Visions of Futures Past #3: Operation Bloody Wanker
Visions of Futures Part #3: Operation Bloody Wanker
Keeping It Real [>] Authorium [>] Institutional Desperation
A branch of public choice economic theory tells us that a bureaucracy will, by its very nature, respond to incentives to maximize utility for itself. As the humans who control the bureaucracy are not always rational, this can lead “utility” to take on some very peculiar definitions. Which also leads to very strange decisions and very strange bedfellows. Which brings us to the subject of this entry and the birth of the PGM-17 Tyr.
By the beginning of 1955, the USAF found itself in an institutional pickle, as the Eisenhower Administration was pushing aggressively for the development a new intermediate-range ballistic missile (IRBM) to “fill the gap” until the first American ICBMs came online. There was a distinct lack of enthusiasm from both the USAF’s engineers and senior leadership for an IRBM program, believing it to be a dead-end that would only distract from the USAF’s own ICBM, Atlas. Notwithstanding such, the Army’s Redstone Arsenal had been working on an IRBM of its own and, even more worryingly, it would be ready several years prior to Atlas. And if the Army’s IRBM design went unchallenged, that could threaten the USAF’s future control of the American missile-based strategic deterrent, as the Army had already begun to argue it should possess the future American ICBM arsenal. So preliminary requirements were hastily defined – identical to those of the Army’s IRBM requirements – and a crash design undertaken to create a new missile, which was dubbed “Thor”. The design was submitted to the Secretary of Defense in October 1955, along with the Army’s Jupiter IRBM and a non-proposal from the Navy intended primarily to show the flag.
Secretary of Defense Charles Wilson vetoed the Navy’s proposal due to its lack of refinement and the USAF’s on the basis that it offered no meaningfully different capabilities to those of the Army’s Jupiter, which was also a more mature design. Wilson further proved unpersuaded by the USAF’s arguments that Thor would be air-deployable to Europe with existing transport aircraft or that it would use the same warhead intended for Atlas and serve as a testbed for it. If the USAF wanted an IRBM, Wilson flatly told the USAF, it could join the Army in the co-development of Jupiter, just as the Navy had been murmuring of doing since August. It would further, in Wilson’s opinion, constitute a waste of taxpayer dollars to fund two IRBMs with an identical suite of operational capabilities.
This snubbing sent shockwaves through the USAF’s Pentagon-based bureaucracy. As this preferencing of the Army was, despite its veneer of fiscal responsibility, without question a punishment. (That the USAF had to investigate what precisely it was being punished over -- which was its perceived intriguing in the selection of Project Vanguard -- is itself worthy of its own Authorium entry.) And because of its being a punishment, the Secretary of Defense’s accountants would be paying an inordinate amount of attention to the USAF’s discretionary funds for any spending on Thor. This was because the service’s traditional response to receiving bad news from a political appointee was funding a project with those same funds, in the hopes that by the time it matured, the project’s merits could be reargued. It appeared that if the USAF wished to participate in the IRBM sphere, it would have to give precedence to the Army, with the horrific precedent such set for the looming fights over control of the nation’s land-based ICBMs.
Or so it seemed, until a call was received from the Royal Air Force’s attaché stationed at the British Embassy.
For several years, the British government had been pushing to engage in greater design cooperation between American and British firms in aerospace projects, especially in the field of rocketry. Both the USAF and the wider Eisenhower Administration had rebuffed those inquiries, believing them to be little more than ploys to bankroll programs the British themselves were not willing to fund and which, in any event, took work away from American aerospace firms. The Embassy had heard – through proper channels, of course – of the USAF’s situation and be remiss not to inform them that the RAF was currently developing an IRBM of its own, Blue Streak, with operational capabilities quite similar to what Thor’s purportedly were. And as, pursuant to the Wilson-Sandys Agreement, IRBM development a British competency, should the USAF wish to collaborate in Blue Streak’s development, the RAF would certainly welcome the USAF’s participation. Though while the United States was already paying a portion of Blue Streak’s development budget per the Wilson-Sandys Agreement, should the USAF wish to ensure its operational needs are met, it would be expected to provide the necessary additional funds.
The subtext of the British proposal was clear. So clear, in fact, a good case could be made it was just “the text”. If it participated, the USAF would be expected to foot the bill for designing and deploying a British missile that it would have, in all likelihood, precious little say over the design of. Such would also take work away from an American firm: Douglas had been the anticipated contractor for Thor. But, on the other hand, Douglas could take the hit, thanks to the Navy continuing to fund the D-671 very high-altitude rocket plane over the USAF’s objection. And, far more importantly, the USAF would get its IRBM that was free of the Army’s control. As while the Secretary of Defense would be watching for line-items related to Thor, those same eyes would almost certainly miss surging “international allied technical assistance” expenditures. And the USAF could hardly be blamed for deepening the American relationship in the project, as the Secretary of Defense himself had said fiscal responsibility demanded supporting already in-development systems. The Memorandum of Understanding committing the USAF to co-development of Blue Streak was signed on December 1, 1955, the day prior to the Navy’s formally signing onto Jupiter.
So just remember, when your plot requires a governmental official to do something profoundly counterintuitive to his or her nominal interests, try applying a parochial careerist’s lens to the situation. It can do worlds of good to justify the behavior you need to occur and ground your character’s actions. And might just provide even more fodder for story-telling.
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Author's Notes
Chapter 10 continues to be glacially worked on, so you get more filler. Maybe also because, after yesterday, Blue Streak was on my mind more than it should've been. Events collide into one another and produce butterflies by the score. I did promise Thor was going to have an unpleasant time of it, though. Probably weren't expecting it to have this much of a hard time. To say nothing of the recipe for dysfunction Blue Streak's development could get if the USAF is fully involved and intending to use the Franken-missile created as TTL's Thor equivalent.
Is this whole premise the kind of thing that seems like a setup for something from Yes, Minister? Absolutely. My mind's eye refuses to let go of the vision of a subplot from the Trident episode of Yes, Prime Minister where ever more elaborate and ridiculous schemes are devised by the Civil Service to get the USAF to pay for Trident and put the kibosh on the PM's plans to pull the plug on it.
Keeping It Real [>] Authorium [>] Institutional Desperation
A branch of public choice economic theory tells us that a bureaucracy will, by its very nature, respond to incentives to maximize utility for itself. As the humans who control the bureaucracy are not always rational, this can lead “utility” to take on some very peculiar definitions. Which also leads to very strange decisions and very strange bedfellows. Which brings us to the subject of this entry and the birth of the PGM-17 Tyr.
By the beginning of 1955, the USAF found itself in an institutional pickle, as the Eisenhower Administration was pushing aggressively for the development a new intermediate-range ballistic missile (IRBM) to “fill the gap” until the first American ICBMs came online. There was a distinct lack of enthusiasm from both the USAF’s engineers and senior leadership for an IRBM program, believing it to be a dead-end that would only distract from the USAF’s own ICBM, Atlas. Notwithstanding such, the Army’s Redstone Arsenal had been working on an IRBM of its own and, even more worryingly, it would be ready several years prior to Atlas. And if the Army’s IRBM design went unchallenged, that could threaten the USAF’s future control of the American missile-based strategic deterrent, as the Army had already begun to argue it should possess the future American ICBM arsenal. So preliminary requirements were hastily defined – identical to those of the Army’s IRBM requirements – and a crash design undertaken to create a new missile, which was dubbed “Thor”. The design was submitted to the Secretary of Defense in October 1955, along with the Army’s Jupiter IRBM and a non-proposal from the Navy intended primarily to show the flag.
Secretary of Defense Charles Wilson vetoed the Navy’s proposal due to its lack of refinement and the USAF’s on the basis that it offered no meaningfully different capabilities to those of the Army’s Jupiter, which was also a more mature design. Wilson further proved unpersuaded by the USAF’s arguments that Thor would be air-deployable to Europe with existing transport aircraft or that it would use the same warhead intended for Atlas and serve as a testbed for it. If the USAF wanted an IRBM, Wilson flatly told the USAF, it could join the Army in the co-development of Jupiter, just as the Navy had been murmuring of doing since August. It would further, in Wilson’s opinion, constitute a waste of taxpayer dollars to fund two IRBMs with an identical suite of operational capabilities.
This snubbing sent shockwaves through the USAF’s Pentagon-based bureaucracy. As this preferencing of the Army was, despite its veneer of fiscal responsibility, without question a punishment. (That the USAF had to investigate what precisely it was being punished over -- which was its perceived intriguing in the selection of Project Vanguard -- is itself worthy of its own Authorium entry.) And because of its being a punishment, the Secretary of Defense’s accountants would be paying an inordinate amount of attention to the USAF’s discretionary funds for any spending on Thor. This was because the service’s traditional response to receiving bad news from a political appointee was funding a project with those same funds, in the hopes that by the time it matured, the project’s merits could be reargued. It appeared that if the USAF wished to participate in the IRBM sphere, it would have to give precedence to the Army, with the horrific precedent such set for the looming fights over control of the nation’s land-based ICBMs.
Or so it seemed, until a call was received from the Royal Air Force’s attaché stationed at the British Embassy.
For several years, the British government had been pushing to engage in greater design cooperation between American and British firms in aerospace projects, especially in the field of rocketry. Both the USAF and the wider Eisenhower Administration had rebuffed those inquiries, believing them to be little more than ploys to bankroll programs the British themselves were not willing to fund and which, in any event, took work away from American aerospace firms. The Embassy had heard – through proper channels, of course – of the USAF’s situation and be remiss not to inform them that the RAF was currently developing an IRBM of its own, Blue Streak, with operational capabilities quite similar to what Thor’s purportedly were. And as, pursuant to the Wilson-Sandys Agreement, IRBM development a British competency, should the USAF wish to collaborate in Blue Streak’s development, the RAF would certainly welcome the USAF’s participation. Though while the United States was already paying a portion of Blue Streak’s development budget per the Wilson-Sandys Agreement, should the USAF wish to ensure its operational needs are met, it would be expected to provide the necessary additional funds.
The subtext of the British proposal was clear. So clear, in fact, a good case could be made it was just “the text”. If it participated, the USAF would be expected to foot the bill for designing and deploying a British missile that it would have, in all likelihood, precious little say over the design of. Such would also take work away from an American firm: Douglas had been the anticipated contractor for Thor. But, on the other hand, Douglas could take the hit, thanks to the Navy continuing to fund the D-671 very high-altitude rocket plane over the USAF’s objection. And, far more importantly, the USAF would get its IRBM that was free of the Army’s control. As while the Secretary of Defense would be watching for line-items related to Thor, those same eyes would almost certainly miss surging “international allied technical assistance” expenditures. And the USAF could hardly be blamed for deepening the American relationship in the project, as the Secretary of Defense himself had said fiscal responsibility demanded supporting already in-development systems. The Memorandum of Understanding committing the USAF to co-development of Blue Streak was signed on December 1, 1955, the day prior to the Navy’s formally signing onto Jupiter.
So just remember, when your plot requires a governmental official to do something profoundly counterintuitive to his or her nominal interests, try applying a parochial careerist’s lens to the situation. It can do worlds of good to justify the behavior you need to occur and ground your character’s actions. And might just provide even more fodder for story-telling.
*=*=*=*=*
Author's Notes
Chapter 10 continues to be glacially worked on, so you get more filler. Maybe also because, after yesterday, Blue Streak was on my mind more than it should've been. Events collide into one another and produce butterflies by the score. I did promise Thor was going to have an unpleasant time of it, though. Probably weren't expecting it to have this much of a hard time. To say nothing of the recipe for dysfunction Blue Streak's development could get if the USAF is fully involved and intending to use the Franken-missile created as TTL's Thor equivalent.
Is this whole premise the kind of thing that seems like a setup for something from Yes, Minister? Absolutely. My mind's eye refuses to let go of the vision of a subplot from the Trident episode of Yes, Prime Minister where ever more elaborate and ridiculous schemes are devised by the Civil Service to get the USAF to pay for Trident and put the kibosh on the PM's plans to pull the plug on it.
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