Uncertainty over U.S. space policy trajectory frees other nations to chart their own paths

When the U.S. Air Force showed only a tepid interest in unmanned aircraft, a small San Diego company, General Atomics, decided to build them on its own dime. So when the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks hit and U.S. forces were suddenly sent to combat guerilla-like forces in the mountains of Afghanistan, the company's Hellfire-equipped Predators were not just a concept—they were in production.

NASA is spending about $3 million on the initial SEP studies, originally set up by the technology element in the Human Exploration and Operations Mission Directorate.

On Jan. 17, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton announced that the U.S. would not sign the EU's Code of Conduct for Outer Space Activities. Instead, the U.S. would invite other spacefaring states, including members of the EU, to negotiate an International Code of Conduct for Outer Space Activities using the EU document as a launching point. The administration's new direction should not come as a surprise, but will prove counterproductive in achieving its own goals.

Growing interest in small satellites and the problem of how to launch them affordably could provide hypersonic system developers with a long-awaited first step on the way to reusable, routine access to space.

It has been almost 50 years since Mariner 2 became the first space probe from Earth to return scientific data from another planet. The swarms of ever-more-sophisticated robotic spacecraft that followed have changed our view of the planets around our Sun in ways that seem incredible today. On Aug. 27, 1962, when Mariner 2 lifted off for Venus, many scientists believed Earth's sunward neighbor was a steamy jungle planet beneath its clouds. Data from the two-channel microwave radiometer on Mariner 2 quickly disabused everyone of that notion. Passing within 22,000 mi.