Sputnik: The Shock of the

¶ … Sputnik: The Shock of the Century It was one of the most expensive and tense competitions in the history of the world. Government figures were made on the promise of its outcome, or their dedication to their sides advancements. Trillions of dollars and thousands of men and women would become involved over the course of several decades, and the definition of victory in the competition, which was murky from the outset, became harder and harder to discern until it was ultimately acknowledged to be completely elusive.

This race eclipsed anything that ever occurred in the Olympics, either in ancient or in modern times. It was bigger than the Superbowl, bigger than the World Cup or the World Series -- bigger, in both the figurative and literal sense -- than the world itself.

The Space Race occupied the majority of the latter-half of the twentieth century; emblematic of the Cold War and United States and Soviet tensions, the technological advances made during the age had direct philosophical and practical implications that forever changed the way the world is perceived and works.

In his book Sputnik: The Shock of the Century, Paul Dickson does an excellent job of capturing the event that marked the true beginning of the Space Race: the successful Soviet launch of Sputnik, the first ever man-made satellite to be placed into orbit around the Earth. In an informative yet eminently engaging narrative style, Dickson records both the science and the popular and political sentiments that led to and emanated from this historic event.

Though Dickson dips back into the nineteenth century to explain the history of rocketry and the space age, his book begins where the title demands it must: on October 4, 1957, what Dickson dubs "Sputnik Night." To illustrate the importance of the successful orbit and radio transmission of the Soviet satellite, he quickly lists some of the other news stories that Sputnik eclipsed: the ongoing racial tensions at Central High School in Little Rock, the current World Series between the New York Yankees and the Milwaukee Brewers, Jimmy Hoffa's unsurprising election as president of the Teamsters, and a flu epidemic all gave way to the announcement of Sputnik, and the radio rebroadcast of its steady "deep beep-beep." An international convention of scientists was going on that evening in the Soviet Embassy in Washington, and the room erupted in joyful and un-jealous jubilation from all attendants.

In fact, both the United States and the Soviet Union had released separate statements over the preceding year that they would each be launching satellites into orbit as part of the International Geophysical Year, a collaborative eighteen-month period of frenetic scientific inquiry which the Embassy gathering was devoted to. The scientific world had long been awaiting a successful satellite, and the matter of who got there first did not seem to matter. The same was true, at the very outset, in both the public and political spheres, as well.

Amateur radio enthusiasts were enlisted by the American members of the International Geophysical Year conference to help track Sputnik by listening for its distinctive beep, which could be picked up with any basic equipment. It was excitement rather than the consternation of losing or the worry about Soviet advancements that was the initial reaction of the people, and to a large degree of the government.

In fact, it was largely because Sputnik was so unsophisticated that worries did not mount in Washington -- all the satellite did was emit a steady beep. The successful launch and orbit of the satellite was celebrated, and little more was though of it through the weekend. All of that was to change, however, when the weekend was done. Dickson dubs the start of the following week "Red Monday," and this marks the beginning of Sputnik's true ramifications.

Though the fifties are often remembered as a calm era; one in which people generally prospered and grew content and happy with their new suburban lifestyles, Dickson reminds us that things were not really simple -- they never are, in fact. The FBI's crime statistics mark the first half of 1957 as having the highest crime rate on record up to that point.

The worst flu epidemic to hits the country since World War I had just finished its peak at the time Sputnik was launched, and would kill seventy-thousand Americans before it was over, adding to the nation's level of anxiety, and the Soviets had announced the successful launch of an intercontinental ballistic missile -- also emerging technology at the time -- just six short weeks prior to their launch of Sputnik.

These events and situations created more national tensions than is often remembered, and though the initial reaction to Sputnik was excitement, worry quickly set in. The government, with Dwight D. Eisenhower at its head, attempted to put on a clam face for the public, continuing to congratulate the Soviets on their accomplishment and reassuring the American public that Sputnik represented no danger and was not even as major scientific advancement as it appeared to be.

Private fears among politicians and the public alike continued to grow, however, with many suspecting -- despite assurance from Soviet officials and scientists to the contrary -- that Sputnik was in fact a reconnaissance satellite, capable of monitoring activity on any patch of Earth it was flying over, and "guessing what the Russians would do next became something of a national obsession." The ability to put something into orbit did and does have very real military applications, as modern missile technologies and contemporary experimentation confirms.

Since the close of World War II and the onset of the Cold War, the public on both sides of the Iron Curtain had been subjected to propaganda warning them of nuclear attacks, and those fears increased after the launch of Sputnik. These fears were compounded further by the fact that Sputnik passed directly over the United States four to six times every day in its elliptical ninety-six-minute orbit, providing a constant and eerily close reminder of the shadowy communist threat.

Fears were also contextualized in terms of the competitive nature of the Cold War and the now-attached Space Race. Again, this was seen in matters as simple as Sputnik's repeated passage overhead -- mainland United States airspace had never once been entered by an enemy aircraft; though coastal anti-aircraft installations were built, especially in the wake of Pearl Harbor, they were never used for the purpose of defending airspace as there had never been an airborne enemy to defend against.

People quickly began to see Sputnik as a new kind of Soviet threat; one which tore at the very fabric of the United State's image of defensibility and superiority. The increasing fears caused by Sputnik's launch hit the stock market, too, which on October 21 of 1957 saw its biggest one-day drop in two years, worsening an already steep downward trend that had begun in the summer of that year.

Economic concerns might have been among the reasons that Eisenhower and his administration reacted as calmly as they did regarding Sputnik; a stronger reaction might have induced an economic panic. There were several responses to the growing fears and feelings of American misguidance or inadequacy.

Eisenhower began a series of speeches to the public concerning developments n the American space program, but his calm veneer and stated informative purpose was easily seen through by the American public, and Eisenhower's addresses quickly became known derisively as the "chin-up talks," after a Herblock cartoon in the Washington Post. One such reaction, led by then-Senator Lyndon B. Johnson, was a series of hearings held by the Senate Preparedness Subcommittee, which Johnson was director of at the time.

These hearings seemed to be a largely political move on the part of Johnson, who in the words of White House insider Bryce N. Harlow "wanted to get in front of the space rush so that everybody would say, 'Oh, that's our leader.'" During the two months following the launch of Sputnik, the Subcommittee heard seventeen expert witnesses, on topics ranging from public opinion to scientific advancement to military applications and operations, all of it given in the tone of a warning about American standing vs. The Soviet Union.

When deviation from this line of dire circumstances and the need for immediate action occurred, Johnson expressed his doubts in often cynical ways that purported to have the interests and welfare of the American people at heart, but which in reality were often pointed barbs at the Eisenhower and his administration's failure to keep up with the Soviets, as Johnson saw it, in the space race.

One of the central issues of the hearings, and of governmental and scientific squabbling in the wake of Sputnik, was the current position of United States rocket technology and space capabilities, including the oft-bemoaned fact that the United States Army had completed a successful launch of the Jupiter C. rocket on September 20, 1956, and that many top officials and scientists on the project had stressed the capability and opportunity of placing a satellite on this rocket.

If the satellite had successfully entered orbit, this would have put the United States more than a year ahead of the Soviets in the endeavor, which added In fact, this was not the only rocket and satellite project that many United States scientists and government officials felt had been failures, or at least under-utilized successes.

The Soviets increased the pressure on the American rocket program with their launch of Sputnik II on November 3, less than a month after the launch of their first satellite, and political urging from Eisenhower and others forced the early launch of an American Vanguard satellite.

The Vanguard project had actually anticipated a launch date ahead of the Soviets, which may in part have spurred on the Soviet team and helped them to set their deadline, but a series of setbacks delayed the various test launches of the vehicles meant to deliver the Vanguard into orbit, with the third test vehicle not receiving its launch until October 23, 1957. A fourth test vehicle was already under development, but the President was warned that this rocket was strictly experimental.

However, in the face of mounting pressure from Soviet advancements, public concern, and political humiliation, Eisenhower insisted that the new and untested rocket, to be known as the Vanguard rocket, would carry the Vanguard satellite on its first launch. To add pressure to the Vanguard project, the launch was heavily publicized in an effort to combat the mounting fears of Soviet superiority in the Space Race.

The result was a complete backfire, causing more disaster to Eisenhower and national and international public opinion of the United States space program than the launches of both Sputnik I and II combined.

Dickson notes that "the big day arrived two moths to the day after the Russian launch, on Wednesday, December 4." Reporters from around the world were gathered at the newly constructed Vanguard Hotel nearby, watching the launch from a terrace, and thousands of people gather in chairs on the beaches around Cape Canaveral to witness the launch first hand.

The embarrassment that was caused then, by the postponement of the launch to the following day to wind and "bugs," must have been considerable, but it was nothing compared to what happened the next day.

In the words of eyewitness and Vanguard propulsion group head Kurt Stehling, "It seemed as if the gates of hell had opened up." Less than two seconds after the rocket began to lift off, it faltered, the rocket itself actually began to bend under the force of its own weight, and then burst into flames and slid back down, collapsing.

In a moment of complete absurdity, the small 3.2 pound Vanguard satellite was thrown clear of the flames and functioned just as it was intended to -- it opened up in the brush surrounding the launch site and began emitting a steady and regular beep to allow for tracking.

Meanwhile, Johnson's hearings continued with an increased fervor, and the various observed weaknesses of American society -- namely bureaucratic red tape and political and military infighting and a lack of support for education, specifically for the sciences -- became heated topics of national debate. Sputnik had done much more than cause anxiety about the Russians and the United State's space program; it had caused a massive spate of introspection, evaluation, and eventually blame in regards to the current state of American society.

It also, of course, had the direct and obvious effect of spurring on the United States space program, which by no means ended with the Vanguard disaster. In fact, further development of the Vanguard rocket -- which had been urged by those closest to the project from the beginning -- ed to the successful placement into orbit of the Vanguard satellite, the first long-term satellite placed into orbit.

The United States had successfully placed the Explorer, meant to remain aloft for only eight weeks, into orbit on the evening of January 31, 1958. The few hectic months between the launch of Sputnik and the first successful launch of an American satellite must have seemed like decades for those not involved, Eisenhower most of all. The President actually suffered a stroke on November 25, 1957, in the midst of the Sputnik and Vanguard turmoil, which some credit as the primary cause behind Eisenhower's deteriorating health.

History still quibbles over his reaction to the Sputnik launch, with claims that his calm and measured response helped to keep the nation from panicking especially in economic terms being countered with the shortsighted and ultimately wasteful blunder of his insistence on an early public launch for the Vanguard project.

However Eisenhower is measured in the first two months following Sputnik, he cemented his image as one who is adroit in political maneuvers by creating NASA in the wake of the Explorer and Vanguard successes, gaining support from the formerly outspoken critic Lyndon B. Johnson and the nation as a whole. In the ends, Sputnik did much to advance science on both sides of the Iron Curtain, as much if not more through political persuasion as through the gain in real knowledge.

The politics are also held by Dickson at least as important as the science, and though he does describe the science in basic and understandable laymen's terms, his main concern is with the social and political ramification of the Sputnik launch and the dawn of the space age.

His balance in this regard is commended by many reviewers; Rochelle Caviness is careful to point out that "Dickson looks at Sputnik from both a Soviet and from an American viewpoint [...] at the failures that each side encountered, and the repercussions for these failures." Physicist Fred Bortz agrees with this assessment, noting some of the deeper political intricacies that had recently come to light and especially enjoying Dickinson's portrayal of the motivations and relationship between President Dwight D.

Eisenhower and the Soviet Union's premier at the time of the Sputnik launch and subsequent actions, Nikita Khrushchev. Both reviewers found Dickinson's depiction of Eisenhower and the other major personalities involved to be one of the more compelling factors in the book. Indeed, it is Dickinson's ability to see the human motivations and frustrations of the Sputnik event that makes his telling significant. Eisenhower's personality as depicted by Dickinson is also mentioned by Nancy R. Curtis of the University of Maine Library.

Writing for the Library Journal, saw the main struggle as being between Eisenhower and officials in his own government, specifically the Army. This leads to one of the main dilemmas presented by Dickinson's book; though he consistently meets with praise, his argument -- if indeed he has one -- is not entirely clear.

Caviness seems to believe that the central struggle Dickinson outlines in the book is between the Soviet and United States space programs, whereas Curtis explicitly states that the main conflict represented in Sputnik is that between Eisenhower and other members of his administration. This is a minor squabble, however, and further evidence of the objectivity which Dickson brings to his subject. It is not always clear who was on the right side of history, and Dickinson deliberately avoids making such distinctions.

He manages to find both praise and criticism for most of the men involved with the various projects, Americans and Soviets alike, which leads to the more apt and only true criticism of Dickinson's book; that "Readers who are familiar with the history and politics of the space program may grow impatient with this book, looking for a more detailed presentation than Mr.

Dickson has elected to present." Borz goes on to note, however, that "This book is not for them but for readers looking for 250 pages of solid overview and extensive backmatter," which is one of the most glowing recommendations a book can receive. Indeed, even more than it's objectivity, this book is praised for its accessibility, with Caviness disagreeing with Borz in saying that Sputnik: The Shock of the Century "is suitable for general readers and academicians alike." It certainly proved an eye-opening reading for this reader.

There were three major points that I picked up from my reading of Dickinson's Sputnik: The.