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Originally Posted by Emily Carney | Jun 13, 2020 | National Space Society
In Scientist-Astronauts, Chapman held nothing back: “To put it plainly, it seemed to me that Deke had no understanding that leadership is a two-way street, and no vision of spaceflight beyond keeping it as his own little fiefdom. Furthermore, he apparently thought that the only legitimate purpose of a space mission was flight testing a vehicle; that science in space was a worthless distraction, and that scientists were inherently unacceptable as astronauts, regardless of their flying skills.” To be fair, Chapman wasn’t the first astronaut or spaceflight personality to disagree with Slayton’s decisions around this time period (for example, his decision to let Alan Shepard command Apollo 14 has been criticized by some as Mercury 7 cronyism).
During this time, Chapman would face more opposition from Slayton when he tried to design scientific duties for astronaut Stuart Roosa, Apollo 14’s command module pilot. According to Chapman, Roosa approached him asking for a list of more scientific tasks he could undertake while he orbited the Moon during his crewmates’ EVAs. Chapman suggested an attempt to image Kordelewski clouds (faint clouds believed to exist at Lagrangian points L4 and L5); he stated, “All [Roosa] had to do was to point a camera in the right direction at the right time, and he might make a major scientific discovery.” However, Slayton was not happy with this idea, and Chapman reported, “he carpeted Stu and me.” While Chapman argued that focusing on formal experiments left Roosa ample spare time in which he could undertake meaningful scientific work, Slayton was unmoved, and even stated rather punitively that Roosa would be removed from the flight and banned from other flights if he did impromptu experiments.
Slayton soon found another hill to die upon: according to Chapman, he sent a memo to all astronauts stating that TV reporters judged a mission’s success by its number of completed objectives. It became painfully obvious to Chapman that by limiting scientific objectives, the number of overall objectives was smaller and more achievable, signifying “mission success” to the media. Here, Chapman’s Australian “insubordination” (his word) would surface again: “I was dumbfounded by the idea that the way to increase interest in spaceflight was to minimize the useful results…I told Deke what I thought of his new policy.” Ironically, the same outspokenness and boldness that had likely impressed the astronaut selection board in 1967 – and his astronaut group colleagues, including O’Leary – now seemed to work against him. And within 18 months, the cancellation of a space station that held promise for Chapman would spell what he viewed as the death knell of his astronaut career.
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