462 Book Reviews TECHNOLOGY AND CULTURE The “outer space” envisioned by pre-20th-century writers and illus trators had more in common with Amerigo Vespucci’s frontier than with Neil Armstrong’s. Space enthusiasts’ reliance on the metaphors of the Adantic and North American reconnaissance betrays more than an ig norance of (or indifference to) the harsher realities ofglobal conquest. It reveals as well an inability to come to terms with the profoundly limited experiences for human touch, sound, smell, movement, and contact with other living things to be had by space voyagers. Second, the rhetorical insistence that “humanity’s destiny” both accounts for and demands more space exploration is highly problem atic. Thus far the vanguard of this “human destiny” has been led by two countries: one in total political and economic disarray, and the other boasting a lower voting rate than France, Portugal, the Neth erlands, Denmark, Italy, and Turkey; more murders per capita than Denmark, France, Spain, Great Britain, and Finland; more rapes per capita than Germany, Switzerland, Austria, and Japan; a lower percentage of middle-class households than Japan, Sweden, Norway, Germany, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Canada, Great Britain, and Australia; and producing more pounds of garbage per capita than Denmark, Great Britain, Spain, and Austria. Third, no author grapples head-on with the most stubborn challenge to the future exploration ofspace. This next frontieris unlikely to become a “land ofopportunity” for the new world’s “huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” That is why, to so many, the space program seems more costly than, in fact, it is. The “blueprint for space” still needs a lot ofwork. Sylvia K. Kraemer Dr. Kraemer is director of the Office of Special Studies at the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. She is the author of NASA Engineers and the Age of Apollo, published under the surname Fries. Cardinal Choices: Presidential Science Advisingfrom the Atomic Bomb to SDI. By Gregg Herken. New York: Oxford University Press, 1992. Pp· xiv + 317; notes, bibliography, index. $24.95. Gregg Herken’s Cardinal Choices is a meticulously researched, comprehensive, and readable volume on an important subject. He describes the history of science advising at the White House from the decision to build the atomic bomb through the end of the Reagan administration. It is the most detailed historical account available; it admirably covers virtually everything written about the subject from formal reports to memorabilia and draws as well on numerous interviews with key participants and policymakers. Regrettably, the publisher chose not to include a valuable compendium of documents that were in an earlier draft. But there is an extensive bibliography and very detailed and useful notes. Herken has rendered great TECHNOLOGY AND CULTURE Book Reviews 463 service by going over the history of presidential science advising with such depth and care. I was constantly enriched and surprised to learn many new details on episodes that I thought I knew well. The book is less successful at an analytical or conceptual level when one starts to grapple with such questions as the “proper” role of scientists in the policy process, the relation of the expert to the politician, and why the golden age of presidential science advising passed and whether it could or should be revived. An initial problem lies with the concept of “cardinal choices.” What, exactly, is a cardinal choice? Evidently, mostly national security issues, following the loose and unsatisfactory definition of C. P. Snow as those “choices that in the broadest sense determine whether we live or die.” This concept provides a serviceable peg on which to hang the analysis for the World War II years and the initial postwar phases; scientists had, if not a monopoly, at least a leading position in knowledge of the technical dimensions of major defense issues. However, the scientists’ position eroded significantly as other presidential staff units gained in impor tance and as political differences within the scientific community and between scientists and politicians intensified in the 1960s. By the middle of the 1960s the president’s science advisers were largely excluded from national security policy-making. This presents some problems for the logic and structure of the book. If the presidential science advisers no longer...
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