Short History Of... - The Space Shuttle Challenger Disaster

Episode Date: July 12, 2026

In 1986, seven astronauts boarded Space Shuttle Challenger for what was meant to be a routine tenth flight of the orbiter. Seventy-three seconds after lift-off, the shuttle broke apart in front of millions of viewers, in what remains one of the worst disasters in the history of human spaceflight.   But how did a craft NASA claimed was as safe as an airliner come to fail in full view of a watching nation? Who knew the risks, and when? And why, seventeen years later, did it happen again? This is a Short History Of the Space Shuttle Challenger Disaster. A Noiser podcast production. Hosted by John Hopkins. With thanks to Dr. Matthew Hersch, an historian at New York and Harvard universities, and author of Dark Star: A New History of the Space Shuttle. Written by Kate Harrison | Produced by Kate Simants | Production Assistant: Chris McDonald | Exec produced by Katrina Hughes | Sound supervisor: Tom Pink | Sound design by Mirianna Pitman-Latham and Matthew Peaty | Assembly edit by Dorry Macaulay | Compositions by Oliver Baines, Dorry Macaulay, Tom Pink | Mix & mastering: Cody Reynolds-Shaw | Fact check: Sean Coleman Unlock the next two episodes of Short History Of… right now by subscribing to Noiser+. You’ll also get ad-free listening and early access to shows across the Noiser podcast network, including Real Survival Stories and Sherlock Holmes Short Stories. Just click the subscription banner at the top of the feed, or head to www.noiser.com/subscriptions to get started. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It's the morning of the 28th of January, 1986. At Concord High School, New Hampshire, a 14-year-old student joins her classmates as they burst into the auditorium. As well as over 1,000 fellow students and staff, camera crews are lined up in the aisle. After all, it's not every day that your teacher gets to be an astronaut. But that's exactly what's happening here because 37-year-old social studies teacher,

Krista McCallif, has been picked from over 11, American educators to be the world's first teacher in space. She's even promised live lessons once she's in orbit, including one called the Ultimate Field Trip. As teachers wheel in the bulky TV sets, the students settle. The camera operators focus on their faces as they prepare to watch the lift-off. An estimated 2.5 million US schoolchildren are watching the launch live on NASA's satellite feed, and CNN is carrying it on cable.

After a decade, when space travel has started to feel routine, this is anything but. On the screens, excited anchors at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida fill the time before the big moment. Right now, the seven crew members are already out of sight, strapped into their seats in Challenger, one of the four orbiters in NASA's Space Shuttle program. A teenager just hopes it actually happens this time. Yesterday the launch was stopped because of technical hitches and overnight Florida has frozen. Icicles have even formed on the launch structure.

But the student knows she doesn't need to worry. They've all been told the shuttle is as safe as a passenger jet. In fact, the orbiter on the TV looks like a small version of an aeroplane. Except it's mounted vertically, nose facing towards the sky. It's flanked by a massive external tank and two cylinders, the solid rocket boosters, almost 150 feet tall that will provide most of the thrust at liftoff. Now the hall falls silent as the launch counts down. At 11.38 a.m. Eastern Time, the solid rocket boosters ignite and Challenger lifts off.

And lift off. Lift off of the 25th Space Shuttle mission and it is cleared the... It's like something out of a movie, the teacher they love in that shuttle. The orbiter climbs through the blue sky to over 35,000 feet. In the Concord Auditorium, the conversation between the crew and the controllers at the Cape is broadcast live under the pictures. With the craft now traveling at around 1,000 miles per hour, an order comes through the speakers telling Commander Dick Scobie to increase the power to the main engines for the climb to orbit. Challenger, go at throttle up. How you're going, John Bob.

But moments after Commander Scobie replies, the camera, tracking the challenger, shows something that makes the student's breath catch in her throat. The spacecraft has disappeared, and in its place is a fireball. The cheers fall silent as the teenager's stares. Is that normal? Multiple trails of smoke scar the blue sky, plummeting down towards Earth. The student stares of the teacher's faces as they change from confusion to horror. And somewhere at the back, someone starts to sob.

In 1986, seven astronauts boarded Space Shuttle Challenger for what was meant to be a routine tent flight of the orbiter. 73 seconds after liftoff, the shuttle broke apart in front of millions of viewers, in what remains one of the worst disasters in the history of human spaceflight. But how did a craft make? NASA claimed was as safe as an airliner come to fail in full view of a watching nation. Who knew the risks and when? And why, 17 years later, did it happen again?

I'm John Hopkins. From the Noiser Podcast Network, this is a short history of the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster. Humans have always looked up to the night sky and wondered what lies beyond the earth. But in the mid-20th century, travel into space becomes a re-reactivity. reality. During the Cold War, the Soviets take an early lead in what becomes known as the space race, with the launch of Sputnik 1 in October 1957. Four years later, cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin becomes the first human in space. It is a blow that spurs the Americans into dramatic action. Just six weeks after Gagarin's flight, President John F. Kennedy makes

his ambitious announcement to put a man on the moon before the decade. is out. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration, NASA, pushes its technology and budget to the limit. But in wider society, many argue that space exploration is not a priority. Dr. Matthew Hirsch is an historian at New York and Harvard Universities and author of Dark Star, a new history of the space shuttle. As the moon landing approaches in 1969, there are voices from both the right and the left, saying that the program should be shut down. that it's a waste of money, and it's not even confronting or dealing with the critical problems of the day. The nuclear arms race, the Cold War with the Soviet Union,

the issues of civil rights and race in the United States, and the questions of poverty. Despite the dissenters, the seemingly impossible is achieved on the 20th of July, 1969, when the Apollo 11 astronauts, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin become the first humans to set foot on the moon. As the crew returned to Earth to huge celebration, the question is,

What next? That year, a new space task group recommends the development of a space station, a lunar base, and a Mars mission. President Nixon, however, rejects all of these as too expensive. He famously told Congressional Aids that he wasn't a space cadet, that he didn't care at all about this, and that he thought it was a complete waste of money. Yet he can't ignore the excitement that surrounds the moon landings. In addition, contracts for space exploration mean jobs, which is particularly,

particularly valuable in states where politicians need votes. So, on the 5th of January, 1972, Nixon announces approval of the Space Shuttle program for the creation of a reusable, cost-effective spacecraft. Right from the start, the project has almost impossibly broad ambitions. This is a vehicle that will democratize space exploration, because it will be so comfortable and easy to fly that everyone will be able to fly into space on it. In fact, there might be hundreds of space. these vehicles, some owned by private companies that would take tourists into space just for fun.

And the idea that this kind of space vehicle would be a perfect environment for science, and that it would, as a result, solve Earth's environmental crisis, because we would launch all kinds of environmental scientists in the space who would study climate and pollution and solve those problems, and that it would also be a tool of international diplomacy that would be everything to everyone that would pay for itself, that would be like pennies from heaven, and all we had to do is sign on the dotted line. The issue is that no one is even quite sure what it'll look like, and that basic research and development will take years.

Cost is a huge issue. NASA's early design needs roughly $10 to $14 billion to deliver. When the Nixon administration sees that, they say, that's not going to work. Cut that in half and build whatever you can for half of that. And therein lies the problem. You see multiple rounds of designs that are trying to do what the space shuttle is supposed to do, a budget. I really see NASA in a tremendous bind here. It wants to do the right thing, but it can't. It's being pushed largely by political forces to make something it doesn't want,

that it doesn't need, and that won't work. But that's the only way that it can continue in the space fight, because there's really no other program that's on the drawing boards, for which anyone can get any kind of support or money. The original vision is a fully reusable two-stage vehicle. One part does the heavy lifting to the edge of the Earth's atmosphere, then returns to Earth. The second part, the orbiter, keeps going with its passengers and cargo. But budget constraints force NASA to adopt a compromise design using solid rocket boosters and a disposable external tank.

And the airplane-like design is not without its issues either. When you're traveling in space, of course, there's no air around, which means that you have no need for wings. Once you get through Earth's atmosphere, you don't need to look like an airplane in order to fly successfully in space. In fact, wings just make it harder. They can be very difficult to keep cool, especially during re-entry, when the space vehicle has to strike the atmosphere at very, very high speeds, producing tremendous temperatures. The stresses placed on an airframe under these circumstances potentially could destroy it, so the idea of using a spaceplane multiple times seemed problematic.

It was a technology that seemed very hard to build, hard to fly, and every time someone had tried to build it, beginning in the 1940s, they failed. Third, NASA forges ahead, and in July 1972, the prime contract for the orbitors is awarded to the aerospace and industry conglomerate Rockwell International. Other contracts are deliberately spread across many congressional districts to generate more jobs and lock-in political support. The contract for the solid rocket boosters, for example, is given to the Thiacol Chemical Corporation, later merged to become Morton Thyrgycol, in the high desert of Utah over to the city.

2,000 miles from the launch pad. But this creates a logistical problem. At 149 feet in length, the boosters are simply too large to ship to Florida in one piece. As a workaround, the rockets are built in segments, which are then loaded separately onto rail cars for the long journey east. When they finally arrive at the base at Cape Canaveral, Florida, technicians must stack them on top of one another like giant building blocks, sealing the joints. with giant rings made of high-performance synthetic rubber.

More design constraints are added when the government insists that NASA works with the US Air Force which needs to launch reconnaissance satellites into space. But these are the size of school buses, and accommodating them requires fundamental changes to the design. To add insult to injury, the Air Force don't contribute to the cost. By the late 1970s, the vision moves from the drawing board to the factory floor. But as the physical orbiters take shape, the pressure to meet impossible deadlines and shrinking budgets begins to compromise the build.

The astronauts themselves are very concerned because as this vehicle is being built, it's not being built well. There are lots of problems. The computers don't work. It's problematic in all kinds of ways. It has an untested thermal protection system composed of ceramic tiles, which not only may not actually protect the orbiter from the heat of reentry, But as NASA workers, including a lot of college students working on their summer break, try to glue these tiles to the orbiter, they all keep falling off. And in fact, they fall off so frequently that the rate at which tiles can be applied to the exterior skin in the orbiter is about one and a half per person per day.

It just takes so long to glue these to make sure that they stay on, that it seems unlikely that the spatial is ever going to fly. Yet NASA projects a very different version to the public and Congress, insisting they are developing a craft that will be as safe to fly on as a passenger jet. Meanwhile, as the days to the first launch tick down, their internal assessments estimate the risk of catastrophic failure at roughly one in a hundred. Oblivious to this level of danger, when that first shuttle, Columbia, finally goes into orbit on the 12th of April 1981,

the public is awe-struck. When the spatial actually does in 1981 with a skeleton crew of two aviators, both equipped with ejection seats because of the possibility that this thing may not make it off the ground. There is a kind of enthusiasm we see every time the United States launches astronauts into space. Even if people have no idea who they are or why they're there, it just seems like an exciting thing that's happening. And the space shuttle was new in that the launch was rather spectacular, and it landed like an airplane, the first space vehicle to actually do that. And then the astronauts wound up just walking down a staircase instead of being plucked out of the ocean.

I remember as a young schoolboy myself, writing a letter to the first crew, John Young, Robert Crippen, and receiving a letter back with a nice auto pen signature. I collecting patches and memorabilia. It was exciting for me. For the first time in my awareness, the United States was flying in space again. This first mission, STS-1, is a spectacular triumph, with the astronauts gliding back to Earth and landing smoothly on a runway. This machine doesn't just work.

it makes space travel look as elegant as a commercial flight. Five orbiters are eventually operational. Columbia, Challenger, Discovery, Atlantis, and later endeavor. But for the public, at least, the novelty wears off as more missions are launched. It gradually dawned on me, and it dawned on lots of other people, too, that the astronauts floating around in space aren't really doing very much while they're there. There's less and less television coverage. It's unclear why they're there what they're doing.

The experiments that they're conducting don't seem very sophisticated at all. A lot of it is just bring some stuff into space and see what happens. And the thing that the space shuttle was supposed to excel at, depositing satellites into orbit and picking up derelict satellites from space, is incredibly boring to watch. It's like watching paint dry. Through the early 1980s, shuttle missions become increasingly routine. NASA had originally claimed the shuttle would fly 24 or more times a year,

but 1985's nine flights would prove to be the actual peak. The shuttle carries guests, including members of Congress, but also payload specialists, technical civilians who are brought along specifically to supervise cargo or run experiments. All the while, budget pressures are constant, as are the safety issues that keep cropping up. On one trip, one of Challenger's main engines shuts down early, forcing them to abort their planned high-altitude order.

In January in 1985, the coldest launch to date highlights worrying issues with the joints on the solid rocket boosters. It's just one of the issues that's concerning NASA personnel, not least those who hoped to go into space. There were so many things about the shuttle that could possibly go wrong, that rather than lulling themselves into the feeling or the belief that everything was fine, they accepted the likelihood that the shuttle was going to fail at some point, but that was the business that they were in. And that was true among engineers and true among astronauts as well. The people who didn't know about that were the American public, members of Congress, and the tourists who were flown on the space shuttle. Conscious of the dwindling public interest, NASA comes up with a new idea to put an ordinary civilian into space. The reason why NASA undertook an effort to put an ordinary person into space after literally two decades of being completely averse to the idea was for very, very cynical political reasons.

In order for the space shuttle to thrive as a commercial vehicle, it would have to demonstrate its safety. And the way you do that is by launching ordinary people and showing that they come back alive. For President Reagan, under fire for cuts in education, there seems an obvious profession from which to select his new astronaut. After he announces the Teacher in Space Project, 11,000 hopeful educators apply, filling in the lengthy forms and waiting for the shortlist of 114 to be announced. roughly two from every state and territory. They are then whittled down to a final ten who are sent to Houston for a week of grueling medical and psychological exams. On the 19th of July, 1985,

Vice President George H. W. Bush announces that Krista McCalliffe from Concord, New Hampshire, has won her place in the shuttle. Barbara Morgan, an elementary schoolteacher from Idaho, is named as her backup. Krista McColliffe, when she was selected, was kind of a weird choice because she wasn't a science teacher. She was a social studies teacher who claimed to know nothing at all about space exploration. Over the next few months, the mother of two undergoes an intensive course in astronautics. She practices moving in her bulky flight suit and endures the notorious vomit comet,

a parabolic flight that provides 30-second bursts of weightlessness, often followed by crushing nausea. There's also lesson preparation to be done for the class. she plans to teach live from orbit. With her brown curly hair and approachable charm, she becomes an instant national treasure. She's asked for autographs wherever she goes, especially after a confident appearance on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson talking about how the application process worked.

There were eight basic essay questions dealing with everything. Why do you want to be the first private citizen in space? How do you foster international awareness in your students and a space shuttle project that I had to prepare? I had to have recommendations from the community and from my school. But the unique thing about it was it didn't ask how old you were. It didn't ask your marital status. It didn't ask if you were in good health.

It was a very open type of thing, really looking for somebody who would be a good communicator first. Are you in any way frightened of something like that? I mean, it's a normal question because just the other day it was kind of the head of frightening a lift and one of the engines went out. Yes. I really haven't thought of it in those terms because I see the shuttle program as a very safe program. The introduction of civilians alongside highly qualified pilots does bring real tension. The attitude of the professional astronauts from Dick Scobie, the commander to others aboard was that we've trained our whole lives to be in a position to fly into space.

And now you've basically taken someone whose principal qualification is they have no qualifications. You've given them a couple of months of training. and now are asking us to share the stage with them and to treat them like they're the most important thing happening in this mission. And it was galling. She was told not to touch anything in the space vehicle. She would conduct some lessons in space that were so rudimentary that there was probably no reason for them to be done.

Alongside Dick Scobie, an experienced Air Force test pilot, will be Michael Smith, a Navy test pilot on his first shuttle flight and three mission specialists. Judith Resnick is the second American female to travel beyond the Earth's atmosphere, while Ellison Onizuka is the first Asian American in space. Ronald McNair is not only a laser physicist, but also a jazz saxophonist. He is planning to be the first to record a piece of music in space, a solo in orbit for a new album by the French composer Jean-Michel Jarre.

As well as Krista McCalliffe, the other civilian on board is aircraft engineer Gregory Jarvis. But although the crew and their families socialized together during time off, NASA's military origins means there is a firm pecking order. Although NASA and certain public entertainment likes to imagine the space program is one large family, it was actually an incredibly hierarchical, incredibly competitive environment. The mission is originally scheduled for the 22nd of January 1986. The crew's primary job will be the deployment of a satellite and a very job. release of a unit to study Halley's comet, which is making its closest pass of the sun. But as Krista completes her training, she and her family are not given the full picture of the risks.

She was told that she was going to undertake something that was profoundly safe, that there was no risk to her, that this wasn't dangerous, and that she would be fine. When behind the scenes, the astronauts were basically stewing and fuming about a vehicle that wasn't working well, that was behind schedule, that already had profound technical problems and flaws associated with it, and was being asked to do more and more difficult and dangerous things. One of the concerns is around the solid rocket boosters, where that cold weather launch a year earlier has left engineers deeply uneasy. The joints between the separate sections, sealed with what are called O-rings, are at the mercy of gravity, wind, vibration, and the force of ignition,

which can cause these weak points to flex slightly. Imagine a series of firecrackers that are basically bolted or glued together end on end. And when that seal works, they work fine. But you're talking about a lot of joints and a lot of places for gases to escape. Already, by the time of the Challenger's flight in 1986, NASA had realized that on virtually every flight, the solid rocket boosters intended to rotate a bit about their joints. And in the process, they would eject exhaust products from combust.

Literally, they would start to squirt rocket propellant and burnt fuel out the sides. This was troubling. Even so, though NASA forges ahead to meet the deadline it has set itself, the launch is postponed. First for bad weather, then because a simple bolt on the escape hatch won't budge. It takes hours to find a hacksaw, and by then the launch window has been missed. The delays are incredibly tense for the astroval. having isolated each time to avoid illnesses, they are twice kept strapped in their seats, awaiting clearance for hours before the launch is called off.

The presence of Krista on the flight has focused the world's attention on the launch. Every time it's postponed, the media slate NASA for perceived failure and incompetence, and the embarrassment grows along with the pressure. The launch is rescheduled for the fifth time for the 28th of January. With record low temperatures forecast, the experienced astronauts don't believe it will go ahead. NASA, however, is in no mood for another postponement. There was tremendous political pressure to launch. And there was tremendous pressure that NASA was putting upon itself to meet the expectations

of the Reagan administration, of its congressional backers, and of hard-charging leaders within the organization for which a failure was never an option and no was never an answer. The afternoon before the launch, engineers at Morton Thiercol, the Utah company that builds the solid rocket boosters, hear about the weather forecast and panic. In an urgently convened conference call involving NASA flight managers and the Kennedy Space Center team in Florida, the Thiercol engineers present their data. The synthetic rubber O-rings get dangerously stiff and lose resilience when cold. They recommend not launching below 53 degrees Fahrenheit or about 12 degrees Celsius. But overnight, temperature at Cape Canaveral is expected to plummet to a bone-chilling 18 degrees Fahrenheit, roughly minus 8 Celsius. Even by the scheduled launch time the next morning, the mercury is not expected to rise above minus 3 Celsius.

It's far colder than any previous shuttle launch and well below the engineer's safe limit for the O-rings. NASA pushes back, demanding to be shown data to prove the plan is unsafe. But as the pressure moves through Thuyakol's chain of command, the higher ups don't seem to share their engineer's concerns. A vice president of Morton Thiercle told a Morton Thuyacal engineer to take off his engineer hat and put on his management hat. To stop thinking like an engineer of how to fix things and make things better and recognize your duties and obligations to the company. Roger Boisjolet, the fire-call engineer who most strenuously opposed the launch, still refuses to sign the authorization.

But the rest are persuaded. Firecoles, man on the ground at Kennedy, Alan MacDonald, watches as the fax rolls in from his head office to confirm it. The company has reversed its position. The launch will proceed. It is just after 7 a.m. on Tuesday, January the 28th, 1986. At the Cape Canaveral launch pad, a member of the six strong closeout crew stands in the biting Florida cold. He is responsible for getting the astronauts ready for launch, which means he'll be one of the last to talk to them and touch the spacecraft before it leaves Earth. He breathes out a thick cloud of white vapor as he mentally runs through his task list.

Further down the structure, the ice inspection team is still at work, hours after starting at 2 a.m. Using little more than brooms and their gloved hands, they are systematically knocking foot-long icicles of the metal service towers. The pads fire suppression system was left running overnight to prevent the pipes from bursting, but the water is frozen, turning the walkways into a treacherous skating rink. Even as the sun rises, the right-hand rocket booster still sparkles with frost. The technician treads carefully, as he steps into the elevator. It's basic, not much more than an open cage,

but as he travels 195 feet above ground level, it affords him a bird's eye view. Looking east, past the steel skeleton of the tower, he can see beyond the marsh of the Cape. The Atlantic Ocean is vast and gray, except for the white waves whipped up by the same 50-not winds that brought the freeze. He passes the massive orange flank of the external tank,

filled with 535,000 gallons of volatile fuel. Once the elevator stops, he steps off into the white room, a small, sterile chamber that wraps around the shuttle's hatch and the lift doors close. When they open again, a few moments later, outstep the astronauts in their light blue flight coveralls. The technician greets the teacher, Krista McCallif, reassuring her that another earlier crew have already stowed her personal items in her onboard locker, her grandmother's watch and her son's favorite plush toy frog. She grins, but he wonders if she's feeling as confident as she appears, after all the delays.

Now Commander Dick Scobie, a former aircraft mechanic who knows this machine better than anyone, clambers in through the small circular hatch. The technician follows him into the cramped cabin and pulls the heavy nylon harness tight across Scoby's chest. He does the same with the other six crew members. After wishing them a safe trip, a technician crawls out onto the narrow platform of the white roof. It is time to seal the ship. He pulls the hatch shut and inserts a T-shaped metal key into the lock. To ensure the seal is perfect, he angles a small dentist's mirror towards the bolts. When he's sure it's secure, the last thermal tiles are pressed into place around the hatch.

the hatch. The technician and his colleagues take the elevator down and climb into the van to drive to the roadblock three miles from the pad. Their job's complete. All they can do now is hope nothing else gets in the way of the launch and pray that the rumors that the temperature could be dangerously low prove false. As the countdown reaches its final minutes, the families of these seven astronauts make their way to the roof and the fourth floor observation deck of the launch control center. From here they have an unobstructed view of the shuttle stack, a shimmering white needle against the blue morning sky. And finally, it happens. The engines ignite, the ground shakes, and when the countdown reaches zero in a roar of fire, the shuttle lifts smoothly into the air.

Several thousand spectators cheer as they tilt their faces to the sky, watching the ascent. But after 73 seconds, the unthinkable happens. At 46,000 feet, the shuttle disappears into an enormous fireball and breaks apart. There is a long silence on the live broadcast before NASA's public affairs officer speaks again. My control is here looking very carefully as the situation. Obviously a major malfunction. Some of the wreckage, including the crew cabin, continues to coast upward, around 65,000 feet before falling. For most of those watching, including the families, it's

unclear what's happening. One of the astronaut's daughter even believes that the flames are normal and keeps taking photos. But in the control room, where all electronic readings return static, the catastrophe is clear. Some stare in silence, others begin to cry. The flight controller orders all telecommunications with the outside world to stop. Everything is now evidence. It is initially assumed that the crew will have perished in the fireball. All their rescue teams are scrambled within minutes. They can only watch from a distance as white-hot wreckage

and trails of unburnt propellant rain down into the sea. As the search begins, the president cancels his State of the Union address. Instead, at 5 o'clock that evening, he speaks to a grieving nation. about courage and sacrifice. We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye, and slipped the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of God. At a memorial three days later, the families, the president, and his wife, Nancy,

join NASA staff to commemorate the astronauts. Meanwhile, at NASA, the efforts to understand the course, cause and a portion blame are already underway. And the focus is already on the very O-rings that had led Morton Thiercol engineers to try to get the mission postponed the night before the disaster. Reagan convenes the Presidential Commission on the Space Shuttle Challenger Accident, chaired by former Secretary of State William P. Rogers. Members include astronauts Neil Armstrong and Sally Ride and Nobel Prize-winning theoretical physicist

Richard Feynman. It's discovered that after launch, a plume of flame from the right solid rocket booster burned through the external tank's attachment strut, which caused the tank to rupture, releasing liquid hydrogen and oxygen. It's not until weeks later, when the shuttle's cabin is finally located on the ocean floor, but NASA understands that the crew compartment did not explode, but rather broke away in one piece. The astronauts fell for two minutes, and 45 seconds before hitting the water at over 200 miles per hour. Evidence recovered from the silt, including activated emergency airpacks and switches moved on the pilot's panel, proves that at least some of the crew were conscious, desperately trying to save

themselves until the very end. So there was an effort to undertake rescue procedures, and recovery procedures, even though they were in basically an aluminum box that was falling into the ocean without parachutes. The commission gets underway. But the chairman understands that he's not expected to simply establish the cause of the accident and recommend corrective action. William Rogers was chosen because he knew very, very little about science,

but was a soldier in the Republican Party. And the main instruction that he received was that nothing should come out of this investigative committee that would undermine Americans' faith and confidence in NASA on the space program. But many of those involved in the commission are less malleable. than expected.

It turns out members of the uniform military in the United States, particularly generals, don't like being told by amateurs what they should believe. And if they see something wrong, they want to speak up about it because the military lives and dies based on the truth about its past experiences. Though early hearings focus on the technical failure of the O-ring seals, management tried to play down the warnings. At a closed hearing, on the 10th of February 1986, engineer Alan McDonald attends. Unable to bear what he sees as misleading testimony, he stands up to break ranks.

And with other engineers, he explains in detail how the conference call went the night before the disaster. Richard Feynman is also carrying out his own research beyond the commission room. Very quickly, Richard Feynman found himself on the outs with the committee because rather than listening only to the testimony provided, he conducted his own interviews, mostly of low-level NASA engineering staff. We told them all the same thing. We knew this was going to happen. We had a rough idea of when, and we think the odds were failure of about one in a hundred.

Before the committee has even finished hearing the evidence, he's decided it needs to get hands-on to understand what really happened. It's just after 8 on a Tuesday morning in February 1986. Richard Feynman sits in the back of a cab scanning the sidewalks for a hardware store with its shutters up. The 67-year-old physicist, noble laureate, writer and bongo drummer, is wearing the suit and tie he has adopted since arriving in the capital. It is an uncomfortable attempt to blend in with this city of officialdom. But Richard has a maverick mission that his fellow commissioners do not yet suspect. He has received a tip-off that could change the entire direction of the inquiry.

Spotting a shop that seems to fit the bill, he tells the cab to stop, pays and heads incess. side. Today he is planning to turn a formal hearing into a live science lab. And for that, he needs the right tools. He selects a small C-clamp and a pair of pliers, then digs in his pocket for his wallet. Together they set him back a couple of bucks. He arrives back just as the session is called to order. As he takes a seat at the long table, the murmurs of the gallery fade as the official business resumes. Today they are examining the joints holding the massive solid boosters together. A life-size section of the joint is being passed down the row of commissioners for inspection. When it gets to him, Feynman quietly reaches out with his pliers.

He pulls a strand of the synthetic rubber O-ring material from the model. Under the table, out of sight of the cameras, he compresses it with the sea clamp he brought earlier to simulate the crushing pressure placed on the joint at the moment of launch. Then he reaches for a nearby pitcher of iced water. It's not as cold as the air was at the Cape on launch morning, but it's good enough. As the technical jargon of the hearing drones on, he drops the clamped rubber into his glass and waits.

After a few moments, he fishes the clamp out and unscrews it. But instead of springing back, the rubber remains pinched, pinched and deformed. When his turn comes to talk, he holds up the flat and scrap of rubber so the cameras can see. He explains what he is done, and that the material has no resilience when exposed to the temperature at which water freezes. I believe, he says, that that has some significance for our problem.

It is a low-key statement with shattering implications. People in the gallery mutter, astonished as they take in the visual proof. Chairman Rogers, visibly shocked, immediately calls for a recess. The demonstration features on the evening news, understated and devastating. For the price of a few dollars, he has perhaps demonstrated what caused a disaster that cost seven lives and billions of dollars. It later emerges that the crucial O-ring data had originally been given to Sally Ride. But as an active NASA astronaut, she was not allowed to bring this damning evidence

into the record herself while the commission was under pressure to protect the agency's public image. It might also have endangered her whistleblower, so she secretly passed the findings to a fellow commissioner who in turn told Feynman. When the commission delivers its report the following June, the failure of the O-rings is confirmed as the technical cause of the accident. But the document also points to organizational issues, communication failures, flawed decision-making, and schedule pressure. The Rogers Committee report was damning in certain ways. It showed that there are people at Mortentheical and within NASA had allowed a launch to proceed that probably shouldn't have for reasons that were kind of unclear. The parallel investigation conducted by Congress was a lot more

damning and pointed to real structural problems and leadership deficiencies within NASA that made this happen and that were going unrepaired. Feynman insists on adding his own appendix, which is far more critical of NASA management than the main report. For a successful technology, one quote reads, reality must take precedence over public relations, for nature cannot be fooled. Later, a sociologist Diane Vaughn

coins the phrase normalization of deviance to characterize the culture at NASA, one where potentially critical safety flaws are accepted as the norm. In the wake of the inquiry, Engineer Alan McDonald is initially demoted by Thuyacol for speaking out. Shocked by this treatment of a whistleblower, politicians intervene, and he becomes the only person in American history to have had his job restored by an act of Congress.

He is subsequently put in charge of the successful redesign of the booster rocket joints. Shuttle flights resume in September 1988, almost three years after the disaster, with the launch of discovery. But the mood within NASA remains uncertain. There seemed to be a standing view within NASA and its contractors that the space shuttle was profoundly flawed, but that eventually engineers would be given the go-ahead to fix everything that was broken, and that would happen before they lost a crew.

And people kept waiting for that moment to happen, but it never did because the shuttle couldn't make enough money. Over the next 17 years, NASA operates 87 more flights. But in January 2003, during a launch, of the Space Shuttle Columbia, a piece of insulating foam breaks off and strikes the wing. The breach is seen by officials, but the level of damage remains unknown,

and while the unsuspecting astronauts continue their mission, discussions are held to decide what to do. Appeals to use a spy satellite to take more detailed photographs are rejected, while options that might make re-entry less hazardous are ignored. The kind of fatalism sets in, in which the administrator decides that none of these are likely to work, so none of them should be tried. And sure enough, what one would expect to happen actually happens. Hot gases, plasma starts to enter the hole, which gets bigger and bigger and bigger and starts to short out sensors

and cause physical damage to the wings, causing a wing to rip off, which is a kind of failure for a space shuttle re-entering the Earth's atmosphere that is not recoverable. On the 1st of February 2003, thanks to a catastrophic breach of the wing, space shuttle Columbia breaks apart during re-entry, killing all seven crew. An inquiry finds that foam shedding from the external tank had occurred on every previous shuttle flight and had been classified as an acceptable risk. After the Columbia disaster, in-orbit inspections become mandatory, and an independent safety organization and formal routes for engineers to dissent are established.

But even as protocols improve, the space shuttle's days are already numbered. It was always hoped that the space shuttle would make flying into space so cheap that it would create a market for space flight that didn't actually exist. That the demand for space travel was elastic and that it was cheap enough lots of people would do it. And it turns out that's not really the case. Only a finite number of satellites we'd need to launch into space. A finite number of crude vehicles. In July 2011, the shuttle program completes its final flight. Across 135 missions, its total cost, adjusted for inflation, is at least

$200 billion. Four decades on, the Challenger disaster still influences how many professionals, both within and beyond the field of space exploration, talk about risk culture. The astronauts who perished on Challenger, Colombia, and in the 1967 fire on Apollo 1 are honored each year on NASA's Day of Remembrance. The Lost Cruise legacy also lives on in the Challenger centers. Founded in 1986 by the Cruise families, they are an international network of over 30 hands-on space science and STEM learning bases for school children. Because despite its inherent risks, discovering the secrets of space still has the capacity

to captivate humanity. I have been a spaceflight enthusiast ever since I was two years old. When I picked out of a catalog my very first bed spread, which is of Apollo astronauts on the moon, I looked through telescopes as a young man. I was convinced that by the time I reached the age that I am now that I would be living in space. And the more I studied being an astronaut, the more I learned how difficult and painful it is at times. It made me realize how much I appreciate being on Earth. And ultimately, we're kind of stuck here. At the same time, space exploration Kindle's in us the kind of sense of wonder and curiosity and creativity that I think is generally good for a society.

Human beings are curious animals. It's one of the best qualities that we have. We want to know. And when I used to look at the telescope as a small boy and see the vastness of space and the rings of Saturn, I was almost in awe, frightened almost, at just the incredible vastness and bigness and how much it was left to be discovered. I think we should keep on doing that. It's one priority of many. and it doesn't necessarily mean that we have to engage in a series of stunts.

Next time on Short History of will bring you a short history of Ireland's Easter Rising. Like a lot of that generation, they feel that there's a rottenness at the heart of the established order. A lot of the 1916 leaders, they glory in the idea of a cleansing of that corruption of that rottenness. Many of them believe in the power of blood sacrifice and the idea of redeeming Ireland's soul. And we've got to consider those who were involved in orchestrating the rising. Some of them had a very poetic sensibility. Some of them were poets. Some of them were writers, educators, dramatist.

As one historian put it as far back as the 1960s, this rising was consciously staged as a drama. That's next time. You can listen to the next two episodes of Short History of right now, without waiting and without adverts, by subscribing to Noiser Plus. Just hit the link in the episode description, or head to www.noiser.com forward slash subscriptions to unlock more episodes today.