Sergey Krikalev is a softly spoken, humble gentleman. Meeting him, you wouldn’t guess he’s been awarded the highest accolades of both the Soviet Union and Russia – he’s a hero of both. With six spaceflights and eight spacewalks under his belt, he was, until very recently, the holder of the record for most time spent in space – over 803 days…. That’s more than two years spent orbiting the planet. But “I didn’t do it for the record” he says.
As if that’s not enough, he was the first Russian to fly on NASA’s space shuttle, was part of ISS Expedition 1 – the first construction mission, and is also sometimes referred to as “the last Soviet” on the basis he left the USSR for space, and by the time he came back to Earth, it no longer existed!
I first met Sergey at a conference about the International Space Station, held in Berlin in 2012. It was a fascinating event, with representatives from the major ISS partners discussing the benefits of the space station, what an incredible feat of engineering and cooperation it is, and sharing some of the science that had come from it.
My friend, cosmonaut Anton Shkaplerov, had just returned to Earth from a six month stay aboard the ISS, his first trip to space. I was keen to hear how he was doing, and after a presentation Sergey gave, I went up to ask him, as head of the cosmonaut office, if Anton was okay. He was fine I heard, and I made way or all the autograph hunters wishing for Sergey to sign their programmes.
It was only really then that I realised that I’d spoken to quite the legend in spaceflight (or indeed any) terms, and I wished that I’d been able to talk to him some more.
A little later during the conference, at a dinner at a local museum, I found myself walking round the collection of communication instruments and old telephones with Sergey. He was keen to learn about things, to take everything in, and he enjoyed walking and talking. I learned about his past as an acrobatic pilot – a national champion no less – and was keen to hear more about his time in space.
He’s humble, fascinating, incredibly smart, and there is a sparkle in those blue-grey eyes as he makes a little joke here and there. I ask him whether they ever had vodka in space. “Vodka in space is bad” he tells me, and I’m not sure if he’s reprimanding me for suggesting that they might be daft enough to risk mixing the highly technical environment of a space station with alcohol. He follows up by saying “but Cognac…”- he gives me a smile and says no more.
Like many Russians, Sergey usually looks serious, concentrated. I look through images of him in space, and even there, as he floats around and enjoys the view of Earth, there’s only ever the hint of a smile – except one picture, where he’s dressed in an orange ACES suit, ahead of his space shuttle mission I suspect, grinning widely. I ask him why that is, why he doesn’t smile more, and he tells me that Russians smile when there is a good reason to smile.
It’s been three years since I last saw Sergey – his visa for the International Astronautical Conference in Toronto last year didn’t come through in time – so I’m pleased to see him in London at the opening of the new Cosmonauts exhibition at the Science Museum. He sees me, and smiles. I’m happy he still remembers me. What follows is the best tour of an exhibition charting the birth of the space age that you could wish for, until he’s whisked away for a VIP dinner by some important looking Russians (who I later find out are the Head and Deputy of the Russian space company Energia).
He points out the Soyuz engine at the entrance, tells me about the sample return mission to the Moon that the Russians carried out even before the US made it there. If you listen to the experts at NASA, they will tell you that all the Moon rock on Earth belongs to NASA – they are the only ones who brought it back. Perhaps that is correct, but we shouldn’t overlook the fact that the Russians also managed to bring back a sample, I’m guessing it’s a small amount of “regolith” or Moon dust – so technically not Moon “rock”. They still have it, explains Sergey, and much research has been done.
I discover he has a new role in the Russian space world. He’s working on future missions, looking at possible paths out of low Earth orbit, a post-ISS future.
I ask whether this is an area that the Russians are looking into alone, or as part of a new international collaboration, and he tells me that this is an international endeavour. “What about China?” I ask. There have been discussions, he says, but these haven’t come to much as it sounds as though China wants to collaborate on things that would help them, but not necessarily fit with the overall goals of other partners.
What about the ISS itself? While the US side is now considered “complete” – there are no more modules to add – Russia was planning to send a new module back in 2013. This never happened, but is still on the books, slated for launch in 2016. With a new module and docking port, could this make the Russian segment of the space station viable without the US side? (Currently the two halves are reliant on each other for a number of things.) He doesn’t think so, so it seems that when the partners decide to end ISS operations, it really will be the end of the orbital outpost that has hosted people for the past 15 years.
As part of the space station generation, I’m a little sad to think of it crashing back through the atmosphere, with anything that doesn’t burn up, likely laying on the seabed forever more.
But at least he’s thinking of the future, and despite much change in the upper echelons of the Russian space sector, he seems hopeful for the future and enjoying his work. I will be interested to see where it takes him, and of course, the rest of humanity.
NASA Administrator Major General Charles Bolden was in London last week to receive an honorary fellowship from the Royal Aeronautical Society. Attending the lecture that accompanied the award I knew to expect inspirational words – eloquently spoken – with glimpses of the personal reasons that NASA’s mission is so important to him. There would be updates on NASA’s diverse missions, hope for the future, and an emphasis on the global importance of international cooperation to enable our journey to Mars.
What I did not expect, (and could not even have even dreamed), was that the head of the world’s most famous and successful space agency, would pick me out from the crowd, personally introduce me to the audience as “SpaceKate” and publicly set me a challenge to get more young people involved and engaged with space.
Yet that’s exactly what happened.
“I’ll be checking up” he said as I battled the urge to squeak with excitement and hoped I wasn’t glowing red with humble embarrassment. Internally I welled up with pride.
When the Head of NASA issues you a personal challenge, what do you say?
There’s only one thing you can say of course – “Challenge accepted”.
Anyone who knows me knows that I like a challenge, so rather than just bask in the glory that Charlie Bolden knows my name, I immediately got thinking about what I could possibly do to rise to the challenge, and repay the great kindness he’s shown me over the years.
I offered to help the Royal Aeronautical Society Space Committee in any way I can, encouraged younger members of the audience that I met at the reception to join UKSEDS and the Space Generation Advisory Council, and am pushing to organise SpaceUp:UK (#2) for later this year. I will continue to talk to any and everyone about space, to blog, appear on Sky News (for as long as they invite me!) and pass on stickers, pins and any other space goodies to people I sense will treasure them. But all those are the sort of things that I would be doing anyway, and a challenge like this deserves something a bit extra.
Looking round the audiences of space-related events at the British Interplanetary Society and even the Royal Aeronautical Society, I can see why Charlie issued to the challenge he did. If we’re going to talk about the future we need to ensure that the people who will help make it happen – and will live it – are included and engaged. But there’s more to it than that for me – it’s not just youth that the industry needs, but diversity too. So how do we become more inclusive?
Not enough female engineers? Perhaps we should tackle the way we describe engineering, ensure that we properly link what is taught in schools with what is taught at university, and most importantly, show how it impacts the real world (not just exam answers!).
Not enough young people at space events? Let’s think about where we advertise them, and consider whether they are truly accessible?
How can we ensure diversity? How can we reach people around the country, from different backgrounds, different cultures? How can we ensure that young voices in the UK are heard both by the community here and on the global stage? How do we connect them with politicians, agencies, budget holders?
In my mind, education is the key – and while research has shown that good teachers can be the most important things that lead people into science, the converse can also be true. Non-formal learning is another important way of introducing children to science in creative and engaging ways. But what about those families less able to get out to museums or events? How do we reach non-traditional audiences and bring them along on this exciting journey into the future? These are all big questions, and so I need your help…
For decades people have imagined a future where people have personal rocket packs or zip around the place in their jet cars, but that future has never quite happened. If we want to inspire the next generation of space professionals, we have to inspire them early on, and “make it real”. We need to empower them to build the future that they want to see, and show them that science and engineering are key to that future – not just abstract concepts.
The future I want to see is one where your background, class, nationality, gender, etc makes no difference to your chance of being a leading scientist, engineer, astronaut or whatever you want to be.
So how can I achieve that? Well I can’t, not without help – your help – and that’s why I’m asking you to join me to take on Administrator Bolden’s challenge, and help inspire the next generation of space fans. I’ve got a plan…
Okay, not literally, but give them a boost – open their eyes to what’s possible – perhaps they’ll be the one that makes personalised jetpacks real for all of us!
Don’t underestimate the power of small things to make a difference. For me it was a NASA pin badge, kindly gifted to me by NASA’s Dr Chris McKay. There is always something that you can do – all of you.
Meeting a real person, who worked for real NASA changed my life. It transformed space from something cool that you see in films to something worked on by real people. It sounds daft, but growing up in East London, even doctors and lawyers felt like a different species, let alone people working for space agencies.
The best way to describe the feeling is to say that NASA, space, astronauts etc – they were like Father Christmas; you know they exist, but you’re never going to meet them. I’ve been lucky enough to meet all sorts of amazing people, so I try to share that with as many others as I can, to make it real for them. I like to think of it as my way of paying forward the kindness shown to me – but what can else we do?
If we use our experiences, our skills, our professions, our influence – our passion – we can open up the space profession to young people who might not even realise it’s an option. The more people who realise that the space industry is real, and something to aim for, the better.
Are you a scientist, a teacher, an engineer, technologist, or careers advisor? Perhaps you’re a storyteller, space enthusiast, or an explorer? I need you all, and many more, to spread the message that the space industry is open to all, that science and engineering are essential for the future, and that people can help make their dreams reality and take humanity forward.
I’m building a list of resources to help you on your missions – information for teachers, organisations you can join or encourage others to join, competitions, events, and general cool space news that you can share with other people. Encourage others to share them and inspire more young people to get involved, and get your peers to accept this challenge and make a pledge too. If I can get two people to take on the challenge, and they each get two more and so on, we really can make a difference.
With your help we can reach new people, non-traditional audiences, and help develop the next generation of space professionals.
Together we can change the future.
Not everything has to be grand gestures remember – so think about what you can do to open doors and ignite a spark of passion, and then do it. Tell people about your work, nurture enthusiasm, share space goodies, give talks in schools, tell you teacher friends about things their schools can get involved with. There are a whole host of different ways you can help.
My pledge is to make SpaceUp:UK happen (again) and to offer to talk my old school and share my experiences to help students see it’s not just the world, but the entire solar system that’s their (proverbial) oyster. I’m making that pledge publicly so that you can hold me to it.
Share your pledge in the comments below – and let’s make things happen. Help me build up a useful list of resources.
If you’re from a traditionally under-represented background and have ideas about how to make things more inclusive please do get in touch and share your ideas.
Let’s see if we can start something together, to get more people interested, engaged, and eventually involved in the space industry and bring them on the journey to Mars.
Space didn’t feel like an option for me when I was young, but meeting someone from NASA made it real for me. Now I’m friends with Charlie Bolden(!!!) so if that’s possible, just think what the next generation of scientists and engineers could achieve.
Then join me: Take on Charlie’s Challenge and pledge to introduce the wonderful world of exploration, science, and engineering to future members of the space family.
Make your pledge to do something – do it now – and keep us all updated. After all, the Head of NASA will be checking up, so let’s show him what passionate people we have here in the UK (and around the world) and that we can make a difference.
Ad astra my friends! Let’s go!
Follow me on Twitter as @SpaceKate to keep updated with the latest space news (and my mad adventures!)
So you wanna land on Mars?
Yeah – sounds good. Got any tips?
Well first off: Good luck!
What do you mean “good luck”? – we’re talking about rocket science aren’t we?
Yeah, and if you spend any time with rocket scientists you’re going to hear someone say “space is hard”. That’s because it is. In fact 50% of missions that intended to land on Mars have resulted in failure.
That means 50% succeeded though, right?
You’re right! Okay, so you still wanna give it a go? Getting things to Mars is hard enough, but ensuring you don’t then just smash them straight into the planet requires another level of expertise. You need a way to slow them down.
Let’s look at the current state of play. We’re still using parachute technology from the 1970s. The Viking landers used it back in 1976, and most recently Mars Science Laboratory used it, together with sky cranes and other pyrotechnic gizmos to land Curiosity on the red planet.
So what’s the problem? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it…
Sort of. The issue is that the Viking-era parachutes have limitations in terms of the amount of mass they can be used to land. MSL (Curiosity) has a mass of around a tonne, but if we want to explore further, take more instruments, and eventually take people to Mars, you’ll need to be able to transport much more than a small 4×4-sized rover like Curiosity.
Our current landing capability on Mars is about 1.5 tonnes, so one of the first steps on the technology development path to Mars is working out how to land larger masses.
You mean (to coin a phrase from Jaws) “we’re gonna need a bigger boat”?
Exactly – though it’ll be less boat, more space ship! If you want to land people on Mars you will have to send them up with the supplies that they need to survive. Food, water, air, habitats, rovers, tools and medical supplies will all have to be sent from Earth. You’ll also want an ascent vehicle so that you can get back off the surface to come home again.
How much cargo are we talking here?
Well NASA’s Bill Gerstenmaier, who looks after Human Exploration and Operations, reckons you’re looking at needing around 15-20 tonnes of cargo for a human mission to Mars. Bearing in mind the biggest thing we’ve landed on the red planet so far was Curiosity, at less than a tonne, that would require a big jump up from our current capability.
Well you use rockets to get you there, can’t you use rockets to slow you down too?
Slowing things down from supersonic speeds would take a lot of rocket fuel, but when every kilo counts – and costs – you want to minimise the mass you are launching. In fact to slow your vehicle down with rockets would require about the same amount of fuel as you needed to launch it, which makes it pretty unviable.
The idea behind Viking’s parachute technique is to use atmospheric drag to slow down the vehicle. The issue is that with very little atmosphere on Mars compared with Earth, you are limited in the amount of drag – and braking – that you can achieve with the parachutes.
For smaller landers, that can be enough to allow you to employ other techniques, like using retro rockets, cushioning your lander in an inflatable structure, or the famous MSL skycrane, but for larger masses, you need to do much more to counteract the greater momentum that they have.
We’re also limited in where we can land on Mars. We need all the distance we can get to slow down, so mountains and areas of higher altitude on Mars are currently out of the question as landing sites.
Is the Martian atmosphere really so different from ours?
Yes. If you think of the atmosphere of Mars as being like water, Earth’s atmosphere is more like PVA glue – it’s much thicker in terms of its viscosity. Not only that, but the thickness in terms of how high it reaches above the planet, is much less than that of Earth’s atmosphere too. Imagine you’re on a diving board hoping for a soft landing – it’s the difference between jumping into an inch of water, or a whole pool of glue. I know which I’d choose.
Since there is hardly any atmosphere on Mars, it makes it not only hard for landing, but also means that there isn’t the same protection from radiation on Mars that we get from Earth’s atmosphere. That’s why radiation shielding and underground habitats are being considered.
So what can we do?
That’s the question that scientists and engineers at NASA are trying to answer at the moment. The Jet Propulsion Lab (JPL) is respected as a centre for excellence for entry, descent and landing (EDL) and they are leading a cross-agency experiment to test new solutions to the problem. They’ve recently conducted the second test of the low density supersonic decelerator project – LDSD.
Wait – I heard about that – the thing that looks like a flying-saucer?
That’s the one! Actually there are two parts to LDSD. The “flying saucer” that you’re talking about is their test vehicle, which includes a supersonic inflatable aerodynamic decelerator, or SIAD. Then there’s also an enormous supersonic parachute, called a supersonic ring sail.
Supersonic inflatables? Are you making this up?
No! Inflatable structures are NASA’s way of “packing light”. Basically around the rim of the spacecraft they have added an inflatable ring that increases the diameter of the spacecraft. The larger surface area means it creates a larger drag, thus slowing the vehicle down more effectively. On the journey to Mars this would be packaged up inside the craft and it can then be deployed to help slow it down.
SIAD slows the craft down from around four times the speed of sound (Mach 4) to around two-and-a-half times the speed of sound (Mach 2.5).
But that’s still going faster than Concorde?
Yes, but it is hoped that a special supersonic parachute – at 30.5m diameter, the largest ever! – will slow the vehicle down to below the speed of sound (Mach 1).
You said they’re testing it – you mean they sent it to Mars?
Sending things to Mars without testing them on Earth is not only risky, and extremely costly, but due to the positioning of the planets, we only get a launch window every couple of years. The LDSD team realised that the upper reaches of Earth’s atmosphere – the stratosphere – has similar properties to the atmosphere of Mars.
By filling a gigantic (as in, could fill an American football stadium gigantic) balloon with helium, they were able to lift the test craft up to 120,00ft (36.5Km). They then stabilised it, released it from the balloon and used a rocket engine to boost it right up to the edge of the stratosphere – 180,000ft (55Km) above Earth – that’s around 20Km higher than Felix Baumgartner was when he did his jump from “the edge of space”
Don’t stop now – what happened?
The vehicle was travelling at around Mach 3 and the inflatable element, SIAD, deployed and all indications are it worked perfectly. It is the second time this version of SIAD (SIAD-R) has been tested, and both tests went well.
What about the parachute?
The parachute deployed, but “didn’t perform as expected” according to NASA.
In other words it failed?
That’s not how we like to look at these things. Although the parachute was ripped apart despite being reinforced with Kevlar, and being redesigned since last year’s test when the parachute was shredded, the team have still got some useful data. It’s all about testing, learning and improving for next time – and that’s why it’s good to be able to test things on Earth before sending them thousands of miles away into space.
What happens next?
The team will look at the data and reflect on this test. The next LDSD test is scheduled for summer 2016 – so we’ll have to wait until then to see if they have managed to fix the parachute problem.
But NASA is still planning on going to Mars?
Yep. They want to land humans on an asteroid in 2025 and then humans on Mars in the 2030s. You can find out more on their Journey to Mars pages on the NASA website.
Genial astronaut Ron Garan reminds us to put away our cynicism and rekindle the “anything is possible” attitude we had as bright young dreamers before the realities of everyday adult life came to bear…
In his new book, The Orbital Perspective: Lessons in Seeing the Big Picture from a Journey of 71 Million Miles, Ron Garan draws not only on his time in space – from which the book, and the central premise take their name – but on all the partnerships, and international collaborations that were needed to get him there. He uses the International Space Station (ISS), an enormous feat of engineering and international bridge building, as an example of what can be achieved if we all pull together in the same direction – and wonders what could be achieved to alleviate the imbalances and suffering at ground level if we could capture the same spirit of collaboration and focus it on these issues.
As a huge fan of human spaceflight, I couldn’t help but get goosebumps reading the sections about his mission to the ISS, especially as he describes his first launch on space shuttle Discovery. Having seen (and felt) shuttle launches in person, I am always gripped by these personal accounts of launching into space, so I enjoyed living vicariously through his words as I myself was jostled about on the tube to work.
These accounts of his time in space are not the main focus of the book, but rather they help in bringing you along on his journey of discovery that has led to this current goal of connecting people, organisations, nations, and businesses to share experiences and knowledge and ultimately, to help change the world for the better.
While numerous astronauts have spoken of the wonder of seeing the Earth from above, with some speaking about the way this has profoundly changed their outlook (the ‘overview effect’), Garan is keen to point out that the orbital perspective is about more than just seeing the Earth from above and contemplating it differently – it requires action. He’s also quick to reassure you that you don’t have to have experienced being in orbit to understand – or to take – an orbital perspective (though I’d be up there in a shot anyway, given half the chance).
Garan’s orbital perspective is all about realising that we are all interconnected and sharing a ride through the universe together on spaceship Earth – our Fragile Oasis. Realising that (and I quote The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy here) “you might think it’s a long way down the road to the chemist, but that’s peanuts to space”.
We’re all in this together – if you can step back far enough to see the picture in global, planetary terms, rather than getting lost in teams, groups, cliques, nationalities and the like. It makes perfect sense when you look at it that way (though in the midst of an election campaign things never seem quite so clear!).
I’ve certainly heard astronauts say “you can’t see any borders when you’re in space”, which has always been quite a wonderful, comforting thought. I was quite shocked then, to read that while taking some photographs, Garan had actually been able to pick out the marking of the border between India and Pakistan.
“Seeing that border from space, a true barrier to collaboration, had a huge effect on me” he writes, then describing the “sobering contradiction between the staggering beauty of our planet and the unfortunate realities of life on our planet for many of its inhabitants”. It was this moment that led him to the idea of the orbital perspective.
Garan describes the orbital perspective as the call to action that comes from the overview effect – that change in perception that astronauts described after having looked back at the world from the unique viewpoint of space.
“The key”, he says, “is ‘we’”. Nothing is impossible if we can connect the right people, use the bigger picture to help us overcome our cultural and political differences, and work together to solve the world’s greatest problems.
As a born dreamer, a person that challenges the notion of “impossible” (until it comes to the laws of physics), and someone who takes pride in making things happen, I find myself quite intoxicated by this idea. It’s exciting, it’s positive, it’s people working together to make things better. I love it.
Before we get too carried away, Garan reminds us that while the big picture is all very well, you have also got to consider the “worms-eye view”. In standing back to ensure that you see the whole picture, you are undoubtedly missing the intricate details that create it. Without an understanding of the realities of life on the ground, no matter how perfect your solutions might seem from afar, they could fail at the first hurdle. You need to ensure that you explore both extremes of perspective in order to identify schemes that can work in the long term, and also improve the everyday lives of people.
It’s not a simple task, but Garan returns to the way that the ISS project was realised and created, using the essential skills and contributions (both physical and intellectual) from two previously warring nations.
He pays tribute to all those who went the extra mile, working to build up the strong –at times vital – personal relationships that allowed Russia and the United States to come together and work as indispensable partners in space. The message is clear – if humanity can put aside its differences and create an orbital space station – continuously inhabited by multinational crews for over a decade – why can’t we achieve other great things?
Garan also turns to the example of nations, companies and intellectuals coming together to help free the Chilean miners in 2010. It was a do or die situation and those in charge were smart (and humble) enough to know that this wasn’t something that they could do alone. With contributions and coordination, including utilising NASA’s experience and knowledge of living in confined spaces, what could have been a deadly national disaster became an incredible international rescue story, touching people around the globe.
There’s no doubting that great things can be achieved, and that we could all benefit from a more global way of thinking, but how do we make that happen?
Garan talks about schemes that are already bringing people together, hackdays like NASA’s International Space Apps Challenge and organisations like Engineers Without Borders, his enthusiasm is infectious. He also talks about the need to ensure that we don’t just double up our efforts, but rather coordinate and work together to build even more impactful solutions.
This is an inspiring book that I would encourage everyone to read – I’ve already passed it on to the director of the charitable foundation that I work for – and there are definite lessons to be taken from it. Not only in the big picture sense of making the world a better place, but there are many everyday lessons that could make the average workplace better. Issues that he identifies that particularly affect non-profits – quick turnover of younger staff members who come to do something good and experience new places for a while, before being enticed away with higher paying careers – can have an effect in many places.
The communication channels between vibrant directors and leaders with a strong vision and those on the bottom rungs of organisation, who may be full of new ideas and perspectives, need to flow. All too often there can be a sticking point in the hierarchy and bureaucracy of managers in-between.
Garan also opens our eyes to headline-grabbing charitable projects that may not have the required infrastructure behind them to ensure that the initial benefit lasts. A striking example Garan explores is why charities may prefer to install new water-pumps, rather than spend money ensuring that existing ones can be restored and maintained for many years. It’s all about how we measure success, and a system of funding that may be hostage to the need for headlines in order to raise new funds.
With the ever-increasing disparities in wealth around the globe it is obvious that the system is broken. Garan’s book reminds me of the optimism and hope that I had as a child, and that I still have, despite various battle scars from life.
Garan makes us believe in the potential to make a difference, together, but I guess my biggest question, having read the book, is “what can I do?” – I’m not an engineer, or a coder, but I do have enthusiasm and ideas. I’m still working on how I can be useful, so if you have the answer, let me know!
The book is (not wanting to sound dismissive) idealistic, but importantly he ensures there is substance behind the idealism. Whether Garan’s orbital perspective has the strength to help fix our global problems remains to be seen, but it’s certainly a step in the right direction and I’ve got every confidence in him to inspire people to help make a difference - I can vouch for his personal charisma and charm.
Viewers of the X-Files may recall a poster in Fox Mulder’s office, which sums up my feelings about the orbital perspective and it’s energetic optimism about our ability to work together and change the world: “I want to believe”