We are in the primitive stage of man's leap from his home
planet. Part of the story of this incredible effort to explore
and to utilize cosmic space is the story of how man studied the
problem, how he tried to anticipate the consequences of his tech-
nical endeavors, and how he tried to understand his activities--
both to help him plan better the outcome of his huge expendi-
ture of energy and resources and to rationalize his "out of this
world" preoccupation.

Those of us who formed the initial core of social scientists
at RAND in 1948 had a unique opportunity to study the implica-
tions of technical innovations at their early stages. At that time,
the only satellites most of us had ever heard about had names
like Poland and Hungary, except for the moon if a college
requirement had included a survey course in astronomy. In the
informal, transdisciplinary environment of RAND, it was dis-
concerting for a social scientist to hear physicists, astronomers,
and engineers refer to "satellites" with no conceivable relation
to the countries of Eastern Europe.

The theoretical studies of the scientists indicated that it was
feasible to build boosters and to place artificial satellites in orbit.
Soon, in ways that became our professional concern, we began to
see that indeed there was a political connection. A few of us, once
we had learned some elementary astronomy and had been initi-
ated into what was then a secret study, began to think about the
uses to which man-made satellites could be put and what the
human consequences might be. Since I was a member of that
original group of space-shocked political scientists, it is accurate
to say that this volume had its origins in RAND a long time ago,

-v-