Columbia Accident Investigation Board Report, Volume I

8.2 FAILURES OF FORESIGHT : TWO DECISION HISTORIES AND THE NORMALIZATION OF DEVIANCE

8.2 FAILURES OF FORESIGHT : TWO DECISION HISTORIES AND THE NORMALIZATION OF DEVIANCE

Foam loss may have occurred on all missions, and left bipod ramp foam loss occurred on 10 percent of the flights for which visible evidence exists. The Board had a hard time understanding how, after the bitter lessons of Challenger, NASA could have failed to identify a similar trend. Rather than view the foam decision only in hindsight, the Board tried to see the foam incidents as NASA engineers and managers saw them as they made their decisions. This section gives an insider perspective: how NASA defined risk and how those definitions changed over time for both foam debris hits and O-ring erosion. In both cases, engineers and managers conducting risk assessments continually normalized the technical deviations they found.3 In all official engineering analyses and launch recommendations prior to the accidents, evidence that the design was not performing as expected was reinterpreted as acceptable and non-deviant, which diminished perceptions of risk throughout the agency.

The initial Shuttle design predicted neither foam debris problems nor poor sealing action of the Solid Rocket Booster joints. To experience either on a mission was a violation of design specifications. These anomalies were signals of potential danger, not something to be tolerated, but in both cases after the first incident the engineering analysis concluded that the design could tolerate the damage. These engineers decided to implement a temporary fix and/or accept the risk, and fly. For both O-rings and foam, that first decision was a turning point. It established a precedent for accepting, rather than eliminating, these technical deviations. As a result of this new classification, subsequent incidents of O-ring erosion or foam debris strikes were not defined as signals of danger, but as evidence that the design was now acting as predicted. Engineers and managers incorporated worsening anomalies into the engineering experience base, which functioned as an elastic waistband, expanding to hold larger deviations from the original design. Anomalies that did not lead to catastrophic failure were treated as a source of valid engineering data that justified further flights. These anomalies were translated into a safety margin that was extremely influential, allowing engineers and managers to add incrementally to the amount and seriousness of damage that was acceptable. Both O-ring erosion and foam debris events were repeatedly "addressed" in NASAʼs Flight Readiness Reviews but never fully resolved. In both cases, the engineering analysis was incomplete and inadequate. Engineers understood what was happening, but they never understood why. NASA continued to implement a series of small corrective actions, living with the problems until it was too late.4

NASA documents show how official classifications of risk were downgraded over time.5 Program managers designated both the foam problems and O-ring erosion as "acceptable

risks" in Flight Readiness Reviews. NASA managers also assigned each bipod foam event In-Flight Anomaly status, and then removed the designation as corrective actions were implemented. But when major bipod foam-shedding occurred on STS-112 in October 2002, Program management did not assign an In-Flight Anomaly. Instead, it downgraded the problem to the lower status of an "action" item. Before Challenger, the problematic Solid Rocket Booster joint had been elevated to a Criticality 1 item on NASAʼs Critical Items List, which ranked Shuttle components by failure consequences and noted why each was an acceptable risk. The joint was later demoted to a Criticality 1-R (redundant), and then in the month before Challengerʼs launch was "closed out" of the problem-reporting system. Prior to both accidents, this demotion from high-risk item to low-risk item was very similar, but with some important differences. Damaging the Orbiterʼs Thermal Protection System, especially its fragile tiles, was normalized even before Shuttle launches began: it was expected due to forces at launch, orbit, and re-entry.6 So normal was replacement of Thermal Protection System materials that NASA managers budgeted for tile cost and turnaround maintenance time from the start.

It was a small and logical next step for the discovery of foam debris damage to the tiles to be viewed by NASA as part of an already existing maintenance problem, an assessment based on experience, not on a thorough hazard analysis. Foam debris anomalies came to be categorized by the reassuring term "in-family," a formal classification indicating that new occurrences of an anomaly were within the engineering experience base. "In-family" was a strange term indeed for a violation of system requirements. Although "in-family" was a designation introduced post-Challenger to separate problems by seriousness so that "out-of-family" problems got more attention, by definition the problems that were shifted into the lesser "in-family" category got less attention. The Boardʼs investigation uncovered no paper trail showing escalating concern about the foam problem like the one that Solid Rocket Booster engineers left prior to Challenger.7 So ingrained was the agencyʼs belief that foam debris was not a threat to flight safety that in press briefings after the Columbia accident, the Space Shuttle Program Manager still discounted the foam as a probable cause, saying that Shuttle managers were "comfortable" with their previous risk assessments.

From the beginning, NASAʼs belief about both these problems was affected by the fact that engineers were evaluating them in a work environment where technical problems were normal. Although management treated the Shuttle as operational, it was in reality an experimental vehicle. Many anomalies were expected on each mission. Against this backdrop, an anomaly was not in itself a warning sign of impending catastrophe. Another contributing factor was that both foam debris strikes and O-ring erosion events were examined separately, one at a time. Individual incidents were not read by engineers as strong signals of danger. What NASA engineers and managers saw were pieces of ill-structured problems.8 An incident of O-ring erosion or foam bipod debris would be followed by several launches where the machine behaved properly, so that signals of danger were followed by all-clear signals – in other words, NASA managers and engineers were receiving mixed signals.9 Some signals defined as weak at the time were, in retrospect, warnings of danger. Foam debris damaged tile was assumed (erroneously) not to pose a danger to the wing. If a primary O-ring failed, the secondary was assumed (erroneously) to provide a backup. Finally, because foam debris strikes were occurring frequently, like O-ring erosion in the years before Challenger, foam anomalies became routine signals – a normal part of Shuttle operations, not signals of danger. Other anomalies gave signals that were strong, like wiring malfunctions or the cracked balls in Ball Strut Tie Rod Assemblies, which had a clear relationship to a "loss of mission." On those occasions, NASA stood down from launch, sometimes for months, while the problems were corrected. In contrast, foam debris and eroding O-rings were defined as nagging issues of seemingly little consequence. Their significance became clear only in retrospect, after lives had been lost.

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History became cause as the repeating pattern of anomalies was ratified as safe in Flight Readiness Reviews. The official definitions of risk assigned to each anomaly in Flight Readiness Reviews limited the actions taken and the resources spent on these problems. Two examples of the road not taken and the devastating implications for the future occurred close in time to both accidents. On the October 2002 launch of STS-112, a large piece of bipod ramp foam hit and damaged the External Tank Attachment ring on the Solid Rocket Booster skirt, a strong signal of danger 10 years after the last known bipod ramp foam event. Prior to Challenger, there was a comparable surprise. After a January 1985 launch, for which the Shuttle sat on the launch pad for three consecutive nights of unprecedented cold temperatures, engineers discovered upon the Orbiterʼs return that hot gases had eroded the primary and reached the secondary O-ring, blackening the putty in between – an indication that the joint nearly failed.

But accidents are not always preceded by a wake-up call.10 In 1985, engineers realized they needed data on the relationship between cold temperatures and O-ring erosion. However, the task of getting better temperature data stayed on the back burner because of the definition of risk: the primary erosion was within the experience base; the secondary O-ring (thought to be redundant) was not damaged and, significantly, there was a low probability that such cold Florida temperatures would recur.11 The scorched putty, initially a strong signal, was redefined after analysis as weak. On the eve of the Challenger launch, when cold temperature became a concern, engineers had no test data on the effect of cold temperatures on O-ring erosion. Before Columbia, engineers concluded that the damage from the STS-112 foam hit in October 2002 was not a threat to flight safety. The logic was that, yes, the foam piece was large and there was damage, but no serious consequences followed. Further, a hit this size, like cold temperature, was a low-probability event. After analysis, the biggest foam hit to date was redefined as a weak signal. Similar self-defeating actions and inactions followed. Engineers were again dealing with the poor quality of tracking camera images of strikes during ascent. Yet NASA took no steps to improve imagery and took no immediate action to reduce the risk of bipod ramp

foam shedding and potential damage to the Orbiter before Columbia. Furthermore, NASA performed no tests on what would happen if a wing leading edge were struck by bipod foam, even though foam had repeatedly separated from the External Tank.

During the Challenger investigation, Rogers Commission member Dr. Richard Feynman famously compared launching Shuttles with known problems to playing Russian roulette.12 But that characterization is only possible in hindsight. It is not how NASA personnel perceived the risks as they were being assessed, one launch at a time. Playing Russian roulette implies that the pistol-holder realizes that death might be imminent and still takes the risk. For both foam debris and O-ring erosion, fixes were in the works at the time of the accidents, but there was no rush to complete them because neither problem was defined as a show-stopper. Each time an incident occurred, the Flight Readiness process declared it safe to continue flying. Taken one at a time, each decision seemed correct. The agency allocated attention and resources to these two problems accordingly. The consequences of living with both of these anomalies were, in its view, minor. Not all engineers agreed in the months immediately preceding Challenger, but the dominant view at NASA – the managerial view – was, as one manager put it, "we were just eroding rubber O-rings," which was a low-cost problem.13 The financial consequences of foam debris also were relatively low: replacing tiles extended the turnaround time between launches. In both cases, NASA was comfortable with its analyses. Prior to each accident, the agency saw no greater consequences on the horizon.