The Administration: The More Things Change . . .

'The More Things Chsne. . .'

The world last week acclaimed a Russian Air Force major nicknamed Gaga. And as Yuri Gagarin became the first man to escape the planet and return safely, earthbound humans could view the event through telescopes that offered radically different images. In the long-range reflection of history, Gagarin's adventure was one for global celebration, an inspiring forward thrust in man's effort to explore the universe. Through the foreshortened telescope of the cold war, the Soviet achievement could be seen only as a victory for Communism and a defeat for the free world as led by the U.S.

Yet in a week that could change the whole future of mankind, there was still another view, and it seemed all too familiar: Plus fa change, plus c'est la méme chose. In 1957, when Russia orbited Sputnik I, the U.S. displayed its rocket lag for all the world to see. Last week's Soviet exploit demonstrated that the lag has scarcely lessened. Official U.S. reaction to Gaga's feat was at least as nonchalant as the reaction to the first Sputnik. President Kennedy congratulated the Russians, but at his press conference he indicated that the desalinization of ocean water was even more important than space exploration. In 1958 National Aeronautics and Space Administrator T. Keith Glennan insisted that the U.S. was really not too far behind in the space race; in 1961 NASA Chief James Webb insisted that U.S. projects were "solidly based" and proceeding "step by step." In 1957 the Eisenhower Administration was embarrassed by Presidential Assistant Sherman Adams' scoff that Sputnik I was little more than a shot in a game of "outer space basketball." Last week the Kennedy Administration was monumentally embarrassed by an unwitting growl from Air Force Lieut. Colonel John ("Shorty") Powers, information officer for the U.S.'s astronautical Project Mercury. Awakened for a 3 a.m. comment on Gaga's flight, Powers snapped to a newsman: "If you want anything from us, you jerk, the answer is that we are all asleep."

Dead Center. For a few days this riposte was taken by the cynical as a description of the whole U.S. In reality the country was far from asleep, even on the scientific and astronautical fronts. But Gaga's triumph did come at a time when things seemed to be on dead center in Washington, and hadn't progressed too much since the Eisenhower Administration.

The superficial signs of similarity were more obvious each week. Instead of presidential golf at Palm Springs and Gettysburg, there was presidential golf at Palm Beach and Middleburg. New Frontier "task forces" had taken over from Eisenhower-era "study committees," but little seemed to be happening. Dwight Eisenhower had been criticized for his wandering press conference syntax; last week's Kennedy conference was as notable for its shapeless prose as for its muted tone.

There was no doubting President Kennedy's energy or his ambition to get things moving; but in his desire to get fresh policy in motion, he seemed to have met a multiplicity of barriers.