The Prometheus Promise The Virgin Galactic Crash and the Price of Defying Our Limitations By Maria-Vittoria “Giugi” Carminati V irgin Galactic is considered to be a frontrunner in the space tourism industry. More than 800 people have already paid or put down deposits for a trip on SpaceShipTwo, at a cost of about $200,000 to $250,000 per person. (The number of people and amount varies based on source.) On October 31, 2014, VSS Enterprise, a Virgin Galactic Scaled Composites Model 339 SpaceShipTwo experimental spaceflight test vehicle, suffered a catastrophic in-flight breakup and crashed in the Mojave Desert, California, United States, while performing a test flight. The copilot, Michael Alsbury, was killed, and the pilot, Peter Siebold, was seriously injured. Although this may sound rote and fall hopelessly short of expressing the depth of my gratitude and empathy, I offer my condolences to the Alsbury family. It is men like him and of his caliber who have made all human advances possible. He is part of history, and we won’t forget. The Accident It is important to first give a brief recap of the accident itself even though, of course, the investigation is ongoing and will continue for awhile. What we know so far is that the feathering system (whereby two wings move into a vertical position perpendicular to the body of the vehicle) deployed too early. Because of this, SpaceShipTwo was still surrounded by too much air and was going too fast, which would have tremendously increased drag and contributed to the vehicle breakup. The feathering system is meant to deploy after two commands. Current reports state that the pilot may have triggered the first command and that for some yet undetermined reason the second command was also triggered, resulting in deployment of the feathering system. The vehicle broke up at approximately 50,000 feet. One of the pilots survived, and one of them didn’t. Neither pilot was able to “eject” himself, contrary to early reports. Siebold reported that his last memory before losing consciousness was feeling “the water boil on his tongue.”1 This is a sign of ebullism—the boiling of water because of the low pressure at certain altitudes around approximately 63,000 feet. Mr. Siebold did not eject from the vehicle. The vehicle, in fact, does not have an ejection system, which is why the vehicle broke up around Siebold, and—according to his account—he was able to eventually unbuckle himself at approximately 17,000 feet. Siebold’s parachute opened, and he was able to (remarkably) survive the accident. Based on these reports and efforts to string together related information, it seems that Siebold lost consciousness while still around 50,000 feet, then regained consciousness where oxygen levels were higher, and while conscious was able to unbuckle and deploy the parachute. Certain reports regarding unheeded “warnings” by engineers prior to the launch were sternly rebuked by Sir Richard Branson of Virgin Galactic who stated that any “no-go” messages would have been heeded.2 Aside from the sensational responses to the accident (discussed below), the accident raised a number of issues regarding design and mission profile; whether and how Virgin Galactic chooses to address these remains to be seen. A few issues are the following. First, the pilots did not have pressure suits. Pressure suits are meant to protect individuals from the extreme low pressures of the upper atmosphere. Virgin Galactic made the decision to omit pressure suits for design reasons: The design of SpaceShipTwo prevented the use of bulky pressure suits. Designer Burt Rutan said that he wanted small hatches to preserve the strength of the pressure vessel of the Published in The SciTech Lawyer, Volume 11, Issue 3, Spring 2015. © 2015 American Bar Association. Reproduced with permission. All rights reserved. This information or any portion thereof may not be copied or disseminated in any form or by any means or stored in an electronic database or retrieval system without the express written consent of the American Bar Association. PHOTO © Steve Jurvetson from Menlo Park, USA [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons SpaceShip Two mated to its carrier, White Knight Two (named Eve after Sir Richard Branson’s mother). Eve is the largest all-composite aircraft ever constructed and has the longest single-piece composite aircraft part: a 140 ft.-long wingspan. composite-construction spacecraft, according to veteran test pilot Paul Tackabury, who sat on the board of directors of Scaled Composites until it was sold to Northrop Grumman. Pilots wear thin jumpsuits when flying the spacecraft.3 Pressure suits could have helped save the crewmembers, but for several reasons they would not necessarily have ensured their survival. On one hand, it is still unclear how Alsbury died and whether a suit would have allowed him to survive. Case in point: Siebold did not have one, and, although his survival is remarkable, it certainly indicates that survival was possible. On the other hand, a standard pressure suit may have helped the crew at that particular altitude—the Red Bull Stratos and the Stratex projects used suits that ensured survival at altitudes of 127,000 and 135,000 feet, respectively— but there is a legitimate question about whether it would make sense to develop a suit capable of ensuring survival at any altitude within the vehicle’s flight profile (which is supposed to reach approximately 328,000 feet).4 Even if Virgin Galactic were to change its approach (which seems unlikely) and require a suit, there still would be a question as to which suit would be most appropriate. Second, as stated above, the vehicle does not have an ejection system. Some have noted that designing and introducing an ejection system into the vehicle would require a massive reengineering of the vehicle itself. These questions are beyond my expertise and are best answered by engineers. The topic is certainly worthy of tracking by the interested public. The Excitement of Scandal What was perhaps most disheartening about the accident was the media’s excitement and (at times misleading) fomenting of “scandal.” For example, the BBC reported that the Virgin Galactic crash was “the second accident this week involving a commercial space company in the US.” BBC was referring to the unmanned supply rocket called Antares that exploded shortly after its launch in Virginia. The Antares rocket was carrying cargo to the International Space Station. This is just one example of numerous misleading and ill-informed statements made in the wake of the accident. The Antares rocket did, indeed, explode. But it did so because the operator engaged the self-destruct sequence once it became evident that the launch was not proceeding under nominal, that is, planned, conditions: Orbital spokesperson Barron Beneski told CNN the crash was initiated by the flight termination system. Such an order is typically given after it’s clear the rocket will not meet its intended trajectory in order to ensure that it goes down over a relatively small and unpopulated area. No injuries were reported in the crash.5 In other words, if anything, the Antares rocket explosion was an example of the system working: an off-nominal launch was interrupted and all danger to surrounding populations was eliminated by the initiation of self-destruction of property. Conflating the Antares rocket explosion and Published in The SciTech Lawyer, Volume 11, Issue 3, Spring 2015. © 2015 American Bar Association. Reproduced with permission. All rights reserved. This information or any portion thereof may not be copied or disseminated in any form or by any means or stored in an electronic database or retrieval system without the express written consent of the American Bar Association. the Virgin Galactic accident to create a pattern of failure is an inaccurate and detrimental connection of events. It is also irresponsible journalism. The Laws Were Designed to Allow This Cries that the FAA will simply “not allow” commercial space carriers to fly customers as a result of the incident by refusing “to certify” the space vehicles also betrays a profound misunderstanding of the laws and the space licensing system in the United States. The FAA and the commercial space industry have a relationship very different from the relationship between the FAA and the airline industry. For example, statements that the FAA has to, but will not, certify suborbital vehicles after the Virgin Galactic accident express a misunderstanding of the laws and regulations governing suborbital flights. In order to understand our current system, the best place to start is the passage of the Commercial Space Launch Act, which governs suborbital flights in the United States. At the time of passage, House Representative Sherwood Boehlert, chairman of the House Committee on Science, explained: Here is what the bill does not do. It does not allow the FAA right now to guess whether some new Maria-Vittoria “Giugi” Carminati practices commercial litigation and criminal defense at Carminati Law PLLC in Houston, Texas, where she is principal attorney. From 2008 to 2013 she practiced complex commercial litigation at the prestigious international law firm Weil, Gotshal & Manges. She then joined the boutique law firm Berg & Androphy, where she represented whistleblowers, criminal defendants, and several energy companies in the business of marketing and transporting energy products. Giugi also has an LLM in Space, Cyber & Telecommunications law. She coauthored The Laws of Spaceflight: A Guidebook for New Space Lawyers, and she taught both space law and pretrial litigation at the University of Houston Law Center. untested rocket technology will do harm to the people onboard. Why? Because this industry is at the stage when it is the preserve of visionaries and daredevils and adventurers. These are people who will fly at their own risk to try out new technologies. These are people who do not expect and should not expect to be protected by the government. Such protection would only stifle innovation.6 Ten years later we are faced with this specific scenario: people who choose to fly to try out new technologies. Sometimes this results in success; sometimes in tragedy. When the FAA passed regulations governing licensing of commercial space in the United States it created a “learning-period moratorium” during which the FAA would not impose regulations on SFP safety. This period is also referred to as the “regulatory learning period.” This learning-period moratorium is set to end on October 1, 2015. Debates regarding whether the period should be extended beyond that were already underway before the Virgin Galactic crash, and, in all likelihood, the accident will be central to debating whether the moratorium should be extended. COMSTAC (the Commercial Space Transport Advisory Committee to the FAA) would like to see the moratorium run eight years from the first commercial flight. Others, such as Associate Administrator George Nield, disagree with COMSTAC regarding the extension. Compromise, however, was likely on the issue of whether operators should be allowed to continue to test and change their design after the end of the moratorium, with all sides agreeing this would be for the best. All of this, however, does not change the fact that the US has adopted—so far—a licensing system and not a certification system for the regulation of commercial space flight. As the laws stand now, the FAA licenses flights—it does not certify them as safe for the people on board. Indeed, the only safety requirement is safety for the uninvolved public. An attempt to raise the specter of regulation without acknowledging this reality misinforms readers and the public. Our Wings Were Paid in Blood From the horse-drawn cart to the car to the airplane and, now, to the space vehicle, innovation always has and always will come at a high cost: human life. That is both an undeniable and commonly forgotten truth. A 19th-century balloonist, David Mahoney, died in an air accident, drowning after his balloon came down in the sea in 1899. This didn’t stop human exploration of the air space above them. Balloons gave way to airplanes, and so humans ushered in a first-of-its-kind pioneering of aviation. This pioneering resulted in the widespread use of daily airline travel for business and pleasure alike, by people all around the globe. This ease of travel and ever-increasing safety came at a price: the death of test pilots, visionaries, engineers, military personnel, and civilians, among others. Access to space will require similar sacrifices. Hopefully not in the same numbers, and hopefully we will be faster and more efficient at learning to travel safely to space. But one fatality will not—if history can teach us anything—put a stop to orbital and suborbital space travel. And statements to the contrary are needlessly sensationalist. A brief review of fatalities in the world of aviation makes it abundantly clear that humanity’s spirit of exploration will stop—quite literally—at nothing. In 1909, Eugene Lefebvre was the first person to die while piloting a powered airplane. In 1911 an aviator died in a Paris to London air race. In 1913, another aviator died in a BordeauxParis air race. In 1919, Raymonde de Laroche—the first woman to earn a pilot’s license—and her copilot died in an experimental aircraft. These are just a few examples spanning 10 years in the history of aviation. The list continues into the ’20s, ’30s, ’40s, and into every decade to this day. The numbers of fatalities per accident, in fact, increased because the capacity of airplanes also increased. In 1970, the Wichita State University football team, as well as its coaches and supporters, Published in The SciTech Lawyer, Volume 11, Issue 3, Spring 2015. © 2015 American Bar Association. Reproduced with permission. All rights reserved. This information or any portion thereof may not be copied or disseminated in any form or by any means or stored in an electronic database or retrieval system without the express written consent of the American Bar Association. died in a plane crash. In 1977, the Tenerife Disaster—which is still the accident with the highest number of airline passenger fatalities—resulted in 583 deaths. In 1985, JAL Flight 123 crashed, killing 520 people. In 1996, the Charkhi-Dadri midair collision killed 349 people. The list goes on and on. Yet humans get on airplanes every day. Indeed, for many professionals, taking an airplane is a routine part of their professional life. In 2014 alone, according to the World Bank, airlines transported 3,023,302,472 passengers worldwide.7 And people generally view airplane travel as safe—despite the number of deaths it has caused along the way. If someone sees the Virgin Galactic accident as a singular unprecedented catastrophic event, they are ignoring the fact that humans sacrifice themselves and each other for technological advancement. We always have; we always will. Although tragic—and a life lost in pursuit of aiding humanity to increase its exploration of the world around it should never be forgotten and never taken for granted—it was, to say it plainly, “part of the deal.” As a member of the space community, I didn’t know Mr. Alsbury, but I lived his death like losing “one of our own.” Rep. Boehlert of the House of Representatives, when passing the Commercial Space Launch Act in 2004, stated, “This industry is at the stage when it is the preserve of visionaries and daredevils and adventurers. These are people who do not expect and should not expect to be protected by the government. Such protection would only stifle innovation.” We are the visionaries and daredevils and adventurers. We choose to go where others don’t want to or are afraid to go. But it is precisely because we are visionaries and daredevils and adventurers that we won’t stop. An interesting firsthand account of the Virgin Galactic crash came from a ticket holder on a future Virgin Galactic flight who also happened to be a print journalist. Jim Clash, a Forbes Contributor, wrote copiously about his training for the suborbital flight. After the accident, he reported being inundated with media requests (a novel experience for a journalist). He explained, quite bluntly, that the accident did not change his resolve to go suborbital: In each interview, I tried to keep my message clear. This is rocket science, and it is difficult. That is why companies like VG test. Can you imagine if the accident had occurred with a ship full of eight people? I also reiterated that I was not giving up on the program, nor was I selling my reservation back (it is 100% refundable). I was in for the long haul.8 This particular comment brings up another interesting aspect. Commentators decrying the risks associated with suborbital flights as being “too high” seem to ignore—or forget—that nobody is being forced to undergo these risks. Individuals are free to engage in suborbital flights or not. In fact, the entry fee to undertake the risks of suborbital flights makes it a privilege; at $200,000– 250,000 per ticket, a Virgin Galactic flight is no “impulse buy.” So when some ask, “Is it worth the risk?” the answer is, “It depends.” Like many things in life, if it’s not for you, don’t do it. But one person’s determination that something is too risky in no way makes the activity too risky as a general matter. And for some, suborbital flights are worth the risk. For others, they are not. Are We Destined to Fall Prey to Liver-Eating Eagles? Prometheus, Titan god of forethought entrusted with the task of molding mankind out of clay, defied Zeus, who had withheld fire from humanity, and stole fire to deliver it to mortal humankind. For his defiant (yet humanity-altering) act, he was sentenced to be bound to a stake and to have an eagle feed on his ever-regenerating liver (or, some say, heart). Prometheus made the ultimate sacrifice to give us fire. When individuals and companies strive to give us humans space travel, it is hard to see them as anything other than Prometheus-like, defying risk, criticism, and the limits of human physiology and engineering to bring us the promise of other worlds. So the question, finally, is whether suborbital flight and—by extension space exploration—are doomed; are we to be punished for our hubris? (I use this word noting that some have indeed accused Richard Branson of hubris as though he were quite literally defying the gods quite like Prometheus did.) BBC quoted space scientist Dr. David Whitehouse’s comment about the Virgin Galactic crash: “I think this shows that there is no such thing as routine, regular safe access to space.” The response, obviously, is, “Of course there isn’t.” Not yet. But this painful path is the one we are on. In fact, progress is often a painful path. The space community—the far-flung yet tightly bound community of space visionaries and lovers—are both humankind and Prometheus. Prometheus’s story is both a tragedy and a promise. We will suffer setbacks and failure, some of us will be punished, some of us will be accused of hubris, but in the end, we will bring fire to humanity and give ourselves the gift of traveling beyond this Earth. That is a promise worth fighting for. u Endnotes 1. See http://www.technobuffalo.com/ 2014/11/13/spaceshiptwo-survivor-said-heremembers-water-boiling-on-his-tongue/. 2. See http://www.nydailynews.com/ news/national/richard-branson-virgingalactic-flight-safe-blasts-self-proclaimedexperts-accident-article-1.1998323. That is what we know to date. 3. See http://www.aero-news.net/index. cfm?do=main.textpost&id=e899567f-4d6c4591-9105-30f545df5e1d. 4. In the interests of full disclosure, I am co-owner of an aerospace company raising funds for a high-altitude bailout project that would require the development of precisely such a suit and aimed at addressing precisely this issue. 5. http://time.com/3550794/ antares-nasa-iss-rocket-explosion/. 6. The Congressional Records, H1004849, daily edition, Nov. 19, 2004 (emphasis added). 7. http://data.worldbank.org. 8. http://www.forbes.com/sites/ jimclash/2014/11/21/virgin-galactic-crashputs-journalist-on-other-side-of-questions/. Published in The SciTech Lawyer, Volume 11, Issue 3, Spring 2015. © 2015 American Bar Association. Reproduced with permission. All rights reserved. This information or any portion thereof may not be copied or disseminated in any form or by any means or stored in an electronic database or retrieval system without the express written consent of the American Bar Association.
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