ARTICLE IN PRESS

Acta Astronautica 66 (2010) 890–896

Contents lists available at ScienceDirect

Acta Astronautica
journal homepage: www.elsevier.com/locate/actaastro

Humanizing outer space: architecture, habitability, and

behavioral health
Albert A. Harrison 
Department of Psychology, University of California, Davis, CA, USA

a r t i c l e i n f o abstract

Article history: Space architecture is the theory and practice of designing and building environments for
Received 16 January 2009 humans in outer space. In our present century professional astronauts and cosmonauts
Received in revised form will remain a focus for space architects, but new designs must better accommodate
11 June 2009
passengers (tourists and industrial workers) and settlers who set forth to establish off-
Accepted 13 September 2009
Available online 13 October 2009
world societies. Psychologists and architects can work together to assure good
spaceflight behavioral health, defined by a lack of neuropsychiatric dysfunction, and
Keywords: the presence of high levels of personal adjustment, cordial interpersonal relations, and
Space architecture positive interactions with the physical and social environments. By designing and
Human factors
constructing facilities that are occupant centered and activity oriented, architects
Behavioral health
increase habitability thereby decreasing environmental challenges to behavioral health.
Spaceflight psychology
Simulators and spaceflight-analogous environments make it possible to test design
solutions prior to their deployment in space. This paper concludes with suggestions for
increasing collaboration between architects and psychologists. These include increased
sharing of hypotheses and data, articulating complementary research styles, and mutual
advocacy for early, potent, and sustained involvement in mission planning and
execution.
& 2009 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.

1. Introduction space architecture. Then we will turn to the implications

Psychologists and architects are natural allies, joined
by their search to support people in their varied
endeavors. To be sure, there are some differences, in that
psychologists characteristically emphasize picking the
right people for the environment while architects mold
environments to fit their occupants. But these distinctions
are somewhat arbitrary because many psychologists share
architects’ interest in environmental design and architects
seek to understand a structure’s future occupants and
their activities before undertaking a preliminary design.
In this paper we will consider first how elements of
contemporary space psychology dovetail with modern
 Corresponding author. Tel./fax: þ1 530 756 2361.
E-mail address: aaharrison@ucdavis.edu
of twenty-first century missions for architects. At the
heart of this discussion is an organizational framework
under development by Harrison and Sherwood which
posits three levels of support (biological, psychological,
and sociocultural) for three types of spacefarers (profes-
sionals, passengers, and settlers) [1]. We will review the
opportunities offered by simulators and spaceflight-
analogous environments, and conclude with suggestions
for strengthening collaboration among architects and
psychologists.
Human factors, architecture, habitability, and beha-
vioral health are highly interrelated. Human factors and
ergonomics are roughly equivalent terms, the former
favored in the US and the latter preferred in Europe and
the UK. Traditionally, human factors focused on human
interaction with the physical environment in work
settings, but there has been a shift over the years from a

0094-5765/$ - see front matter & 2009 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.
doi:10.1016/j.actaastro.2009.09.008
 ARTICLE IN PRESS
A.A. Harrison / Acta Astronautica 66 (2010) 890–896
‘‘displays and knobs’’ orientation to a more holistic
approach [2]. Today, behavioral disciplines that are rooted
in biology, engineering, and experimental psychology
have been joined by disciplines founded in personality,
social, and organizational psychology. Narrow views of
human factors limited to anatomy, physiology, biomecha-
nics, perception and cognition are giving way to enlarged
views that include emotions, attitudes, personality, inter-
personal relations, group and organizational dynamics,
and culture. Also, contemporary human factors extend
beyond work to self-maintenance (sleeping, eating, per-
sonal hygiene) and leisure time activities [3].
A broad view of human factors is essential to protect
spacefarers from an accumulation of stresses that could
lead to performance lapses, interpersonal strife, and
possible psychiatric breakdowns. ‘‘Behavioral health’’
captures some of the psychological requirements for
contemporary and future missions [4,5]. People with
excellent behavioral health feel good about themselves,
are capable of the work that they set out to do, and are not
crippled by anxiety, muddled thought processes, extreme
emotions, or addiction to alcohol and drugs. Whereas
older notions of psychological well-being rested on the
absence of pathology, behavioral health implies positive,
rewarding interactions with both the physical and social
environments. Behavioral health acknowledges that
spaceflight has favorable psychological consequences such
as generating a sense of mastery, appreciation of the
grandeur of space, and satisfaction at being a part of an
elite team [6,7]. It recognizes that viewing the Earth from
space sometimes has a strong spiritual component,
including a sense of oneness with humanity and a strong
desire for peace [8].
Selection, training, and environmental design are all
intended to improve the person-environment fit. Collec-
tively, professionals from many fields try to identify
people who are likely to do well in space, help them
develop the requisite intellectual, emotional, and inter-
personal skills, and place them in user-friendly environ-
ments that match their needs and wants. Success depends
upon contributions from a wide range of disciplines,
including engineering, biology and medicine, psychiatry
and psychology, and architecture and design.
For architects, the goal is to design environments that
are habitable in the sense that they support their occupants
physically, psychologically, socially, and spiritually. Habit-
ability entered NASA’s vocabulary during the mid-1970s,
when Skylab had to be designed not just to be operated but
to be lived in. Subsequent improvements according to
Mohanty et al. evolve from a mix of habitability studies,
crew debriefs, esthetic experimentation, and evaluation [9].
Habitability serves the interests of behavioral health by
minimizing environmental stressors that magnify risk,
undermine performance, and raise the human cost of
occupancy. The same panoply of emotional and behavioral
problems flowing from ‘‘sick’’ environments on Earth–hot,
crowded, noisy, smelly, cramped, and crowded environ-
ments—can be expected of equally dismal environments in
space. Even as we try to avoid sick houses, schools, and
workplaces we should try to avoid unhealthy transit
vehicles, orbital facilities, and lunar or planetary bases.
891
2. Challenges for space architecture
Space architecture is the theory and practice of
designing and building environments for humans in outer
space. It combines engineering and aesthetics, and
requires knowledge of space environments, spaceflight
engineering, space system engineering, and the psychol-
ogy of isolated and confined environments [10]. Like other
architects, space architects must grapple with volumetric
limitations, activity envelopes, layouts, adjacencies, doors,
windows, and decor. Unlike their peers who design
terrestrial structures, they must reckon with the constant
lethality of the external environment, the immense costs
of lifting materials into orbit, and the constraints imposed
by flight-qualified materials, life support systems, and
limited opportunities for rescue and resupply. Design
solutions that work well in normal settings may be too
costly or fail in space. For example, sound insulation may
be prohibitively heavy and expensive, and in orbit there is
no way to dampen noise by transferring it to the outside.
Space architects build bridges across the constraints of the
spaceflight environment, engineering capabilities, the
interests of mission managers, astronauts and other end
users, and the public. Working within tight budget
constraints they weave together many different strands
to help satisfy the needs of their varied constituencies.
The first fifty years of space exploration has been
marked by several trends including increasing crew size,
crew diversity, mission duration, and partnering with
intelligent machines [11,12]. Crews have increased from
one to a half dozen or more and missions that were
measured first in hours and days are now measured in
weeks and months. Over time, male military test pilots
were supplemented by men and women from many
different professions, and the ISS is home to genuine
international crews. Continuous advances in electronics
and robotics have transformed human activity every-
where, including in space. In addition, space flight has
become ‘‘routine’’ in the sense that whereas audiences
around the world were enthralled by the successive
achievements of the earliest astronauts and cosmonauts,
from the late Apollo era on (and in the absence of disaster)
many flights have barely made the newspapers. Less
‘‘glory’’ in the form of public attention and acclaim may
reduce motivation to endure harsh environments, and
hence increase demand for better working conditions
such as improved accommodations and amenities [13].
These trends are likely to continue, not just for the
remainder of the present century, but beyond.
Accommodating new kinds of missions will make
heavy demands on space architecture including new
transit, orbital, lunar, and planetary vehicles and habitats;
each with its own set or requirements [14]. Also, space
architects will contribute to the development of space-
ports to handle new space access technology, and the
increasing number of spacefarers [15].
We know that the private sector will play an increas-
ingly active role in space. An example here is Bigelow
Aerospace’s efforts to provide space habitats and labora-
tories for governments desiring access to space without
launching a dedicated space station, and afford space
 ARTICLE IN PRESS
892 A.A. Harrison / Acta Astronautica 66 (2010) 890–896
industrialists orbital facilities on a time share basis. As
these efforts flower, new types of people will enter space,
posing new challenges for architects.
The professionals are the direct descendents of today’s
pilots and mission specialists. Highly selected and exten-
sively trained they are thoroughly versed in astronautics,
spacecraft operations, life support, space medicine, and
the scientific and commercial activities assigned to them
by their employers. Competent, self-reliant, hardy, and
resilient, professionals include two major sub-groups:
exploration/science crews and in-space facility staff.
Exploration/science crews will work in small teams. Like
today’s astronauts and cosmonauts many will be test
pilots, scientists, and engineers and they will be comfor-
table with hierarchical forms of organization. Highly
visible, their assignments will include working at the
very frontier of exploration and providing safe passage for
other spacefarers. The second type of professional, the
space facility staff, includes managers, skilled laborers,
and service specialists. Like exploration/science profes-
sionals they, too, will be highly trained, but for nonflight
assignments—for example, managing a space hotel or
operating a lunar power station. Their function is helping
other people realize their ambitions in space. Here, a
cruise ship is a good analogy: both the ships captain and
the purser have long term careers at sea, but provide their
clients different services.
The second category, passengers, includes business
people, industrial workers and tourists who enter space
under the care of the professionals. Compared to profes-
sionals, passengers will be less carefully selected and
trained, and less well-equipped to survive in rough,
industrial-type settings. For some passengers, spaceflight
will largely be the means to an end: for example, to reach
the Moon where they will work as a physician or
communications technician. Other passengers will fly as
tourists to satisfy their curiosity, lust for adventure, or to
boost their social status. Years of preparation accorded a
professional may be replaced by a few weeks, or, in the
case of tourists, a few days of intensive instruction [16].
The third category, settlers, consists of people who are
en route to lunar or planetary destinations where they will
build and occupy permanent communities. Traveling in
relatively large numbers, they will need support in transit
as well as at their destination. They will want architects to
design entire communities that include multiple living,
working, and recreational structures. Much of the construc-
tion will have to be done on site, initially using materials
sent from Earth and later relying on in situ resources.
Human requirements for spaceflight fall into three
categories: biological requirements for safety and good
physical health, psychological requirements for high
performance and good mental health, and sociocultural
requirements for positive interpersonal and intergroup
relationships.
2.1. Biological requirements
Outer space is a lethal and unforgiving environment
and the first requirement is to protect the life, limb, and
mental stability of people who venture there. Threats to
safety come from structural and mechanical problems,
communication failures, insufficient or spoiled supplies,
and much else. This demands robust designs that can
withstand the harsh environments of space, and that are
user-friendly and forgiving in that they are tolerant of
people’s limits and mistakes.
Although professionals require a safe environment,
high levels of skill and extensive training help preserve
their safety. Architectural interventions can help to ensure
that neither passengers nor their baggage interfere with
spacecraft operations. To meet the needs of passengers
and settlers, safety devices and procedures will have to
achieve higher standards of transparency and ease of
operation, especially if children are on board. Warnings
and alarms must be immediately detected and under-
stood, rescue equipment easy to find and use, and escape
procedures clear, memorable, and not dependent on
months of training and peak physical fitness.
In the short term, microgravity is associated with space
sickness, a form of motion sickness, and frequent urina-
tion to eliminate excess bodily fluids. These problems tend
to dissipate within a few days. Microgravity also reduces
the load on the skeleton and muscles. Over time, this leads
to osteoporosis, cardiovascular deconditioning, and ske-
letal muscle loss which become most apparent when the
spacefarer returns to the full gravitation of Earth or the
partial (by terrestrial standards) gravitation of the Moon
or Mars. Load-bearing exercise is a potent antidote but it is
difficult to provide good exercise facilities in cramped
environments that lack proper ventilation and sanitation.
We must seek improved life support systems that
provide ever-improving levels of reliability and comfort
for passengers and settlers. Challenges include achieving
proper temperature and humidity balance, maintaining a
continuous supply of fresh air, ample water, developing
appealing and easy to prepare foods that are acceptable in
many different cultures, and improved hygienic systems
that are easy to use and perform well under conditions of
microgravity. Quality sleep is important for professionals
to do their jobs properly, and for passengers and settlers to
react appropriately to emergencies, enjoy their flights and
reach their destinations reasonably refreshed and with
their performance capabilities intact. Sleeping quarters
may require better shielding from sound, light, and
adjacent activities. Maintaining a 24- h day by means of
illumination control and activity scheduling will help. Like
cruise lines, space tourism companies that earn a reputa-
tion for providing quality experiences will develop a
competitive edge over those that offer the minimum.
Spacecraft will require health maintenance facilities to
mitigate the effects of illness and repair cuts, broken
bones, burns, and other injuries. Slow, debilitating
processes that can be ignored on brief missions—tooth
decay, failing eyesight, skin cancer—will require attention.
For professionals, health care can be basic with medics
standing in for physicians, podiatrists, and dentists.
Passengers, because of their brief time aboard the craft,
may also get by with minimal services. Crews on truly
extended missions and settlers will need larger, more fully
staffed, better equipped health maintenance facilities
including diagnostic tools, surgeries, and, eventually, the
 ARTICLE IN PRESS
A.A. Harrison / Acta Astronautica 66 (2010) 890–896
ability to synthesize drugs and fabricate prosthetic
devices. Settlers will have to cope with pregnancies,
births, and postnatal care, gingivitis, cataracts and hearing
loss as well as managing the end of life for those who are
terminally ill.
2.2. Psychological requirements
All spacefarers deserve sufficient interior volume to
work comfortably and efficiently. Designs should offer
ample and rational storage areas, the type and intensity of
light that is appropriate to the task, facilities that are easy
to maintain, and clear channels for accurate communica-
tion. Everything should be easy to repair in situ. Space
architects and their allies may be able to eliminate or at
least minimize tasks that astronauts and cosmonauts do
not like to perform, for example, routine maintenance and
inventory control.
Space architects will grapple with a full range of issues
pertaining to the human-system interface: the best
techniques for presenting information in clear and usable
form, switches and knobs that are quickly identified and
easy to use, activity envelopes that allow people to work
comfortably, and secure and pleasant working conditions.
Beyond this there are many design issues regarding
partnering humans and intelligent machines—that is,
artificial intelligence, automation, and robotics. What do
people do best, what do machines do best, and how do we
combine their activities for synergistic results? How do
we provide operators with enough information to under-
stand a situation without subjecting them to information
overload? Settlements on the Moon or Mars will have the
advantage of natural gravity, and volumetric limitations
are likely to be less severe there. Still, human-machine
interface issues will extend into new operational areas,
such as agricultural production, mining, and manufactur-
ing. Here, too, basic rules apply: simplicity of design and
operation, high reliability, ease of repair, room for
improvisation, and other features that reduce the prob-
ability of misuse or error.
Leisure time activities became important during the
extended duration missions of the space station era and
will be even more prominent on future missions. At many
remote locations, including outer space, simply looking
out windows or viewports is a favorite pastime. Addition-
ally, reading, watching television, listening to music, and
communicating with people on Earth are popular. Future
spacecraft designs should make greater allowance for
varied leisure-time activities, ranging from mere time
killers to those that lead to personal enhancement.
For tourists, the entire mission is a leisure time activity
although an educational one. Participation in the flight
itself is the main point and tourists’ primary interest will
be maximizing the space experience. Tourists will take
advantage of microgravity to ‘‘float’’ and tumble around
and cluster near windows and viewports. Some tourists
will want to participate in dangerous activities (such as
EVAs) and it would be useful to have safe substitutes for
these [16].
893
We suspect that for settlers in particular the ‘‘excite-
ment of the mission’’ will wear thin and simply looking
out the window will become less popular as months grind
by, particularly at a lunar or planetary base. For settlers, it
will be more important to either reinstate leisure time
options that are available on Earth, or provide acceptable
substitutes. There will be greater need for group activities
such as sports contests and religious rituals. Educational
opportunities are necessary, not just for children, but for
adults who seek advancement, career shifts, or new skills
to address changing community needs.
2.3. Sociocultural requirements
Spacefarers are cut off from their normal social
contacts and confined with a small group of other people.
Isolation and confinement have always been considered
major challenges of living in space. Spacefarers may take
direction from ‘‘outsiders’’ at mission control, but the
trend has been in the direction of greater autonomy for
crews in flight, a trend that is sure to continue as distances
increase and delay communication with Earth. Space
crews have to organize into cohesive, effective teams that
interact successfully with other teams and within the
larger fold of the sponsoring organization.
Prolonged isolation and confinement are associated
with increased interpersonal tensions, so designers should
consider various mechanisms for minimizing social
clashes. For example, interior space allocations should
allow people to work without interfering with one
another. We anticipate conflicts between the professionals
that operate the spacecraft and the tourists [3,16].
Professionals are likely to regard passengers as inexper-
ienced and hence potentially dangerous. Professionals will
have concerns that passengers might inadvertently
change a setting, operate a control, or, by means of
improper use, damage a crucial piece of equipment. At
lunar or planetary bases, passengers may not understand
or they may ignore protocols regarding treatment of the
natural environment. In their enthusiasm, they could
damage or contaminate a fragile extraterrestrial ecosys-
tem. Professionals may be torn between managing space
operations and monitoring passengers. Tourists will
expect the crew to pay them significant attention and to
attend to their idiosyncratic and collective needs at times
when the crew’s attention must be directed elsewhere.
Privacy provides down time for rest and recuperation,
limited and protected communication with select fellow
crewmembers, and, via electronic media, with people on
Earth. Tourists will expect an opportunity for sex in space,
and settlers, who are worried about establishing viable
off-world communities, will require this. Spacefarers will
want small areas for confidential conversations or two-
person games, but also large rooms for an all-in discussion
or party. One of the challenges for space architects is
creating environments that support privacy but discou-
rage people from isolating themselves from the group for
extended periods.
Cultural differences offer a welcome source of diver-
sity, but can also increase design challenges. Problems
 ARTICLE IN PRESS
894 A.A. Harrison / Acta Astronautica 66 (2010) 890–896
arise when not everyone on board shares a common
language. Different standards in areas such as personal
hygiene or in preferred social interaction distances, and
idiosyncratic preferences for food and entertainment can
contribute to conflicts. Extensive foreign language train-
ing, cross-cultural awareness training, mutual experiences
and shared goals should reduce cultural tensions. Designs
that avoid ethnocentric biases and recognize cultural
differences will be welcome. A related issue is architec-
tural support for cultural events that would be celebrated
on Earth: national holidays, religious events such as
Christmas and Easter, and wedding anniversaries. Here,
architecture must help people tolerate cultural differences
but without forcing them to participate in celebrations
that do not interest them.
Eventually, settlers will need all of the major social
institutions that support societies on Earth [17]. These
include government, an economy, nuclear families, an
educational system, a legal system, and if not organized
religion then something that provides a coherent world-
view and set of values and caters to spiritual needs. In
some cases social institutions may be exported from Earth
(for example during a religious migration), in other cases
these may emerge in skeletal form (for example, martial
law). First and foremost, in all cases institutions will
require modification to meet the demands of crew
demographics and the local space environment.
For settlers, dating, mating, and procreation may be
quite different than on Earth. People who are unable or
unwilling to get married or have children may suffer
because everyone else may see them as failing to
contribute to the settlement’s long term viability. In other
cases, pragmatic considerations may discourage reproduc-
tion, because this may be seen as too great a drain on
facilities or resources. Here, architects need to be sensitive
to the varied types of nuclear families that might evolve.
Once at their destination, settlers are likely to develop
a new culture which reflects their adopted environment,
living conditions, and interactions with one another. With
the passage of time—especially in the absence of contact
with outsiders—settlement culture may become increas-
ingly differentiated from terrestrial culture. Space archi-
tects can assist by providing settlers with workable design
elements that help carry forth elements of terrestrial
culture, but also give them ways to strengthen their
emerging culture in space. Architects must be cognizant of
changes over time and stages, for example, initial land-
ings, first communities, and mature settlements. On the
whole, since future space missions will vary more in their
tasks and personnel, architecture of their habitats should
provide enough flexibility to adjust to different crew sizes,
equipment, supply configurations, and tasks.
3. Analogues and simulators
From the birth of the Space Age behavioral researchers
have looked beyond the laboratory but short of the stars
for useful subject populations and research settings.
Simulators are laboratory mock-ups or models of space-
craft or habitats that are purposely designed to capture
one or more aspects of spaceflight. Examples include
shuttle and space station simulators, neutral buoyancy
chambers, aircraft that afford brief periods of microgravity
through parabolic flight, and computer programs that
generate virtual space stations. Simulations can be staged
or targeted to resemble specific space missions. Simula-
tions range from rough approximations of selected
activities to full scale mission rehearsals. The fidelity or
realism of a simulation depends on funding, ingenuity,
and the activity of interest. For many purposes, low-
fidelity simulations may be acceptable—for example, it is
not necessary to have a space station mockup for bed rest
studies of the debilitating effects of microgravity. On the
other hand, high-fidelity simulations may boost interest,
commitment, and motivation, creating psychological
states similar to those of people in flight. Throughout
the history of space exploration, from mock-ups of the
first capsules through the space shuttle, Salyut, Mir and
the ISS, simulators served as crucial precursors of work-
able spacecraft.
Spaceflight-analogous environments are authentic,
real-world settings where exploration, science, military
operations, and other work are conducted. Also known as
‘‘extreme and unusual environments,’’ ‘‘exotic environ-
ments,’’ and ‘‘ICEs’’ (isolated and confined environments)
they capture one or more aspects of spaceflight with
varying degrees of fidelity. The better examples offer
danger and risk, hardship, isolation and confinement, and
heavy workloads. Over the years, researchers have
proposed many different analogues for spaceflight includ-
ing caves, surface ships (whalers, supertankers, coast
guard cutters, racing sailboats), undersea habitats (sub-
marines and underwater research vessels) remote mining
and industrial facilities, missile bases, mountain ascents,
and national parks [18–20]. Fidelity, accessibility, afford-
ability, and leverage (the extent to which the results
extend to many different extreme and unusual environ-
ments) are among the criteria proposed for evaluating
analogue environments [21]. The usefulness of the
simulation, analogue, or hybrid depends on its ‘‘match’’
with a specific space mission, and we need quantitative
methods for assessing goodness of fit.
The most obvious benefit of analogue environments is
their number and relative ease of accessibility by
researchers. Conducting studies on Earth simplifies logis-
tics, reduces expense, and bypasses most objections to
studying astronauts. Analogue environments make it
possible to conduct ethical studies of people under
dangerous conditions. Scientists who would never put
subjects in a depressurized chamber to study the effects of
reduced oxygen on mental functioning would have few
qualms about testing volunteer mountain climbers
ascending through the rarified atmosphere approaching
the top of Mount Everest. Also, like simulations, analogue
environments help us glimpse the future. Nobody has
been to Mars, but we should be able to get a preview by
studying people at Antarctic bases made to resemble
anticipated Martian outposts.
Simulators and analogues have characteristic strengths
and weaknesses, but it’s possible to combine the best of
both by conducting mission simulations in analogue
 ARTICLE IN PRESS
A.A. Harrison / Acta Astronautica 66 (2010) 890–896
environments. This ‘‘hybrid’’ approach maintains the face
validity of the simulation while adding authentic risks and
dangers. As part of its Aurora Exploration Program, ESA is
conducting Mars simulations at Concordia, a base built by
the French Polar Institute and the Italian Antarctic
Program [22]. Completed in 2004, this complex consists
of two cylindrical three story buildings for living and
working plus a smaller outbuilding for the power plant
and other life support equipment. Accessible only from
November to February, it is located on a high plateau
approximately 1,100 and 1,200 km from the French and
Italian coastal stations at Dumont d’Urville and Terra Nova
Bay, respectively. As of 2007, the third winter-over was
underway, and ESA had released a call for research
proposals in the areas of glaciology, atmospheric sciences,
astronomy and astrophysics, Earth sciences, technology,
and human biology and medicine.
4. Strengthening the partnership
At the beginning of this paper we proposed that shared
interest in human behavior make architects and psychol-
ogists natural allies. To conclude we will consider a few
ways to strengthen the partnership, to increase the
symbiosis, to augment the mutual payoffs in this
win-–win situation. First, architecture and psychology
can look to each other for hypotheses and data. Architects’
hunches and observations are useful leads for psycholo-
gists, and psychologists already have some research
results of interest to architects. Open communications
channels and professionals who have one foot in each of
the two ‘‘camps’’ can help enrich both fields. The action
step here is for architects and psychologists to pay closer
attention to each others’ work. The space architecture
repository of peer-reviewed books, papers and chapters is
an excellent resource for anyone who is interested in the
design and development of spacecraft and habitats [23].
Second, architects and psychologists have complemen-
tary approaches or styles. Psychologists, as scientists,
observe phenomena and test hypotheses. They are geared
for systematic, quantitative studies that can inform
architectural theories and designs. Psychologists have
many tools—rating scales, questionnaires, non-obtrusive
measures of preference or use and the like—that can put
architecture on a stronger empirical footing. Unlike data-
driven psychologists, architects pursue creative visions. As
they translate imagination to reality they draw on
professional design experience mixed with peer and user
evaluations. Design solutions work their way from the
artists’ pad or computer screen to crude mock-ups and
undergo successive refinement over time. The different
styles of psychologists and architects set the stage for a
rich dialectic that can works to the advantage of each
profession. The action step here is collaborative research
proposals that combine data and vision. These could be
particularly helpful for selling projects to sponsors that
seek well-defined reliable research procedures and replic-
able, quantitative results as well as high levels of
architectural creativity.
895
Finally, architects and psychologists can work together
as advocates of behavioral research. As Vogler and
Jorgensen note, all too often there is a serious neglect of
both architectural and behavioral issues in the course of
mission planning, an oversight that encourages the
development of little more than inhabited machines. This
is a false economy because overlooking the human
element increases rather than decreases costs [24].
We suspect that many architects, like many psychol-
ogists, have run across: (1) pressures to get on with the
metal-bending before behavioral requirements are under-
stood; (2) self-styled experts, usually in high positions,
who consider their personal views better founded than
those advanced by highly qualified and seasoned profes-
sionals; (3) managerial convictions that past practices and
rules of thumb are reliable, effective, and will work fine
for the next generation of spacecraft; and (4) reluctance to
acknowledge possible human limitations or frailties as
this might reflect unfavorably on a space agency and its
personnel [5]. Similarly, many psychologists have faced
the problems noted by space architects: (1) inertia that
discourages novelty; (2) overuse of a few ‘‘prime movers;’’
(3) trying to operate in a confusing array of overlapping
and continually changing organizations; and (4) excessive
dependency on volunteer efforts [25]. Both architects and
psychologists can make worthwhile contributions to
space exploration, and we must teach our colleagues from
other fields that we do more than increase expense or add
time to project completion. Our shared goals should
include greater professional recognition; early, substan-
tial, and continuing involvement in mission planning and
execution; and the authority, money and time to do the
job right.
To conclude: psychological and interpersonal factors
are among the many considerations that will determine
the fate of the next hundred years of space exploration.
We have to abandon thinking in terms of what we can
‘‘get by with,’’ and wishfully viewing spacefarers as
inexhaustible reservoirs of ability and resolve, always
cheerfully willing to ‘‘pick up the slack.’’ It is not necessary
to guarantee resort-like living conditions, but if the
biological, psychological, and sociocultural capabilities
and needs of professionals, passengers and settlers are not
taken into account we can expect costly if not irretrievable
failures. Let our professions move forward together to
fulfill our mutual potential in this new era of spaceflight.
References
[1] A.A. Harrison, B. Sherwood, Professionals, passengers, and settlers:
new communities in space, Paper presented at Contact, NASA-Ames
Research Center, Moffett Field, CA, 6 March, 2008.
[2] D. Meister, Conceptual Aspects of Human Factors, Johns Hopkins
University Press, Baltimore, 1989.
[3] A.A. Harrison, Spacefaring: The Human Dimension, University of
California Press, Berkeley, 2001.
[4] J.R. Ball, C.H. Evans, Safe Passage: Astronaut Care for Exploration
Missions, National Academy Press, Washington DC, 2001.
[5] A.A. Harrison, Behavioral health: integrating research and applica-
tion in support of exploration missions, Aviation, Space and
Environmental Medicine 76 (6 (suppl.)) (2005) B3–B12.
[6] A.A. Harrison, J.E. Summit, How third force psychology might view
humans in space, Space Power 10 (1991) 85–103.
 ARTICLE IN PRESS
896 A.A. Harrison / Acta Astronautica 66 (2010) 890–896
[7] P. Suedfeld, Invulnerability, coping, salutogenesis, integration: four
phases of spaceflight psychology, Aviation, Space and Environmen-
tal Medicine 76 (6 (suppl.)) (2005) B61–B66.
[8] F. White, The Overview Effect, Houghton-Mifflin, Boston, 1987.
[9] S. Mohanty, J. Jorgensen, M. Nystrom, Psychological factors
associated with habitat design for planetary mission simulators.
AIAA 2006-7345, Presented at Space, 2006, San Jose, CA, 19–21
September, 2006.
[10] J. Osburg, C. Adams, B. Sherwood, A mission for space architecture.
SAE 2003-01-2431, July, 2003.
[11] M.M. Connors, A.A. Harrison, F.R. Akins, Living Aloft: Human
Requirements for Extended Spaceflight, NASA SP-483, NASA,
Washington, DC, NASA, 1985.
[12] M.M. Connors, A.A. Harrison, J.E. Summit, Crew systems: integrating
human and technical subsystems for the exploration of space,
Behavioral Science 39 (1994) 183–212.
[13] R.L. Helmreich, J.L. Wilhelm, T.E. Runge, Psychological considera-
tions in future space missions, in: S.T. Cheston, D.L. Winters, (Eds.),
The Human Factors in Outer Space Production, American Associa-
tion for the Advancement of Science, Selected Symposium No. 50,
Washington, D.C., 1980, pp., 1–23.
[14] L. Bell, G.D. Hines, Mars habitat modules: launch, scaling, and
functional design considerations, Acta Astronautica 57 (2005)
48–58.
[15] C.M. Adams, G. Petrov, Spaceport master planning: principles and
precedents. AIAA 2006-7325, Presented at Space, 2006, San Jose,
CA, 19–21 September, 2006.
[16] H.A. Wichman, Behavioral health and implications of civilian
spaceflight, Aviation, Space and Environmental Medicine
76 (6 (suppl.)) (2005) B61–B66.
[17] J. Pass, A.A. Harrison, Shifting from airports to spaceports: an
astrosociological model of social change toward spacefaring
societies., Paper presented at the AIAA Space 2007 Conference in
Long Beach, CA, 20 September 20, 2007.
[18] A.A. Harrison, Y.A. Clearwater, C.P. McKay, From Antarctica to Outer
Space: Life in Isolation and Confinement, Springer, New York, 1990.
[19] J. Stuster, Bold Endeavors, US Naval Institute Press, Annapolis,
MD, 1996.
[20] J. Stuster, Analogue prototypes for lunar and Mars exploration,
Aviation, Space and Environmental Medicine 76 (6 (suppl.)) (2005)
B78–B83.
[21] M. Shepanek, Human behavioral research in space: quandaries for
research subjects and researchers, Aviation, Space and Environ-
mental Medicine 76 (6 (suppl.)) (2005) B25–B31.
[22] ESA Press Release, Mission to Mars via Antarctica, /http://www.
spaceref.com/news/viewpr.html?pid=18591S, 21 December 2005,
(accessed 30 November 2007).
[23] Space Architecture Publications, /http://www.spacearchitect.org/
indexhtmS, (accessed 21 May 2009).
[24] A. Vogler, J. Jorgensen, Windows to the world–doors to space, Paper
presented at the 7th Workshop on Space and the Arts, Noordwijk,
the Netherlands, 18–21 May, 2004.
[25] B. Sherwood, Organizing ourselves: schema to build the interna-
tional space architecture community, Presented at Space, 2006,
San Jose, CA, 19–21 September, 2006.