e

are the case with respect to the Douglas fee on subcontractors' work in connection with the Delta, th

case dealing with the contracting arrangement between Westinghouse and Aerojet, and several cases in

reasonableness of costs at contractor's operations (LTV, Rocketdyne,Douglas, etc.)." 44 Office of the Executive Secretary (Program and Special Reports Division), Audit Program, 31 Oc

pp. 15-16. 45 Transcript of taped meeting of Webb, Seamans, and all the center directors, 28 Sept. 1966, p. 35. S

course, had recently left the Bureau of the Budget, of which he was Deputy Director, to head the G

46 "Considerations in the Management of Manpower in NASA," p. I. 47 On the "Marshall problem," see ibid., pp. 3-4. 48 Ibid., p. I 0. 49 Ibid., p. 13. See section on "Aligning Manpower and Program Requirements," pp. 13-20. 

"' Ibid., p. 15. 

"Ibid., p. 18. 2 ' U.S. Comptroller General, "Report on Potential Savings Available Through Use of Civil Service Rath

Contractor-Furnished Employees for Certain Support Services, National Aeronautics and Space A

tration," June 1967, Code B-133394. This report was submitted to Congress, and copies were sent to 

For figures on Marshall and Goddard contracts, see tables, pp. 9, 23. 

'·' Ibid., p. 34.' 

,. Aviation Week and Space Technology (30 Oct. 1967), p. 20. 

286 
NOTES TO PAGES 130-147 

" For NASA response to the GAO report and the Pellerzi decision, see House Committee on Science and 

Astronautics, Subcommittee on NASA Oversight, Support Service Contracting by the National Aeronautics 

and Space Administration, 90th Cong., 2d sess., (Apr. 1968), pp. 5, 7-8, 19, 23-25. 

~''NASA News Release, "NASA Contractor Conversion Plan," 27 Dec. 1968. 

"Annual Report of the Comptroller General . .. 1969, pp. 146-148. For changes at Marshall, see briefing by 

von Braun for the Administrator's Management Advisory Panel, 11? Apr. 1969, pp. 14-15. 

'"For 1962 review, see Rosholt, Administrative History, pp. 268-269. 

~·1 From cover letter, Macy to Webb, 10 Oct. 1967. 

'"'Memorandum for the record by Ray Kline, " Discussion of Personnel Management Review Committee with 

Mr. Webb on January 8, 1968," 9 Jan. 1968. 

'''NASA Personnel Division, Personnel Division Report: The In-House Work Force, Sept. 1969, pp. 52-55. A 

"high" or "low" rate was one higher or lower than the NASA-wide percentage. In FY 1969, Langley had the 

lowest accession and the lowest separation rates in NASA. 2 '' NMI' 1152.26, sec. 3. 

''' Personnel Management Review Committee, Progress Report, Apr. 1968, p. 23. ,,. Ibid., p. 2. 

•~ For these recommendations, see ibid., pp. 19, 22, 15, 3. 

'"' Ibid., p. 2. 7 '' James E. Webb, "NASA As An Adaptive Organization," John Diebold Lecture on Technological Change, 

Harvard University Graduate School of Business Administration (Boston: 30 Sept. 1968), pp. 47-48. 

''" Briefing by von Braun for Management Advisory Panel, p. 8. '" 1 , 

''""Considerations in the Management of Manpower in NASA," p. 4. 

"'Von Braun briefing, pp. 8-11. 71 Personnel Management Review Committee, Progress Report, p. 21. 72 The average age of permanent employees had risen to 41, up 1.6 years since 1968. The greatest net loss had 

been for those under age 25. NASA Office of Personnel, The In-House Work Force, Sept. 1970, pp. 20-21. 

"Paine to Mayo, 18 Aug. 1969, pp. 2-3. 74 Ibid. 

" Finger to Assistant Administrator for Administration William Lilly, 25 Sept. 1968. 71' See note 73 above. 77 MSC, "Background . .. of the Reduction-in-Force at the Manned Spacecraft Center during FY 68 ... ," 

(n.d.), pp. S-6. 

,. See note 33 above. 7'' Paper in files of Personnel Management Review Committee, based on discussion by Seamans with the 

Committee, 18 Jan. 1968. 

""Seamans Exit Interview, p. 5 I. 

•• Memorandum for the record by Ray Kline, "Discussion with OSSA Top Management on January 29, 1968," 

30 Jan. 1968. 

CHAPTER 6 

1 Webb to Chet Holifield (D-Calif.), 20 May 1964. . 2 Joint DOT-NASA Report, Civil Aviation Research and Development Policy Study (Mar. 1971), pp. 2-

5/2-6. Italics omitted. 3 NASA Headquarters Management Seminar, Unit II, "The Planning and Approval Process" (Nov. 1964), 

P· 5. • "Report on Excepted Positions in the Office of Programming," 12 Mar. 1965. 

' Exit interview with DeMarquis Wyatt, conducted by Eugene Emme, John Sloop, and William Fleming, 

21 June 1973, p. 97. 6 This paragraph and the next are based on a memorandum from Fleming to Seamans, 11 Sept. 1964. 7 "Staff Paper on Proposed Space Science Data Center Concept," 8 Nov. 1965. 8 Seamans to Newell, 15 Nov. 1965. 9 Raymond A. Bauer and Richard F. Meyer, NASA Planning and Decision Making- Final Report (typescript 

contractor report, Jan. 1970), vol. I, p. 111-12. On the problems involved in assigning the Saturn IB/ Centaur 

to either Lewis or Marshall, see draft memorandum, Seamans to Mueller, Newell, and Bisplinghoff, "Considerations Concerning Management of Saturn IB/ Centaur," 2 Feb. 1965. 10 Seamans to Program Associate Administrators, "Selection of Contractors for Advanced Studies," 24 Oct. 1963. 

287 
NOTES TO PAGES 147-158 

11 The varied nature of these studies should be stressed. A study might be exploratory, which systema

analyzes an idea for a new program or system; it might be an examination of feasibility to determin

practicability of accomplishing, within a specified period, a given space project, program or major compo

it might be parametric , a study of tradeoffs between the different elements of a program; it migh

preliminary design study, which makes detailed assessments of the assumptions underlying earlier 

phases; or it might be a detailed engineering design, in which the design could be specified to the point 

it was possible to' let contracts for hardware production. Citation is from the Office of Plans and Pro

Evaluation, "Review of NASA's Advanced Study Program," Oct. 1963, p. 7. 12 NASA Data Book, table 4-23. See also a staff paper, "NASA Advanced Studies Mission," 1 May 19

13 For further guidelines, see Seamans to Program Associate Administrators, "Award of Contracts for Adv

Systems and Mission Studies," 14 Apr. 1966. 14 Interview with William Fleming, 8 Feb. 1977. 

"Transcript of tape, "Meeting with Mr. Webb on Budget Discussion, 11 Aug. 1967, pp. 28-29. 16 Bauer and Meyer, NASA Planning and Decision Making, vol. I, pp. 111-31 / 32. 17 At a staff meeting in the summer of 1967, Associate Deputy Administrator Willis Shapley announce

"Dr. Seamans has authorized a major inhouse study on the space station concept. OSSA wants this stud

considers such a station as NASA's most important potential contribution. This view is not shared by ot

From notes of functional staff meeting taken by NASA Executive Officer Lawrence A. Vogel, 20 July 

18 This account is based on Adm. W. Fred Boone (USN, Ret.), NASA Office of Defense Affairs (NASA HHR

Dec. 1970), pp. 88-:-96, and House Committee on Government Operations Committee, Military A

, Subcommittee', G.overnment Operations in Space, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (4 June 1965), pp. 84-91. 19 Government Operations in Space, p. 90. 20 Boone, NASA Office of Defense Affairs, p. 88. 21 Ibid., p. 92. 22 Government Operations in Space , p. 90. 2' Office of Plans and Program Evaluation, "Review of NASA's Advanced Study Program," Oct: 1963, 

13. 24 Seamans to Program Associate Administrators, "Guidelines for FY 1965 Contract Advanced Mission 

Program," 12 Oct. 1964. 25 Fleming to George Trimble, Director, OMSF Advanced Manned Mission Program, 19 June 1967. 26 Seamans to Program Associate Administrators, "Advanced Mission Studies," 30 Aug. 1967. This actio

preceded by a memorandum from Fleming to Webb dated 22 Aug., recommending that he withdraw app

and by the discussion of advanced studies cited in note 15 above. On the MSC study contract for a Mars-

flyby, see Science 158 (24 Nov. 1967): 1028. 27 The Air Force approach to R&D planning is set forth in the Air Force Systems Command 375 ser

manuals. 28 NASA Headquarters Management Seminar, Unit III, "Budget Formulation and Execution" (Nov. 

p. 26. It should be noted that the 506 green was issued by Seamans to the program offices; they, in turn, 

a 506 white authorizing resources to the centers. 29 Wyatt to headquarters offices, 29 May 1963. Subject: Revision of Project Approval Document System

JO See note 28, p. 24. ' · 31 This paragraph is based on the following sources: Memorandum, Hilburn to Seamans, 30 Aug. 1965. Su

Establishment of Office of Finance; Program Review Document, Financial Management Program , 3

1966; and NASA, Management Effectiveness Report to the President of the United States for Fiscal Years 

and 1970, submitted to the Office of Management and Budget, 13 Oct. 1970, to meet the requirement 

Office's Circular A-44. 

n See Hilburn memorandum cited in note 31. 

"Wyatt to Paine, 10 Apr. 1969. Subject: NASA Cost Projections. 

" Ibid. In a study of twelve major weapons projects, Peck and Scherer found that average costs exceeded esti

by a factor of 3.2. Peck and Scherer, Weapons Acquisition Process, table 16.1, p. 429. 

" See note 33. 

,. Harvey Sapolsky, The Polaris Systems Development (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972), pp

246. 7 ' Erasmus Kloman, Case Study of the Surveyor Program (typed manuscript, June 1971), p. 216. 8 ' Memorandum, T. Hechler, Jr., to Fleming, 4 Mar. 1965. Subject: Cost Relationship Study, Project Ge

Also, interviews with Fleming, Bernard Maggin dated 1 Feb. 1977, and DeMarquis Wyatt, 9 Mar. 

9 ' Notes and daily logs of Cost Validation task force members. June 1963. 40 For an account <lf NASA costing techniques, see DeMarquis Wyatt, "Cost Models for Complex Progr

a lecture delivered at the National Conference on the Management of Aerospace Programs at the Univ

of Missouri, Columbia, 17 Nov. 1966, and issued as a NASA news release. 

288 
NOTES TO PAGES 159-167 

41 Memorandum, Dixon Forsythe to J. L. Mitchell, 27 May 1965. Forsythe was program manager of the 

Advanced Orbiting Solar Observatory. Emphasis in original. · 42 Assistant Administrator for Industry Affairs Bernhardt Dorman to Wyatt, 9 June 1967, citing a letter from 

von Braun of 27 March. 0 The principal management instructions were NPD 7000.1, "Authorization and Control of Agency Programs 

and All<>g~tion of Resources," issued 16 Mar. 1968; NPD 7121.1A, "Phased Project Planning," 2 May 1968; 

NHB 7121.2, "Phased Project Planning Guidelines," final draft, 28 Feb. 1968, issued Aug. 1968; and NMI 

7100.4, "Authorization and Control of Research and Development Programs, Projects, Other Activities, and 

Resources Related Thereto," 15 Aug. 1968. 44 As illustration of the confusion in defining and authorizing projects, consider the anomalies of facilities 

planning. To avoid the cumbersome authorization process, many centers funded their facilities out of R&D 

money by distinguishing between nonseverable facilities, which were funded out of "construction of facilities" 

(COF) money, and severable facilities, which could be funded out of R&D money. The flooring or heating 

ducts of a building cannot be severed from the building itself; the chairs and furniture can. A center could build 

a shell for $100 000 under COF and then install millions of dollars worth of equipment under R&D because 

the equipment was severable from the building in which it was contained. One reason for reestablishing the 

Facilities Office in May 1968 was to control such construction funding. 45 Transcript of Webb's remarks at meeting of Management Advisory Panel, 19 Apr. 1968, p. 58. 46 Exit interview with Harold Finger, 16 Apr. 1969, p. 24. 47 Finger cited a Centaur PAD sent up by OSSA. "Here we were in the middle of a budget reduction process. 

We were cutting money out of the Centaur program . .. and a PAD change comes in that includes a budget 

number for fiscal year 1970 that I know is higher than the one that we're going to be hand.ling. So I said I'm 

not going to sign the PAD. So the Office of Space Science and Applications got very upset. Well, we don't know 

that's the final number .... I said yes we do, you know darn well it isn't going to be the right number. And 

I said I'm not going to ask the Administrator. In fact, I won't allow the Administrator to sign something that 

he knows is wrong." See Finger exit interview, p. 32. 48 Ibid., p. 33. 49 This section is based on interviews with Frederick Bryant and Richard Stock (3 Feb. 1977) and Robert Rapp 

(11 Feb. 1977), all of OTDA, and Review of Tracking and Data Acquisition Program, hearings before the 

House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Aeronautics and Space Technology Subcommittee, 93rd 

Cong., 1st and 2d sess. (Oct. 1973-Jan. 1974). I have used the present tense for most of this section, since 

OTDA's current organization and operating philosophy are very close to what they were in the mid-1960s. 

so For background of the decision to build one large antenna, see testimony of DSN Director Eberhardt Rechtin, 

in House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Manned Space Flight Subcommittee, 1967 NASA Authorization, 89th Cong., 2d sess. (1966), pp. 762-763. 51 Source: Rapp interview. 52 See chapter 4, note 59. 53 Review of Tracking and Data Acquisition Program, p. 58. 

s. House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1964 NASA Authorization, 88th Cong., 1st sess. (1963), 

p. 1882. 55 See Edwin P. Hartman, Adventures in Research (NASA SP-4302, 1970), especially pp. 397, 399, 404"-407, 

411-412. 56 Finger to Ray Romatowski (Director, Organization and Management Planning Division), 22 May 1967. 

Subject: OART Management and Control System Proposal for SRT. 57 Richard L. Chapman et al., Project Management in NASA (NASA SP-324, 1973), pp. 28-30. 58 Program Review Document, Mission Analysis Division Programs, 21 Sept. 1967. 59 Information supplied by Assistant Associate Administrator for Center Operations Paul Cotton, 22 Feb. 1977. 

Cotton was Director of the Program and Resources Division from 1967 to 1970. 60 Memorandum, Bisplinghoff to OART Division Directors and Staff, 28 May 1964. Subject: Organizational 

Changes in OART. 61 See minutes of 3rd meeting of NASA Management Committee, 27-28 Oct. 1963, section on SRT -Revised 

Assumptions. 62 Memorandum, Associate Administrator for Advanced Research and Technology James Beggs to Finger, 

~~~196L , 63 Memorandum, Dr. Leo Packer (special assistant to Associate Administrator, OART) to Willis Shapley, 

7 Aug. 1969. Subject: Observations on OART. 64 See note 62 and Chapman, Project Management in NJ!SA, p. 41. 65 Principal sources for this section include a Program Review Document, Science and Applications Management, and an interview with Dr. Homer E. Newell, 1 Feb. 1977. 

289 
NOTES TO PAGES 167-180 

66 Norriss P. Hetherington, "Winning the Initiative: NASA and the U.S. Space Science Program," Pr

(Summer 1975): 105. 67 See briefing by Newell to Science Advisory Committee, 8 July 1966; Report of the Committee 

Administrator, 15 Aug. 1966; memorandum, Newell to Seamans, 20 Dec. 1966, commenting on the r

and Interim Response to the Report of the Ad Hoc Science Advisory Committee, 7 June 1967, 

incorporated most of Newell's criticisms. 68 Report on Advisory Boards, 15 Jan. 1968, p. 41. 69 Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, Scientists' Testimony on Space Goals, 88th Con

sess. (10-11 June 1963), especially comments of Dr. Philip Abelson at p. 11 and Prof. Martin Schwarz

at pp. 160-161. 70 See statement of Dr. John Naugle in Science and Applications Management, p. 46. 71 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Space Science and Applications Subcommittee, 1966 N

Authorization, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (1965), p. 1054. 72 Newell, draft of "Functions and Authorities of Program Managers and Project Managers in Office of 

Science and Applications Flight Programs," 10 Feb. 1966. This followed by one week a reorganizat

OSSA that established a Program Review and Resources Management division in each program office a

up a Manned Flight Experiments Office to work with OMSF. 

n See transcript of briefing for Webb by Goddard officials on OA0-1 failure, 4 Nov. 1966, p. 53. 74 Presentation by Goddard officials to NASA Headquarters management as part of an "Institutiona

Study," 12 June 1971, p. 83. 

"Sources: Newell interview and memorandum, Hilburn to Seamans, 21 July 1965, in which Hilburn sa

after a long discussion with Newell the consensus was to "remove Harry at once." And they did. 76 Science and Applications Management, p. 45. 77 The following sources have proved useful: the 1966 Apollo Program Development Plan and the 14-v

survey of Apollo Program Management issued by the Apollo Program Office, Nov. 1967-Jan. 1968. 78 Seamans exit interview, p. 53. 79 Open-ended missions "are designed to continue so long as astronauts' safety is not impaired, until a se

objectives are reached with the option at each step of terminating the mission." Statement of George M

House Science and Astronautics Committee, Apollo Program Pace and Progress, staff study for Subcom

on NASA Oversight, 90th Cong., 1st sess. (17 Mar. 1967), p. 3. 80 Seamans exit interview, pp. 115- 116. 81 Ibid., p. 115. 82 21st meeting of Manned Space Flight Management Council, 24 Sept. 1963. 

"'Apollo Program Office (KSC), Apollo Program Management, vol. 4, Kennedy Space Center (15 Jan. 

p. 3-1. 84 Apollo Program Office, Apollo Program Management, vol. 3, Marshall Space Flight Center (Dec. 

p. 1-2. 8' Astronautics and Aeronautics, 7963 (NASA SP- 4004, 1964), pp. 190, 420. 86 House Science and Astronautics Committee, 1965 NASA Authorization, 88th Cong., 2d sess. (1964), p

87 Gilruth to E. Z. Gray, 5 Aug. 1964. Emphasis added. 

88 Seamans to Program Associate Administrators, "Management Responsibilities for Future Manned 

Activities," 26 July 1966. 89 Although the evidence is not conclusive, the decision to develop the super~onic transport (SST) was pro

of this sort. The pressure for an SST program came from within Government rather than from th

aviation industry, which insisted that the Government foot the bill for proving the concept. The prime m

for an SST - the House Committee on Science and Astronautics, NASA, and FAA officials (togethe

DOD officials)- signed an agreement in June 1961 to study the feasibility of a supersonic transport, 

was two years before President Kennedy, in June 1963, authorized Congress to fund an SST progra

CHAPTER 7 

1 Senate Committee on Government Operations, Financial Management in the Federal Government

Cong., 1st sess. (13 Feb. 1961), p. 131. 2 Aaron Wildavsky, The Politics of the Budgetary Process (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1964), pp. 

57- 60. When this was published, the Budget Bureau had not yet metamorphosed into the Office of Ma

ment and Budget. 3 Downs, Inside Bureaucracy, p. 251. 

290 
NOTES TO PAGES 180-189 

• For a history of these and other proposals, see Financial Management in the Federal Government, and Joseph 

P. Harris, Congressional Control of Administration (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1964), 

pp. 104-127. 

s For an account of the Bureau's reorganization and its powers and authorities prior to 1970, see Lewis Fisher, 

Presidential Spending Power (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975), pp. 44-51, and Peter Woll, ed., 

Public Administration and Policy (New York: Harper and Row, 1966), Part III. 6 WilliamS. Beller, "Decision-Making in Washington," SpacejAeronautics (Dec. 1967): 83-98, and Donald 

F. Hornig, "The President's Scientist: A Private Diary," Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists (Apr. 1977): 62-64. 

'BOB staff paper, "FY 1966 NASA Budget Review," 12 Nov. 1964, p. 1-4. 1 House Government Operations Committee, Military Operations Subcommittee, Government Operations in 

Space, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (4 June 1965), p. 106. 9 House Science and Astronautics Committee, Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight, hearing on GAO Report 

on Analysis of Cost of Space Shuttle Program, 93rd Cong., 1st sess. (26 June 1973), p. VII. 10 As shown by NASA Administrator James C. Fletcher's reply to U.S. Comptroller General Elmer Staats, 

reprinted in ibid., pp. 94-97. 11 On NASA's use of cost-benefit and cost-effectiveness studies, see Senate Independent Offices Appropriations 

Subcommittee, Hearings-Part/, 93rd Cong., 1st sess. (1973), pp. 510-512. This includes NASA and GAO 

correspondence pertaining to such studies, and selected lists of cost-benefit studies at pp. 511, 513, and 

518-519. Note that the difference between cost-benefit and cost-effectiveness analyses is that the former are 

those "in which benefits are measurable in terms of dollars." The GAO study concluded that while "only 

certain NASA programs are susceptible to cost-benefit analysis involving dollar-measurable benefits ... we 

believe that all NASA programs are susceptible to cost-effectiveness analysis." Ibid., pp. 511-512. 12 NASA Assistant Administrator for Administration William Lilly to Elmer Staats, 16 Nov. 1967. 11 House Science and Astronautics Committee, Authorizing Appropnations to NASA, 89th Cong., 1st sess., Rep. 

No. 273 (3 May 1965), p. 118. 

,. Without citing an authority, Lewis Fisher has noted that $35 000 in R&D funds was set aside as a contingency 

fund for national security purposes. See Presidential Spending Power, pp. 207-208. This is apparently an 

erroneous reference to sec. I (f) of the 1969 and 1970 NASA Authorization Act, which permits the Administrator to use up to $35 000 in R&D appropriations "for scientific consultations or extraordinary 

expenses . .. and his determination shall be final and conclusive upon the accounting officers of the Government." This is the Administrator's "champagne money" and has nothing to do with national security. 

os NHB 7330.1, "Approval of Facility Projects" (July 1966), p. 25. 16 Paine to Speaker of the House, IS Jan. 1969, enclosing copy of draft bill to authorize appropriations for 

NASA. 

17 1966 NASA Authorization Act, sec. 4(3). Emphasis added. However, the act did provide that such programs 

might be funded if the Committee was notified in advance and gave approval. 18 Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 7966 NASA Authorization, pp. 947- 950. 19 Wyatt to William McCandless (Assistant Director for .Budget Review, BOB), 12 Mar. 1964. 20 Memorandum for the record by Adm. Rufus E. Rose (USN, Ret.), "General Management Involvement in 

Formal Budget Process," I Sept. 1965. 21 Donald Crabill (Economics, Science, and Technology Division, BOB) to BOB Director Charles Schultze, 

27 Oct. 1967. 22 BOB Director Robert Mayo to Paine, "1971 Budget Appeal Procedures,'' 20 Oct. 1969. 2' NASA staff paper (draft), "The NASA Programming Process," 24 Jan. 1966, p. 8. 24 Minutes of NASA Management Committee meeting, 17 Jan. 1966, and paper on "NASA Incremental 

Funding Study," 20 Apr. 1966. 2s Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, Space Launch Vehicles, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (26-

27 Jan. 1965), pp. 10- 17, 25-30. 26 Logsdon, Decision to Go to the Moon, p. 91. 27 Transcript of meeting of Webb, Seamans, and all the center directors, 28 Sept. 1966, p. 35. 28 PPBS generated an enormous literature between 1965 and the early 1970s. Besides the sources cited below, 

two compendia are especially useful: "Planning-Programming-Budgeting-System: A Symposium," Public 

Administration Review 26 ( 4) (Dec. 1966); and U.S. Congress, Joint Economic Committee, Subcommittee on 

Economy in Government, The Analysis and Evaluation of Public Expenditures: The PPB System, 3 vols., 90th 

Cong., 2d sess. (1969). 29 In a 21 June 1971 memorandum accompanying its Circular A-ll, the Office of Management and Budget 

stated that "agencies are no longer required to submit with their budget submissions the multi-year program 

and financing plans, program memoranda and special analytical studies . . . or the schedules . . . that reconcile information classified according to the program and appropriation structures." 

291 
NOTES TO PAGES 190-204 

30 This was Public Law 84-863 ( 1 Aug. 1956), for which see Financial Management in the Federal Govern

pp. 92-97. 31 Alain C. Enthoven and K. Wayne Smith, How Much is Enough? Shaping the Defense System, 196

(New York: Holt, Harper and Row, 1971), p. 25. 32 Harvey Sapolsky, The Polaris System Development, pp. 180-181. 33 Enthoven and Smith, How Much is Enough? p. 48. 34 Ibid., p. 52. 3s The phrase is Allan Schick's in his "A Death in the Bureaucracy: The Demise of Federal PPB," 

Administration Review, 33 (2) (Mar./ Apr. 1973): 146. 36 Milton Margolis and Stephen Barro, "The Space Program," in David Novick, ed., Program Budgeti

ed. (New York: Holt, 1969), pp. 125, 127. This essay is an attempt. to apply PPB techniques to NASA. A

the authors' proposals are the amalgamation of NASA and DOD space budgets, the introduction of 

Launch Capability category, and the elimination of aircraft technology from the budget. NASA official

understandably unenthusiastic about these proposals. 37 Shapley to William McCandless, Harry Rowen, Samuel Cohn, "Notes for discussion of approach for 

on proposed revisions to the budget process," 14 May 1965. This memorandum was written shortly 

Shapley transferred to NASA. 38 Novick, Program Budgeting, p. XIX. 39 Joon Chien Doh, The Planning-Programming-Budgeting System in Three Federal Agencies (New 

Praeger, 1971), p. 154. 

"' Webb to Schultze, 13 July 1966. 41 Doh, The Planning-Programming-Budgeting System, p. 155. 42 Schick, "A Death in the Bureaucracy," p. 148. 43 Richard R. Nelson, The Moon and the Ghetto: An Essay on Public Policy Analysis (New York: Norton, 

p. 34. 44 BOB Bulletin 66-3, "Planning-Programming-Budgeting," 12 Oct. 1965. More detailed guideline

issued as Bulletin 68-2, 18 July 1967, and Bulletin 68-9, 12 Apr. 1968. 4s See BOB memo cited in note 21 above. 46 Schultze and Califano to Johnson, 19 Aug. 1967. On 21 Aug. Johnson signed the bill and issued the stat

47 Schultze to Webb, 7 Aug. 1967. 48 Schick, "A Death in the Bureaucracy,'' p. 151. 49 Richard F. Fenno, Jr., The Power of the Purse: Appropriations Politics in Congress (Boston: Little, 

and Co., 1966), pp. 71-73. 

""Two other subcommittees deserve a passing mention: the Subcommittee on NASA Oversight, which, 

other things, investigated the Ranger 6 failure and the Apollo fire; and the Subcommittee on Science, Re

and Development, established in 1963 to examine the policy issues created by Federal R&D spending

subcommittee was chaired by Representative Emilio Q. Daddario (D-Conn.) from 1963 to 1970. 

Sl Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, Report on 1970 NASA Authorization, 91st Con

sess., Rep. No. 91-282 (26 June 1969), pp. 86-87, and authorization hearings for 1970, pp. 128-13

elimination of excess authorizations, see 1970 Authorization Act, sec. 1 (i); for prior notice of fa

spending, see sec. 1 (d). 

s2 Sec. 5 of 1964 and subsequent NASA authorization acts. 

S> Shapley to Wyatt, "NASA Responsiveness to House Reports," 18 May 1966. Report itself is dated 25 

Except where noted, all examples in this and the next paragraph are drawn from this paper. 

S4 James R. Kerr, "Congress and Space: Overview or Oversight?,'' in Nelson, The Politics of S

pp. 176-189. 

ss Murphy, Science, Geopolitics, and Federal Spending, pp. 207-210. 

so Ibid., p. 218. 

s7 Beller, "Decision-Making in Washington," p. 98. 

so Remarks of Congressman Joseph Karth (D-Minn.), Chairman, Space Science and Applications Su

mittee, in House Science and Astronautics Committee, 1964 NASA Authorization, 88th Cong., 1s

(1963), pp. 1662-1664. 

s• See note 27, p. 37. . 60 National Science Foundation, National Patterns of RO'D Resources: Funds and Manpower in the 

States, 1953-1976 (NSF 76-310), p. 1. 61 National Science Foundation, An Analysis of Federal RO'D Funding by Budget Function (NSF 71-25

62 Ibid., p. 24. 63 Ibid., p. 6. 

292 
NOTES TO PAGES 204-217 

"'James L. Penick, Jr., Carroll W. Pursell, Jr., et al., eds., The Politics of American Science, 1939 to the Present 

(Cambridge, MIT Press, 1972), p. 343 . 

., Charles L. Schultze, "Federal Spending: Past, Present and Future," in Charles L. Schultze and Henry Owen, 

eds., Setting National Priorities: The Next Ten Years (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1976), 

p. 335. 66 Analysis of Federal RO'D Spending, p. 2. 67 Ibid., p. 4. 68 Ibid., p. 11. 69 Data cited are from Fleming to Newell, 24 Oct. 1968. We do not touch on the related question of how the 

NASA budget might have been affected by changes in the budgets of other agencies, e.g., that portion of the 

Atomic Energy Commission for the jointly run Space Nuclear Propulsion Office. There were also programs 

funded as NASA line items that were to all intents and purposes in support of DOD, e.g.,, the XB-70 flight 

research program, at least part of the entry for "supersonic aircraft technology," and the item for "Special 

Support (OSS & A)" for NASA's "Limited Warfare Program" discussed in chapter 8. 711 Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1967 (NASA SP-4008, 1968), pp. 189-190. Also Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 1966 NASA Authorization, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (1965), pp, 605-606. 71 This is discl!-ssed in chapter 9. The Report of the Future Programs Task Group is printed in the Senate 

hearings cited in note 70, at pp. 1029-1102, with the Committee's criticisms at p. 1015. 72 NASA officials knew this quite well. At the Administrator's staff luncheon of 6 July 1966, it was agreed that 

" 'preeminence in space' has probably outlived its usefulness as a main argument to make in support of NASA 

programs. We are possibly entering a period where 'uses of space' should rather be emp.hasieed." From notes 

taken by NASA Executive Secretary Lawrence Vogel. 73 A memorandum from Seamans to Finger, the Program Associate Administrators, and other key headquarters 

officials, 15 Sept. 1967, announced that Saturn IB production would end with the sixteenth vehicle and that 

there would be no Saturn V production beyond the fifteenth in 1968. The final decision to discontinue Saturn V production was announced in Feb. 1970. Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1970 (NASA SP-4015, 1971 ), 

p. 37. 74 Another problem during the late 1960s was the exceptional length of the later stages of the budgetary cycle. 

The 1970 Independent Offices Appropriations Act was not signed by the President until26 November 1969. 

In August 1970 President Nixon vetoed the FY 1971 Independent Offices Appropriations bill, and the revised 

bill was not signed into law until 17 December. Because of the delays, NASA was under a "continuing 

resolution," an interim appropriation limiting the agency to the rate of operation of the previous fiscal year, 

effectively prohibiting new starts until appropriations were voted. 

CHAPTER 8 

1 Space Act, sec. 102(b) and 102(c) (6). 2 Willis H . Shapley, "United States Space Program," in Hugh Odishaw, ed., The Challenge of Space (Chicago: 

Praeger, 1962), p. 166. 

'Milton Rosen, "Military Significance of Surveyor," 15 June 1966. Rosen was senior scientist, NASA Office 

of Defense Affairs (changed to Office of DOD and Interagency Affairs in Jan. 1968), 1963-1972. 

• Michael H. Armacost, The Politics of Weapons Innovation: The Thor-Jupiter Controversy (New York: 

Columbia University Press, 1969), p. 231. 

' House Government Operations Committee, Military Affairs Subcommittee, Government Operations in 

Space, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (4 June 1965), p. 54. 6 For a history of Project Advent, see House Government Operations Committee, Military Operations Subcommittee, Satellite Communications (Military-Civil Roles and Relationships), 89th Cong., 1st sess. (17 March 

1965), pp. 123-158, from which this account is drawn. 7 Ibid., p. 16. 8 Ibid., p. 17. 

• Government Operations in Space, p. 103. 1" Satellite Communications (Military-Civil Roles . .. ), pp. 13-15. 11 Theodore W. Bauer and Harry B. Yoshpe, Defense Organization and Management, (Washington, D.C.: 

Industrial College of the Armed Forces, 1971), pp. 72-73. 12 Satellite Communications (Military-Civil Roles . . . ), pp. 148, 152-153. 

"This was DOD Directive 5160.32, reprinted in House Science and Astronautics Committee, Defense Space 

Interests, 87th Cong., 1st sess. (1961), pp. 2-3. 

293 
NOTES TO PAGES 217-225 

14 Testimony of Assistant Secretary of Defense (Comptroller) Charles J. Hitch in ibid., p. 82. 

"Bauer and Yoshpe, Defense Organization and Management , p. 127. 16 DOD Directive 5030.18, 24 Feb. 1962. Subject: Department of Defense Support of National Aeronauti

Space Administration. 11 A list of eighty-eight major NASA-DOD agreements for the period I Oct. 1958-31 Dec. 1964, with 

descriptions of each, is printed in Government Operations in Space , pp. 123-133. Except where 

agreements for that period discussed in the text are excerpted from this list. 18 The 195<1 agreement states, "When either agency places a contract through the other, reimbursement is l

to direct costs . . . . when either assigns a contract to the other for administration, the direct costs involv

reimbursable .... construction undertaken by DOD for NASA is charged directly to NASA funds; 

either agency is a tenant on an installation of the other, all direct costs attributable to such tenanc

reimbursed, but rent or depreciation are not charged for the use of each other's facilities." House Gover

Operations Committee, Military Affairs Subcommittee, Government Operations in Space, p. 101. 19 The full text of this agreement is reprinted in House Science and Astronautics Committee, Subcommit

NASA Oversight, The NASA-DOD Relationship, 88th Cong., 2d sess. (26 March 1964), pp. 10-11. 20 Government Operations in Space, p. 126. 21 Ibid., p. 129. For the earlier agreement of 24 Aug. 1961, seep. 127. 22 Provisions of the Gemini agreement are in Adm. W. Fred Boone (USN, Ret.), NASA Office of Defense A

The First Five Years (NASA HHR-32, Dec. 1970), pp. 83-84. Hereafter cited as NASA Office of D

Affairs. 

"Aviation Week (22 July 1963): 25. 24 NASA Office of Defense Affairs, p. 28. 

~ Ibid., p. 35. 26 House Government Operations Committee, Military Affairs Subcommittee, Missile and Space Ground 

part Operations, 89th Cong., 2d sess. (21 Mar. 1966), p. 28. 27 Astronautics and Aeronautics, 7964 (NASA SP-4005, 1965}, pp. 430-431. 28 The National Range Division was established in January 1964 as a division of the Air Force Sy

Command and was charged with planning and management of the Eastern Test Range and that port

the Western Test Range previously transferred from the Navy to the Air Force. The commander 

National Range Division was designated as DOD's point of contact with NASA for manned spac

support. For details, see NASA, Astronautics and Aeronautics, 7964, pp. 3, 164; and House Gover

Operations Committee, Military Affairs Subcommittee, Missile and Space Ground Support, p. 18. 29 Harvey Sapolsky, The Polaris System Development (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972), p

:oo See NASA Office of Defense Affairs, pp. 122-162, for an extremely detailed account of the funding issu

pp. 163-195 for NASA and DOD policy statements. 1 " In practice, most of DOD's space launches, especially those using the Titan III, took place at the Wester

Range. The breakdown of the NASA-DOD workload at the Eastern Test Range in 1966 was about fifty

even though three-quarters of the launches there were missiles. House Government Operations Comm

Missiles and Space Ground Support Operations, pp. 20-21. 2 " On the funding of NASA laboratories, see Webb to Schultze (9 Aug. 1967}, which sets forth the NASA po

on reimbursement for services at the Eastern Test Range. NASA's viewpoint on supporting other agen

set forth in end. B. 

:o:o Ibid., end. A, p. 7. 

:o. NASA Office of Defense Affairs, p. 144. 

:OS Ibid., p. 150. 

:16 Ibid., p. 205. 

" See statement of OTDA Director Edmond C. Buckley in Senate Committee on Aeronautical and 

Sciences, 7966 NASA Authorization, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (1965), p. 447. 

""This was the position of the House Government Operations Committee in Missile and Space Ground Sup

p. 49. 

:o• NASA Office of Defense Affairs, pp. 207-209. 1 " For details of the agreement, see ibid., pp. 74-76; Government Operations in Space, p. 131; and Missi

Space Ground Support , pp. 37-38. 41 See note 37, p. 448. 42 NASA Office ofDefense Affairs, p. 66. Emphasis in original. 4" See, e.g., Webb's statement in Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, Space Launch Ve

89th Cong., 1st sess. (26-27 Jan. 1965}, pp. 17-18. 44 PSAC, Report of the Ad Hoc Booster Panel on Large Rocket Boosters for Space Exploration, 5 June 

294 
NOTES TO PAGES 226-233 

"Summary Report, NASA-DOD Large Launch Vehicle Planning Group, 24 Sept. 1962. This was also known 

as the Golovin report, after Nicholas Golovin, NASA cochairman, and subsequently a staff member of the 

Office of Science and Technology. One of the most important results of the group's work was its October 1961 

recommendation that DOD proceed to develop the Titan III launch vehicle to meet its own and NASA's needs. 46 On the history of LLVPG, see foreword to LLVPG Summary Report, and Courtney Brooks et al., Chariots 

for Apollo: A History of Lunar Spacecraft (comment draft, Aug. 1976), pp. 80-87. 47 It should be noted that the Webb-Gilpatric agreement applied only to development of new vehicles or stages, 

not to studies of proposed improvements. How far it applied to modification of existing stages•was less certain. 

The usual procedure was for AACB cochairmen to decide whether such improvements came within the terms 

of the agreement, and then to invoke it or not, as the case determined. 48 These were the four-stage Jupiter C; the improved Jupiter C, known as Juno II; the Thor-Able, which 

combined the Thor booster with the second and third stages of the Vanguard; the Thor-Hustler, which had 

a liquid-propellant upper stage using the Hustler engine; the Atlas intercontinental ballistic missile; and the 

Atlas-Able, combining the Atlas and Vanguard second and third stages. The only nonmilitary vehicle, the 

Vanguard, was built by the Navy for the International Geophysical Year. From Homer E. Newell, Space 

Science in NASA , Ch. 11, work in progress. 

•• Statement of Deputy Secretary of Defense Cyrus Vance in Space Launch Vehicles, p. 43. 50 See, e.g., minutes of 29th AACB meeting, 28 Aug. 1964; minutes of 30th AACB meeting, zo,Oct. 1964; and 

paper by Rosen, "Statement of Launch Vehicle Cost Effectiveness," 26 Jan. 1965, especially pp. 2-3. 

"See Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 7966 NASA Authorization, pp. 605-606, and 

Space Launch Vehicles, pp. 124-125, for a chronology of the large-solid-motor program. 52 Space Launch Vehicles, pp. 16-18, 28-30. 53 On guidelines for launch vehicle study, see Seamans and Brown to Chairman, AACB Launch Vehicle Panel, 

"Guidelines for Study of NASA and DOD Launch Vehicle Requirements," 19 June 1964. For interim 

summary of the study, see Hilburn to Seamans, "Brief Summary of Findings to Date on Launch Vehicle Cost 

Study," 4 Nov. 1964. The unclassified portion of the final report was summarized by Assistant Air Force 

Secretary (R&D) Alexander Flax in Space Launch Vehicles, pp. 81-89, 95. 

,. Space Launch Vehicles, pp. 8-9. 

" Government Operations in Space, p. 100. Of 900 space medicine tasks reviewed, 335 were found valid, 55 were 

canceled, 2 were assigned further examination, and 488 "were considered outside the scope of mutual 

interagency decision since they were necessary to the peculiar needs of the respective agency." Ibid. 56 "NASA/DOD Coordination of FY 1970 Facility Projects," encl. 1 of minutes of 49th AACB meeting, 30 Jan. 

1969. 

57 Minutes of 50th AACB meeting, 29 May 1969, item 4. 

'"Minutes of 51st AACB meeting, 3 Oct. 1969, NASA Status Report to AACB. 59 Ibid., p. 5 of minutes. 60 See especially the memorandum for the record prepared by Albert J . Evans, Acting NASA Director of 

Aeronautics (OART), "XB-70 Research Program . .. ," 27 Feb. 1964. One passage (crossed out in pencil) 

stated that "the Air Force had come to the conclusion that the XB-70 can no longer be justified on the basis 

of a weapon system, and believed that a study should be made to insure that the large investment of the Air 

Force in the program would produce research results of the maximum value possible." On 1967 agreement, 

see Astronautics and Aeronautics, 7967 (NASA SP-4008, 1968), pp. 74-75. 61 On this program, see NASA Office of Defense Affairs, pp. 249- 253; Astronautics and Aeronautics, 7967, 

p. 366; and Boone to Seamans, "Assumption of Your Limited Warfare Support Role by Dr. Adams,'' 7 Dec. 

1967. 62 NASA Office of Defense Affairs, p. 9. 63 The NASA position is set forth in a "talking paper" on Project Gemini drafted by Boone,'9 Jan. 1963. 64 WebbtoSeamans, 18Jan. 1963. 6 ' Barton C. Hacker and James Grimwood, On the Shoulders of the Titans: A History of Project Gemini 

(manuscript draft, Oct. 1973), p. 208. 66 Webb to Johnson, 30 July 1963. 67 Webb to NASA Executive Officer Col. R. P. Young (USA), 1 Mar. 1963. 68 New York Herald Tribune, "The Death of the Dyna-Soar Project," 26 Dec. 1963. 69 MissilejSpace Daily, 11 Dec. 1963, p. 4. · 70 Donald Hornig, PSAC subcommittee chairman, to President's Science Advisor Jerome Wiesner, "PSAC 

Space Panels' Evaluation of the Requirements for a Manned Space Station," 22 Nov .. 1963. 7 1 Draft "Discussion Paper" on MOL and extended Apollo, forwarded from Shapley to Seamans, 19 Nov. 1964, 

pp. 5, 6, 7:. 

295 
NOTES TO PAGES 233-242 

72 Ibid., p. 7. 73 Missiles and Rockets, 16 Dec. 1963, p. 15. 74 See NASA MOL paper summarized in Space Daily, 6Jan. 1964, p. 20. A:so memorandum prepared 

David Jones (USAF), Deputy Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight (Programs), "M

gressional Hearings," Jan. 1966; and memorandum prepared by William Schneider, Director, Apol

cations Program, "Answers to Questions from Congressional Hearings," 18 Mar. 1969. 75 See attachment to memorandum, Boone to Seamans, "NASA-DOD Coordination with Respect to t

Program," 16 Nov. 1965. 76 Memorandum, E. Z. Gray, Director, Advanced Manned Missions Program, to Mueller, "Spac

Programs," 31 Aug. 1964. 77 See, for instance, the draft responses to questions circulated by Vice President Hubert Humphrey 

Council meeting, 9 July 1965. Moreover, one year after the MOL was finally approved, a top of

Webb at a meeting of NASA center directors that "I think that it is the military that needs to justify th

and they could be put in a rather awkward position with respect to MOL. MOL is a rather poor 

at best and they have never justified it properly. Now, you haven't wanted to attack them ... becau

think McNamara is a nice guy to attack, he is rough." Webb: "Well, hell, he has attacked MOL w

I have." Official: "Well, my point is that MOL is a very poor program. At one time it would hav

halfway decent program but it is way out of date now .. . . I was trying to get rid of a program tha

rid of later which was no good, Dyna-Soar, because I said that program was no good a long time a

it right now that MOL is no good. They are always too late." Transcript of tape of meeting o

changeover,_?.(l..§.ept. 1966, pp. 59-60. 78 See draft responses to question of why Saturn/ Apollo was not being used for MOL, Space Council 

9 July 1965. 79 Gordon's memorandum is summarized in memorandum from Boone to Seamans cited in note 75. 

the "Discussion Paper" cited in note 71 had been drafted only three weeks earlier. 80 Aviation Week and Space Technology (7 Dec. 1964): 16. 81 NASA News Release, "Decisions on Manned Orbiting Laboratory and Other Matters," 25 Jan. 

82 Government Operations in Space, p. 17. 83 Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1965 (NASA SP-4006, 1966), p. 396. 84 Another reason for the delay was a struggle between the Central Intelligence Agency and the Air F

who would exercise mission control. Donald E. Fink, "CIA Control Bid Slowed Decision on MOL," 

Week, 20 Sept. 1965. The charge was officially denied by the Air Force on 5 Oct. Astronautics a

nautics, 1965, p. 463. 85 Information supplied by Willis Shapley. 86 Hilburn to Seamans, "MOL Decision," 24 June 1975. 87 Missile and Space Ground Support , p. 46. 88 Boone to Webb, Seamans, Dryden, 12 July 1963, p. 3. 89 Sapolsky, Polaris System Development, p. 204. 90 Boone memorandum cited in note 88, p. 4. 

CHAPTER 9 

1 U.S. Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, Policy Planning for Aeronautical Rese

Development, 89th Cong., 2d sess. (19 May 1966), p. 8. 2 For a summary of research on space stations up to 1969, see Compilation of Papers Presented at t

Station Technology Symposium (NASA Langley Research Center, 11-13 Feb. 1969), especially the 

MSC studies by Maxime Faget and Edward Oiling, pp. 43-98, and the historical sketch of Marsha

at pp. 99-120. 3 Ibid., and Space Station Requirements Steering Committee, The Needs and Requirements for a 

Space Station-Summary Report, 15 Nov. 1966. 4 Boone, NASA Office of Defense Affairs, pp. 324-325. 5 Task Team on Management and Integrated Information Systems, "Outline of Interim Report," 16 S

pp. 11-2/11-3. See also draft of "The NASA Programming Process," 24 Jan. 1966, p. 2. 6 Frank W. Anderson, Jr., Orders of Magnitude: A History of NACA and NASA, 1915-1976 (NASA 

1976), p. 65: 7 Arthur L. Levine, The Future of the U.S. Space Program (New York: Praeger, 1975), pp. 118-1

296 
NOTES TO PAGES 243-254 

8 The group's s·ummary report is reprinted in Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 1966 

NASA Authorization, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (1965), pp. 1029-1102. The President's letter is at ibid., 

pp. 1016-1017, and Webb's interim replies are at pp. 1017-1029. 9 Ibid., p. 1015. 10 Transcript of tape of briefing on Apollo Extensions Systems, 22 Sept. 1965, pp. 48, 50-51 , 52-53. 11 See e.g. "Ground Rules for Apollo Extension," 20 Oct. 1964, which were confirmed by Seamans' memorandum for the record, "Apollo Program Decision-Manned Apollo Flights and Apollo Applications Program 

Plans," 17 May 1967. 12 E. Z. Gray to Gilruth, 18 Aug. 1964. 

"Mueller to Francis Smith, 28 Apr. 1964, and Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, National 

Space Goals for the Post-Apollo Period, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (23-25 Aug. 1965), pp. 76-104. 14 Mueller to Charles Townes, Chairman, Science and Technolpgy Advisory Committee, 14 J an. 1966. 15 W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson, History of Skylab (Comment edition, May 1977), pp. 53-55. 16 Gray to Gilruth, 18 Aug. 1964. 17 Compton and Benson, History of Skylab, pp. 112-115. 

'".Minutes of Science and Technology Advisory Committee (STAC) meeting at JPL, 30 Oct. 1964, p. 3. 19 See speech of Dr. Harry Hess to a joint PSAC/ STAC meeting at KSC, 20 May 1969. 20 Compton and Benson, History of Skylab, pp. 112-115. 21 Adams, Mueller, and Newell to Seamans, Dec. ? 1965, and summary minutes of Planning Coordination 

Steering Group, 17 Jan. 1966. 22 This was the design approved by Seamans on 29 Aug. 1966. For further details on the origins of the orbital 

workshop, see Compton and Benson, History of Skylab, chapters 2-4. 23 NASA Program Review, Apollo Applications Program (15 Nov. 1966), p. 21. 24 Compton and Benson, History of Skylab, pp. 186-187. 25 "Manned Space Flight: Summary of Roles and Missions Agreements," Aug. 1966. 26 Newell and Cortright, 13 June 1966. Subject: NASA Future Program Planning. 27 House Committee on Government Operations, Military Operations Subcommittee, Missile and Space Ground 

Support Operations, 89th Cong., 2d sess. (21 March 1966), pp. 46-47. 28 Schultze to President Johnson, 1 Sept. 1966. Also, memorandum for the record by Wyatt, 27 July 1965. 

Subject: Director's Review with Bureau of the Budget Uuly 26). 29 This paragraph is based on a NASA report, "Evolution of Advisory Counsel Structure and Practice," 15 Jan. 

1968, prepared by a task force under the Office of Organization and Management. 30 Newell to Webb, 6 Oct. 1965. 

"Ray Romatowski (Director, Organization and Management Planning Division) to Harold Finger, 21 Apr. 

1967. 32 Bruce Murray (CalTech) to PSAC Space Panel, 10 Apr. 1967. Subject: NASA Science Management in the 

Planetary Program. Murray succeeded William Pickering as JPL Director in 1976. . 

"On NASA's reasons for rejecting the Ramsey report, see Newell to Seamans, 20 Dec. 1966; and " Interim 

Response to the Report of the Ad Hoc Science Advisory Committee," 7 June 1967. 34 The remainder of this paragraph and the whole of the next are based on Barry Rutizer, "The Lunar and 

Planetary Missions Board" (NASA HHN-138, 30 Aug. 1976). 35 Ibid., p. t5: 36 Newell, "Notes on Science in NASA," 14 Nov. 1969, pp. 5-6. Newell, of course, was describing a position 

with which he did not agree. 37 Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1966, pp. 17, 39, 53. 38 Hess to Webb, 29 July 1966. 39 President's Science Advisory Committee (PSAC), "The Space Program in the Post-Apollo Period," Feb. 1967, 

p. 14. 40 Ibid. 41 Ibid., p. 16. . 42 Quotation is from Newell, "Notes on Science in NASA," pp. 8-9. PSAC criticism of the Apollo Telescope 

Mount is in "The Space Program in the Post-Apollo Period," appendix C, especially pp. 73-74. 43 PSAC Space Science and Technology Panel, "U.S. Strategy for Space Research and Exploration: Fiscal Year 

1969 Program Decisions," 19 Dec. 1967 . 

.. Milton Rosen to Seamans, 2 Sept. 1966. Rosen, the senior scientist in the Office of Defense Affairs, was the 

NASA observer to the PSAC space panels. 45 PSAC Space Science and Technology Panel, "U.S. Strategy for Space Research and Exploration," p. 28. 46 Finger to Romatowski, 28 Dec. 1967. 47 Webb to Finger, 28 June 1968. 

297 
NOTES TO PAGES 254-265 

48 Milton Rosen, "Information on NASA Activities with Respect to Titan Launch Vehicles ... . "24 J

49 Newell to Wobb, 22 Dec. 1967. 50 Draft memorandum by Milton Rosen, "Launch Vehicle Working Group: Task Definition," 17 A

See also a memorandum by Alexander Flax, chairman of the AACB Launch Vehicle Panel, 11 J

"Memorandum by Rosen, 21 Mar. 1969. 52 Senate CQmmittee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, Policy Planning for Aeronautical Res

Development, 89th Cong., 2d sess. (May 1966). 

"Bernard Moritz (Acting Associate Administrator for Organization and Management) to NASA 

Administrator George Low, 23 Dec. 1969. Low had been sworn in as Deputy Administrator th

earlier. 

"The members of the Post-Apollo Advisory Group were Floyd Thompson, chairman; Edmond Buckl

Associate Administrator for Tracking and Data Acquisition, vice chairman; Goddard Director Jo

KSC Director Kurt Debus; LRC Deputy Director Charles Donlan; MSC Director Robert Gilrut

Mathews, Director for Apollo Applications; George Mueller; John Naugle, Associate Administrato

Science and Applications; LRC Director Abe Silverstein; and MSFC Director Wernher von Braun

assistant was Ray Kline, and James Long was executive secretary. 

" Newell, paper on "NASA Planning System," 13 May 1968. 56 "PSG G11idelines: Center Participation in NASA PPB Process," 26 Mar. 1968. 57 "NASA Planning System" p. 1. 58 Some of the more important groups included the Space Science Board of the National Academy o

the Lunar and Planetary Missions Board and.the Astronomy Missions Board; the Post-Apollo 

Group chaired by Floyd Thompson; the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning, a NASA group 

Wilmot Hess; the Manned Space Flight Science and Technology Advisory Committee; a Saturn 

study group directed by Douglas Lord of OMSF; and a NASA Life Sciences Directors Group. T

adopted from minutes of the STAC meeting at KSC (27-28 Mar. 1968), pp. 4-5. 59 On the role of Bellcomm in supporting the PCG, see memorandum from W. G. Stroud to Newel

1968. Stroud, who had been the Nimbus project manager at Goddard, was PSG secretary during 

planning cycle. 6" Minutes of executive session of ST AC, 12 Oct. 1968. 6 1 Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1968 (NASA SP- 4010, 1969), p. 213. 62 "Post-Apollo Advisory Group: Summary of Proceedings" (20 July 1968), p. 13. 63 See Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1969 (NASA SP-4014), p. 167. 64 Paine to Presidential Science Adviser Lee DuBridge, 6 May 1969. Emphasis in original. 65 Minutes of STAC meeting at NASA Headquarters, 22-23 Mar. 1969. 66 Briefing for the Apollo Executives Group by LeRoy Day at KSC, 15.July 1969, p. 26. Day was 

of a group responsible for developing material for a report on space shuttles to the President's S

Group. 

67 NASA News Release, "AAP Orbital Workshop," 22 July 1969, and Compton and Benson, History 

pp. 297-302. 68 See source cited in note 66, pp. 34-35. 69 Newell, memorandums for the record, 18 Nov. 1968 and 11 Dec. 1968. 7° For NASA reports prepared for the STG, see "America's N«;xt Decade in Space" and "Goals and 

for America's Next Decades in Space," both dated Sept. 1969. 71 Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1969, p. 224. 72 President's Space Task Group, "The Post-Apollo Space Program: Directions for the Future" (Se

pp. 19- 23. 

"Thomas O'Toole, "Nixon Rejects Big Outlay for Space in '70s," Washington Post (11 Jan. 197

74 Newell to Low, 9 Feb. 1970, p. 5. Subject: Evolution of NASA's Long-Range Planning. 

" Ibid., pp. 4-5. 76 Seamans to Mueller, 20 July 1967. 77 Briefing by Newell for the Administrator's Management Advisory Panel, 25 Oct. 1968, pp. 40- 4

78 Newell to Low, 9 Feb. 1970, p. 3. 79 Moritz to Low, 23 Dec. 1969. 80 See especially his memorandum to Newell and Paine, 18 June 1968, and the summary of note

discussion with the Administrator's Management Advisory Panel, 16 Sept. 1969. 81 Moritz to Low, 23 Dec. 1969. 82 Ad Hoc NASA Manpower Utilization Committee, "Considerations on the Management of Man

NASA," 8 Sept. 1966, p. 4. 

298 
NOTES TO PAGES 265-273 

"'This paragraph is based on a briefing by Goddard officials for the Associate Administrator for Organization 

and Management, 12 June 1971, one of a number held at the centers as part of an "Institutional Base Study." 

•• Ibid., p. 47. 

CHAPTER 10 

1 Raymond Bauer et al., Second-Order Consequences: A Methodological Essay on the Impact of Technology 

(Cambridge: MIT Press, 1969), p. 21. 2 For examples of the "legislative veto," see Joseph P. Harris, Congressional Control of Administration (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1964), chap. 8. 1 Harvey Sapolsky, The Polaris System Development (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972), p. 244. 

• Summary report of "General Management Discussion of Policy and Management Matters During the 

General Management Program Review," 22 Sept. 1964. 5 William J. Normyle, "Post-Apollo Space Plan Drafted," Aviation Week & Space Technology 81 (21 Oct. 

1968): 26. 6 Alan Dean and staff of Federal Aviation Administration, "The Decentralization of the Federal Aviation 

Agency," pp. 77-78. This unpublished study was presented as the subject of the third meeting ( 19 June 1968) 

of a study group of the National Academy of Public Administration. 7 From notes of Mueller's discussion with the Administrator's Management Advisory Panel, 16 Sept. 1969. 8 On the analogy between the space program and social welfare programs, see Richard R. Nelson, The Moon 

and the Ghetto: An Essay on Public Policy Analysis (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1977). 

299 

Appendix A 

A Note on Sources 

No one who investigates segments of NASA's history will underestimate the 

difficulty of finding out what happened and why. Particularly in the study 

of organization and management, the researcher is pretty much on his own. 

Organization charts and management instructions are the visible tip of an immense mass of submerged documentation. Researchers who enjoy the thrill of the 

chase will find themselves fully occupied, and not least among their problems will 

be locating primary sources. They will have to contend with the sources' dispersal 

throughout headquarters, center offices, and the Federal Records Centers to 

which they are eventually retired; the absence of catalogues or data retrieval 

systems comparable to those maintained by NASA for indexing and classifying 

aerospace literature; and the lack of uniformity in those records inventories that 

are available. There has never been a central file or filing system at NASA 

Headquarters. The responsibility for maintaining, inventorying, and retiring 

records rests with each office. The only general guide to NASA internal documentation is GSA form 135, which every Federal agency fills out before retiring 

records. The same caution applies to these forms as to the documents they describe: some are detailed and precise, others are cursory at best. 

These deficiencies are not ameliorated by the published material. When one 

has eliminated promotional literature, spaceflight stories "as told to" Able and 

Ham, and the kind of learned lumber that spares the reader no smallest detail, one 

is left with a residue of works that attempt to deal with the space program in a 

scholarly way. Yet, with one exception, no book tries to get the whole of NASA 

between two covers. The exception, Frank W. Anderson, Jr.'s Orders of Magnitude (NASA SP-4403, 1976), is brief-less than 100 pages-concise, well 

written, and one of very few works that treat the histories of NACA and NASA 

together. But no work that was prepared as a chapter for a bicentennial history 

of public works in the United States can claim to be definitive. In short, an essay 

on NASA administrative history must draw on a multitude of sources without 

relying too heavily on any one of them. 

301 
APPENDIX A 

There remain the periodic official reports on U.S. space activities. Thre

these, sponsored by NASA, may be ranked in ascending order of usefulness

1. The twenty-two semiannual reports issued by NASA from 1959 thro

1969. They provide brief summaries of agency programs and policies, w

little comment or analysis. 

2. The annual report of the President to the Congress on U.S. aeronautical 

space activities. Originally prepared by the Space Council before it 

abolished in 1973, the "President's report" has been the responsibility of 

NASA History Office since 1975. Each report deals with aeronautics 

astronautics, agency by agency. Although more than half of the report co

NASA and DOD, there are also sections on such unlikely agencies as 

Department of Agriculture, the Department of State, and the U.S. A

Control and Disarmament Agency. Each chapter is prepared by the age

in question. 

3. The Astronautics and Aeronautics (A&As) chronologies prepared by 

NASA History Office. There are separate volumes for each year since 1

and at the time of writing (October 1979) the series was complete thro

197 4. A&As are enormous compendia of facts culled from newspapers, tr

journals, congressional hearings, and agency press releases. Their very 

of system adds to their value. Much of the information included is har

come by elsewhere, and much of it has a broader bearing than the volum

title would imply. Each volume offers extensive coverage of U.S. sci

policy, international aspects of the space program, and announcement

NASA and DOD prime contract awards. Used with an awareness of t

limitations, A&As give remarkably full coverage of aspects of the sp

program for which printed sources are available. 

Apart from interviews, congressional hearings, and the sources mentio

the research on which this book is based rests principally on two collections

files of the NASA History Office at NASA Headquarters in Washington, D

and the NASA documents housed at the Federal Records Center in Suitl

Maryland. There is no need here to describe the · resources of these collecti

Alex Roland's Guide to Research in_NASA History (2d ed., NASA History Of

Nov. 1977) covers the ground most adequately. Rather, I would like to men

the ways in which I have used the· material in an administrative history o

agency as large and diversified as NASA. 

One limitation is the fragmentary quality of the sources. The reader 

expects the documents to deal with large subjects in a large way will be di

pointed. Their value consists in their confirmation of particular facts; as. con

on other documents, and as bases for presentations of agency programs that w

entered into the annual congressional authorization hearings. Occasional

source gives an historical account of specific programs or organizational enti

examples include staff papers on NASA excepted positions, on the rationale o

Apello engineering support contracts, on NASA responses to recommendation

302 
A NOTE ON SOURCES 

the House Science and Astronautics Committee, and on executive recruitment. 

The program reviews held for Webb fall into the same category. However, such 

papers, most of which were never circulated outside the agency, are the exception. 

The gap between official statements of policy and internal decision making is often 

uncomfortably wide, and that gap is only partly closed by internal documents, 

interviews, and presentations before NASA's authorization and appropriations 

committees. To a degree, the historian's terms of references are bounded by the 

evidence; I have tried to deal with problem areas for which inadequate supporting 

documentation exists. 

A special case is presented by the_ tape recordings stored at Suitland. In 

1966-1967 several dozen management meetings were taped. While the purpose 

of the recordings is not entirely clear, most seem to have been prepared as 

reference material for edited transcripts and-given Webb's strong interest in the 

study of public administration-as source material for studies such as this book. 

The tapes run from forty-five minutes to three hours and cover most of NASA's 

substantive program reviews, as well as strategy sessions attended by NASA 

senior officials. · Few transcripts are available, and most of the tapes have been 

unused and unheard since they were sent to Suitland a decade ago. Their value 

is less in disclosing previously unknown facts than in giving a remarkable glimpse 

of the give-and-take of NASA decision making at the highest level. We hear 

Webb, Mueller, and Phillips in a dry-run rehearsal for a congressional hearing 

in executive session on the Apollo fire. We hear Edgar Cortright briefing Webb 

on the Voyager program and explaining how the program would be parceled out 

among the centers. As another example, the briefing held for Webb on negotiations for renewal of NASA's contract with JPL is a franker account of NASA 

relations with the laboratory than anything NASA would have cared to submit in 

public hearings. Apart from the notorim,1s exception of the Nixon tapes, the NASA 

tapes- are a unique record of the decisions made by senior Federal officials. Not 

all the tapes are as valuable as the three just cited. But as a whole, they are an 

unusual and almost unknown historical resource, and it would be a service to 

scholars to have the best of them transcribed and edited. 

303 

Appendix B 

Abbreviations and Acronyms Cited in Text* 

AACB Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating Board 

ADP Automatic Data Processing (Equipment) 

AO Administrative Operations 

ARPA Advanced Research Projects Agency (DOD) 

ATM Apollo Telescope Mount 

BOB U.S. Bureau of the Budget 

COF Construction of Facilities 

CPFF Cost-Plus-Fixed-Fee 

esc U.S. Civil Service Commission 

DHEW U.S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare 

DOD U.S. Department of Defense 

DOT U.S. Department of Transportation 

DSN Deep Space Network 

EEO Equal Employment Opportunity 

FAA Federal Aviation Agency (or Administration) 

FY Fiscal Year 

GAO U.S. General Accounting Office 

GE General Electric Corporation 

JPL Jet Propulsion Laboratory 

KSC Kennedy Space Center 

LOR Lunar Orbit Rendezvous 

• This list omits abbreviations and acronyms cited only in the paragraph in which they are identified. 

305 
APPENDIX B 

MOL Manned Orbiting Laboratory (DOD) 

MSC Manned Spacecraft Center 

MSF Manned Space Flight 

NACA National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics 

NASA National Aeronautics and Space Administration 

NERVA Nuclear Engine for Rocket Vehicle Application 

NMI NASA Management Instruction 

NSF National Science Foundation 

OAO Orbiting Astronomical Observatory (NASA) 

OART Office of Advanced Research and Technology (NASA) 

OMB Office of Management and Budget 

OMSF Office of Manned Space Flight (NASA) 

OSSA Office of Space Science and Applications (NASA) 

OTDA Office of Tracking and Data Acquisition (NASA) 

PAD Project Approval Document 

PCG Planning Coordination Group (NASA) 

PCSG Planning Coordination Steering Group (NASA) 

PERT Program Evaluation and Review Technique 

PFP Program and Financial Plan 

POP Program Operating Plan 

PPBS Planning-Programming-Budgeting System 

ppp Phased Project Planning 

PSAC President's Science Advisory Committee 

PSG Planning Steering Group (NASA) 

R&D Research and Development 

RFP Request for Proposal 

RlF Reduction in Force 

SEB Source Evaluation Board 

SRT Supporting Research and Technology 

SSASC Space Science and Applications Steering Committee (NASA) 

SST Supersonic Transport 

STAC Science and Technology Advisory Committee (NASA) 

STG (President's) Space Task Group 

TIE Technical Integration and Evaluation 

TWA Trans-World Airlines 

V/STOL Vertical or Short Take-Off and Landing (aircraft) 

306 
Appendix C 

Biographical Sketches of 

Principal NASA Officials 

Hugh L. Dryden 

Born in Pocomoke City, Maryland, in 1898. Received B.A. in 1916 and 

Ph.D in 1919 from The Johns Hopkins University. Joined the National Bureau 

of Standards in 1918 and during the 1920s and 1930s produced many technical 

papers in aerodynamics for the Bureau and for the National Advisory Committee 

for Aeronautics (NACA). Member of NACA Committee on Aerodynamics from 

1931. Named Assistant Director of the Bureau of Standards in 1946 and Associate 

Director six months later. Joined NACA in September 1947 as Director of 

Research; became NACA Director in May 1949. Deputy Administrator of NASA 

from 1 October 1958 to his death on 2 December 1965. 

Harold . B. Finger 

Born in New York City in 1924. Received B.S. in mechanical engineering 

from City College of New York in 1944 and M.S. in aeronautical engineering 

from Case Institute of Technology in 1950. Joined Aircraft Engine Research 

Laboratory-renamed Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory in 1948-in 1944, 

where he remained until his appointment to the NASA Headquarters staff in 

1958 as Chief of the Nuclear Engine Program. Manager of the Space Nuclear 

Propulsion Office from its establishment in August 1960 until his assignment to 

headquarters early in 1967. Served as Associate Administrator for Organization 

and Management, 15 March 1967-1 May 1969, when he became an Assistant 

Secretary in the Department of Housing and Urban Development. 

Robert R. Gilruth 

Born in Minnesota in 1913. Earned B.S. and M.S. in aeronautical engineering from the University of Minnesota, 1935-1936. Joined Langley Labora307 
APPENDIX C 

tory in 1937; became Assistant Director in 1952. In October 1958 appoin

head the Space Task Group managing Project Mercury, the nation's first m

spaceflight program. Director, Manned Spacecraft Center, November 1961

ary 1972, when he was named to the newly created position of NASA Direc

Key Personnel Development. Retired in December 1973. 

T. (Thomas) Keith Glennan 

Born in North Dakota in 1905. After 'graduating from Yale Univers

1927 with a degree in electrical engineering, he became involved with th

sound motion picture industry and worked in Hollywood as a sound engine

studio manager from 1935 to 1941. Served as Administrator and then Direc

the U.S. Navy Underwater Sound Laboratories, 1942-1945. President, 

Institute of Technology, 194 7-1966, with two leaves of absence: first to 

member of the Atomic Energy Commission (1950-1952), then to be th

NASA Administrator (19 August 1958-20 January 1961). Member of 

boards and committees, including General Advisory Committee of the A

Energy Commission, the Institute for Defense Analyses, and the Aero

Corporation. 

D. Brainerd Holmes 

Born in Brooklyn, New York, in 1921. Received B.S. in electric

gineering in 1943 from Cornell University. Worked for Western Electric an

Telephone Laboratories from 1945 to 1953, when he joined the Radio 

poration of America (RCA). Served as General Manager of RCA's Majo

fense Systems Division, in which capacity he was project manager for the Ba

Missile Early Warning System, which was completed on time and within 

Joined NASA in October 1961 as Director of Manned Space Flight. N

Deputy Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight Centers on 3

tober 1962. Announced resignation on 12 June 1963 and returned to indus

senior vice president of the Raytheon Company. 

George E. Mueller 

Born in St. Louis, Missouri, in 1918. Received B.S. from Missouri S

of Mines in 1939, M.S. in electrical engineering from Purdue University in 

and Ph.D in physics from Ohio State University in 1951. Worked in Bell 

phone Laboratories before joining faculty of Ohio State University in 

Appointed professor of electrical engineering at Ohio State in 19 52. Before jo

NASA in 1963, spent five years with Space Technology Laboratories, s

successively as Director of the Electronics Laboratories, Program Director 

Able Space Program, Vice President of Space Systems Management, and 

President for Research and Development. Associate Administrator for M

Space Flight, NASA, from 1 September 1963 to 10 December 1969, wh

returned to private industry. 

308 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES 

Homer E. Newell 

Born in Holyoke, Massachusetts, in 1915. Received B.A. and M.A. in teaching from Harvard University and Ph.D in mathematics from the University of 

Wisconsin in 1940. Taught at the University of Maryland from 1940 to 1944, 

when he joined the Naval Research Laboratory (NRL). Became head of NRL 

Rocket Sonde Branch in 1947 and was in charge of the laboratory's upper 

atmosphere research programs. Became Acting Superintendent of the Atmosphere 

and Astrophysics Division and was also Science Program Coordinator for Project 

Vanguard. Joined NASA in October 1958; became Deputy Director of the Office 

of Space Flight Programs. Director, Office of Space Sciences, 1 November 1961-

1 November 1963, when he became Associate Administrator for Space Science 

and Applications. Served as NASA Associate Administrator from 1 October 1967 

to his retirement at the end of 1973. Author of many papers and several books on 

mathematics and space science. 

Thomas 0. Paine 

Born in Berkeley, California, in 1921. Earned A.B. in engineering at Brown 

University in 1942; served as a submarine officer in the Pacific during World 

War II. Received M.S. and Ph.D from Stanford University (194 7 and 1949} in 

physical metallurgy. Worked as research associate at Stanford before joining 

General Electric Corporation (GE) in 1949. From 1963 to 1968 was manager of 

the GE TEMPO Center for Advanced Studies, an interdisciplinary study group. 

Appointed NASA Deputy Administrator by President Johnson on 31 January 

1968. Became Acting Administrator following resignation of James Webb on 7 

October 1968. Nominated by President Nixon to become NASA Administrator on 

5 March 1969 and confirmed by Senate fifteen days later. Resigned on 15 October 

1970 to return to GE; became senior vice president in 1973. Chosen president and 

chief operating officer of the Northrop Corporation in February 1976. 

Samuel C. Phillips 

Born in Arizona in 1921. Received B.S. in electrical engineering from University of Wyoming in 1942 and M.S. in electrical engineering from University 

of Michigan in 1950. Joined the Air Corps in 1942 as a second lieutenant, rising 

to Air Force brigadier general in 1961, major general in 1964, and lieutenant 

general in 1968. Served as Director of the Minuteman Program from 19 59 to 

1963; appointed Vice Commander of the Ballistic Systems Division (Air Force 

Systems Command) in August 1963. Detailed to NASA Headquarters in January 

1964 as Deputy Director of the Apollo Program. Appointed Apollo Program 

Director in October 1964 and served through August 1969. Commander, Air 

Force Space and Missile Systems Organization, September 1969-April 1972; 

Director, National Security Agency, April 1972-August 1973; Commander, Air 

Force Systems Command, August 1973-September 1975, when he became vice 

president of Energy Systems Management Division of TRW, Incorporated. 

309 
APPENDIX C 

Robert C. Seamans, Jr. 

Born in Salem, Massachusetts in 1918. Earned B.S. at Harvard Univ

in 1939 and M.S. and Sc.D. at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MI

1942 and 1951. From 1941 to 1955 he held teaching and project manag

positions at MIT. Joined RCA in 1955, becoming chief engineer of its M

Electronics and Controls Division. With NASA from 1960 to 1968, fi

Associate Administrator ( 1 September 1960-2 December 1965) and then

ceeding Hugh Dryden, as Deputy Administrator from 21 December 1965 

resignation on 5 January 1968. Appointed Hunsaker Professor at MIT in 

Served as Air Force Secretary from February 1969 to May 1973. Pres

National Academy of Engineering, 1973-1974. Administrator, Energy Re

and Development Administration, January 197 5-January 1977. Cur

Henry R. Luce Professor at MIT Alfred P. Sloan School of Managemen

Willis H. Shapley 

Born in Pasadena, California, in 1917. Studied at the University of Ch

1938-1942. Joined staff of the Bureau of the Budget in 1942, becoming a 

cipal Examiner in 1948, Assistant Chief (Air Force) of the Bureau's M

Division (1956-1961), and Deputy Chief of the Military Division from 1

1965. In each position he was charged with reviewing research and develo

programs of DOD and the programs of NACA/NASA, and he was instrum

in drafting the original version of the 1958 Space Act. Served as NASA D

Associate Administrator from 1 September 1965 to his retirement in August 

Abe Silverstein 

Born in Terre Haute, Indiana, in 1908. Received B.S. in mechanic

gineering from Rose Polytechnic Institu.te in 1929 and a mechanical engin

professional degree from the same school in 1934. Aerodynamic research en

at Langley Laboratory from 1929 to 1940; head, Full-Scale Wind Tunnel, 

1943; transferred to Aircraft Engine Research Laboratory, 1943. Chief, 

Tunnel and Flight Division, 1943-1949. In 1949 was placed in charge 

research at Lewis Laboratory. Associate Director of Lewis Labor

1952-1958. Transferred to NACA Headquarters in May 1958 to help pr

the transition to NASA. Director of Space Flight Programs for NASA, O

1958-0ctober 1961, in which capacity he contributed greatly to the develo

of NASA's unmanned probes and satellites. Director, Lewis Research C

November 1961-November 1969. Became director of Environmental Pla

for Republic Steel Corporation in Cleveland, Ohio, in 1970. 

Wernher von Braun 

Born in Wiersitz, Germany, in 1912. Attended institutes of technolo

Berlin and Zurich and received doctorate in physics at the University of Be

310 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES 

1934. Joined the rocket experimental center in Peenemunde in 1937 and was 

director of research until 1945; his work and that of his colleagues led to development of the V-1 and V-2 guided missiles used against the Allies during World 

War II. Surrendered to U.S. Army in 1945; came to the United States and worked 

at the White Sands Missile Range before moving to the Redstone Arsenal in 

Huntsville, Alabama, in 1950. Became U.S. citizen in 1955. Developed the Redstone and J upiter-C rockets, the latter of which placed Explorer 1, the nation's 

first unmanned satellite, into orbit on 31 January 1958. Transferred to NASA in 

1960 and was Director of the Marshall Space Flight Center from July 1960 to 

February 1970, when he was appointed NASA Deputy Associate Administrator 

for Planning. Resigned in July 1972 to become corporate vice president 

(Engineering and Development) at Fairchild Industries. Died in Alexandria, 

Virginia, on 15 June 1977. Author of many papers on rocketry and space flight, 

von Braun was one of the best known figures in the history of the U.S. space 

program and played a crucial role in the development of the Saturn rocket. 

James E. Webb 

Born in Granville County, North Carolina, in 1906. Received B.A. in education from University of North Carolina in 1928. Studied law at George Washington University and was admitted to the District of Columbia Bar in 1936. 

Joined Sperry Gyroscope in 1936, rising to vice president in 1943. Became 

Assistant to the Under Secretary of the Treasury in 1946; served as Director of 

the Bureau of the Budget from 1946 to 1949 and as Under Secretary of State from 

1949 to 1952. In private business from 1952 through 1960; served as president of 

Republic Supply Company, as assistant to the president of the Kerr-McGee Oil 

Company, and as a member of the board of McDonnell Aircraft. Administrator 

of NASA, 14 February 1961-7 October 1968, when he returned to the private 

sector as a lawyer and consultant. Member, Commission on Government Procurement, March-December 1972. Member of many boards and task forces; 

currently a trustee of the National Geographic Society and a member of the Board 

of Regents of the Smithsonian Institution. Author of Space Age Management 

(New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969). 

DeMarquis Wyatt 

Born in St. Joseph, Missouri, in 1919. Received B.S. in mechanical engineering from Missouri School of Mines in 1941. Served as a research scientist and 

supervisor at the Lewis Laboratory from 1944 to 19 58, specializing in aerodynamic and thermodynamic studies of advanced aircraft and propulsion systems. 

Served at NASA Headquarters from October 1958 to his retirement in July 1973. 

Director, Office of Programs, June 1961-November 1963; Deputy Assistant 

Administrator/ Assistant Administrator for Programming, November 1963-

March 196 7. Assistant Administrator for Program Planning and Analysis, 

311 
APPENDIX C 

15 March 1967-May 1970, when he became Assistant Administrator for P

ning. Until the 1967 reorganization Wyatt's office had major responsibilit

budget preparation and review of program proposals. 

312 
Appendix D 

Types of Contracts Authorized by NASA* 

Firm fixed price-Provides for the payment of a definite price upon the 

delivery and acceptance of the items or services specified in the contract. It is used 

when designs and specifications are firm and fair, and reasonable prices can be 

established before performance. With this type of contract the contractor assumes 

the maximum performance risk and has the most incentive to reduce his cost. 

Fixed-price incentive-Has the same concept and criteria as the firm 

fixed-price type, except that profits may be adjusted for rewards or penalties 

related to the contractor's succeeding or failing in attaining prescribed goals .... 

Fixed-price escalation-Differs from the firm fixed-price type in that 

specific contingencies generally related to unstable market or labor conditions are 

recognized by a provision which permits the price to fluctuate up or down as the 

particular contingencies materialize. 

Fixed-price redetermination -Concept and criteria are the same as for the 

firm fixed price except that uncertainty as to costs may be present, which are 

resolved by an adjustment of the price upward or downward after a specified 

delivery or completion point has been reached. 

Cost-plus-fixed-fee-Provides that the contractor will be reimbursed for all 

his acceptable costs plus a fixed amount of fee as profit. This type of contract is 

generally used for research, development, ot studies for which the parties cannot 

reasonably predict the required level of effort, the parameters to be investigated, 

or the probable costs. 

Cost-plus-incentive-fee-Similar in concept to the CPFF contract but generally with a clearer view as to the work to be done and results to be obtained. The 

fee in this type of contract is not fixed but is established in terms of target, 

• Source: House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1965 NASA Authorization, 88th Cong., 2d sess. 

(1964), pp. 1327- 1328. 

313 
APPENDIX D 

maximum, and minimum within which range the contractor's earnings are 

erned to the extent to which he exceeds or falls short of targets in terms of 

schedule, performance, or a combination of these. 

Cost-plus-award-fee-. .. provides for a basic fixed fee for performanc

a level deemed acceptable, plus an additional award fee, not in excess 

stipulated maximum, for accomplishment bettf!r than the 'acceptable' level. 

Cost sharing-The contractor is paid no fee and is reimbursed for only 

of his cost, accepting in lieu of monetary reimbursement certain commercia

other benefits which may be found in the contract.· 

Cost reimbursement-The contractor receives no fee and is reimbursed 

for his acceptable costs. 

314 
Appendix E 

Chronology of Administrative and Other Events, 

1957-1969 

1957 

4 October-The Soviet Union announced that it had successfully orbited an 

Earth-orbital satellite, Sputnik 1, as its contribution to the International Geophysical Year. This was followed by the launch of Sputnik 2, three times as large 

as its predecessor and carrying a dog as passenger, on 3 November. 

7 November-President Dwight Eisenhower named James Killian, head of 

the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, as Special Assistant for Science and 

Technology and chairman of the President's Science Advisory Committee. On 

27 November the Committee was transferred from the Office of Defense Mobilization to the Executive Office. 

1958 

31 january-The Army's Juno I successfully launched Explorer 1, the first 

U.S. Earth-orbital satellite. The payload was developed by the Jet Propulsion 

Laboratory, while the experiment of Prof. James Van Allen of the University of 

Iowa detected a hitherto unknown belt of radiation above the Earth. 

7 February-Secretary of Defense Neil McElroy established the Advanced 

Research Projects Agency at a level above and distinct from the services. The new 

agency was intended to sponsor projects without immediate military application, 

although the military services were authorized to act as executive agents on many 

of its projects. 

5 March-President Eisenhower approved recommendations of the Advisory Committee on Government Organization that the new civilian space agency 

be lodged in a reconstituted National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics. 

315 
APPENDIX E 

14 April-Administration's draft legislation submitted to Congress

15 July-The final version of the National Aeronautics and Space 

1958 was passed by Congress. It provided for an agency headed by a 

Administrator, for a National Aeronautics and Space Council to set overal

and for a Civilian-Military Liaison Committee to coordinate the program

Defense Department and the new agency. The act authorized the Admin

to fill up to 260 "excepted" positions exempt from civil service regulatio

stipulated that the agency would take title to all patents developed in the 

of work performed under contract to the agency. 

29 july-President Eisenhower signed the National Aeronautics an

Act. 

3 August-The National Academy of Sciences established a Space 

Board, one of whose principal functions was to advise the Space Agenc

science programs. The Board was funded jointly by the National Science F

tion and NASA until 1964, when NASA assumed sole responsibility. 

15 August-The Senate confirmed the nomination ofT. Keith Gle

NASA Administrator and Hugh Dryden as NASA Deputy Administrator

time of their appointments, Glennan was president of the Case Inst

Technology, and Dryden was Director of the National Advisory Comm

Aeronautics. 

27 August- A rider to the NASA Appropriation Act stipulated that 

would have to seek authorizing legislation before it could request approp

for the 1960 fiscal year. This requirement was made permanent in 1959

30 September-The National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics w

of existence at the close of business. _ 

1 October-NASA began its official existence. By Executive Order 

the President transferred to NASA all the property and civilian personne

Naval Research Laboratory's Vanguard Division. Also transferred were 

lunar probes sponsored by the Army, the F -1 rocket engine under Air Forq

and over $100 million in unexpended funds. 

7 October-Project Mercury, the nation's first manned flight progra

established. The project was to be directed by a Space Task Group stati 

the Langley Research Center and headed by Robert Gilruth. 

3 December- Executive Order 10793 transferred to NASA the j

pulsion Laboratory's functions and Government-owned property. The lab

founded in 1944, was to operate as a facility of the California Institute o

nology under contract to NASA. 

1959 

january- The position of Associate Administrator was established a

Headquarters. Richard Horner, Assistant Air Force Secretary (Research

velopment) was named to fill the position on 1 June. 

316 
CHRONOLOGY 

3 April-An agreement between NASA and the Department of Defense 

(DOD) established a procedure for the detailing of military personnel to NASA. 

13 April-The Advanced Research Project Agency's Tiros meteorological 

satellite was transferred to NASA. 

1 May-NASA renamed its Space Center in Beltsville, Maryland, the Goddard Space Flight Center, in honor of one of the founders of modern rocketry. The 

center, forma~ly established in January 1959, was largely staffed by Vanguard 

personnel transferred to NASA. 

August-Glennan promulgated guidelines for contract awards exceeding $1 

million. The Administrator, assisted by ad hoc boards, became responsible for 

establishing the selection criteria for each contract. 

21 October-President Eisenhower announced decision to transfer the 

Army's Saturn project to NASA. As part of the transfer, NASA was to receive the 

Development Operations Division of the Army Ballistic Missile Agency, located 

at the Redstone Arsenal in Huntsville, Alabama. 

12 November-A NASA-DOD agreement established the principles by 

which each agency was to reimburse the other for services rendered. 

December-A headquarters reorganization created a new Office of Launch 

Vehicle Programs, with responsibility for Saturn and the new Huntsville installation. The new Office was headed by Maj. Gen. Don Ostrander (USAF), acting 

head of the Advanced Research Projects Agency. 

1960 

14 March-The transfer of the Development Operations Division to NASA 

became effective. 

15 March-President Eisenhower named the Huntsville facility the George 

C. M~r.shall Space Flight Center (MSFC). The formal mass transfer of personnel 

and faCilities from the Army Ballistic Missile Agency took place on 1 July. The 

new center was headed by Wernher von Braun, who had been in charge of launch 

vehicle'-development at the Redstone Arsenal before the transfer took place. 

May-NASA established a Space Science Steering Committee to act as an 

intern l advisory body for the Director of Space Flight Programs, Abe Silverstein. 

FollO\vJhg the 1963 reorganization, the Committee was renamed the Space Science ~d Applications Steering Committee, and its subcommittees were expanded 

from seven to thirteen. 

june-Congress authorized an increase in the number of NASA excepted 

positions from 260 to 290. 

28-29 july - At a NASA Industry Program Plans Conference in Washington, D.C., Silverstein announced that the agency's manned circumlunar mission 

project would be named Apollo. 

·September-RCA engineer Robert C. Seamans, Jr., succeeded Horner as 

Associate Administrator. 

317 
APPENDIX E 

13 September-NASA and DOD formally established an Aeronau

Astronautics Coordinating Board, chaired by the NASA Deputy Admin

and the Director of Defense Research and Engineering, to coordinate pr

avoid wasteful duplication, and identify problems. The agreement provid

actions based on Board consideration of matters "may be taken by ind

members." 

12 October-The Advisory Committee on Organization establi'shed b

nan the preceding March submitted its final report. The Committee, he

Lawrence Kimpton, chancellor of the University of Chicago, consisted of o

with extensive experience in business and Government. While the 

surveyed the entire scope of NASA organization, it apparently had littl

on the conduct of operations-coming as it did at the end of the Eise

administration. 

1961 

10 january-A task force headed by Jerome Wiesner of MIT issued 

to President-elect John F. Kennedy. The report concluded that NASA ha

too much emphasis on manned space flight and not enough on unmanne

science and that NASA activities showed little sign of forward planning

7 February-President Kennedy nominated James E. Webb, a law

former Director of the Budget, to be NASA Administrator. Webb's nom

was confirmed by the Senate on 9 February. 

February-'-August-At Webb's behest, NASA officials conducted 

studies that laid the groundwork for the November reorganization. 

23 February-Webb and Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell G

agreed that NASA and DOD would not initiate development of space 

vehicles or boosters without mutual consent. 

20 April-Congress approved an administration proposal to reorga

Space Council. Public Law 87-26 transferred the Council to the Executiv

of the President, made the Vice President the chairman, reduced the Co

five statutory members, and authorized the Council to "assist" as well a

the President. 

5 May-In the nation's first manned space · flight, Alan Shepa

launched by a Redstone booster for a fifteen-minute suborbital flight. 

25 May-President Kennedy addressed a joint session of Congr

outlined the broad-gauged national space program prepared by Webb a

fense Secretary Robert McNamara. Kennedy proposed (a) the goal, "bef

decade is out, of landing a man on the Moon and returning him safel

Earth"; (b) the development of a nuclear rocket; (c) the development of 

nications and meteorological satellites. The President accompanied his 

with a request for an additional $549 million, most of which was earma

the lunar program. 

318 
CHRONOLOGY 

5 june-NASA announced the establishment of an Office of Programs 

under DeMarquis Wyatt to serve as a planning and review staff to the Associate 

Administrator. 

28 june-A joint report issued by NASA, DOD, and the Federal Aviation • 

Agency concluded that the development of a commercial supersonic transport 

aircraft was technically feasible and in the national interest, that the Government's role should be one of assistance to industry, and that "maximum feasible 

recovery of direct government expenditures should be sought." 

20 july-A joint NASA-DOD Large Launch Vehicle Planning Group was 

created under the cochairmanship of Nicholas Golovin (NASA) and Lawrence 

Kavanau (DOD). Although the group could not resolve the question of mission 

mode for Apollo, it made several important recommendations, including one that 

the Air Force proceed with the development of the Titan III launch vehicle. 

9 August-NASA announced first major Apollo contract award, to MIT's 

Instrumentation Laboratory for Apollo Guidance and Navigation. 

24 August-NASA announced selection of site at Cape Canaveral, Florida, 

as site of Apollo launches. A NASA-DOD agreement provided that the site would 

be operated as a joint venture under single management to prevent duplication and 

that the Air Force would be assigned responsibility for all "range operations." 

September_-December-NASA announced prime contractors for the three. 

stages of the Advanced Saturn launch vehicle: Boeing for the first stage (S-IC), 

North American Aviation (Rocketdyne Division) for the second (S-11), and Douglas Aircraft for the third (S-IVB). 

19 September-NASA announced that a new Manned Spacecraft Center 

would be established at Houston, Texas, with the Space Task Group as its 

nucleus. 

October-Congress authorized NASA to raise its ceiling of excepted positions from 290 to 425. 

lJ:Iovember-NASA announced a major headquarters reorganization. The 

follow4tg offices were · abolished: Advanced Research Programs, Space Flight 

Progr~ms, Launch Vehicle Programs, and Life Science Programs. Five new 

office~ )Y'ere established: Advanced Research and Technology (under Ira Abbott); 

Space Sciences (Homer Newell); Manned Space Flight (D. Brainerd Holmes); 

Appli<;~tions (vacant, subsequently filled by Morton Stoller); and Tracking and 

Data Acquisition (Edmond Buckley). All NASA field installations were to report 

directly to Associate Administrator Seamans. 

~ November-Despite a report from the source evaluation board rating the 

Martin Company higher technically, Webb, Dryden, and Seamans selected North 

Amerjcan Aviation as prime contractor for the Apollo command and service 

modules. 

,December-Seamans announced the creation of a new program, Gemini, 

as a fp~low-on to Mercury. Its major purposes were to develop the technique of 

rendezvous in space and to extend orbital flight time. 

319 
APPENDIX E 

12 December-NASA requested the Army Corps of Engineers to 

responsibility for managing its construction of new facilities, particularly 

• 

Cape . 

21 December-First meeting of the Manned Space Flight Mana

Council, chaired by Holmes and including the Manned Space Flight 

directors and their staff. 

1962 

24 january-Establishment of NASA Office of Public Affairs. 

9 February-NASA announced that General Electric had been selec

a major supporting role in Apollo to provide integration analysis of the tota

vehicle, assure reliability of the entire space vehicle, and develop and op

checkout system. 

21 February-Webb wrote to the president of American Telepho

Telegraph (AT&T), requesting that the Bell System provide experienced 

prepare studies and analyses in support of the lunar landing. On 23 

AT&T announced the formation of Bellcomm, Inc., a profit-making corp

owned by AT&T and Western Electric and working exclusively for NA

30 April-Task force on Government Contracting for Research and 

opment submitted its report. The Committee, chaired by David Bell, the D

of the Budget, included Webb and McNamara. Its principal recommen

were (a) that Government salaries should be competitive with those offe

similar work by private industry; (b) that certain functions should ne

contracted out; (c) that Government facilities should be used to the fullest p

extent; and that, where possible, the Government should use fixed-price 

than cost-plus-fixed-fee contracts and that provision be made for in

arrangements. 

29 May-Webb appointed a study group chaired by Walter Sohier, 

General Counsel, to review source evaluation·procedures and various met

improving contractor performance. Throughout 1962 NASA moved tow

introduction of incentive clauses in its major development contracts. 

1 july - The Launch Operations Center at Cape Canaveral was o

activated as a separate NASA field installation. 

11 july-In a press conference NASA explained the choice of luna

rendezvous as the Apollo mission mode. NASA also announced that an im

version of the Saturn I would be developed to test-fly the Apollo configura

Earth orbit. 

21 july-NASA selected design for the Advanced Saturn launch c

northwest of the Cape. The launch vehicles would be erected and check

vertically and then transported to launch complex 39, already under constr

31 August-President Kennedy signed the communications satelli

establishing a private corporation in charge of the U.S. portion of a future 

communications satellite network. 

320 
CHRONOLOGY 

11 October-Congress passed the Federal Salary Reform bill, which increased the rate for GS-18 from $18 500 to $20 000 and created a nonquota 

category of scientific and research positions t~ be filled by agencies, including 

NASA, upon approval by the U.S. Civil Service Commission. 

30 October-Holmes was named Deputy Associate Administrator for the 

Manned Space Flight Centers. Under this arrangement, MSFC, the Manned 

Spacecraft .Center (MSC), and the Launch Operations Center would report 

directly to Holmes, rather than to Seamans. 

20 November-NASA named Adm. W. Fred Boone (USN-Ret.) to the 

newly created position of Deputy Associate Administrator for Defense Affairs. 

1963 

14 january-A NASA-DOD agreement provided that Merritt Island 

Launch Area would be operated as a NASA installation, separate and distinct 

from the Air Force's Atlantic Missile Range; that NASA would be responsible for 

master planning of Merritt !slana; and that DOD would remain responsible for 

operation and management of range facilities of Atlantic Missile Range as a 

national asset, providing common range service to DOD and NASA. 

17 january -NASA's budget request for FY 1964 was sent to Congress and 

included $5 million for land acquisition and engineering services for an Electronics Research Center in the Boston area. 

21 january-NASA-DOD agreement confirmed NASA's role as Gemini 

project manager, created Gemini Program Planning Board to plan experiments 

for NASA and DOD, and agreed that "DOD and NASA will initiate major new 

programs or projects in the field of manned space flight aimed chiefly at the 

attainment of experimental or other capabilities in near-earth orbit only by mutual agreement." 

25r February-Memo from Seamans to all center directors recommending 

that requests for proposals, including the incentive clause, "contain the precise 

language of the definitive contract terms." 

March-Establishment of NASA Office of Industry Affairs, with the Procurement Division placed under it. At the same time, the Industrial Applications 

Division of the Office of Applications was renamed the Technology Utilization 

Divisiqn and charged with disseminating information on the commercial applications of. space technology. 

15-16 May -Astronaut Gordon Cooper's twenty-two-orbit flight concluded 

the M~rcury program. 

5 june-Delivering Air Force Academy commencement address, President 

Kennedy said, "It is my judgment that this Government should immediately 

commence a new program in partnership with private industry to develop at the 

earlie t practical date the prototype of a commercially successful supersonic transport superior to that being built in any other country of the world." In a 14 June 

321 
APPENDIX E 

letter to Speaker of the House he described the proposed supersonic tr

development. 

12 june-D. Brainerd Holmes announced his resignation as Deputy 

ate Administrator for the Manned Space Flight Centers. Dr. George E. M

Vice President for R&D of Space Technology Laboratories, was named to 

him on 23 July. 

24 September-At meeting of the Manned Space Flight Managemen

cil it was resolved that the monthly program review and the monthly Mana

Council meetings should be combined and that the size of the Council sh

decreased. 

14 October-First meeting of the NASA Management Committee, 

by Seamans and attended by key headquarters functional officials, inclu

heads of the Offices of Industry Affairs, Public Affairs, International Affa

Administration. · 

29 October-At meeting of Manned Space Flight Management C

Mueller stressed the importance of an approach to meeting schedules tha

"maximize 'all-up' systems flight tests." He also said the philosophy 

include obtaining "complete systems at the Cape ... and scheduling both 

and launch dates." (Minutes of Management Council). 

1 November-Major reorganization of NASA Headquarters becam

tive, consolidating the program offices and delineating certain staff fu

George Mueller was named Associate Administrator for Manned Space 

with MSC, MSFC, and the Launch Operations Center reporting to him; 

Newell became Associate Administrator for Space Science ~nd Applicatio

the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, Goddard Space Flight Center, and Wallo

tion reporting to him; while Raymond Bisplinghoff, the Associate Admin

for Advanced Research and Technology, directed the Ames, Flight, Lang

Lewis Research Centers. These program managers would report to the A

Administrator. Also reporting to Seamans would be the Deputy Associate A

trators for Industry Affairs, Administration, Programming, and Defense 

29 November-President Lyndon B. Johnson signed executive order 

ing the name of the Launch Operations Center to the John F. Kenned

Center (KSC). 

10 December-Defense Secretary McNamara announced cancelatio

Dyna-Soar manned aero-spacecraft project. Some of the funds saved w

diverted into long-range exploration of the military uses of man in space, t

project of which w·ould be a Manned Orbiting Laboratory (MOL) using G

type spacecraft. 

1964 

9 january-NASA and the Federal Aviation Agency (FAA) signed a 

randum of understanding on supersonic transport. FAA was to be respon

direction and management of design and evaluation of proposals; NA

322 
CHRONOLOGY 

conducting background research, providing technical advice, making resources 

available to FAA, and vehicle flight testing. 

14 january-NASA-DOD agreement on instrumentation ships provided 

that ships required to support NASA and DOD programs would be placed in pool 

operation on behalf of both agencies, and that the Navy would be the lead agency 

on ship modification and conversion. 

30 january-In letter to Webb, President Johnson requested that NASA 

outline its post-Apollo plans. NASA established Future Programs Task Group 

under Francis Smith to reply to President. 

30 january-Basic agreement between NASA and U.S. Weather Bureau to 

establish a National Operational Meteorological Satellite System. The Weather 

Bureau would determine overall requirements, operate command and data acquisition stations, and process data for integration into weather analyses. NASA 

would design and launch spacecraft, operate launch sites, and conduct launch 

operations. 

April-NASA issued NPC 401 on use of contracts for nonpersonal services. 

20 April-NASA-DOD agreement assigned responsibility to DOD for providing contract administration services within the Philadelphia region. This 

agreement served as prototype for NASA use of DOD contract administration 

services throughout the United States. 

27 April-4 May-House Science and Astronautics Committee's Subcommittee on NASA Oversight held hearings on failure of Ranger 6 lunar probe. 

july-December-Joint study conducted by AACB Launch Vehicle Panel 

confirmed NASA decision to use the Saturn rather than the Titan III launch 

vehicle for Apollo. 

1 September-NASA Electronics Research Center at Cambridge, Massachusetts, was formally activated. 

15 September-A task force headed by NASA Deputy Associate Administrator Earl Hilburn issued first report on Studies Relating to Management Effectiveness in' Scheduling and Cost Estimating. Second report submitted on 15 December. 

10 December-Webb, McNamara, Donald Hornig, the President's Science 

Advisor, and Kermit Gordon, the Director of the Bureau of the Budget, reached 

preliminary agreement on the purpose and scope of the MOL. 

l\ 

,r 

1965 

january-Future Programs Task Group issued final report. This outlined 

future program possibilities, but did not specifically choose among them. In a 

letter to the President of 16 February, Webb endorsed the exploration of Mars by 

unmanned vehicles and the use of the Saturn booster and the lunar module for, a 

variety of missions. 

25 january-Webb and McNamara announced NASA-DOD agreement on 

MOL. Both agencies would conduct cooperative studies to identify experiments 

323 
APPENDIX E 

that might be conducted in conjunction with the military program, whil

continued intensive studies aimed at defining primary military objective

22 May-NASA-DOD agreement outlined principles in the manage

colocated tracking stations. 

22 july-Harry Goett dismissed as Director of Goddard Space Flig

ter after persistent disagreements with senior NASA management. D

Clark, director of Sciences in the Office of Space Science and Applications

Acting Director. 

6 August -Saturn/ Apollo Applications directorate established withi

of Manned Space Flight to plan and direct programs utilizing technolog

oped in Apollo. · 

25 August-At a White House news conference, President John

nounced approval of DOD development of the MOL at a cost of $1.5 billio

unmanned flights, launched by a Titan IIIC, would begin late in 1966 

1967. At the same press conference, he announced that he was extending th

system of planning-programming-budgeting to civilian agencies, in

NASA. 

1 September-Willis Shapley, formerly Deputy Chief of the M

Division of the Bureau of the Budget, became NASA Associate 

Administrator. 

28 October-NASA officially instituted its policy of phased project pl

Research and development process divided into four stages: advanced 

project definition, design, and development/operations. 

2 December-Hugh Dryden, NASA Deputy Administrator since 19

at age 67. 

29 December-NASA Headquarters reorganization plan disse

throughout NASA. The plan provided for the following changes: establish

Office of the Administrator, in which the Administrator and Deputy Adm

tor would be supported by the Associate Deputy Administrator with a str

retariat; and establishment of operating pattern whereby the Deputy Admin

Dr. Seamans, would serve as general manager. Among other changes, Dir

Office of Tracking and Data Acquisition would be made Associate Admin

for Tracking and Data Acquisition, and heads of all functional staff offices

as the four program offices would report to Deputy Administrator. 

1966 

14 january-Webb invited Norman Ramsey, a Harvard physics pr

to form a committee to evaluate NASA's advisory structure. 

21 March -A report of a subcommittee of the House Governmen

ations Committee recommended that NASA's Apollo Applications and 

Force's MOL be merged in order to avoid wasteful duplication. 

324 
CHRONOLOGY 

19 May-A report of the Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space 

Sciences questioned the adequacy of NASA funding for aeronautical R&D and 

suggested a separate budget for aeronautics as a possible solution. 

5 August-The consulting firm of Booz, Allen and Hamilton submitted its 

report to NASA on the effectiveness of the agency's incentive contracts. Based on 

a study of fifteen major contracts, the report concluded that incentive contracts 

were more effective than cost-plus-fixed-fee in holding down costs but that NASA 

still had much to learn about their benefits and limitations. 

15 August----'Ad Hoc Advisory Committee chaired by Norman Ramsey submitted its report to the Administrator. Its principal recommendation, that NASA 

establish a general advisory committee of non-NASA scientists reporting to the 

Administrator, was rejected by Webb and Newell. 

29 August -Seamans signed project approval document authorizing Apollo 

Applications proposal. The approved plan called for launching the fueled upper 

stage of a Saturn IB, which would then be outfitted by the astronauts as an orbital 

"workshop." 

8 September-A NASA task force led by Wesley Hjornevik submitted its 

"Considerations in the Management of Manpower in NASA." Purpose of report 

was to consider "possible methods by which Center complements could be adjusted by management to meet the needs of changing roles and missions." 

15 November-With successful flight of Gemini 12, NASA's Project Gemini 

officially ended. 

1967 

27 january-Three-man crew for NASA's first manned Apollo spaceflight 

died when flash fire swept through the Apollo 1 spacecraft on the launch pad at 

KSC. Victims were Virgil Grissom, one of seven original Mercury astronauts, 

EdwaP.d H. White, and Roger B. Chaffee. NASA appointed Apollo 204 Review 

Board,. chaired by Floyd Thompson, Director of Langley Research Center, on 

28 January. ' 

Eebruary-In its report on The Space Program in the Post-Apollo Period, 

the President's Science Advisory Committee rejected the idea of selecting a single 

major goal as focal point for U.S. post-Apollo program and urged instead 

a "balanced program based on the expectation of eventual manned planetary 

exploration." 

15 March-NASA carried out a major headquarters reorganization, the 

fourth since 1961. Harold B. Finger, Manager of NASA-Atomic Energy Commission Space Nuclear Propulsion Office since its formation in 1960, was named 

to new position of Associate Administrator for Organization and Management. 

Repdfting to Finger would be the Assistant Administrators for Administration, 

Industry Affairs, Technology Utilization, and University Affairs. DeMarquis 

325 
APPENDIX E 

Wyatt became Assistant Administrator for Program Plans and Analysis

and programming functions previously under Wyatt were transferred to th

of Administration, headed by William Lilly, where they would be integra

a NASA-wide system for resources management and budgeting. 

9 April-Apollo Review Board submitted final report. While Bo

unable to pinpoint exact ignition source, it did identify many engineer

design deficiencies that led to the disaster. 

10 April-10 May-House Science and Astronautics Committee's S

mittee on NASA Oversight held hearings on Apollo fire. It adjourned 

issuing a report. Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Scienc

concurrent hearings but issued no report until January 1968. 

1 May-NASA established the Lunar and Planetary Missions A

Board to assist in developing a general strategy for manned and unmanne

and planetary missions. Board would work with all senior officials inv

such missions and would report to the Associate Administrator for Space 

and Applications. An Astronomy Missions Board with similar responsibi

space astronomy was established on 13 November. 

9 May-At hearing before Senate Committee on Aeronautical an

Sciences, Webb announced that NASA was extending Boeing Compa

sponsibilities to include integration of command and service module an

module with Saturn booster system. 

17 May-In memorandum for the record, Seamans recorded decisio

several days before by senior management: (a) main Apollo program 

priority over Apollo Applications; (b) all Apollo hardware to be config

mainline mission; (c) Apollo Applications flight schedules and mission 

ments to remain tentative pending further progress on mainline Apo

further definition of payloads. 

18 May- Bernard Moritz appointed Assistant Administrator for 

Contracts Negotiation and Review, with special responsibility for suc

contracts as those involving the Apollo command and service modules 

Saturn S-11 stage. 

june-U.S. General Accounting Office issued report concluding tha

support service contracts at the Goddard and Marshall Space Flight Cent

excessively costly and that the Government could have saved money by us

service employees. 

25 August- NASA announced that Homer Newell would become A

Administrator, effective 1 October. He would be succeeded as Associate A

trator for Space Science and Applications by Dr. John Naugle. 

September-Owing to reductions in the NASA budget request, NA

pended production of the Saturn V rocket beyond the fifteenth vehicle a

celed the Voyager unmanned mission to Mars and the NERV A II nuclea

program. 

October- Leo Pellerzi, General Counsel to the U.S. Civil Service C

sion, declared certain NASA support service contracts illegal, chiefly 

contract personnel were performing the regular work of the agency. Du

326 
CHRONOLOGY 

next few months, NASA issued guidelines to bring such contracts under tighter 

central control. 

October-U.S. Civil Service Commission submitted its "Evaluation of Personnel Management" to Webb. The report concluded that there were a number 

of problem areas in NASA personnel management: lack of headquarters leadership in supervisory training and promotions, lack of understanding by supervisors of their personnel management responsibilities, and lack of management 

support for equal opportunity programs. To reply to the report, Webb established 

an internal Personnel Management Review Committee on 21 November. 

2 October-Webb announced resignation of Deputy Administrator Seamans, effective 5 January 1968. 

9 November-Successfullaunch of Apollo 4. This was the first launch of the 

Saturn V rocket, as well as the first launch from KSC. 

1968 

january-Establishment of NASA Management Council, chaired by Newell and attended by representatives of all the headquarters program and functional 

offices. 

26 january-Resignation of Edmond Buckley as Associate Administrator 

for Tracking and Data Acquisition. He was succeeded by his deputy, Gerald 

Truszynski. 

27 january-In a memorandum to all key NASA officials, Webb outlined 

a revised system for project approval and control. A NASA operating plan would 

serve as an official statement of resource plans for the current year, and each item 

in the plan would be covered by project approval documents, all of which would 

be reviewed by the Office of Organization and Management. 

{1 March-Associate Administrator Newell announced that the project status re~;" ews before top management would become "general management reviews" 

to be attended by all key headquarters officials . 

.?,May-NASA issued revised guidelines for phased project planning. The 

four prases were now designated preliminary analysis, definition, design, and 

development/ operations. 

16 September-At a White House press conference, James Webb announ~,¢ his resignation as NASA Administrator, effective 7 October. Thomas 

Paine,bwho had been named Deputy Administrator by President Johnson the 

preceding February, became Acting Administrator. 

December-President-elect d ...• Richard M. Nixon named Dr. Charles Townes 

to he~~ a task force to make recommendations in space planning. 

1969 

11.) 

~bruary-President Nixon established a Space Task Group to draft a plan 

for the next decade of the U.S. space program. Chaired by Vice President Spiro 

327 
APPENDIX E 

Agnew, the task group included NASA Administrator Paine, Secretary of 

Force Robert Seamans, and Lee DuBridge, the President's Science Advi

5 March-President Nixon announced nomination of Acting Admin

Paine to be NASA Administrator. Nomination confirmed by Senate on 20 

20 March-Appointment of NASA Associate Administrator for O

zation and Management Harold Finger to be Assistant Secretary for 

Research and Technology, Department of Housing and Urban Develo

Nomination confirmed by Senate on 25 April. 

May-NASA "procurement lead time" study uncovered major delay

processing of NASA R&D contracts. 

7 May-NASA announced establishment of task group on manne

stations under Dr. George Mueller, Associate Administrator for Manned 

Flight, and of task group on space shuttle under Charles Mathews, M

deputy. 

1 june-Report of task force headed by Dr. Townes recommende

tinuation of $6 billion space effort, disapproved of any commitment t

orbiting space station, and urged commitment to unmanned planetary 

10 june-Deputy Secretary of Defense David Packard announced 

ation of MOL because of cuts in defense spending and advances in unm

satellite systems. 

20 july-Apollo 11 astronauts Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin lan

Moon. 

22 july-NASA announced revised plans for first orbital worksho

1972 launch using first two stages of Saturn V to launch workshop and 

Telescope Mount together. Workshop would be outfitted on ground and 

arrive in Earth orbit equipped for immediate occupancy by astronauts an

Apollo Telescope Mount attached. 

1 September-Lt. Gen. Samuel Phillips (USAF), Apollo Program D

since 1964, resigned to become Commander of Air Force Space and 

Systems Organization. He was succeeded by Rocco Petrone, Director of L

Operations at KSC since 1966. 

15 September-President's Space Task Group presented report Th

Apollo Space Program: Directions for the Future to President Nixon. 

recommended goal of balanced manned and unmanned programs; increas

phasis on utilization of space technology; and development of new syste

technology space operations that emphasized commonality, reusability, an

omy through development of new space transportation capability and spa

tion modules. Report outlined three possible NASA programs for manne

landing before end of the century. 

10 November-NASA announced resignation of Dr. George Mue

Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight, effective 10 Decemb

successor was named. 

13 November-President Nixon sent to Senate nomination of Dr. 

M. Low as NASA Deputy Administrator. At the time of his nomination, L

328 
CHRONOLOGY 

Apollo spacecraft manager at MSC. Senate confirmed nomi_nation on 26 November, and Low was sworn in on 3 December. 

29 December-NASA announced decision to close Electronics Research 

Center at Cambridge, Massachusetts, owing to budget cuts . 

.. 

•·, 

. ' 

329 

INDEX 

Abbott, Ira, 36 

Abelson, Phillip, 250 

acquistion process, 84-86 

Ad Hoc Committee on Space, 17 

Ad Hoc Science Advisory Committee, 

250 

Administration, NASA Office of, 38, 48, 

54 

administrative services, 123 

Administrative, NASA, 2, 4, 6, 15, 25, 29, 

30; Office of, 6, 7, 50, 52, 53, 61 

Advanced Manned Missions, 194 

Advanced Mission Studies Program, 173 

Advanced Missions, 134; Office of, 175 

Advanced Orbiting Solar Observatory, 

187, 247, 253 

Advanced Programs and Technology 

group, 169 

Advanced Research and Technology, 

NASA Office of, 36, 43, 64, 142, 144, 

146, 151, 163-67, 169, 256; Board, 

165; Mission Analysis Division, 165; 

Program and Resources Division, 165 

Advanced Research Programs, NASA Office of, 36 

Advanced Research Projects Agency 

(ARPA), 13, 14, 15, 17,214, 215,216 

advanced studies, 147-52 

Advanced Study Mission Review, 150 

Advent, 214-17 

advisors, outside, 249-53 

Advisory Committee on Organization 

(Kimpton committee), NASA, 29, 33 

Advisory Panel on Federal Pay Systems, 

112 

Aeronautical and Space Sciences Committee, 54 

Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating Board (AACB), 15, 34, 144, 149, 

157, 218, 225, 228, 229, 244; Launch 

Vehicle Panel, 227; Manned Space 

Flight Panel, 149 

Aerospace Corporation, 66, 70, 218 

" affirmative action," 121 

Agnew, Spiro, 260 

air-breathing (cruise) missiles, 11 

Air Force, 11 , 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 69, 70, 

79, '122, 211, 214, 216, 217, 221 , 222, 

223, 224, 225, 228, 230, 232, 236; 

Ballistic Missile Division, 217; 

331 

Cambridge Research Laboratory, 228; 

Configuration Control Board, 219; 

National Range Division, 221; Strategic 

Weapons Evaluation Committee, 11; 

Systems Command, 217, 218 

Air Materiel Command, 217 

Air Research and Development Command, Western Development Division, 

69, 70,217 

Agena, 219, 221 

Aldrin, Edwin "Buzz," 25, 267 

"all-up" flight testing, 6, 267 

Alvarez, Luis, 250 

American Federation of Government Employees, 124, 131, 136, 137 

American Telephone and Telegraph, 20, 

88 

Ames,Joseph, 10 

Ames Research Center, 10, 132, 36, 164, 

213, 228, 230, 271 

Anderson, Clinton, 54, 199, 201, 234 

Anti-Deficiency Act, 187 

Antigua tracking station, 224 

Apollo, 1,3,8, 17, 18,20,21 , 24, 25, 45, 

64, 65, 70, 74, 78, 79, 80, 85, 89, 121 , 

124, 141, 172, 173, 174, 187,205,207, 

208,223,224,225,229,262, 264,267, 

268, 270, 271, 272, 273; command and 

service modules, 6, 7, 19, 73, 125; fire, 

7, 24, 25, 53, 89, 161, 194, 209, 253; 

lunar orbit rendezvous, 20-21; missions, 122 

Apollo Applications, 25, 53, 91, 99, 114, 

161,173, 175,189,235,245,248,253, 

254, 255, 258, 259 

Apollo Executive Group, 174 

.Apollo Extensions Systems, 244, 245 

Apollo Program Office, 89, 127 

Apollo Spacecraft Automatic Checkout 

Equipment, 89 

Apollo-Soyuz, 97, 221, 226 

Apollo Telescope Mount (ATM), 137, 

247, 248, 253, 270 

Applications, NASA Office of, 36, 45 

Applications, Technology Satellite, 156 

appropriation accounts, 182-85 

Armed Services Committee, 12 

Armed Services Procurement Act, 69 

Armed Services Procurement Regulations, 72, 76, 95 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Armstrong, Neil, 25, 122, 267 

Army, 13, 15, 16, 69, 214; Ballistic Missile Agency, 107, 112; Corps of 

Engineers, 19, 22, 49, 211 

Arnold Engineering Development Center, 145 

Ascension Island tracking station, 224 

Associate Administrator, NASA, 5, 6, 30, 

31, 33,35, 36,38,45 

Associate Administrator for Organization 

and Management, NASA, 7 

astronauts, selection, 122-23 

Astronomy Missions Board, 251, 270, 

271 

Atlas, 11, 69, 212, 219, 221 

Atomic Energy Commission, 13, 15, 16, 

75,268,269 

Audit Division, NASA, 55 

Authorization Act, 197 

authorization and appropriation cycle, 

196-202 

automatic data processing (ADP), 36, 67, 

126 

B-52 bomber, 98 

B-58 bomber, 70 

B-70 bomber, 85, 229, 232 

Ballistic Missile Agency Development 

Operations Division, 16 

Ballistic Missil~ Early Warning System, 

19 

ballistic missiles, II, 70, 85; intercontinental, 11; intermediate range, 11 

Barnett, Henry, 127 

base operations, 123, 126 

Bay of Pigs invasion, 17 

Bell, David, 75 

Bell report, 75-79, 91, 101, 112 

Bell System, 89 

Bellcomm, Inc., 66, 74, 88, 89, 90, 91, 

174, 257, 259, 263 

Biosatellite, 271 

Bisplinghoff, Raymond, 40, 43 

Boeing Co., 4, 19, 25, 70, 80, 88, 90, 91, 

92,98, 103,219,268 

Bolender, Brig. Gen. C. H. 122 

Bomarc missile, 70, 98 

Boone, W. Fred, 219, 220, 223,236 

boosters, 16, 18 

Booz, Allen and Hamilton, 103, 104, 105 

Brackett,. Ernest, 73, 74 

Braun, Wernher von. See von Braun, 

Wernher 

Brown, Harold, 216 

332 

Buckley, Edmund C., 36 

budget, NACA, 10 

budget, NASA, 60; formulation, 182-2

preparation, 185-89; review, 180-8

budget, operating, NASA, 8 

Budget and Accounting Act, 124, 190 

Budget Operations, NASA Division 

144 

budgetary cycle, 193-96 

budgetary process, 2, 38 

Bureau of the Budget, U.S., 4, 7, 14

67, 85, 86, 87, 107, 109, 113, 114, 

127, 130, 136, 138, 141, 161, 179

181, 186, 187, 188, 189, 194, 195,

268; Director, 14; Military Division

Office of Management and Organ

tion, 14 

Bureau of Labor Statistics, U.S., 112, 

Bureau of Ships, U.S. Navy, 224 

Burner II, 212 

Business Administration, NASA O

of, 108 

Butler, T. Melvin, 127 

Buy American Act; 99 

C-5A transport plane, 85 

Califano, Joseph, 195 

California Institute ofTechnology, 1

Cape Canaveral, 19, 21, 22, 24 

Centaur, 22, 97, 156, 173, 201,215,

226, 271 

center directors, 6, 42, 47 

Center Operations, NASA Associate 

ministrator for, 143 

"Central Secretariat," 49 

Chaffee, Roger, 24 

Charles, Robert H., 77 

Cheyenne armed helicopter, 85 

Chrysler Corporation, 70 

Civil Service Commission, U.S., 53

107,109,ll0,111,ll2,ll3,114,

121, 126, 127, 130, 131, 132, 133

Civilian-Military Liaison Committee

Classification Act, 111 

Codified Policy Reference, 50 

coding system, 4 7, 48 

Cold War, 11 

Cole,John, 109 

Cole report, 109, 110 

Collier trophy, 10 

Commerce, U.S. Department of, 14

Committee for Economic Develop

109 ' 

Compmni~tions Satellite Act, 15 
Communications Satellite Corporation, 

215 

Comptroller General, U.S., 73, 100, 112, 

124, 125, 126, 180 

Computation Laboratory, 129 

Congress on Space and Astronautics, 13 

Congress,1,9,12,14,15,18,23,24,81, 

85, 95, 99, 110, 111, 115, 123, 124, 

125, 127, 129, 141, 148, 161, 173, 187, 

198, 199, 200, 201, 209, 269; Armed 

Services Committee, 12; Preparedness 

Investigating Subcommittee, 12, 13, 18 

"Considerations in the Management of 

Manpower in NASA," 127 

consultants, 2 

contract administration, 2, 75, 76, 77, 

79-80, 121 

contract management, 4 

contract policy, 2, 3, 4, 18, 29, 75, 78, 87, 

93, 101, 124 

"Contracting for Nonpersonal Services," 

123 

contracting officer, 72, 74 

contracting philosophy, 65-68 

contractors, 72-75; prime, 4, 18, 76, 103 

contracts, 23, 45, 68-71, 148, 150, 161, 

162, 175; cost-plus-award-fee, 101; 

cost-plus-fixed-fee, 5, 74, 77, 78-79, 

100; fixed price, 76, 77; incentive, 4, 5, 

76, 77, 268; negotiations, 73, 74; 

prime, 19, 94; research and development, 33, 72, 74, 76, 94, 100-05; selection criteria, 72; sole source, 72, 104 

contracts, mission support, 123; Bellcomm, Inc., 88, 124; Boeing Technical 

Integration and Evaluation, 88, 90, 91, 

92, 124, 268; General Electric Company, 88, 90, 92, 97; processing, 98 

contracts, support service, 54, 87, 91, 92, 

93, 104, 107, 123-26, 129-31, 133, 

161; engineering, 88, 92 

Control Data Corporation, 67 

Convair, 11, 95 

Cooper, Gordon, 22 

Copeland Anti-Kickback Act, 100 

Cortright, Edgar, 53, 139, 248, 271 

cost estimates, 74; 154-58 

Court of Appeals, U.S., 131 

cowling, NACA, 10 

Critical Reports and Correspondence Review System, 50 

"cross-servicing," 143 

Curtin, Robert, 228 

INDEX 

Data Relay Satellite, 229 

Debus, Kurt, 45 

decentralization, 1 

Deep Space Network (DSN), 84, 162, 

163, 220, 224 

Defense, U.S. Department of, 2, 11, 12, 

13, 14, 15, 16, 22, 23, 49, 69, 75, 76, 

77, 79, 80, 107, 112, 118, 121, 146, 

149, 190, 211, 230, 244; Secretary of, 

11, 13, 18 

Defense Affairs, NASA Office of, 42, 138, 

149, 219 

Defense Communications Agency, 216 

Defense Contract Administration Service, 

79, 80 

Defense Contract Audit Agency, 79 

Defense Mobilization, Office of, 12 

Defense Supply Agency, 79, 211, 223 

DeFrance, Smith, 40 

Delta launch vehicles, 74, 97, 156, 226 

Deputy Administrator, NASA, 6, 7, 15 

detailee system, 122 

Directorate of Defense Research and 

Engineering, 214 

Directorate of Space Medicine, 246 

DOD-NASA coordination, 15, 149; 

agreement, 23, 149; reimbursement arrangements, 221-25; relations, 146, 

212-14, 217-30 

Domestic Council, 196 

Doolittle,James, 11, 14 

Dorman, Bernhardt L., 54 

Douglas Aircraft Company, 19 

draft presidential memorandums, 193 

Dryden, Hugh L., 6, 7, 11, 14, 15, 19, 23, 

24, 28, 29, 30, 31, 33, 34, 39, 42, 47, 

49, 50, 61, 73,111,113,115,164,172, 

186, 233, 242, 248, 270, 307 

DuBridge, Lee, 260 

Dyna-Soar, 98, 149, 219, 231, 232 

Early Bird, 78 

Eastern Test Range, 45, 123, 124, 130, 

213,218,219,221,222,223,224,228, 

229 

Eastman-Kodak Company, 98 

Edwards Air Force Base, 10 

Eisenhower, Dwight D., 12, 13, 15, 17, 

18, 122, 137, 181 

Electronics Research Center, 24, 25, 77, 

109, 114, 132, 134, 187, 198,261,267, 

268 

333 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Elms,James, 175 

engine development, 5 

engineering support, 124 

Enthoven, Alain C., 190 

equal employment opportunity (EEO), 

99, 120, 121 

Equal Employment Opportunity, NASA 

Office of, 121 

"Evaluation of Personnel Management," 

126, 131 

Evins,Joe, 199 

Executive Office of the President, 12, 18 

Executive Order 11246, 120 

executive secretariat, NASA, 47, 49, 50, 

52, 53,55,64 

Explorer 1 , 13 

F-1 engine, 3, 15, 73, 80, 126, 225 

facilities coordination, 35 

Facilities Management Office, 144, 160 

Fair Labor Standards Act, 99 

feasibility studies, 4 

Federal Aviation Agency, 23 

Federal .contract research centers, 66, 67 

Federal Council for Science and Technology, 12, 118, 181 

Federal Executive Salary Act, 113, 114 

Federal research and. develoment spending, 202-05 

Federal Salary Reform Act, 76 

Finan, William, 14 

Financial Management Division, 154 

financial management systems, review of, 

126 

Finger, Harold B., 7, 54, 55, 57, 60, 63, 

86, 87, 88, 91, 98, 130, 133, 160, 164, 

254,271,307 

Five-Year Defense Plan, 190 

Fleming, William, 142, 144, 145, 146, 

148, 151, 153, 228 

flight readiness review, 90 

Flight Research Center, 198, 209, 256 

fluid mechanics laboratory, 145-46 

Foster, Willis, 246 

Frutkin, Arnold, 256, 257 

"functional management," 43, 60, 63, 64, 

108 

"functional review process," 55 

Future Programs Task Group, 208, 241, 

242-47, 261 

Gargarin, Yuri, 17 

334 

Gemini, 3, 19, 22, 53, 67, 74, 78, 97, 

124, 141, 157, 172,207,212,218, 

229.230-35,270 

Gemini Program Planning Board, 21

General Accounting Office, U.S., 54

86, 87, 107, 109, 123-26, 127, 

182, 190, 228 

General Dynamics, Convair Division

97 

General Electric Company, 20, 74, 8

general manager, NASA, 50 

General Services Administration, 48

72 

Gilpatric, Roswell, 18, 93, 148, 215, 

244, 270 

Gilruth, Robert, 16, 91, 175, 248, 3

Glenn, John, 22, 122 

Glennan, T , Keith, 4, 15, 16, 28, 29

31, 33, 34, 38, 39, 62, 63, 72, 73

109, 113, 126, 153, 200, 308 

Goddard Space Flight Center, 16, 4

71, 87, 109, 123, 126, 129, 130

169, 171, 172,265 

Goett, Harry J., 41, 172 

Gordon, Kermit, 124, 127, 234 

Gorman, Harry, 127, 132 

Gray, Edward Z., 175, 245, 246 

Great Society, 115 

Grissom, Virgil, 24 

group management, 61 

Grumman Company, 21, 25, 80, 97 

Headquarters, NASA, 23, 27, 28, 2

36, 61; Administration Office, 55

sonnel Division, 109; Procur

Branch, 73; Space and Missile Sy

Organization, 218 

Hess, Harry, 252 

High Energy Astronomical Observ

177, 270 

High Speed Flight Research Statio

Hilburn, Earl D., 53, 81, 84, 94, 10

Hilburn Task Force, 80-84, 157 

Hitch, Charles J., 190 

Hjornevik, Wesley, 127 

Hjornevik task force, 127, 128, 12

264, 265 

Hodgson, Alfred, 34 

Holmes, D. Brainerd, 19, 20, 21, 

38, 41, 43, 64, 173, 308 

Horner, Richard, 30, 34 

Hornig, Donald, 181, 234 
Houbolt, John, 20 

House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 125 

House Government Operations Committee, 92, 235, 254 

House Science and Astronautics Committee, 23, 73, 174, 197, 198, 209 

Hughes Aircraft Company, 215 

Humphreys, Maj. Gen. James W.,Jr., 122 

Hunsaker, Jerome, Ill 

Huntsville Arsenal, 69, 70, 136 

hydrogen, liquid, 95 

hypersonic booster-glider, II 

hypersonic flight, II 

hypersonic rocket plane, X-15, II 

IBM Corporation, 67, 92 

Industrial Operations Division, NASA, 

175 

Industry Affairs, NASA Office of, 5, 42, 

54, 73, 108, 138, 144 

Initial Defense Communications Satellite 

System, 216 

Inspections Division, NASA, 55 

Installations and Logistics, DOD Office 

of, 73 

Institute for Defense Analyses, 66 

Institutional Working Group, 263 

instrumentation support, 123 

International Geophysical Year, II 

issuance system, 4 7, 48 

J-2 engine, 3, 78, 80, 141, 225 

Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL), 15, 16, 

23, 31, 41, 45, 66, 81, 118, 147, 163, 

169,172,201,220,230,264,270,271, 

272 

Johnson, Lyndon B., 12, 13, 17, 18, 19, 

120, 127, 181, 185, 189, 191, 195, 199, 

204,207,208,231,233,234,235, 243, 

257 

Johnson Space Center, 19, 45, 87 

Joint Committee on Atomic Energy, 54 

Jupiter rocket, II, 13 

Keller, Samuel, 127 

Kennedy,John F., I, 3, 17, 18, 23, 24, 25, 

34, 107, 112, 127, 137, 181, 189, 202, 

219,225,227,267 

Kennedy Space Center (KSC), 22, 45, 87, 

123, 129, 130, 173, 175, 220, 221, 228, 

229, 264, 270 

Killian,James,Jr., 12, 137 

Kimpton, Lawrence, 33 

Kimpton committee (Advisory Committee on Organization), 29, 33 

Kimpton report, 34, 49, 77 

Labor, U.S. Department of, 121 

Lacklen, Robert J., 108 

Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory, 9, 16 

Langley Research Center, 23, 41, 123, 

132, 136, 213, 240, 265, 271 

Large Launch Vehicle Planning Group, 

225, 226 

large solid motor program, 208, 227 

Large Space Telescope, 165 

Launch Operations Center, 45, 175, 220 

launch schedule, 45 

launch support, 2, 123 

launch vehicle development, 5 

launch vehicle planning, 225-28 

Launch Vehicle Programs, NASA Office 

of, 5, 33, 36 

launch vehicles, manned, I, 5, 121 

Legislative Affairs and Public Affairs, 

NASA Office of, 50 

Lesher, Richard, 54 

Lewis, Geoge W., 10 · 

Lewis Research Center, 10, 22, 123, 132, 

134, 137, 145, 147, 173, 254, 271 , 272 

Life Sciences Directorate, 164 

Life Sciences Programs, NASA Office of, 

36 

Lilly, William E., 54, 193 

Limited Warfare Committee, 230 

Low, George M., 18, 60, 271 

Lunar and Planetary Missions Board, 

201, 249, 250, 252, 270, 271 

lunar excuration module, 21 

lunar landing, 16, 25, 80, 173; decision, 

17-21, 36; manned, I, 2, 5, 73; mission, I, 85; program, 23 

lunar orbit rendezvous (LOR), 20-21 

Lunar Orbiter, 4, 22, 23, 98, 103, 156, 

251, 271 

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 176, 197, 

272 

M-1 engine, 188 

McDonnell-Douglass Corporation, 74, 

78,80,95, 97,98, 112,235 

McElroy, Neil, 13, 214 

INDEX 

335 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

McKinsey and Company, 29 

McKinsey report, 49 

McNamara, Robert, I8, 75, 76, 99, I49, 

I90, I93, 2I7, 2I8, 2I9, 22I, 222,223, 

229, 230, 23I , 232, 234 

Macy,John W., II4, ll5 

Maggin, Bernard, I42 

Magnuson, Warren, I99 

maintenance services, I24 

Man in Space Sonnest project, 2I9 

Management Advisory Panel, NASA, 59, 

60 

Management Analysis, Division of, 

NASA, 48 

Management and Budget, U.S. Office of, 

I80 

Management Committee, NASA, 45, 46, 

48, I09, I38, I87 

Management Council, NASA, 48, 59, 

I32,248, 257 

Management Development, NASA Office 

of, 48, 57, I32 

management documentation, 48 

management instructions, NASA, 4 7, I 09 

Management Manual, NASA, 3I, 4 7, 48 

management reporting, 35 

management reviews, 50 

managers, general, 45 

Manhattan Project, 69 

Manned Orbiting Laboratory (MOL), 

I49, 229, 230-35, 244, 248, 253, 254 

Manned Space Flight Centers, Deputy 

Associate Administrator for, 43 

Manned Space Flight Experiments 

Board, 246 

Manned Space Flight (MSF), NASA Office of, 5, 6, 7, 8, I9, 36, 43, 52, 64, 88, 

89, 90, IOI, 102, Il8, 123, 146, 144, 

147, 148, 150, 151 , 166, 169, 172-76, 

245, 246, 247, 261, 263; Management 

Council, 6, 20, 46, 9I, 101, I74 

Manned Space Flight Network, 220 

Manned Space Flight program, 5, 6, 103 

Manned Space Flight Science and Technology Advisory Committee, 249, 252 

Manned Space Flight Subcommittee, I96 

Manned Space Sciences Division, 246 

Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC), I9, 

33, 89, 91, 115, I32, 137, 148, I57, 

175,240,267,272 

manpower policy, NASA, 108-10, I38 

336 

manpower requirements, NASA, 

120 

manpower restrictions, 124 

Mansfield Amendment, 204 

Mariner, 198 

Maritime Reserve, 224 

Mars mission, 25 

Marshall Space Flight Center, 4, I6

22, 33, 45, 70, 87, II2, II5, I23, 

127, 129, I30, I3I, I34, I36, I37

173, I97, 228,240,248, 254, 264, 

272 

Martin Company, 24, 2I9, 254 

Massachusetts Institute of Techno

Instrumentation Laboratory, I9 

Mathews, Charles, 259 

Mead, Merrill, I27 

Mercury, Project, I6, I7, 22, 2I9 

Mercury, spacecraft, 66, 74, 95, I2I, 

229 

Merritt Island Launch Area, 2I8 

Midas, 2I4 

Miller, George P., 23, I99 

Minneapolis-Honeywell, 67 

Minuteman, 98, 227 

mission, NASA, 53 

Mission Analysis Division, I64, I65, 

Mission Boards, I68 

Mission Control Center, 92 

Mission Operations Director, 220 

Mississippi Test Facility, 89, 209 

Moffet Field, California, I 0 

monthly status review, 45, 46, 50, 5

Moritz, Bernard, I32 

Mueller, George E:, 6, 23, 43, 50, 5

80, 92, 10I, IIO, I34, I57, I72, 

I74, I75,208,233,243, 245, 246

25I, 257,258,259,260, 264,272

Murray, Bruce, 250 

Myers, Dale D., 60 

NASA-Atomic Energy Commission 

clear Propulsion Office, 7, I6, 54 

"NASA Basic Administrative Process

48 

NASA-DOD coordination, I5, 

agreement, 23, I49; reimburseme

rangements, 22I-25; relations, 

2I2-I4, 2I7-30 

NASA-DOD Facilities Review, I45 

NASA-DOT Civilian Aviation Researc

Development Policy Study, I66-67 
NASA Management Committee, See Management Committee, NASA 

National Academy of Sciences, 34, 118, 

146, 167, 252 

National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA), 9, ll, 12, 13, 14, 15, 

36, Ill; budget, l 0; Chairman, ll; director, ll 

National Aeronautics and Space Council, 

15 

National Environment Policy Act, 100 

National Multipurpose Space Station, 

235 

National Science Foundation, 75, 146, 

205 

National Space Science Data Center, 146 

Naugle,John E., 167 

Naval Research Laboratory, 11, 15, 16, 

33, 70, 128, 169 

Navy, ll, 80 

Navy Military Sea Transportation Service, 

224 

NERVA, 25, 188, 207, 243 

Newell, Homer E., 36, 41, 43, 57, 59, 60, 

161,167,168,169,200,246,247,248, 

249,250,251,256,257,259,262,263, 

309 

Nimbus, 17, 80, 95, 125, 154, 171,216 

Nixon, Richard M., 181, 195, 196, 204, 

257, 258, 260, 261 

North American Aviation, 7, 15, 19, 24, 

54, 73, 78, 79,80,90,95,97, 125,209; 

Rocketdyne Division, 19, 73; Space Division, 25 

Notus, 214 

NOVA, 20, 21, 226 

nuclear propulsion, ll 

O'Connor, Brig. Gen. Edmund, 122 

Operations Support Requirements Office, 220 

Orbiting Astronomical Observatory 

(OAO), 95, 97, 125, 154, 167, 168 

Orbiting Geophysical Observatory, 154 

Orbiting Observatories, 17, 80, 85, 171, 

271 

Orbiting Solar Observatories, 265 

Organization and Management, NASA 

Office of, 7, 48, 55, 57, 59, 60, 64, 121, 

126, 130, 160, 254 

organization procedures, 62-64 

INDEX 

P-51 Mustang, 10 

Paine, Thomas 0., 25, 39, 60, 137, 161, 

256, 258, 259, 260, 309 

Pan American World Airways, 123, 224, 

225 

payloads, 1 

Pellerzi, Leo, 129, 130 

Pentagon Office of Systems Analysis, 191 

Personnel, NASA, Director of, l 08, 121 

personnel, NASA in-house, 115-23, 126 

Personnel Division, NASA, l 08 

personnel management, 54, 109, 126-39 

Personnel Management Review Committee, 132-33, 139 

personnel policy, 138. See also manpower 

policy, NASA 

PERT/COST system, 156, 273. See also 

program evaluation and review technique (PERT) 

Philco, 92 

Phillips, Urig. Gen. Samuel, 24, 122, 174, 

309 

Phillips report, 25, 125, 209 

Pioneer, 271 

Planetary Missions Board, 251 

planning, NASA 152-54; adequacy, 

261-66; intermediate-range, 142, 176; 

launch vehicle, 225-28; long-range, 2, 

30, 46, 57, 59, 60, 62, 209, 256; ori-

. gins, 239-42; policy, 52; short-range, 

2,45 

planning, Office of Advanced Research 

and Technology, 165 

planning, post-Apollo, 149 

Planning Coordination Steering Group 

(PCSG), 60, 194, 208, 247, 256, 257, 

261 

planning-programming-budgeting system (PPBS), 189-93, 194 

Planning Review Committee, 260 

Planning Review Panel, NASA, 46, 144, 

147, 148, 150, 151, 152 

Planning Source Documents, 256 

Planning Steering Group (PSG), 256, 

257, 260, 261, 263 

Plans and Program Evaluation, NASA Office of, 33, 38, 46, 241 

Plum Brook Station, 123 

Polaris, 11, 156, 221, 269 

Policy, NASA Office of, 60 

policy planning, 59 

337 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Policy Planning Board, NASA, 46, 241 

positions: excepted, 110-15, 138, 187, 

268; nonquota, 113-15, 127; supergrade, 110-15, 138 

Pratt and Whitney Aircraft Company, 97 

Preparedness Investigating Subcommittee, 12, 13, 18 

President's Committee on Equal Employment Opportunity, 95 

President's Science Advisory Committee 

(PSAC), 12, 14, 17, 21, 149, 181, 255, 

233, 234, 252, 253, 262, 270; Space 

Vehicle Panel, 20 

President's Space Task Group, 28, 251, 

272; report of, 257-61 

principal investigators, 2 

Procurement, NASA Office of, 101, 103, 

121 

procurement, negotiated, 66, 67 

procurement, sole source, 79 

Procurement and Supply Division, NASA, 

42 

Procurement Division, NASA, 73 

procurement plan, 67, 73, 74 

procurement policy, 4, 45, 64, 73 

procurement process, 68, 84-86 

procurement request, 72 

program and financial plan, 193 

Program and Resources Division, 165 

program authorization, 31, 45, 4 7 

program budgeting and funding, 36, 76 

program categories, 205-07 

program directors, 38, 41, 42, 43, 53, 60, 

64 

program evaluation and review techniques (PERT), 85, 156, 157 

Program Facilities Standards Division, 

NASA Office of, 144 

program managers, 2 

program memoranda, 60 

program offices, NASA, 5, 6, 7, 36, 42, 

45, 50, 52, 57, 60 

program operating plan, 153, 186 

program planning, 99, 144, 177 

Program Plans and Analysis, Assistant 

Administrator for, 54; NASA Office of, 

55, 57, 60, 193, 194 

program review, 46, 57, 144-47 

Program Review, NASA Division of, 144 

Program Review and Resources Management Group, 169 

Program Review and Resources Management Office, 171 

338 

program status reports, 157 

Programming, NASA Office of, 45, 

142, 147, 157, 186 

programming, research and deve

ment, 161-76 

Programs, NASA Office of, 38 

Project 39 review, 217 

Project 60, 79 

project approval document (PAD), 8

55, 57, 63, 145, 150, 152, 153, 

161, 166, 254 

project assignment, 61 

project authorization, 63 

project management, 43 

project managers, 6 

project planning, 5, 65; phased, 4, 7

60, 63, 80-84, 100, 104, 152, 

158-61 

project review, 35 

proposals, contractor, 4, 72; review

request for, 67 

Proxmire, William, 201 

Public Affairs, NASA Office of, 42 

Public Law 80-313, 110, 112 

Ramo-Wooldridge Corporation, 72 

Ramsey, Norman, 250, 270 

RAND Corporation, 11, 12, 66, 69, 

Ranger, 16, 18, 22, 23, 80, 95, 172

201 , 207 

RCA Corporation, 98 

Redstone Arsenal, 11, 16, 212 

reductions in force, 126, 128, 131, 

136, 137, 209, 254 

Relay, ,156 

reorganization, NASA, 6 

Reorganization Act, 190 

request for proposal, 67, 72, 75, 77

research and development, 2, 76; 

tracts, 33, 68. (See also contract

search and development); p

planning, 152-54 

Research and Development Opera

175 

research and development program

161-76 

resource allocation, 63-64 

Resources Analysis, NASA Divisi

144, 194 

resources management, 54 

resources programming, 35 

review system, 59 
reviews, NASA in-house, 57; annual, 59, 

62, 64; general management, 59; 

monthly status, 45, 46, 50, 57, 59, 64; 

program, 46, 57 (See also program review); program office, 59; project status, 59; proposal, 63 

RL-1 0 engine, 97 

Roberts, Edward B., 100 

rocket propulsion, 11 

Rocketdyne Corporation, 73, 80, 126 

Rockwell-Standard Corporation, 97 

"Round Three" Steering Committee, 

NACA, 11 

Rover, 95 

S-11, 125 

salaries, civil service, 111-13 

Salary Reform Act, 112 

Samos, 214 

SARP charts, 157 

Satellite Tracking and Data Acquisition 

Network, 220 

Saturn, 3, 95, 98, 212, 221, 226, 244, 

24 7, 259; project, 16, 20, 21; vehicles, 

6 

Saturn I, 21, 213 

Saturn IB, 21, 24, 70, 98, 174, 221, 227, 

228, 249, 254 

Saturn V, 6, 19, 24, 25, 53, 70, 78, 79, 80, 

91, 147, 173, 174,207,227 

Saturn/ Apollo Applications Office, 245 

schedule slippage, 82-84 

Schriever, Gen. Bernard A., 69, 217 

Schultze, Charles L., 192, 195, 223, 248 

Science Advisory Committee, 12, 169 

Science and Astronautics Subcommittee, 

200 

Science and Technology, Office of, 181 

Science and Technology Advisory Committee, 257 

Scout, 227 

Seamans, Robert C., Jr., 6, 7, 19, 24, 25, 

34, 35, 36, 38, 40, 42, 43, 45, 46, 50, 

52, 53, 54, 55, 57, 59, 60, 61, 63, 64, 

73, 77, 79, 80, 81, 84, 89, 109, 110, 

115, 127, 138, 139, 145, 146, 148, 150, 

152, 153, 157, 158, 163, 172, 177, 184, 

186,187,188,201,230,233,242,247, 

248, 256, 258, 260, 310 

Senate Aeronautical and Space Sciences 

Committee, 184, 197, 198, 208, 243, 

2.'>5 

INDEX 

Shapley, Willis H., 14, 52, 53, 57, 310 

Shepard, Alan, 22 

Siepert, Albert, 34, 108 

Silverstein, Abe, 16, 35, 36, 41, 142, 164, 

310 

Skybolt missile, 85, 232 

Skylab, 97, 221, 226, 245, 251 

Small Business Administration, 95, 99 

Small Scientific Satellite, 171 

Smith, Francis B., 54, 243 

Smith, Margaret Chase, 199 

SNAP-8, 188 

Sohier, Walter, 77 

source evaluation board (SEB), 61, 67, 

72, 73, 79, 95, 97, 167 

source evaluation procedures, 3, 77, 79; 

manual3, 65 

source selection documents, 72, 73 

source selection procedure, 72, 93-100 

Soviet Union, 12 

Space Act, 3, 14, 15, 18, 29, 53, 76, 111, 

112, 131,211,214,230,240 

space applications, 2 

space capability, 2 

Space Council, 17, 18, 150 

Space Exploration Program Council, 31 

Space Flight Operations Facility, 220 

Space Flight Programs, NASA Office of, 

16, 35, 36 

space medicine, 228, 229 

space program, 1, 2, 6, 11; management, 

23 

Space Science and Applications, NASA 

Office of, 43, 46, 52, 64, 126, 139, 144, 

146, 147, 148, 151, 165, 167-72, 246, 

247, 261, 264 

Space Science and Applications Steering 

Committee (SSASC), 167, 249 

Space Science Board, 167, 168, 250, 252, 

253, 262, 271 

Space Sciences, NASA Office of, 36, 41, 

45 

space shuttle, 91, 126, 255 

Space Station Study Office, 240 

Space Task Group, NASA, 16, 18, 19, 33, 

89, 91, 128, 199, 260, 261, 262, 

Space Tracking and Data Network, 220 

Spacecraft Instrumentation Evaluation 

Facility, 228 

Special Assistant to the President for Science and Technology, 12 

Special Contracts Negotiation and Review, NASA Office of, 54 

339 
MANAGING NASA IN THE APOLLO ERA 

Special Procurement Study, 77 

sputnik, 12, 13 

Staats, Elmer, 125, 127 

staff, in-house, 4, 5; civil service, 86-93 

Stans, Maurice, 14 

State Department, U.S., 49 109 

Stoller, Morton J., 36 

support services, 86, 87 

supporting research and technology 

(SRT), 165 

Supreme Court, U.S., 131 

Surveyor, 17, 18,22,23,80,95, 125,126, 

141, 187, 198, 207, 212, 226, 251, 254 

Syncom, 17, 85, 156,212,214-17,229 

Synthesis Group, 259 

Systems Analysis, Office of, 190 

systems engineering, 90, 91 

systems integration, 90 

Taylor, William, 245 

Teague, Olin, 197 

technology transfer, 42-43 

Technology Utilization, NASA Office of, 

54 

Technology Utilization Division, NASA, 

42 

telemetry, 36 

Ten-Year Plan, 33, 38, 46, 47 

Thomas, Albert, 199 

Thompson, Floyd, 256, 258 

Thor, 11, 70, 212, 219 

Tiros Operational Satellite, 17, 24, 214, 

216 

Titan, 11, 69, 212, 215, 219, 221, 226, 

227, 232, 244, 254 

Titan III-Centaur, 254, 255 

Townes, Charles, 250, 252, 258, 262 

Townsend, John, 132 

Tracking and Data Acquisition, NASA 

Office of, 5, 36, 50, 67, 143, 144, 

161-63, 220 

Tracking and Data Relay Satellite System, 

162, 182 

Transit, 214 

Transportation, U.S. Department of, 143 

Trans-World Airlines, 123, 130 

TRW Inc., 92, 97, 218 

University Affairs, NASA Office of, 54, 

264 

Urey, Harold, 250 

340 

van Allen, James, 251 

Vanguard, 11, 12, 13, 15, 107 

Vecchietti, George J., 73 

Viking sounding rocket, 11, 85, 177

von Braun, Wernher, 4, ll, 13, 16

66, 70, 136, 176, 212, 245, 260, 

310 

von Neumann, John, 11 

Voyager, 25, 53, 85, 114, 134, 147, 

173, 184, 194,226,251,254 

Wallops Station, 169 

Weather Bureau, U.S., 24, 216 

Webb, James E., 4, 6, 7, 8, 18, 19, 20

23, 24, 25, 28, 34, 39, 40, 41, 42

46, 47, 48, 49, 5~ 52, 53, 54, 57

60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 66, 73, 75, 77

81, 88, 90, 94, 101, 109, 110, 112

114, 115, 124, 127, 131, 132, 133

137, 138, 139, 142, 148, 149, 153

160, 161, 168, 172, 173, 177, 186

189, 192, 193, 195,200,208,215

219,221,225,227,231,233,234

242,243,244,248,250,251,252

256,262,267,268,270,311 

Webster, Grove, 108, 132, 133 

Weisner,Jerome, 17, 20, 75, 137 

Welsh, Edward, 18 

Western Operations Office, 15 

Western Support Office, 15 

Western Test Range, 213, 219 

White, Edward, 24 

White House, 12 

White Sands, New Mexico, 11 

wind tunnels, NACA, 10 

Woods Hole, Massachusetts, 252 

work force, NASA, 115-23 

Work Hours Standard Act, 100 

Wyatt, DeMarquis, 35, 54, 60, 142

148,157,160,186,193,194,256

258, 311 

X-15, 213, 255 

XB-70, 229 

York, Herbert, 14 

Young, Jack, 34, 48, 49, 109, 194 
The NASA History Series 

Books may be bought from the Superintendent of Documents, Government Printing 

Office, Washington, DC 20402, or, when out of print, from the National Technical 

Information Service, Springfield, VA 22161. The bookstore in the National Air and Space 

Museum stocks many of the titles, and recent publications are available from the 

Information Center (NHS-27), NASA, Washington, DC 20546. The Information Center 

makes no charge for postage. 

Histories 

Anderson, Frank W., Jr., Orders of Magnitude: A History of NACA and NASA, 1915-1980 

(NASA SP-4403, 2d ed., 1981, ix+ 106 pp.). 

Benson, Charles D., and Williall) Barnaby Faherty, Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch 

Facilities and operations (NASA SP-4204, 1978, xx+636 pp.). 

Bilstein, Roger E., Stages to Saturn: A Technological History of the Apollo /Saturn Launch Vehicles 

(NASA SP-4206, 1980, xx+5ll pp.). 

Boone, W. Fred, NASA Office of Defense Affairs: The First Five Years (NASA HHR-32, 1970, 

multilith, viii+333 pp.). 

Brooks, Courtney G.,James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A 

History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft (NASA SP-4205, 1979, xvii+538 pp.). 

Byers, Bruce K., Destination Moon: A History of the Lunar Orbiter Program (NASA TM X-3487, 

1977, multilith, vi-4ll pp.). 

Corliss, William R., Histories of the Space Tracking and Data Acquisition Network ( STADAN ), the 

Manned Space Flight Network (MSFN), and the NASA Communications Network (NASCOM) 

(NASA CR-140390, 1974, multilith, viii+353 pp.). 

---,A History of the Deep Space Network (NASA CR-151915, 1976, multilith, ix+229 

pp.). 

---,NASA Sounding Rockets, 1958-1968: A Historical Summary (NASA SP-4401, 1971, 

vii+ 158 pp.). 

Ezell, Edward Clinton, and Linda Neuman Ezell, The Partnership: A History of the ApolloSoyuz Test Project (NASA SP-4209, 1978, xx+560 pp.). 

Green, Constance MeL., and Milton Lomask, Vanguard: A History (NASA SP-4202, 1970, 

xvi+308 pp.; also Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1971). 

Hacker, Barton C., and James M. Grimwood, On the Shoulders of Titans: A History of Project 

Gemini (NASA SP-4203, 1977, xx+625 pp.). 

Hall, R. Cargill, Lunar Impact: A History of Project Ranger (NASA SP-4210, 1977, xvii+450 

pp.). 

Hartman, Edwin P., Adventures in Research: A History of Ames Research Center, 1940-1965 

(NASA SP-4302, 1970, xviii+555 pp.). 

Kloman, Erasmus H., Unmanned Space Project Management: Surveyor and Lunar Oribter (NASA 

SP-4901, 1972, ix+4l pp.). 

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341 
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342 
The Author 

Arnold Levine was born in Brooklyn, N.Y., in 1945. He studied at Brooklyn 

College and the University of Wisconsin; from the latter he holds a doctorate in 

European history. Dr. Levine has taught at the City University of New York, 

served as project manager for a Washington-based research firm, and is a senior 

associate within a division of a major management services firm in Arlington, Va. 

In addition to Managing NASA in the Apollo Era, Dr. Levine has written articles 

on the relations of technical education to economic development and has delivered 

papers before the Sixth International Congress on Economic History and the 

American Historical Association. He is currently investigating the acquisition of 

automated data processing systems in selected Federal agencies. 

343 

tl U.S. OOVERNMEm' PRmTING OFFICE : 1982 0 - 36 .. -903 : QL 3