THE BILLIONAIRE SPACE RACE: WHAT PRICE EXPLORATION?

Fifty-two summers after America put the first men

on the moon, in 2021 a “space race” again captivated the nation. This one generated not the unity the events of 1969 did, but a variety of views that conjured up longstanding questions about equity and

privilege when juxtaposed against the lure of adventure in space. Our reactions reflected that, ranging from the innately practical, through middle range theories, to the spiritual.

This race involved privately funded space forays that to some seemed like joyrides for the rich.  On

July 11, English entrepreneur Richard Branson flew on his company’s Virgin Galactic spaceplane above the 50-mile altitude the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) recognizes as the beginning of space. 

Nine days later, the anniversary of the Apollo 11 landing, Amazon chairman Jeff Bezos and three

others used his company’s Blue Origin rocket  and spacecraft for a ten-minute suborbital flight to an altitude of 66 miles. Bezos and his crew essentially mimicked NASA’s 1961 suborbital missions by Alan Shepard and Gus Grissom, America’s first men in space.

      

Woodson: First, Pay Your Fair Share of Taxes

Jeff Bezos’s space explorations don’t excite me. I 

view this as I view dead beat dads who drive expensive vehicles but don’t make child support payments.

According to ProPublica, a nonprofit news organization that investigates abuses of power, Bezos’s wealth exploded by $3.8 billion in 2007.  In that year and in 2011, he paid no federal income taxes. Between 2006 and 2018, his wealth increased by $127 billion and he paid a .98 per cent tax rate. During the same period, the median household in the United States earned $70,000 per year and paid a 14 per cent tax rate.

Following his flight, Bezos made unintelligible comments about Americans one day traveling into space when the earth becomes unlivable. A seat on that first flight went to the highest bidder at $28 million. That seems out of reach for most Americans.

Bezos said later, “I want to thank every Amazon employee and every Amazon customer because you guys paid for all this.” Mr. Bezos, Americans paid for “all this.” We held the country together with our tax dollars while you withheld yours for your private project.

Robert Reich, President Clinton’s first labor secretary, responded, “Amazon workers don’t need Bezos to thank them. They need him to stop union busting – and pay them what they deserve.”

Bezos should pay his fair share of taxes and let the American people decide when they want to spend money on space exploration. We need him to help the rest of us strengthen our social safety net, save the planet from greenhouse gases, and rebuild our crumbling roads, bridges, and schools.       

Rob:  A Mixed Bag

Few Americans cared more about space exploration than I did during the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo days. I rose at the crack of dawn for launches, missed school a few times, and could name every

astronaut in NASA’s first four groups. I was into it. I still am. I believe space exploration benefits humankind in general and the United States in particular through technological advancement, national security, and scientific progress.

Space exploration, manned and unmanned, can help us address problems like climate change, energy inefficiency, and manufacturing processes. I do not, therefore, condemn the efforts of billionaires as they vie for a role in space exploration.  As one commentator pointed out after the Bezos flight, many things we take for granted began with a wealthy person experimenting with something that seemed far-fetched and just another pleasure for the idle rich. SCHEDULED commercial air service? Nah, that’ll never work.  

Having said that, I’m not unsympathetic to the arguments of the critics, including my brother Walker. Both those who contend billionaires should spend their resources on other things (like higher

wages for their employees) and those who argue space exploration is a job for government have a point. I thought about that as I watched Bezos take off. But, it was still fun. I’m a sucker for rocket launches. Always have been. Always will be.      

Henry:  Discovery

I don’t find billionaires investing in space exploration difficult. It’s not my focus in this post. I agree with Woodson’s sentiment and  hope those moneyed interests will use their funds to invest in space exploration and in practical and immediate efforts that benefit humankind. We can walk and chew gum at the same time. The issue reminds me of the love I have had, and still have, for flight and space exploration.

As a kid I collected model airplanes and subscribed to every publication I could on flight and space. My

junior high career book detailed a career in the Air Force as a test pilot and space explorer. I sought appointment to the Air Force Academy to further that dream, but my senators weren’t ready.

Today, my cell phone contains Skyview, NASA, Skywalk, and Satellite Tracker apps. I may have

cared more about space exploration than Rob during the early days. I agree with him on the benefits of space exploration. An aspect of the human spirit demands this stretch of the imagination and investigation of the difficult and

seemingly impossible. My longing tugs at philosophical and spiritual components. That we still reach for the stars strengthens my faith in our ability to carve a path toward our destiny. We are a part of all that space contains.

              If in a twinkle lies eternity

               and all we discover is known

               all encompassing must be the Power

               to hold us and time for so long

 

                If I am stretched from boundary to boundary

                and yet can be reduced to less than a single atom

                where lies that in between for all 

                and rushes forth for each of us to complete

 

                If we are but a single thought

                strung throughout Eternity

                of what wonderful thread

                to form us are we sewn 

ATTENDING TWO REUNIONS

This time, Rob shares an essay he wrote for a church service on family. This piece looks back at his experiences in the ‘60s and asks that Americans act now and spare their children the pain, divisiveness, and turbulence of the past, and even of today.  

High school class reunions generate many emotions – longing for days gone by,    excitement at seeing old friends,regret about roads not taken, reflection on life and what it’s meant, realization of mortality and all it implies. I never thought, however, reunions would generate sadness and apprehension for my children’s future. That’s what happened this summer as a result of attending two class reunions. Those reunions drive my thoughts about family this fall. 

 

My 50^th

Two Thousand Nineteen marks 50 years since I graduated from high school. Due to an odd circumstance, I got to go to two reunions. The thoughts and feelings they generated offer a commentary on the past, on our times, and, unfortunately, on the times my family may see in the future. 

I’m a member of the graduating class of Dollarway High School of 1969. The Dollarway School District lies on the western edge of Pine Bluff, Arkansas. I attended DHS from the beginning of my sophomore year until graduation.

I grew up in Hope, Arkansas, so until we moved to Pine Bluff,

I attended school there. I finished my  freshman year at Hope's Yerger High in the spring of 1966.

Like most school systems in the South in the 1960s, the

Hope and Dollarway districts found themselves caught up in the battle over desegregation. Both operated dual school systems. Blacks attended one set of schools and whites another -- by law. They called it de jure segregation.

The Dollarway and Hope districts resisted ending their dual systems by using so-called “freedom-of-choice” plans. Students and their parents could choose the school they preferred. This resulted in desegregation in name only. No whites attended the black schools. A few blacks attended the white schools. Only two other black students graduated from Dollarway with me in 1969.

The federal courts and the United States Department of Health, Education and Welfare ultimately decided the constitution required unitary systems – one set of schools for everyone. That fall—after my graduation – in both districts, the black schools and the white schools merged. That freshman class I started with was, therefore, the last graduating class Yerger High ever had, as

Back of Yerger 50th Reunion T-shirt

the back of the 50^th reunion t-shirt proclaims. I remained friends with some members of that class and they kindly invited me to their reunion in early July. Two weeks before, I attended my Dollarway class reunion.

Initially, both reunions left me joyous about renewing old acquaintances and reliving my youth. But, as they say in the National Football League, “upon further review,” I saw things differently. 

I had a positive experience at Dollarway. For the most part,  it

was what high school should be – a time of personal growth, youthful exploration, and adolescent experimentation. I had a few racially uncomfortable moments there as I will explore in my forthcoming book The Dollarway Syndrome: Race, Individual Goodwill, and the Continuing Struggle for Equality. By and large, however, my Dollarway

experience left me with warm feelings. That’s what the reunion reminded me of – positive emotions associated with football games, bonfires, drama club meetings, and track practice.

The Yerger reunion provided pleasant moments of a different

kind. I loved spending time both  with the friends with whomI’ve stayed in touch and those I hadn’t seen in ages. I appreciated learning about their triumphs and tragedies, reminding me of the miniscule margin between success and disaster. I didn’t do high school with the Yerger graduates, but they’re good people who played a meaningful role in my past.

Some Things Never Change

Despite the good feelings, generated by different circumstances at the two reunions, being at both reminded me of something else – America’s unfinished business with race. Both school districts have re-segregated. 

Dollarway, nearly all-white when I started there in 1966, is now about five per cent white, the rest of its student population black and Hispanic. Hope is about 20% white, the rest black and Hispanic.

It happened at Dollarway because whites left for private schools and because real estate developers built subdivisions in far out suburban areas. In Hope, a few private academies opened, and some white parents transported their children to a nearby rural district that welcomed them with open arms. So, fifty years after the battles I witnessed in the ‘60s, America still fights wars about race. The reunions reminded me of the depressing fact a good chance exists my children will likely still be fighting about race at the time of their 50^th class reunions. The battles won’t be the same as those of my youth, or even the ones of today.  But so many signs I can see say their society will face racial turmoil. That makes me very sad. I so much wish we would decide we don’t want that for our children, that we really are one family, and do something about it ourselves --- NOW.