What is an Astronaut?

My website and blog are focused on artistic pursuits. Beyond the creative impulse, I have studied the space industry and the history of spaceflight for over 20 years and have worked as an industry analyst since 1999. Occasionally, I will feel compelled to write down some thoughts on pertinent non-art related subjects for the two or so folks that visit my website each day.

Recent space missions, specifically the orbital Inspiration4 conducted by SpaceX and the suborbital flights conducted by Virgin Galactic and Blue Origin have raised an interesting definitional question: What is an astronaut?

The term “Astronaut,” with a capital “A,” was actually the name of a space vehicle in Across the Zodiac, a science fiction novel written by British author Percy Greg in 1880. It combines the Greek for astro (star) and nautes (sailor). It may have been derived from “aeronaut,” which was used in the 18th century to describe those who operated balloons (the first successful flight of aeronauts having occurred in November 1783). American author Neil Jones was the first to use the term in its modern sense when describing his space travelers in Death’s Head Meteor, published in 1930. A newly established NASA appears to have started using “astronaut” in 1959 to describe those who would be launched aboard its spacecraft. Since then, an astronaut (or its Russian equivalent, cosmonaut) is a crew member on a spacecraft and has effectively become a professional label. Interestingly, the Chinese have terms describing variants of the star sailor theme, with the generic term 宇航员 (yuhang yuan, or cosmos-navigating professional) being the most common.  

In 2001, American entrepreneur Dennis Tito paid for a seat aboard a Russian Soyuz spacecraft destined for the International Space Station (ISS). This transaction, whose terms were not publicly disclosed, was brokered by U.S.-based Space Adventures. Tito and six others who followed were described as “space tourists,” a description designed to distinguish an astronaut (i.e., a person who works in space as a professional; a crewmember) from a person who has chosen to go into space for recreational purposes (i.e., a passenger or tourist). Of course, seats are a premium on these relatively dangerous missions, so orbital “space tourists” did receive minimum training to participate as an unobtrusive occupant in a complex and cramped environment and serve as essential personnel during emergencies. Suborbital space tourists receive very little training in comparison.

Eventually, and for regulatory purposes, the term “spaceflight participant” became embodied in regulations put in place by the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA), the body responsible for ensuring that commercial space transportation in the United States is conducted in a safe manner from the perspective of public health and safety, safety of property, and national security. A spaceflight participant is “someone who is engaging in spaceflight as a paying passenger but is not a member of the crew or launch provider.” Recently, the FAA expanded this definition when awarding its commercial astronaut wings to an individual that reaches or exceeds 50 miles in altitude: “[A spaceflight participant must have] demonstrated ‪activities during flight that were essential to public safety, or contributed to human space flight safety.” The FAA can also award such wings to “honorary astronauts,” apparently something the FAA determines on a case-by-case basis. So now, in the U.S. at least, we have astronauts, or professional star sailors and spaceflight participants, essentially non-professional star sailors. But these are regulatory definitions, necessary as commercial entities expand their presence in space and oversight in the public interest evolves.

But the public is not generally wise to these regulatory definitions. It sees people that go into space as astronauts or cosmonauts. Analysts like myself feel definitions are important because they help inform trend analysis of existing markets, forecasting emerging markets, and other forms of study covering the rapidly evolving space industry. Others have a more emotional interest in what it means to be an astronaut. Astronauts themselves, for instance, have chosen a specific career path leading to what has almost become a revered title, one described not by nobility but the mythos of space travel. The mythos consists of the exotic wonder of space and the paucity of human visitors to the space realm. As of the Inspiration4 mission, only 575 individuals have gone into orbital space since 1961. The vast majority received significant training, participated in dangerous missions, and conducted science and engineering work. Having spoken to some astronauts about this subject, there is a sense one must earn the right to be called an astronaut. According to this perspective, if you pay your way to space, or someone pays for your trip up there, you are not an astronaut. What constitutes earning one’s way to space is a matter of great debate.  

Others in the space industry, especially those prone to exuberant gushing about the wonder of it all, have expressed annoyance with the “elitist” perspective that one must earn the astronaut title. They adopt the view that anyone who goes into space is an astronaut, even those who have experienced spaceflight for mere minutes.

Personally, I understand both camps. I respect the point that astronauts are an elite bunch, having trained to fly aboard often dangerous vehicles to conduct work in space. I also understand the lack of patience with this view because it is exclusionary, suggests a nascent and emerging caste system, or is just plain irrelevant.

My view is that the term “astronaut” has become archaic. For almost all of spaceflight history, distinguishing people who go into space as astronauts made sense and was not controversial. These early explorers of space can rightly be called astronauts (for me, “early” covers human spaceflight from 1961 to about now). But as commercial services expand beyond communications, Earth observation, navigation, and transportation to include human spaceflight and other emerging markets, “astronaut” will come up short in its descriptive power. The term will be useless as divisions of labor emerge and different forms of work are conducted in space. In fact, in addition to forms of work we cannot possibly imagine in the centuries and millennia ahead, there will also be most of the routine jobs we take for granted. Put another way, astronauts will not be performing medical tasks, managing trash pickup, or directing space vehicles; rather, nurses, sanitation workers, and pilots will be conducting this work. 

In time, I believe “astronaut” will become less used because it doesn’t sufficiently describe what one does in space. Revisiting the Greek nautes, consider that “sailor” itself doesn’t have much utility as a descriptor of jobs on the sea or below its surface.

Certainly, if I ever went into space it will not be because I chose a career to become an astronaut. I will also never be able to pay for a ticket to orbit (about $55M), let alone suborbital space (about $300,000). But I could be chosen in a lottery to go up as an artist, for that is about the only reason I would set off for a trip like that. If such a fantastic experience were to take place, I would never presume to call myself an astronaut because 1) I do harbor a belief that the term should be reserved for early space explorers and 2) it wouldn’t adequately describe what I did up there. Perhaps I would adopt “space expedition artist.”