Management: Management Tips From the Real Rocket Scientists

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As smoothly as the J.P.L. systems run, the true test of the lab's business model comes when something goes wrong. Every time the lab pushes the launch button, billions of dollars, dozens of careers and decades of planning can be on the line. J.P.L. not only accepts the likelihood of the occasional costly flop but also expects it. Such a stomach for setbacks is a legacy of J.P.L.'s first director, William Pickering, a Caltech alumnus who learned his trade setting off rockets in the dry riverbed that is all J.P.L. once was. Dozens of those rockets sometimes blew themselves to bits before one finally flew, but each failure taught Pickering something. "The era of rocketry really was trial and error," says former J.P.L. director Ed Stone. Adds Elachi: "Almost every lab director has kept the same philosophy." That has helped the lab survive many rocky patches, such as in the 1960s, when Pickering's moon probes flopped six times before Ranger 7 succeeded; and in 1999, when the Mars Polar Lander and the Mars Climate Orbiter failed. The message from management remained the same. "We encourage [employees] to push the limits in a thoughtful way," says Elachi. "We keep telling them, 'Look, setbacks are going to happen. And when they do, we will stand by you.'"

OLD-FASHIONED MARKETING

There is one final--much larger--constituency that must stand by the lab: the public. Like any going enterprise, J.P.L. must sell its product, and one way it does that is with pictures. Out in the regions where J.P.L.'s ships fly, the sun is reduced to little more than a very bright candle. The color of planets and moons can be inferred by their chemistry, but even the most sharp-eyed cameras can't see the palette for real. J.P.L. has never been shy about photographing the bodies in grays and pastels and then adding a little colorizing--always taking care to disclose that fact. Critics have grumbled about that, but J.P.L. knows that if it's going to sell the steak of the science, it must rely on the sizzle of the pictures. "I would compare it to the people who painted the Rocky Mountain West in the 19th century," says Roger Launius, chief of the space-history division at the National Air and Space Museum. "They came back and presented the pictures to people, and everybody got excited about the prospect of going there."

Just where J.P.L.'s westward-ho push will take it next is not yet set. More missions to Mars are certain. Others to Pluto and Jupiter's moon Europa are possible. The still vague nature of these plans does not bother the veterans who know the lab best. "What we do here is try to figure out how impossible a task is and then we take it on," says Lee, a 30-year J.P.L. veteran. "The result is that we add to human knowledge. Now, can you have a better life?"