Seedhouse E. Life Support Systems For Humans in Space 2020

Erik Seedhouse
Life Support
Systems
for Humans
in Space
Life Support Systems for Humans in Space
Erik Seedhouse
Life Support Systems

for Humans in Space
Erik Seedhouse
Embry Riddle Aeronautical University
Daytona Beach, FL
USA
ISBN 978-3-030-52858-4 ISBN 978-3-030-52859-1 (eBook)

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-52859-1
© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020

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V
Preface
»» The temperature was not strikingly low as temperatures go down here, but the ter-
rific winds penetrate the flimsy fabric of our fragile tents and create so much draught
that it is impossible to keep warm within. At supper last night our drinking-water
froze over in the tin in the tent before we could drink it. It is curious how thirsty we
all are.
― Ernest Shackleton, South
I teach a number of life support systems classes at the undergraduate and post-
graduate level. After every course, students are encouraged to write course evalua-
tions, and one of the most repeated comments in these evaluations is that there is
no dedicated textbook on the subject of spaceflight life support systems. Peter Eck-
art’s excellent Spaceflight Life Support and Biospherics addresses some of the mate-
rial covered in the courses I teach, but the book was published way back in 1996,
and a lot has changed since then.
So, I decided to write the book that you’re holding now. This book is intended
to support the myriad courses I teach on the subject of spaceflight life support in
addition to other courses I teach that include the subject of life support. Hopefully,
this book will also be helpful as a reference guide for courses taught at other uni-
versities and colleges around the world. The book is structured as a textbook and
follows a step-by-step approach in addressing the core topics of spaceflight life
support. In addition to serving as a textbook, this publication is also intended to
be a source of information on the subject of spaceflight life support and the devel-
opment of technologies that enable astronauts to spend months in space.
This book cannot encompass all the topics of spaceflight life support. For that,
there is a major reference work – the Handbook of Life Support Systems for Space-
craft and Extraterrestrial Habitats – for which I am a Co-Editor-in-Chief. This
major reference work is published by Springer and is nearing completion at the
time of writing.
As always, in writing any book, I have been fortunate to have had reviewers (in
this case via Praxis, for whom I have written many books) who made helpful com-
ments concerning the content of this publication. I am also grateful to Maury
Solomon and Hannah Kaufman and their team at Springer for guiding this book
through the publication process. Thank-you to Ms. ArulRonika Pathinathan, Proj-
ect Manager at Springer/SPi Content Solutions, and her team in producing this
textbook and thank-you also to all those who gave permission to use many of the
images in this book.
Erik Seedhouse, PhD
Flagler Beach, FL, USA
August 2020
VII
Contents
1 Life Support System Basics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
The Atmosphere . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4
The Lithosphere, Hydrosphere, and Biosphere . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Matter Cycling in the Biosphere . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
The Oxygen Cycle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
The Nitrogen Cycle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
The Carbon Cycle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
The Phosphorus Cycle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
Space Environment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
Radiation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
Gravity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Space Debris . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Vacuum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
Planetary Environments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
The Moon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20
Mars . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
2 Space Physiology and Psychology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
Bone Loss . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
Bone Loss in Spaceflight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
Countermeasures to Bone Loss . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
Muscle Loss . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
Muscle Physiology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
Muscle Atrophy in Space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Neurovestibular Effects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Space Motion Sickness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Vision Impairment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Theories . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
Case Studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
Intracranial Pressure . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
Cerebrospinal Fluid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
Optic Nerve Sheath Diameter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42
Posterior Globe Flattening . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42
Microstructural Anatomical Differences . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
Cardiovascular System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
Fluid Shift . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
Diuresis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
Nutritional Issues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
Space Food System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
VIII
Contents
Nutritional Countermeasures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
Psychosocial Support . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
Crew Selection . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49
Astronauts with the Wrong Stuff . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
Confinement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
Salutogenesis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56
Immune System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
Radiation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Galactic Cosmic Rays . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Measuring Galactic Cosmic Rays . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Solar Particle Events . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60
Measuring Solar Particle Radiation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
Radiation Dose on Board the International Space Station . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
Radiation and Crew Health . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63
Intravehicular Radiation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
Biomedical Consequences of Exposure to Space Radiation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
Central Nervous System Effects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
Behavioral Studies of CNS Risks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Altered Neurogenesis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Oxidative Damage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
Alzheimer’s Disease . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
Radiation-Induced Bone Loss . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71
3 Open-Loop Vs. Closed-Loop Life Support Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Open-Loop Vs. Closed-Loop Life Support Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Life Support System Design Factors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78
Crew Requirements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
Environmental Requirements: Radiation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
Environmental Requirements: Metabolic Rates . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
Environmental Requirements: Nutrition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
Physicochemical Life Support Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
Atmosphere Management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89
Bioregenerative Life Support Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91
Controlled Ecological Life Support System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
4 Evolution and Development of Life Support Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
Mercury . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
Mercury Life Support Subsystems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
Gemini . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
Primary Oxygen Subsystem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
Water Management Subsystem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112
Temperature Control Subsystem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112
IX
Contents
Suit Loop . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113

Storage of Cryogenic Liquids . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
Physiological Measures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
EVA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
Apollo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
Command Module ECS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
Lunar Module Environmental Control System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
Life Support System Issues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
Extravehicular Mobility Unit . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
Space Shuttle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140
Air Revitalization System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140
Water Coolant Loop System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 142
Atmosphere Revitalization Pressure Control System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 142
Active Thermal Control System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143
Supply and Wastewater System (SWWS) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
Waste Collection System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
Airlock Support . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146
Extravehicular Activity Mobility Units and Crew Altitude Protection System . . . . . . . . . . . 146
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
5 International Space Station Life Support System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
United States Orbital Segment Life Support System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
Mass Balance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154
ISS ECLSS Overview . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155
Atmosphere Control System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
Air Revitalization System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
Advances in ARS Technology: The Advanced Closed-Loop System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
Temperature and Humidity Control System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
Fire Detection and Suppression System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164
Water Recovery and Management System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164
Vacuum System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166
Russian Orbital Segment Life Support System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
Atmosphere Control System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169
Oxygen Supply System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169
Air Purification System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
Gas Analysis System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171
Temperature and Humidity Control . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172
Water Supply System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172
Food Supply Facilities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172
Sanitation and Hygiene Equipment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173
Fire Detection and Suppression System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 174
Paradigms in Life Support: The Aggregation of Marginal Gains and Thirsty Walls . . . 175
The Aggregation of Marginal Gains . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175
Thirsty Walls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178
X
Contents
6 Extravehicular Activity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183
Extravehicular Activity Mobility Units . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183
EMU Elements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 184
Donning the EMU . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 187
Extravehicular Activity Prebreathe Protocols . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 188
History of Prebreathe Protocols . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 189
Select Prebreathe Protocols . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 189
Airlock . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192
Treatment of Decompression Sickness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193
Ebullism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 194
Summary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196
7 Countermeasures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201
A Short History of the Application of Exercise in Space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202
Exercise Capacity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208
Radiation Countermeasures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210
Setting Acceptable Risk Levels for Astronauts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
Permissible Exposure Limits . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212
The ALARA Principle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 216
Radiation Dosimetry and Detection . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217
Passive Dosimetry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217
Intravehicular TEPC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219
Shielding . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 222
Water as a Radiation Shield . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
Magnetic Shielding . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
Electrical Shielding . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225
Linear Energy Transfer and Relative Biological Effectiveness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225
Polyethylene as a Shielding Material . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
AstroRad Radiation Shield . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
Pharmacological Countermeasures and Radioprotectors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
Psychological Countermeasures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
Mars500 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234
Protecting the Immune System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
Health Countermeasures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
Supplements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237
Pharmacological Countermeasures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237
Exercise . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 238
Vaccination . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 238
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239
XI
Contents
8 Growing Food in Space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 244
Plants on Earth: A Primer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 244
Germination . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 245
Roots and Stems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 245
Veggie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246
Plant Pillows . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246
Advanced Plant Growth Habitat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 248
Research to Date . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
MELiSSA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250
MELiSSA Development . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 252
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
9 Future Life Support Concepts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259
Artificial Gravity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259
Artificial Gravity in Space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 264
Combining Exercise with Artificial Gravity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 264
Optimizing Variables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265
Hibernation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266
Animal Hibernation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266
Human Hibernation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 268
Bioprinting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 271
Biofabrication . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272
Bioprinting Tech . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
Nanotech . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278
Vasculoid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283
Supplementary Information
ppendix Ia: Ionizing Radiation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 286
A
Appendix Ib: Radiological Protection . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 287
Appendix II: Intracranial Hypertension . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288
Appendix III: Psychology of Survival . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 291
Appendix IV: Environmental and Thermal Operating System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 294
Appendix V: EVA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301
Appendix VI: Hypersleep Recovery Manual . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 304
Appendix VII: Nanotechnology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 307
Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309
About the Author
Erik Seedhouse
is a Professor of Spaceflight Operations and Human Factors Aviation
Safety at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University. He has extensive
practical and theoretical experience in many of the subjects in this
book. After completing his first degree, he joined the 2nd Battalion,
the Parachute Regiment. During his time in the “Paras,” Erik spent 6
months in Belize, where he was trained in the art of jungle warfare.
Later, he spent several months learning the intricacies of desert war-
fare in Cyprus. He made more than 30 jumps from a Hercules C130
aircraft, performed more than 200 helicopter abseils, and fired more
light anti-tank weapons than he cares to remember!
Upon returning to academia, the Erik embarked upon a Master’s
degree which he supported by winning prize money in 100 km run-
ning races. After placing third in the World 100 km Championships
in 1992, Erik turned to ultra-distance triathlon, winning the World
Endurance Triathlon Championships in 1995 and 1996. For good
measure he won the World Double Ironman Championships in 1995
and the infamous Decatriathlon, an event requiring competitors to
swim 38 km, cycle 1800 km, and run 422 km. Nonstop!
In 1996, Erik pursued his PhD at the German Space Agency’s
Institute for Space Medicine. While studying, he found time to win
Ultraman Hawai’i and the European Ultraman Championships as
well as completing Race Across America. Due to his success as the
world’s leading ultra-distance triathlete, Erik was featured in dozens
of magazine and television interviews. In 1997 GQ magazine named
him the “Fittest Man in the World.”
In 1999 Erik took a research job at Simon Fraser University. In
2005, he worked as an astronaut training consultant for Bigelow
Aerospace. Between 2008 and 2013, Erik served as Director of Can-
ada’s manned centrifuge and hypobaric operations. In 2009, he was
one of the final 30 candidates in the Canadian Space Agency’s Astro-
naut Recruitment Campaign. Erik has a dream job as a professor at
Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Florida.
He holds a pilot license and in his spare time works as an astronaut
instructor for Project PoSSUM, occasional film consultant to Hol-
lywood, a professional speaker, triathlon coach, and author. He also
serves as a consultant to myriad television productions, and in the
summer he usually ventures into the mountains—he has reached the
XIII
About the Author
summit of Kilimanjaro, Aconcagua, Elbrus, Rainier, Island Peak, and

several others. This textbook is his 30th and final publication (one
of his bucket list items was to write a bookshelf of books and Erik’s
bookshelf holds 30 books, so objective achieved!). When not enjoying
the sun and rocket launches on Florida’s Space Coast with his wife,
Alice, he divides his time between Waikoloa, Hawai’i and his cottage
in Sandefjord, Norway.
1 1
Life Support System

Basics
Credit: NASA
Contents
Introduction – 3
The Atmosphere – 4
The Lithosphere, Hydrosphere,

and Biosphere – 5
Matter Cycling in the Biosphere – 7

The Oxygen Cycle – 7
The Nitrogen Cycle – 8
The Carbon Cycle – 9
The Phosphorus Cycle – 9

E. Seedhouse, Life Support Systems for Humans in Space,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-52859-1_1
Space Environment – 9
Radiation – 10
Gravity – 13
Space Debris – 14
Vacuum – 16
Planetary Environments – 19
The Moon – 20
Mars – 21
References – 22
Introduction
3 1
nnLearning Objectives
After completing this chapter, you should be able to:
55 Describe and distinguish between the layers of the atmosphere and provide
salient characteristics of each layer
55 Describe key characteristics of the lithosphere, hydrosphere, and biosphere
55 Explain what is meant by the term biomes
55 Explain the significance of the carbon and phosphorus cycles as they pertain to
life on Earth
55 Describe key characteristics of the space environment
55 Explain the difference between SPEs and GCRs
55 Explain what is meant by RBE
55 Describe the rationale for tissue weighting when assessing radiation exposure
55 Explain the effects of microgravity on human physiology
55 Explain the significance of the Armstrong Line
55 List five key distinguishing characteristics of the lunar and Martian environments
Introduction
Any book that tackles the subject of life support has to start with a summary
of the basic features of the terrestrial environment here on Earth. So, the
first part of this chapter does exactly that (. Fig. 1.1). We’ll begin with the

atmosphere.
.. Fig. 1.1 Crew Earth Observation image ISS008-E-13304 taken on 28 January 2004. This is one
of the top ten most popular images taken by astronauts from the International Space Station (ISS).
The image features Mt. Everest (8850 meters) and Makalu (8462 meters) and an oblique view of the
Himalayas looking south from over the Tibetan Plateau. Credit: NASA
4 Chapter 1 · Life Support System Basics
The Atmosphere
1
One way to think of the Earth is to think of it being comprised of several layers.
Let us start with the atmosphere (. Fig. 1.2). As you can see in . Fig. 1.2, the low-

est layer of the atmosphere, the troposphere, extends to only 17 kilometers a ltitude,
but it is this layer that contains most of our life-giving oxygen. As you climb higher
in the troposphere, temperature and air pressure fall.
The next layer is the stratosphere, which stretches to 48 kilometers above sea
level. The lower portion of the stratosphere contains ozone, which is important for
filtering out much of the Sun’s harmful ultraviolet radiation. Unlike the troposphere,
the stratosphere increases in temperature as you climb higher. This rising tempera-
ture trend means that air in the stratosphere is not as turbulent as the troposphere,
which is one of the reasons commercial aircraft fly in this layer of the atmosphere.
Continue climbing and you reach the mesosphere, which extends to 85 kilome-
ters altitude. Unlike the stratosphere, this layer gets colder the higher you rise. In
fact, the coldest temperatures (about −90 °C) in Earth’s atmosphere are found near
the upper reaches of this layer.
.. Fig. 1.2 The divisions of the

atmosphere. Credit: NASA
The Lithosphere, Hydrosphere, and Biosphere
5 1
.. Fig. 1.3 The Northern lights. Credit: NASA
Next up is the thermosphere, which is a layer that absorbs high energy X-rays
and ultraviolet radiation. Since the Sun exerts such an influence on this layer, the
upper limit of this layer may vary between 500 and 1000 kilometers (the ISS orbits
at an altitude of 400 kilometers). Temperatures can vary between 500 °C and
2000 °C in this layer. It also happens to be the layer in which the Northern and
Southern lights occur (. Fig. 1.3).

We’re still not at the top of the atmosphere. Next is the final layer: the exosphere.
This layer is the final frontier of Earth’s atmosphere, and as you can imagine, the
air in this layer is next to nonexistent. It’s thin. Really thin. Its upper limit stretches
out to somewhere between 100,000 and 190,000 kilometers above the surface of
the Earth.
The Lithosphere, Hydrosphere, and Biosphere
So that’s the atmosphere, but what about the area near the surface of the Earth?
Well, this area is best thought of as a series of interconnected spheres. Four of
them.
The first of these, the lithosphere, comprises the rocks, the planet’s mantle, and
crust. Mount Everest, the beaches of the Maldives, and Mauna Kea (the highest
mountain on Earth from base to summit incidentally) are all components of the
lithosphere.
The hydrosphere comprises all the water on or near the Earth’s surface. Ninety-
1 seven percent of all the water on our planet is found in the oceans, with the remain-
ing fresh water found in lakes and the polar regions. But water doesn’t exist in a
static environment. Instead, it changes as it moves through the hydrological cycle
(. Fig. 1.4).

The biosphere comprises all living organisms, most of which are found in a zone
that stretches from 3 meters below ground to about 30 meters above ground. In the
oceans, the majority of aquatic life can be found in a zone that stretches from the
surface to about 200 meters below. Of course, some creatures can happily survive
outside these zones. For example, some species of fish have been found as deep as
8 kilometers, and then there are the extremophiles that can be found in acidic envi-
ronments such as Mono Lake.
Within the biosphere are biomes, which are regions of the Earth that have sim-
ilar climate, animals, and plants. The biomes are divided into terrestrial biomes
(desert, forest, grassland, and tundra) and aquatic biomes (freshwater and aquatic).
Why is understanding all this is important in the context of spaceflight life sup-
port? Well, as we shall see, sustaining life on Earth is achieved thanks to deviously
complex and interrelated processes. It is only by having an appreciation of these
processes that we can even begin to fathom just how difficult it is to replicate them
in the confined environment of a spacecraft. So let’s continue.
Warming the biosphere is the Sun, which also supplies the energy for photosynthe-
sis (more about this in 7 Chap. 8), provides the power for the cycling of matter, and

drives the weather systems. Most of the sunlight that reaches the troposphere is visible
light, and about a third of the solar energy that reaches this layer of the atmosphere
is reflected back to space by clouds and the Earth’s surface. The ability of surfaces to
reflect radiation is referred to as albedo, and it is determined by color and texture. For
example, ice and snow have a high albedo, whereas forests have a low albedo.
.. Fig. 1.4 The water cycle. Credit: NASA

Matter Cycling in the Biosphere
7 1
Matter Cycling in the Biosphere
The next characteristic we must consider is the process by which organisms grow
inside the biosphere: matter cycling. For organisms to live, grow, and reproduce,
nutrients are required. When nutrients are required in large amounts, these nutri-
ents are termed macronutrients, whereas trace elements required by organisms are
termed micronutrients. An example of a micronutrient is iron.
The Oxygen Cycle
Regardless of which nutrient element is required, these elements continuously

cycle from the air, water, and soil to organisms and back to the air, water, and
soil in a process termed a nutrient cycle. These biogeochemical cycles, which
are driven directly by solar energy and gravity, include specialized cycles such
as the oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrologic cycles. For example, the oxygen cycle
(. Fig. 1.5) describes the circulation of oxygen in its various forms in the bio-

sphere. In this cycle, plants and animals use oxygen to respire. In this process
of respiration, oxygen is returned to the atmosphere as carbon dioxide, which
is metabolized by algae (this is covered in more detail in 7 Chap. 8) and plants,

and then converted into carbohydrates during photosynthesis, with oxygen

being the by-product. In our biosphere, the oceans are the biggest generators
of oxygen.
.. Fig. 1.5 The oxygen cycle. Credit: NASA

The Nitrogen Cycle

1
As we know, oxygen is essential to sustain life, but nitrogen, which is the most plentiful
element in Earth’s atmosphere, is also essential to human survival. Yet even though
we’re surrounded by nitrogen, animals and plants cannot utilize nitrogen in its free
form, because they don’t have the enzymes required to convert the nitrogen to a form
that can be used. But through bacteria, free nitrogen can be combined chemically
with other elements to form usable (i.e., more reactive) compounds such as ammonia
and nitrites. This process, which is referred to as nitrogen fixation, forms a key part
of the nitrogen cycle (. Fig. 1.6). Most nitrogen fixation is achieved by certain types

of bacteria and algae. The products of nitrogen fixation include compounds that can
be used by the tissues of algae and plants. So, animals that eat these algae and plants
metabolize these compounds; the by-products, such as urea, are excreted; and then
they are ultimately converted to ammonia and eventually nitrates and nitrites. Finally,
the nitrates and nitrites undergo a conversion to atmospheric nitrogen, thanks to the
action of denitrifying bacteria, and the whole cycle starts again.
.. Fig. 1.6 The nitrogen cycle. Credit: NASA

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9 1
The Carbon Cycle
Another key cycle we must mention is the carbon cycle. As we know, carbon is the
basic building block of carbohydrates, fats, and proteins, but it is also essential to
nucleic acids such as DNA and RNA. The carbon cycle is driven by carbon diox-
ide, which is found in seawater and rock and which comprises about 0.035 percent
of the lower level of the atmosphere. What follows is a brief description of how
this cycle works.
First, carbon is attached to oxygen in the atmosphere and becomes carbon diox-
ide. Then, thanks to photosynthesis, carbon dioxide is extracted from the atmo-
sphere and enters the food chain. Carbon’s first step in the food chain is in plants,
which are eaten by animals. When animals and plants die, the decay brings the
carbon into the ground. There, they become fossil fuels that are burned, resulting
in carbon being released into the atmosphere. Another way by which carbon is
released into the atmosphere is by you breathing. Every time you exhale, you release
carbon dioxide – 1 kilogram of the stuff every day (incidentally, getting rid of car-
bon dioxide is one of the toughest tasks of a spacecraft life support system). The
oceans also play a role in carbon dioxide regulation. Some carbon dioxide remains
in the seawater, but some is removed by marine ecosystems that absorb carbon
dioxide and form carbonate compounds such as calcium carbonate to build shells.
The Phosphorus Cycle
The final cycle we’ll discuss is the phosphorus cycle. Why phosphorus? Well,
this nutrient is not only essential for plants and animals, but it also is a part of
DNA. Phosphorus is released by the gradual breakdown of phosphate rock depos-
its and is dissolved in soil water before being used by plants. Animals get their
phosphorus intake by eating plants, and the cycle comes full circle when the ani-
mals die and the decay products return phosphorus to the soil.
Space Environment
No discussion of the space environment can begin before establishing where space
actually starts. If you asked a USAF pilot back in the 1960s, he (because there
were no female pilots back then) would have told you that 50 miles was the magic
altitude. After all, if pilots reached this altitude, which they often did when flying
the X-15 (. Fig. 1.7), the air force awarded them astronaut wings.

Nowadays, the altitude at which space starts is set at 100 kilometers, which hap-
pens to be 62.21 miles or 328,000 feet in old money. Some of you may remember
way back when in 2004 there was a competition called the X Prize. It called for a
privately developed spacecraft to reach 100 kilometers and repeat the feat within
2 weeks. A spacecraft dubbed SpaceShipOne (SS1) cobbled together by Burt Rutan
and his Scaled Composites team won the competition ($10 million, although the
cost of achieving the win was $25 million, but that’s another story). SS1 morphed
.. Fig. 1.7 X-15. Credit: USAF
into SpaceShipTwo (SS2) under the new ownership of Richard Branson’s Virgin
Galactic, and for more than a decade and a half, this company promised to take
space tourists to space. This is a promise probably destined never to be fulfilled.
Why? Because in the small print (always read the small print – always!) on the
ticket, Virgin Galactic promises to take its passengers to an altitude of at least 50
miles. Close, but no cigar. Anyway, the point is that the altitude of space is some-
what arbitrary, so let’s move on.
Radiation
Once you get into space, there are a number of things that grab your attention.
One of these is the Sun. It’s basically a big yellow ball in the blackness of space
fueled by nuclear fusion. The Sun creates all sorts of problems for astronauts and
life support engineers, one of which is radiation. As far as Suns go, our Sun is
pretty ordinary. Just one small yellow star out of billions in our galaxy. Powered
by aforesaid nuclear fusion, our Sun fuses about 600 million tons of hydrogen
every second. Two by-products of this fusion process include electromagnetic (EM)
radiation and charged particles, and it is these by-products that comprise the radia-
tion that occurs in our Solar System. That light and heat you feel on your face on a
bright summer day is EM, whereas the other fusion by-products are those charged
particles such as protons and electron. Protons are particles that have a positive
charge, whereas electrons have a negative charge.
During fusion, the Sun’s interior generates heat, and this heat is so intense that
a fourth state of matter is created. We’re all familiar with the three states of matter
(solid, liquid, and gas), but if heating of these states continues, molecules eventu-
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11 1
.. Fig. 1.8 A solar particle
event. Credit: NASA
ally begin to break down, and eventually the atoms will form a plasma. Inside
the Sun, this is exactly what happens, but the charged particles that comprise this
plasma are disturbed by the intense magnetic field, and these charged particles
shoot away from the Sun at up to 700 kilometers per second. It is this stream of
charged particles that is termed the solar wind. Every once in a while, areas of
the Sun’s surface become more active than usual, causing the surface to spew out
bursts of these charged particles. These bursts are termed solar particle events
(SPEs) (. Fig. 1.8). These SPEs may last for a few hours or a few days. Either

way, they are violent events that may occasionally reach Earth’s orbit and they can
potentially kill astronauts.
The other type of radiation is galactic cosmic radiation (GCR). GCR origi-
nates outside the solar system and comprises the remnants of exploding stars. This
radiation is comprised of extremely energetic particles such as hydrogen, iron, and
helium. The nuclei of these particles are fully ionized, which means all the elec-
trons have been stripped from the atoms. In turn, this means that these particles
will interact with magnetic fields. But what makes GCRs so devastating is that
these charged particles are zipping along at close to light speed and therefore have
incredible energy. GCR (. Fig. 1.9) is the most dangerous category of radiation

that astronauts and life support engineers have to worry about. How dangerous?
Well, of the radiation that astronauts are exposed to, 99 percent is generated by the
Sun, and 1 percent is GCR, but 99 percent of the damage is caused by that 1 per-
cent. And because this radiation is so damaging, it makes sense to track it, which is
why ISS modules have dosimeters to do this job.
Tissue Weighting
Dosimeters are used to measure the dose of radiation astronauts are exposed to. A
dose is simply the amount of energy deposited in the various body tissues by radia-
tion. But not all tissues are affected by radiation equally, which is why the concept
of relative biological effectiveness (RBE) was developed. Basically, in applying this
concept, each type of radiation has a RBE: the higher the number, the more dam-
aging the radiation. For example, X-rays have an RBE of 1, whereas alpha particles
may have an RBE between 10 and 20, making these particles especially damaging.
.. Fig. 1.9 The origins of

1 galactic cosmic rays. Credit:
NASA
But simply measuring the dose does not tell life support specialists everything they
need to know about how damaging radiation is to the body [1–3]. To do that, a qual-
ity factor is applied. This quality factor is Q, more commonly known as a weighting
factor (WR). WR is a function of linear energy transfer (LET), which is the amount
of energy an ionizing particle of radiation deposits in a material by distance. In other
words, LET is a way of describing the action of radiation as it passes through mat-
ter. How is radiation measured? Well, it depends on the context. Grays are used to
measure the energy absorbed per unit of mass, while roentgens are used to measure
exposure to X-rays. Sieverts (Sv) are used to measure what is termed the equivalent
dose (H), and they are also used to measure the effective dose (E). You may have
come across rads and rems, but these are non-SI units, so we’ll steer clear of these.
So, let’s get back to H and E. First, we’ll talk about H. This simply describes
the absorbed dose required to produce a biological effect, and the magnitude of the
effect will be determined by different types of radiation. To make the accuracy of
the effect of radiation as precise as possible, H is multiplied by WR. By doing this,
the RBE is factored in, which results in a reasonably good estimation of the effects
of radiation on tissues such as organs. But while H provides useful data about radi-
ation dose, it is E that is more accurate when it comes to specifying exposure limits,
and this data is important to ensure astronauts are exposed to radiation within
acceptable levels. The specificity of E lies in the application of specific weighting
factors (. Table 1.1) for each tissue (expressed WT), which allows for an accurate

whole-body dose to be calculated (see Appendices Ia and Ib).

Another radiation source we must mention is the Van Allen belts. These dough-
nut-shaped belts comprise highly energetic charged particles that surround the
Earth. Discovered by James Van Allen in 1958, these radiation belts have been the
focus of intense study over the decades. We know, for example, that the inner belt is
the primary source of radiation for spacecraft that orbit above 500 kilometers alti-
tude. We also know that the belts expand with increased solar activity and that the
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13 1
.. Table 1.1 Tissue weighting factors for organs
Organs Tissue weighting factor
Gonads 0.08
Red bone marrow 0.12
Colon 0.12
Lung 0.12
Stomach 0.12
Breasts 0.12
Bladder 0.04
Liver 0.04
Esophagus 0.04
Thyroid 0.04
Skin 0.01
Brain 0.01
Remainder of the body 0.12
outer belt comprises electron and protons. What isn’t so well understood is what
happens when solar particles strike the belts during a geomagnetic storm. This is
important because solar storms can short-circuit spacecraft and communications
can be disrupted. We also don’t understand exactly how exposure to Van Allen
radiation affects astronauts. That isn’t surprising because only the moon-bound
Apollo astronauts have transited through the belts (the trajectory was designed to
pass through the thinnest parts of the belts).
Gravity
Whenever we see images of astronauts floating (. Fig. 1.10) around the ISS, we

often hear the term zero gravity, but this is a misleading misnomer. A more accu-
rate term is microgravity, which is a condition in which astronauts appear to be in
a state of zero gravity. Why is this so?
As we know, gravity causes objects to pull other objects toward it. Gravity is
what keeps the Moon in orbit around the Earth. But gravity becomes weaker with
distance. The ISS orbits the Earth at an altitude of around 400 kilometers. At
this altitude, Earth’s gravity is approximately 90 percent of what it is on the sur-
face. Let us put this another way. If an astronaut who weighs 70 kilograms on the
Earth’s surface could be magically transported to the ISS, that astronaut would
weigh 63 kilograms. Now you may be wondering how astronauts float inside the
ISS when 90 percent of Earth’s gravity is still affecting the space station [4]. Well,
.. Fig. 1.10 ISS crewmembers floating in the Unity module. Credit: NASA
that’s because the crew are in free fall. In a vacuum (the ISS is not technically in
a vacuum, but we’ll get to that shortly), gravity causes objects – including astro-
nauts – to fall at the same rate. But since they are in space, astronauts are not fall-
ing toward Earth, but around it. The reason the ISS doesn’t fall to Earth is because
it is moving quickly. Really quickly. Around 7.8 kilometers per second! This just
happens to be the right speed to match the curve of the Earth.
So far so good, right? But this microgravity is anything but good for the astro-
nauts. As we shall see later, microgravity causes havoc on human physiology. In just
6 months on board the ISS, astronauts lose between 20 and 25 percent of muscle
mass and more than 6 percent of their bone mass density, and they suffer vision
impairment, intracranial pressure, headaches, fluid shifts, and the list goes on and on.
Space Debris
Space junk isn’t a topic that immediately comes to mind when talking about life
support systems, but protecting astronauts from debris is a serious life support
issue. As for most things space-related, NASA has an acronym for space debris,
MMOD, which stands for micrometeoroids and orbital debris [5, 6]. You may think
the chances of an astronaut getting hit by a piece of space junk are pretty remote,
but the truth is that the low Earth orbit (LEO) environment is clogged with space
debris. With every space mission, bits and pieces are left in space. Right now there
is about 2200 tons of debris floating (. Fig. 1.11) around LEO, and since this junk

is moving at speeds of 7 kilometers per second, getting hit by even a small flake
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15 1
.. Fig. 1.11 Space debris is a serious and evolving hazard. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 1.12 Impact crater

caused by a flake of paint hitting
the windshield of the Shuttle
during STS-7. Credit: NASA
of paint can be a big deal because even such a tiny chunk of material can pack a
punch greater than a bullet. Not convinced? Take a close look at . Fig. 1.12. That
crater in the Space Shuttle window that you can see was caused by a flake of paint.
Just one flake. Of paint! The crater, which measured 0.2 mm in depth and 4 mm in
width, didn’t penetrate the Shuttle, but it brought to light just how common colli-
sions with spacecraft are. Incidentally, the repair job for the incident ran to $50,000.
Crews on board the ISS have also had to deal with their fair share of space junk
1 encounters. In March 2012, newspapers ran the banner Space Junk Forces Station
Astronauts to Take Shelter in Lifeboats when a piece of old Russian satellite was
spotted on a trajectory that appeared uncomfortably close to call. So close that
mission control ordered the crew to seek shelter in the two Soyuz spacecraft, just
in case. The errant piece of space junk eventually zipped by 11 kilometers from
the station, meaning astronauts could breathe a sigh of relief. It was the third time
in 12 years that crews had had to take shelter from a close call with space debris.
NASA and the station partners usually have the astronauts position the station in
an avoidance maneuver when space junk is expected to pass, but the March 2012
incident (which turned out to be a debris remnant of the Russian Cosmos 2251
satellite) caught the agency, and also the US military’s Space Surveillance Network
(SSN), napping. After all, it is the SSN’s job to track the thousands of objects in
LEO.
Vacuum
Space is often portrayed by those in Hollywood as a cold and inhospitable place at

the best of times, and the fact that there is no air is one of the features that has given
rise to all sorts of fallacies portrayed in science fiction films such as Prometheus,
Total Recall, and Outland. In these films, inadvertent exposure to a vacuum will
instantly either freeze you, make your blood boil (Total Recall), make your head
explode (Outland), or all three! So let’s put some of those fallacies to rest.
First: the cold [4, 7, 8]. This is all down to thermodynamics. Temperature is
a function of heat energy in a given amount of matter and space. But space has
no matter. That’s why it’s called space! And according to thermodynamics, heat
transfer cannot happen in space because conduction and convection cannot occur
without matter.
So if you happen to step out of an airlock without a spacesuit (not advisable!),
what would happen? Well, if the spacecraft you just stepped out of was in sunlight,
you would feel warm, whereas if you were shielded from the sun, you would feel
cold. If you happened to be somewhere in deep space where the temperature is a
chilly −270 °C, you still wouldn’t freeze. Not instantly at any rate, because heat
transfer can’t happen as quickly as radiation alone.
So, that’s the first part of the “stepping into a vacuum” experience. Now, what
else can our unfortunate suitless astronaut expect after their sudden decompres-
sion to a vacuum (incidentally, this is termed ebullism in life support parlance)?
First, a reminder about some laws of physics.
We’ll begin with Henry’s Law, which states that “at a constant temperature,
the amount of gas that dissolves in a given volume of liquid is directly propor-
tional to the partial pressure of the gas in equilibrium with that liquid.” Or, in
Space Environment
17 1
other words, “the solubility of gas in a liquid is directly proportional to the partial
pressure of the gas above said liquid.” Why is this law important in the context
of jumping suitless into space? The vapor pressure of water at body temperature
is about 6 percent of atmospheric pressure or about 47 mmHg. Below this pres-
sure, which is a pressure you would find at around 19,000 meters (63,000 feet – a
physiological boundary known as the Armstrong Line), bodily fluids begin to
boil away.
The Armstrong Line has nothing to do with Neil Armstrong. This physiological
boundary was named in honor of Harry George Armstrong (. Fig. 1.13), who

was a major general in the United States Air Force. Armstrong is widely recog-
nized as one of the leading pioneers of aviation medicine, which is why the
Armstrong Line or Armstrong Limit, which is the altitude above which water boils
at human body temperature, was named after him. During his career, Armstrong
served as director of the United States Aeromedical Laboratory, where he applied
his aviation knowledge to protecting aircrew from hypoxia at high altitude.
.. Fig. 1.13 Harry Arm-

strong. Credit: NASA
This last fact is one that can have dire consequences in the event of a pressure suit
1 breach. I was lucky enough to wear a pressure suit during an Armstrong Line test
many years ago. After donning said suit, I was led into a hypobaric chamber, and a
glass of water was placed at eye level opposite my seat. Then I was sealed into the
suit, the entrance hatch to the chamber was locked and the air was sucked out. As
the altimeter began to approach 60,000 feet, the water in the glass began to boil.
By the time the chamber had leveled off at 70,000 feet, the water had practically
boiled away, which is exactly what would have happened to my blood if my suit had
suffered a breach. After a few minutes contemplating my mortality and performing
some confidence tests in the suit, air was pumped back into the chamber to return
it to ground level. A lot of fun!
But let’s get back to our suitless astronaut. Deep inside this hapless astronaut’s
body, water would begin to turn into gas and become water vapor. This process,
which would happen rapidly in the lungs and beneath the skin, would also lead
to bubbles of water vapor forming in venous blood. This latter process would be
so profound that the circulation would effectively be vapor-locked. But the worst
would be yet to come. The precipitous drop in pressure would cause the air in the
lungs to expand rapidly. The best course of action for our astronaut would be to
keep their mouth open to ensure that the air rushed outward. If our astronaut
didn’t do this, then lung rupture would be the consequence. Not that it really
would matter, because with no circulation (it’s vapor-locked remember!) and no
oxygen, our astronaut would only be conscious for about 12 seconds. A similar
fate befell cosmonauts Dobrovolski, Patsayev, and Volkov (. Fig. 1.14) who, in

.. Fig. 1.14 Cosmonauts Dobrovolski, Patsayev, and Volkov. Credit: Roscosmos

Planetary Environments
19 1
1971, died as a result of high altitude decompression when their Soyuz spacecraft
malfunctioned.
For those who regard themselves as science fiction aficionados, you will no doubt
recall Dave Bowman’s predicament in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Bowman, faced with
the problem of entering a spacecraft after being locked out by the malevolent HAL
9000 computer, ejects himself through space into the unpressurized airlock of the
spacecraft. Once inside the airlock, Bowman activates the handle and repressurizes
the airlock. Total time for all events according to my stopwatch: about 12 seconds.
So, if Bowman had had the presence of mind to exhale during decompression and
to keep his mouth open during his exertions, it is probable he could have accom-
plished the feat and lived, since the scenario following the decompression ends with
a pressurized finale. Incidentally, the scene is so accurate that I show it to students
as a demonstration that explosive decompression doesn’t have to be messy.
Now that we have discussed a few characteristics of our planetary environment

and select features of the space environment, it is time to turn our attention to
some local planetary environments. As you may know, there are NASA-funded
plans afoot to return to the Moon (. Fig. 1.15) by the mid-2020s and commercial

(SpaceX) plans to visit Mars before the end of the 2020s. Manned missions further
afield than the Moon or Mars before the 2050s are extremely unlikely, so we’ll
restrict our focus accordingly.
.. Fig. 1.15 A future lunar base. Credit: NASA

The Moon
1
To begin with, the Moon is a lot smaller than the Earth, and its gravity is only one-
sixth of Earth’s gravity. Due to its very low escape velocity, the Moon can’t maintain
a significant atmosphere, which means the surface is exposed directly to a vacuum.
The lack of an atmosphere also means surface temperatures can be extreme. When
in direct sunlight, the temperature can reach 107 °C, and when the Sun sets, the
temperature plummets to −153 °C (. Table 1.2). That’s a major headache for life

support engineers. An even bigger headache is the lunar regolith, a by-product of

heavy meteoroid bombardment over billions of years. This regolith caused havoc
for the Apollo astronauts, who suffered pulmonary problems and significant equip-
ment wear and tear. And then there is the danger posed by those meteoroids.
As if that wasn’t enough, radiation presents yet another hazard. First there is
the solar wind, which is plasma traveling at around 400 kilometers per second. That
plasma is comprised of charged particles such as electrons and protons. Radiation
levels can also be affected by solar flares, which may possess even greater energies
than the solar wind. And then there is GCR which, as we have already learned, are
very high energy particles comprising protons, electrons, positrons, and gamma
rays [9–11].
Since the Moon has neither a magnetic field nor an atmosphere, all those
computer-generated images of future astronauts bouncing around on the surface
of the Moon are fanciful in the extreme. The reality will be astronauts living in
bunkers (take a close look at that habitat being constructed in . Fig. 1.15) shielded

not only from the deadly onslaught of killer radiation but also from the extreme
temperature range and bombardment from meteoroids.
So what about surface operations? Here, moon suits have many disadvantages.
Firstly, they take time to don and doff. Secondly, they have extremely limited duty
cycles when exposed to the corrosive regolith. Thirdly, consumables, recycling sys-
.. Table 1.2 Select properties of the Moon (with Earth as comparison)
Moon Earth
Mean radius 1,737 km 6,378 km

Surface area 37,900,000 km2 510,000,000 km2
Mass 0.0735 × 1024 kg 5.976 × 1024 kg
Mean density 3.34 g/cm3 5.52 g/cm3
Mean surface gravity 162 cm/sec2 980 cm/sec2
Escape velocity 2.38 km/sec 11.2 km/sec
Mean surface temperature day, 107 °C night, −153 °C 15 °C
Temperature extremes 123 °C to −233 °C 56.7 °C to −89.2 °C
Surface pressure 3× 10−15 bar 1 bar
21 1
tems, and operator fatigue are extremely limiting in terms of how long a surface
EVA can last. Fourthly, the length of time to repair and refurbish suits means these
suits can only be used in extreme circumstances. Fifthly, no agency wants their astro-
nauts unnecessarily exposed to the killer trio of radiation exposure, vacuum, and
meteoroid risks. So, the reality will be astronauts tele-operating rovers and other
surface assets from the relative safety of an underground 3-D printed bunker [12].
Mars
Mars is a destination that has been on the drawing board for decades. NASA has
published design reference missions, and there have been myriad commercial ven-
tures, including but not limited to Inspiration Mars, Mars One, and, more recently,
Elon Musk’s Mars Venture. So why have no humans landed on Mars yet?
From a life support perspective, Mars is as much a challenge as the Moon,
although it does have some advantages, one of which is an atmosphere (. Table 1.3).

The Martian atmosphere is about 100 times thinner than Earth’s (about equal to
being 130,000 feet above the surface of the Earth), and it is 95 percent carbon diox-
ide (with the remaining 5 percent comprising nitrogen, argon, oxygen, and carbon
monoxide). Back in the day, Mars had a thicker atmosphere. One theory suggests
that the atmosphere became thinner due to a giant impact that stripped the atmo-
sphere away. Still, some atmosphere is better than no atmosphere. The atmosphere
on Mars is thick enough to support weather but not thick enough to prevent the
mercury from dipping down to −60 °C at the equator and –125 °C near the poles
(it can be as comfortable as 20 °C at the equator at midday).
.. Table 1.3 Select properties of Mars
Planetary data for Mars
Mean distance from Sun 227,943,824 km (1.5 AU)

Martian year (sidereal period of revolution) 686.98 Earth days
Mean orbital velocity 24.1 km/sec
Equatorial radius 3,396.2 km
Surface area 1.44 × 108 km2
Mean surface gravity 371 cm/sec2
Escape velocity 5.03 km/sec
Rotation period (Martian sidereal day) 24 hr 37 min 22.663 sec
Martian mean solar day (sol) 24 hr 39 min 36 sec
Mean surface temperature −63 °C
Typical surface pressure 0.006 bar
Radiation is still a problem, as is dust, which is comprised of oxidized iron

1 dust. But first, the radiation. The Martian surface receives 30 μSv per hour during
solar minimum and about twice that during solar maximum [13, 14]. If astronauts
were to spend 3 hours every 3 days outside their habitat, their exposure would be
about 11 mSv per year. If they shield their habitat with 5 meters of soil, they will
be afforded about the same protection as on Earth. We’ll return to the problem of
designing extraterrestrial life support later, but before we do, we’ll learn a bit more
about human physiology.
Key Terms
55 Deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA)
55 Electromagnetic (EM)
55 Galactic Cosmic Radiation (GCR)
55 International Space Station (ISS)
55 Low Earth Orbit (LEO)
55 Linear Energy Transfer (LET)
55 Micrometeoroids and Orbital Debris (MMOD)
55 Relative Biological Effectiveness (RBE)
55 Ribonucleic acid (RNA)
55 Solar Particle Event (SPE)
55 SpaceShipOne (SS1)
55 SpaceShipTwo (SS2)
55 Space Surveillance Network (SSN)
??Review Questions
1. What is the difference between the lithosphere and the hydrosphere?
2. What is meant by the term biomes?
3. List three primary characteristics of the carbon cycle.
4. What is GCR?
5. What is the difference between LET and RBE?
6. Explain the significance of the Armstrong Line in the context of human physiology.
7. List three primary characteristics of the phosphorus cycle.
8. List the six layers of the atmosphere.
References
1. Cucinotta, F. A., Chappell, L., & Kim, M. Y. (2013). Space radiation cancer risk projections and
uncertainties–2012 (NASA Technical Paper 2013-217375, NASA STI Program, Hampton).
2. National Aeronautics and Space Administration. Space Radiation Analysis Group, Johnson
Space Center. Washington, DC: The Administration; 2008.
3. National Council on Radiation Protection and Measurements. (2000). Radiation protection guid-
ance for activities in low-earth orbit. Bethesda: The Council. Report no. 132. ISBN 0-929600-65-7.
References
23 1
4. DeLombard, R., Hrovat, K., Kelly, E., et al. (2004). Microgravity environment on the Interna-
tional Space Station. Washington, DC: National Aeronautics and Space Administration. Report
no. NASA/TM—2004-213039.
5. Rodriguez, H. M., & Liou, J. C. (2008). Orbital debris: Past, present, and future. In: Proceed-
ings of American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics (AIAA) Annual Technical Symposium,
2008 May 9. Houston, Webster: American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics.
6. Soares, C., Mikatarian, R., Schmidl, R., et al. Natural and induced space environments effects on
the International Space Station. In: Proceedings of the 56th International Astronautical Congress,
2005 October 17–21. Fukuoka, Japan. IAC-05-B4.2.07.
7. Eckart, P. (1999). Space flight life support and Biospherics. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publish-
ers/Torrance: Microcosm Inc.
8. Nicogossian, E. A., Huntoon, C. L., & Pool, S. L. (Eds.). (1994). Space physiology and medicine
(pp. 167–193). Philadelphia: Lea and Febiger.
9. National Council on Radiation Protection and Measurements. (1989). Guidance on radiation
received in space activities. Bethesda: The Council. Report no. 98. ISBN 0-929600-04-5.
10. NCRP Report No. 98: Guidance on radiation received in space activities. (1989, July 31).
Bethesda: National Council on Radiation Protection and Measurements.
11. Silberberg, R., Tsao, C. H., Adams, J. H., Jr., & Letaw, J. R. (1985). Radiation transport of
cosmic ray nuclei in lunar material and radiation doses. In W. W. Mendell (Ed.), Lunar bases and
space activities of the 21st century (pp. 663–669). Houston: Lunar & Planetary Inst.
12. Land, P. (1985). Lunar base design. In W. W. Mendell (Ed.), Lunar bases and space activities of
the 21st century (pp. 363–373). Houston: Lunar & Planetary Inst.
13. Newman, D. J. (2000). Life in extreme environments: How will humans perform on Mars? Gravi-
tational and Space Biology Bulletin, 13, 35–47.
14. Zeitlin, C., Hassler, D. M., Cucinotta, F. A., Ehresmann, B., Wimmer-Schweingruber, R. F.,
Brinza, D. E., Kang, S., Weigle, G., Böttcher, S., Böhm, E., Burmeister, S., Guo, J., Köhler, J.,
Martin, C., Posner, A., Rafkin, S., & Reitz, G. (31, May 2013). Measurements of energetic par-
ticle radiation in transit to Mars on the Mars. Science Laboratory Science, 340(6136), 1080–1084.
Suggested Reading
Finckenor, M., & de Groh, K. (2015). Space environmental effects. A mini-book published by
NASA. Just 40 pages and available online at: https://www.nasa.gov/sites/default/files/files/NP-
2015-03-015-JSC_Space_Environment-ISS-Mini-Book-2015-508.pdf
Thirsk, R., Kuipers, A., Mukai, C., & Williams, D. (2009, June 9). The space-flight environment: The
International Space Station and beyond. CMAJ: Canadian Medical Association Journal, 180(12),
1216–1220. https://doi.org/10.1503/cmaj.081125. Epub 2009 Jun 1. A good reference written by
astronauts.
25 2
Space Physiology
and Psychology
Credit: Jim Wilkie

Contents
Introduction – 28
Bone Loss – 29
one Loss in Spaceflight – 29
B
Countermeasures to Bone Loss – 31
Muscle Loss – 32
uscle Physiology – 32
M
Muscle Atrophy in Space – 34
Neurovestibular Effects – 35
Space Motion Sickness – 35
Vision Impairment – 36
T heories – 38
Case Studies – 38
Intracranial Pressure – 41
Cerebrospinal Fluid – 41
Optic Nerve Sheath Diameter – 42
Posterior Globe Flattening – 42
Microstructural Anatomical Differences – 43
Cardiovascular System – 43
F luid Shift – 43
Diuresis – 44
Nutritional Issues – 45
S pace Food System – 45
Nutritional Countermeasures – 47
Psychosocial Support – 48
rew Selection – 49
C
Astronauts with the Wrong Stuff – 51
Confinement – 53
Salutogenesis – 56
Immune System – 58
Radiation – 59
alactic Cosmic Rays – 59
G
Measuring Galactic Cosmic Rays – 59
Solar Particle Events – 60
Measuring Solar Particle Radiation – 61
Radiation Dose on Board the International Space
Station – 61
Radiation and Crew Health – 63
Intravehicular Radiation – 64
Biomedical Consequences of Exposure
to Space Radiation – 64
Central Nervous System Effects – 65
Behavioral Studies of CNS Risks – 67
Altered Neurogenesis – 67
Oxidative Damage – 68
Alzheimer’s Disease – 68
Radiation-Induced Bone Loss – 69
References – 71
28 Chapter 2 · Space Physiology and Psychology
After reading this chapter, you should be able to:
55 Describe the mechanism of bone loss in astronauts
2 55 Describe the role of the osteoclasts and osteoblasts
55 Explain what is meant by the term bone remodeling
55 State the rate of loss of bone mass density in astronauts during long-duration
missions
55 List and describe the efficacy of two countermeasures to bone loss
55 List the three types of muscle
55 Explain the mechanism of muscle atrophy in astronauts, and explain to what
degree muscle atrophy correlates with loss of muscle contraction
55 Describe the sliding filament theory in the context of muscle atrophy and exercise
55 Explain why some astronauts suffer from space motion sickness
55 Describe the function of the semicircular canals and the otolith organ
55 Describe the theory of vision impairment intracranial pressure (VIIP)
55 Explain what is meant by intracranial pressure (ICP) in the context of VIIP
55 Explain what is meant by posterior globe flattening
55 Describe the mechanism of fluid shift when astronauts arrive on orbit
55 Explain what is meant by the term diuresis
55 Describe three key characteristics of the space food system
55 Explain what is meant by the terms overview effect, asthenia, and salutogenesis
55 List five “select-in” psychosocial characteristics for long-duration missions
55 Describe the difference between galactic cosmic radiation (GCR) and solar par-
ticle events (SPE)
55 Describe the effects of long-duration exposure to radiation on astronaut health
55 Describe the effects of radiation on the central nervous system
55 Explain what is meant by the term altered neurogenesis
55 Describe the mechanism of radiation-induced oxidative damage
55 Explain what is meant by the term osteoradionecrosis
Introduction
No textbook about spaceflight life support systems can be written without a basic
overview of physiology. After all, the life support system is what keeps astronauts
alive. To fully understand the intricacies of these engineering systems, it is neces-
sary to first understand the physiological systems. To that end, 7 Chap. 2 delves

into basic physiology, with some psychology thrown in. One aspect of physiology
emphasized in this chapter is that we humans can only operate within very, very
narrow environmental parameters. For example, a partial pressure that is too high
or too low can cause all sorts of problems. This human limitation represents a big
challenge for life support system engineers. Another aspect highlighted is the adap-
tive timeline across physiological systems. Some systems, such as the fluid system,
adapt to microgravity after 4–6 weeks, but other systems, such as the skeletal sys-
tem, have no clinical horizon, so this is a good place to start.
Bone Loss
29 2
Bone Loss
Bone plays several important roles. First, it serves as a structure that supports
the body. Second, it stores calcium. Third, it produces blood. Bone is also very
dynamic. This is because of a process known as bone remodeling [1, 2]. This pro-
cess relies on the activity of two very important bone cells: osteoblasts, which build
up bone, and osteoclasts, which break down bone (bone resorption). On Earth,
your skeleton undergoes a tremendous amount of loading. Those of you who wear
Fitbits will know that you take between 8000 and 10000 steps every day just per-
forming daily activities. That loading is detected by your brain and signals those
osteoblasts and osteoclasts to go to work (. Fig. 2.1).
Bone Loss in Spaceflight
The result of this process is a healthy skeleton that is fracture-resistant. But in

space, almost all that loading is removed. Your brain detects that reduction in load
and adapts accordingly. Less load means that strong bones are no longer needed, so
the process of bone remodeling changes. The action of the osteoblasts is decreased
and the action of the osteoclasts is increased. The result is a reduction in bone mass
density of between 1.0 and 1.2 percent – every month. That is ten times the rate at
which osteoporosis patients lose bone.
This is catastrophic (. Fig. 2.2). Losing that amount of bone mass density

increases fracture risk two to three times. Further, the body not only alters the
responses of the osteoblasts and osteoclasts, but it also alters the body’s calcium
balance. Calcium is a key bone-building material. But in microgravity, it is not nec-
essary to have strong bones, so the body decides to get rid of calcium to the tune
of ~250mg per day [2, 3]. Not only does calcium excretion result in weaker bones,
.. Fig. 2.1 The action of the osteoblasts and osteoclasts. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 2.2 Osteoporosis. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 2.3 Nick Hague, Russian cosmonaut Alexey Ovchinin, and United Arab Emirates astro-
naut Hazzaa Ali Almansoori relaxing after their increment on board the International Space Station
(ISS). Credit: NASA
but it also increases the risk of kidney stones, because that calcium has to be routed
through the kidneys before being excreted [4, 5, 6, 7]. The worst is still to come.
Take a look at . Fig. 2.3. That is a photo of NASA astronaut Nick Hague,

Russian cosmonaut Alexey Ovchinin, and United Arab Emirates astronaut Hazzaa
Bone Loss
31 2
Ali Almansoori. They have just returned from an ISS increment lasting several
months. Notice anything particular in this image (apart from the fact they’re on
their cellphones)? They are horizontal. Why? Because their bones (and muscles) are
very weak after having spent so long in space. And those people milling around the
crew? Some of them are flight surgeons entrusted with the care of the crew. Shortly
after landing, the crew are whisked away to their respective agencies and embark
on a dedicated and personalized rehabilitation program to regain lost muscle and
bone. After about 90 days, most astronauts have recovered their muscle. But bone
is another story. There have been some astronauts who, 10 years following their
6-month increment on the ISS, did not completely recover their bone loss. Some
astronauts recover their bone mass relatively quickly (3–4 years), while other astro-
nauts take longer.
Another aspect of this bone loss is bone mass density and architecture. Take
another look at . Fig. 2.2. You see those rod-shaped structures? Those help the

architecture of the bone. The better the arrangement of those rods and plates, the
better your architecture and – theoretically – the stronger your bones. But another
element that has a bearing on bone strength is bone density. You can have fantastic
bone architecture, but if your bone density is low, then your bones will be weak
and vice versa. The ideal scenario is to have both good bone density and good bone
architecture.
In space, the body remodels bone in response to the load demands on the bone.
Since those load demands are low, bone density is reduced, and those rods and
plates are arranged to deal with the loads in microgravity. This leads to weaker
bone architecture. In low Earth orbit (LEO), the effect is manageable, thanks to the
limited time (only 6 months give or take) in orbit and thanks to the personalized
rehab programs waiting for astronauts when they return to Earth. But a Mars mis-
sion will require astronauts to spend the best part of 12 months in deep space, plus
a surface stay in a reduced gravity (0.38 of Earth’s gravity) environment. Imagine
a crewmember suffering a femoral fracture. How would the crew cope? Could they
cope?
Take a look at . Fig. 2.4. The image depicted in . Fig. 2.4 is one way of deal-

ing with a femoral fracture. The technique is known as external fixation. Imagine
all the challenges of dealing with this in a reduced gravity environment! Bleeding,
infection, reinfection, sepsis, 24/7 care, etc. So what can we do?
Countermeasures to Bone Loss
Countermeasures to bone loss include treadmill running and using the Advanced
Resistive Exercise Device (ARED), which is depicted in . Figs. 2.5 (a) and 2.5 (b).

As you can see in . Figs. 2.5 (a) and (b), the ARED is a versatile exercise

device, and as we shall see in 7 Chap. 7, the device does a good job at mitigating

the effects of bone loss [8, 9]. But even astronauts who exercise religiously still
suffer 1.0–1.2 percent bone loss per month. Some solutions are also discussed in
7 Chap. 7.

.. Fig. 2.4 External fixation. Imagine a crew having to deal with this situation on the surface of
Mars. Credit: The Free Dictionary
Muscle Loss
Muscle Physiology
There are three types of muscle in the body. Smooth muscle, also categorized as
involuntary muscle, is found in organs and organ structures. Cardiac muscle, which
is also involuntary muscle, is found only in the heart. Skeletal muscle, which is also
categorized as voluntary muscle, is used for movement.
You have about 640 skeletal muscles in your body. These are anchored to bone
by tendons. Also known as striated muscle due to its appearance under the micro-
scope, skeletal muscle (. Fig. 2.6) helps support the body, assists in bone move-

ment, and protects internal organs. It is divided into various subtypes. Type I, also
known as slow twitch (red), is dense with capillaries, which means these muscles can
carry a lot of oxygen and sustain lengthy periods of aerobic activity. Type II, also
known as fast twitch, can sustain short bursts of activity.
Muscle Loss
33 2
a b
.. Fig. 2.5 a Schematic of the ARED system. Credit: NASA. b Japan Aerospace Exploration
Agency astronaut Koichi Wakata, Expedition 38 flight engineer, works out on the Advanced Resis-
tive Exercise Device (ARED) in the Tranquility node of the ISS. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 2.6 Skeletal muscle structure. Credit: National Cancer Institute

.. Fig. 2.7 The sliding filament theory. Credit: Richfield, David (2014). “Medical gallery of David
Richfield.” WikiJournal of Medicine 1 (2). DOI:10.15347/wjm/2014.009. ISSN 2002-4436. /CC BY-SA
Now some basic exercise physiology. Despite what you may hear in the gym,
fat cannot be turned into fat, and fat cannot be turned into muscle. Impossible!
Second, the number of muscle fibers cannot be increased no matter how hard
you exercise. So, how do muscles get bigger? The muscle cells get bigger in a pro-
cess known as hypertrophy. This is the opposite of atrophy, which is the term that
describes the wasting away of muscles. In skeletal muscle, movement is achieved
by contraction stimulated by nerve impulses at a site known as the neuromuscular
junction. Energy for muscle movement is found in the form of glycogen, which is
stored in the muscles and in the liver. When exercising, the muscles contract by
actin and myosin filaments sliding over one another, a mechanism known as the
sliding filament theory (. Fig. 2.7).

Muscle Atrophy in Space
On Earth, muscle tone is maintained by means of exercise. Even sedentary people

will take 8000 to 10,000 steps every day, which is usually sufficient exercise to
maintain some muscle tone. But in space, muscles don’t get used nearly as much
as on Earth. The result is that muscles begin to atrophy at a rapid rate. In just
6 months, astronauts will lose about 25 percent of their total muscle mass [8, 9].
Neurovestibular Effects
35 2
But this loss is not evenly distributed. A larger proportion of muscle loss is in the
load-bearing muscles (your big leg muscles) and the balance muscles (e.g., those
muscle groups that support your spine). As astronauts spend more and more
time in space, their muscle cells shrink and become smaller. And as those muscles
become smaller, they become weaker, which means astronauts cannot exert as
much force.
Think operationally. Think of all those images and videos we’ve been bom-
barded with of astronauts going about their business bouncing around on the
surface of Mars – astronauts building outposts and exploring the surface during
lengthy EVAs. Do you really think they will be able to do these tasks in such a
deconditioned state? Don’t forget that these astronauts have lost a quarter of their
muscle mass, which includes their cardiac muscle mass. This means the heart is
much less efficient, leading to significantly reduced exercise capacity [10]. And as
mission time increases, this will only get worse. So again, what can be done? Once
again, countermeasures. Treadmill running and using the ARED help [8, 9]; we’ll
discuss these more in 7 Chap. 7.

Neurovestibular Effects
Your vestibular system (. Fig. 2.8) provides information about motion, head posi-

tion, and spatial orientation, and it is located in the inner ear. It comprises several
structures that help you balance and maintain equilibrium and posture. The semi-
circular canals are arranged at right angles to one another and provide informa-
tion about angular acceleration (pitch, roll, and yaw). The otolith organs provide
information about linear acceleration. Another key element in the neurovestibular
system is the hair cell (stereocilia). These hair cells are embedded in a gelatinous
structure (called the cupula). When you move your head, these hair cells move/
shift, and information is carried from the hair cells to the brain (brainstem and
cerebellum), which interprets the movement accordingly.
Space Motion Sickness
Disruption to the neurovestibular system, which may occur when exposed to micro-
gravity, can cause symptoms such as nausea, vertigo, loss of balance, and vomiting
[11]. The microgravity environment may not only be disruptive to the neurovestibu-
lar system but may also affect the visual system. Why? For years, we accumulate
sensory information via our neurovestibular system and our visual system, and all
this information is stored in a repository for sensory information. When something
conflicts with that repository of information, motion sickness may be the result. In
fact, 60 percent of first-time astronauts suffer from space motion sickness (SMS).
Take look at . Fig. 2.9. It shows NASA astronauts Ron Garan and Cady

Coleman, ESA astronaut Paolo Nespoli, and Russian cosmonaut Alexander

Samokutyaev of Expedition 27 posing in the Harmony node of the ISS. Imagine
seeing this when you arrive on orbit! Fortunately, as you can see in . Fig. 2.10,

.. Fig. 2.8 Structure of the inner ear. Credit: Blausen.com staff (2014). “Medical gallery of Blausen
Medical 2014.” WikiJournal of Medicine 1 (2). DOI:10.15347/wjm/2014.010. ISSN 2002-4436. /CC
BY-SA
the neurovestibular system adapts very quickly. It takes no longer 72 hours for this
system to adapt.
Astronauts can take anti-motion sickness medication such as promethazine,
although this doesn’t always help. Autogenic feedback training is also helpful, but
ultimately predicting who will be sick and who won’t has been a mystery for as long
as there have been astronauts.
Vision Impairment
By now we know that astronauts’ bodies suffer in microgravity. Without effective

countermeasures, muscles atrophy, bones shed calcium, and astronauts get sick.
Eyesight may also be affected. We’ve known about vision impairment in astronauts
Vision Impairment
37 2
.. Fig. 2.9 Ron Garan, Cady Coleman, ESA astronaut Paolo Nespoli, and Russian cosmonaut
Alexander Samokutyaev of Expedition 27 posing in the Harmony node of the ISS. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 2.10 Timeline of adaptation for physiological systems. Credit: NASA

for some time, but the problem has only been put under the spotlight recently after
some astronauts experienced severe eyesight deficiencies [12, 13]. Thanks to anec-
dotal reports by astronauts and a comparison of preflight and postflight ocular
2 measures, microgravity-induced visual acuity impairments have now been recog-
nized as a significant risk (you can read more about this in Springer’s Microgravity
and Vision Impairments in Astronauts written by yours truly). And this problem
doesn’t affect a minority of crewmembers: retrospective analysis of medical
records has revealed that 29 percent of 300 Shuttle astronauts and 60 percent of
space station astronauts have suffered some form of visual degradation [14]. That’s
a serious problem for an agency planning on sending astronauts back to the Moon
and eventually Mars.
Theories
The problem has its own acronym – this is NASA, after all – and is referred to as
the visual impairment intracranial pressure (VIIP) syndrome. Even though VIIP
has only recently been identified, there has been significant research performed, so
scientists are beginning to better understand the syndrome. The data shows that
astronauts who suffer VIIP-related symptoms experience varying degrees of visual
performance decrements. Some suffer cotton wool spot formation, while others
may present with edema of the optic disc (. Fig. 2.11) [15, 16]. Other astronauts

may suffer flattening of the posterior globe, while some may present with disten-
sion of the optic nerve sheath [15]. In short, there is a profusion of signs and
symptoms, but the reason for the vision impairment still has researchers a little
flummoxed.
One theory suggests that the changes in ocular structure and impairment to the
optic nerve are caused by the cephalothoracic fluid shift that astronauts experi-
ence while on board the ISS [17, 18, 19]. It is theorized that some astronauts are
more sensitive to fluid shift due to genetic and anatomical factors. In the course
of conducting studies on the VIIP syndrome, researchers have focused on three
systems: ocular, cardiovascular, and central nervous. These studies have revealed a
variety of symptoms other than visual decrements, including increased intracranial
pressure (ICP) and changes in cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) pressure [20]. But because
preflight, inflight, and postflight data are relatively thin on the ground, it is very
difficult to define why and how these symptoms occur. Inevitably, since the impact
of VIIP is an operational concern, space agencies have increased preflight, inflight,
and postflight monitoring of the syndrome to better characterize the syndrome
and the risks.
Case Studies
To date, more than a dozen astronauts have suffered VIIP symptoms [13]. Some of
these symptoms have persisted postflight and some haven’t. Some astronauts expe-
rience quite severe symptoms, and for others, it is just a mild inconvenience. Very
Vision Impairment
39 2
.. Fig. 2.11 Cotton wool spots. Credit: NASA
little is known about the etiology of symptoms, but researchers believe the afore-
mentioned microgravity-induced cephalothoracic fluid shift and associated physi-
ological changes may be implicated. To better investigate the syndrome, NASA’s
Human Health and Performance Directorate brought together a VIIP project team
in 2011 to investigate the problem using data compilation, analysis, and multidis-
cipline, cross-cutting collaboration. To give you an idea of the complexity of the
issue facing the VIIP project team, the following is a brief account of three cases
of the perplexing syndrome:
Case #1. This case occurred 3 months into an ISS mission when a crewmember
informed the ground he was only able to see the Earth clearly if he used his reading
glasses. For the remainder of his mission, there was no improvement in his condition
but neither did the symptoms get worse. After his return to Earth, the astronaut
noticed a gradual improvement in his vision, but his vision didn’t return completely.
The astronaut was subjected to fluorescein angiography, which revealed choroidal
folds. This astronaut was also subjected to magnetic resonance angiography (MRA)
and magnetic resonance venogram (MRV) tests, but these were normal [13]. A more
sensitive test using optical coherence tomography (OCT) was also performed. OCT
2 is a noninvasive test that uses light waves to take images of the retina. The results
showed increased thickening of the astronaut’s retinal nerve fiber layer (NFL). It was
one more variable in the VIIP puzzle.
Case #2. This astronaut noticed his vision altering after 2 months on orbit. His
symptoms included a reduction in the near vision of his right eye and scotoma in
his right temporal field. The scotoma affected the crewmember to the extent that he
was unable to read 12-point font, which is close to what you’re reading now. What
was strange was that everything about this astronaut was normal: he didn’t complain
of any symptoms – headache, diplopia – that might normally be associated with
such vision impairment [13]. Also, the environment on board the ISS was well within
nominal margins during his stay – no excess carbon dioxide concentration (carbon
dioxide levels are much higher on the ISS, and some scientists think this may cause
VIIP) or toxic fumes. Furthermore, his preflight and postflight (correctable) visual
acuity were the same, although fundoscopic examination revealed choroidal folds in
the astronaut’s right eye.
Case #3. This ISS astronaut’s vision was affected so badly that his glasses had to
be adjusted to enable him to read procedures [13]. By this time, NASA decided it is
prudent to perform inflight ocular ultrasound exams to observe changes in the ocular
health of its crew. To that end, this astronaut was subjected to ultrasound examina-
tions, which revealed flattening of the posterior globe and dilated optic nerve sheaths.
This case occurred way back in the day when the Shuttle was flying, so mission man-
agers decided to fly a video ophthalmoscope, which also allowed remotely guided
fundoscopic exams to be performed. Once the examinations had been performed,
the images were sent to neuro-ophthalmological consultants, who decided that no
treatment was required but suggested that fundoscopic and visual acuity exams be
conducted once a month for the remainder of the mission. The examinations served
a dual purpose: they provided neuro-ophthalmologists with a baseline to compare
against other vision issues, and they served as a means of monitoring the ocular
health of the crewmembers. Case #3 continued to be examined following his flight.
30 days postflight, another MRI was performed and revealed significantly dilated
optic nerve sheaths, flattening of the posterior globe and thickened optic nerves
[13]. At this stage, the crewmember was still affected by the same vision impairment
he had experienced on orbit. Another examination, a lumbar puncture, performed
57 days postflight revealed normal CSF pressure. The astronaut, who became aware
of visual changes 3 weeks into his mission, reported that his vision had remained
static for the remainder of his stay on board the ISS [13]. He hadn’t complained of
headaches, visual obscurations, or diplopia, and yet several weeks postflight, he was
still suffering vision impairment. More tests were conducted, including cycloplegic
refraction and fundus photos, but these were all normal: no sign of choroidal folds
or disc edema. Nothing.
Vision Impairment
41 2
Many cases of VIIP have shared the common signs of disc edema, posterior
globe flattening, choroidal folds, and hyperopic shift. These signs closely align with
those reported by terrestrial patients suffering from increased intracranial hyper-
tension (Appendix II). These cases also shared other similarities, including optic
nerve sheath distension and posterior globe flattening. These observations were
revealed by MRIs performed post-mission. Despite myriad tests (summarized in
Appendix II) and scans, a definitive etiology for the findings in the affected astro-
nauts remained elusive. It was suggested that venous congestion in the eye, caused
by cephalothoracic fluid shift, could have been responsible for elevated choroidal
volume changes [18]. Given the commonality of that sign, it was also suggested
that this could be a unifying mechanism.
Intracranial Pressure
The reason researchers were interested in examining those who suffered from
intracranial hypertension was because the ophthalmic changes these terres-
trial patients reported were so similar to those reported by astronauts [21, 22].
Researchers reasoned that the increased intracranial pressure (ICP) suffered by
terrestrial patients might somehow explain the visual changes observed in astro-
nauts. It was a good hypothesis, but slightly flawed. While ICP is reported by
those suffering from intracranial hypertension and by astronauts suffering from
VIIP, the mechanism of ICP is not the same in both groups. Those complaining
of ICP here on Earth typically report much more severe symptoms than those
on board the ISS. In addition to the pain of headaches, terrestrial ICP sufferers
report cognition impairments and nausea and vomiting. At this point, it is worth
emphasizing the numbers of patients we’re dealing with: the terrestrial ICP prob-
lem has been observed in thousands and thousands of patients, whereas the VIIP
syndrome has been reported in only a dozen or so astronauts. So, given the few
“patients” on orbit, it’s difficult to make correlations between terrestrial ICP and
its space-based equivalent.
Cerebrospinal Fluid
Another complicating factor is that of the very, very small number of astronauts
who have been studied; only a handful who reported ICP have had ICP measure-
ments taken preflight and postflight. ICP measurements are usually taken by per-
forming a lumbar puncture (sometimes referred to as a spinal tap). This procedure
involves inserting a needle between two lumbar vertebrae to remove cerebrospi-
nal fluid (CSF). When this procedure was performed postflight on astronauts who
had reported VIIP symptoms, their CSF pressure was only mild to moderately
above normal pressure. While this didn’t significantly strengthen the hypothesis of
increased ICP in flight, it did go some way to helping researchers understand the
mechanisms implicated in the syndrome.
Optic Nerve Sheath Diameter
Another observation that bolstered the ICP hypothesis was measurements per-
2 formed on astronaut’s optic nerve sheath diameter (ONSD) and optical diame-
ters (OD). These ultrasound postflight measurements revealed a distension of the
ONSD, and since this is an indication of intracranial hypertension, the hypothesis
of ICP being a symptom of VIIP gained some more traction [19, 21]. But only
some. The findings were inconclusive [20], since postflight images were taken a long
time after landing, in some cases months or years. Another drawback to what had
seemed promising evidence of the ICP link was the fact there was no control group
to compare the ONSD measurements with. At the time, there was a lot of talk
about the VIIP problem being similar to intracranial hypertension, which caused
some confusion as to the exact nature of the syndrome. In particular, the term
papilledema was sometimes used to refer to the swelling of the optic disc observed
in those reporting VIIP symptoms. But papilledema is simply the swelling of the
optic disc caused by an increase in ICP, whereas in space the optic disc swelling
could have been caused by ONSD or other effects (damage perhaps) on the optic
nerve head.
The ONSD link supported the rationale for studying intracranial hyper-
tension and its usefulness in understanding VIIP. However, it should be noted
that while intracranial hypertension is well-characterized, the causes are poorly
understood. The same is true for VIIP. For example, visual changes are not
reported by all crewmembers who report VIIP symptoms, and in some crew-
members, these symptoms can be quite pronounced, whereas in others the symp-
toms may barely register. The point is that there seems to be little rhyme or
reason or pattern to the symptoms. Part of the reason for this is the fact that so
few crewmembers have been evaluated. To give you an idea of just how confusing
the symptom pattern is, consider the case of one crewmember who reported no
symptoms during or after his flight but whose postflight examination revealed
the worst case of optic disc edema ever observed! This crewmember not only had
Grade 3 edema in his right optic disc and Grade 1 in his left but also had a small
hemorrhage inferior to the optic disc of his right eye, nerve fiber thickening,
and increased CSF pressure! Having said that, this crewmember had no signs of
choroidal folds or globe flattening. It was a head-scratching case that left many
researchers puzzled.
Posterior Globe Flattening
Back to the ICP issue. Another confounding variable in the link between intracra-
nial hypertension, ICP and VIIP, is the symptom of posterior globe flattening. On
Earth, posterior globe flattening can be induced by ICP, but after treatment for
intracranial hypertension, no one knows if globe flattening persists because there
just haven’t been any studies to follow up on the issue. This means that no one
knows if pressure behind the optic disc results in permanent posterior globe flat-
tening. It’s just another hole of knowledge in the VIIP syndrome.
Cardiovascular System
43 2
Microstructural Anatomical Differences
Perhaps ICP, and therefore VIIP, is a function of anatomical differences? After

all, there are several structures in the eye that are affected by pressure, and dif-
ferences in the morphology of these could result in some crewmembers suffering
more symptoms than others. Let us take the lamina cribrosa sclera as an example.
This structure is located between the optic nerve and the intraocular space, and it
serves as a pressure barrier between that space and the retrobulbar CSF space that
surrounds the retrobulbar part of the optic nerve [20].
On Earth, under normal conditions, the lamina cribrosa bulges slightly out-
ward in the direction of the optic nerve. This is because intraocular pressure (IOP),
which is 15 mmHg, is higher than intracranial pressure, which is 10 mmHg. But
if these pressures are changed in any way, the lamina cribrosa will respond in a
way that may affect vision. For example, if the structure is displaced excessively,
the lamina cribrosa can squeeze adjacent nerve fibers, causing nerve damage and
vision loss. This is essentially what happens in people with glaucoma. But this
mechanism doesn’t affect everyone equally. That’s because a person’s anatomy can
make them more or less susceptible to syndromes and ailments. So if you happen
to be an astronaut whose tissue elasticity is greater than most, chances are you
may be less affected by pressure changes exerted on your lamina cribrosa. That’s
because the more elastic a tissue is, the lower the chances are that a significant
pressure chance will have a damaging effect on the sensitive tissues in the eye and
the brain. Equally, those who had an unfortunate genetic roll of the dice and who
have less elastic tissues are probably at greater risk of ICP-induced visual changes.
Remember that crewmember who reported no symptoms inflight but who was
diagnosed with Grade 3 edema on his return? He probably experienced increased
ICP, but because his vessels and tissues were more compliant than most, he didn’t
suffer any visual deficits.
Cardiovascular System
When considering the cardiovascular system and how it adapts to microgravity,

this system, like so many physiological systems, remains poorly understood. The
adaptive process is complex and involves many control mechanisms, such as the
autonomic nervous system, cardiac functions, and peripheral vasculature.
Fluid Shift
The primary cause of and trigger for these adaptive processes is the headward fluid
shift and redistribution of body fluids that occur in every astronaut on arrival on
orbit (. Fig. 2.12). The body has about 5 liters of blood in addition to other body

fluids, such as interstitial fluid, found between the organs, and CSF, found in the
spinal cord. When astronauts arrive on orbit, between 1.5 and 2.0 liters of this
fluid moves from the lower extremities to the chest and head [22]. Not surprisingly,
.. Fig. 2.12 Fluid shift in microgravity. Credit: NASA
this causes various signs and symptoms, including facial puffiness, “bird-leg” syn-
drome, pounding headaches, and those vision problems mentioned earlier.
Diuresis
Remember the body will always try to adapt to the environment. This fluid shift
triggers a series of adaptive processes. Inside your body, you have all sorts of sen-
sors and receptors that send the brain information about temperature, electrolyte
balance, and pressure. The pressure receptors are termed baroreceptors, and as
Nutritional Issues
45 2
long as fluid is maintained within certain thresholds, no action has to be taken.
But when up to 2 liters of fluid is translocated from the lower to the upper body,
this causes a spike in pressures that exceed thresholds. The baroreceptors send this
information to the brain, and the brain decides that something must be done.
That something is to reduce pressure by getting rid of the excess fluid. This is
done by triggering suppression of the renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system, which
releases atrial natriuretic peptide, which ultimately results in diuresis, a physiologi-
cal term meaning you have to visit the washroom frequently to urinate [22, 23, 24,
25]. Unfortunately, all this urination has a side effect of reducing plasma volume.
About 55 percent of your blood is plasma and about 90 percent of your plasma is
water. So, if you’re urinating frequently, you are losing body water and hence blood
volume. In fact, in the first 24 hours on orbit, astronauts lose 17 percent of their
plasma volume, which equates to an overall reduction of about 10 percent of total
blood volume [26, 27, 28, 29]. The body does its best to adapt, which takes about 6
weeks, although this adaptation is to microgravity, not one-G. On return to Earth,
guess what happens? All that fluid that was in the upper body rushes to the lower
body, causing orthostatic intolerance (inability to stand upright). Twenty-five per-
cent of astronauts returning from space cannot stand upright for 10 minutes within
hours of landing because of orthostatic intolerance. This is one of the reasons why
NASA prohibits astronauts from driving 3 weeks postflight.
Nutritional Issues
Maintaining adequate nutritional intake during long stints on the ISS is important
because astronauts must not only meet the usual terrestrial nutrient requirements
but must also try to stave off the negative effects of being exposed to microgravity
for so long. Also, as history has taught us, the success or failure of exploration mis-
sions (. Fig. 2.13) has generally been determined by the degree to which nutrition

was considered. Scurvy, anyone?

Although Shackleton, pictured in Ocean Camp next to Frank Wild in . Fig. 2.13,

largely avoided scurvy, this nutrient deficiency led to more crewmember deaths in the
Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration than all other causes of their death combined.
Arguably, nutrition will be even more important to astronauts. At least Shackleton
and his crew could kill penguins and seals when their rations ran out – for beyond-
Earth orbit missions, there will be no such resupply. So, food provision will be critical
and meticulously planned to ensure optimal nutrition. This planning is a challenge
because there are so many physiological changes (space motion sickness, fluid shifts,
etc.) and spacecraft environment (lack of ultraviolet light, high levels of carbon diox-
ide, etc.) variables that can affect nutritional requirements.
Space Food System
The ISS food system (. Fig. 2.14) provides menus on an 8–16-day cycle. Food

items are supplied by NASA, CSA, ESA, JAXA, and the Russian Space Agency.
Food is packaged in single-serving containers. The food can be in natural form, or
.. Fig. 2.13 The legendary Shackleton with his men on the ice. Credit: Frank Hurley
.. Fig. 2.14 The space food

system on the ISS. Yum! Credit:
NASA
Nutritional Issues
47 2
.. Fig. 2.15 Daily nutritional intake report. Credit: Carrier
it can be thermostabilized, dehydrated, and/or irradiated. Every day, crewmembers

record their dietary intake using a Food Intake Tracker (FIT) app (. Fig. 2.15)

by simply scanning the barcode of the foods to be eaten. The food the crew eats
is based on specific menus, but the astronauts can also bring bonus foods (Sunita
Williams is a big fan of fluffernutter, which is a sandwich made with peanut butter
and marshmallow crème, usually served on white bread). Analysis of the nutrients
consumed by the crew is conducted by Johnson Space Center’s Food Analytical
Laboratory, which generates details about food intake, for example, how much pro-
tein, iron, and calcium each crewmember is eating.
Nutritional Countermeasures
All this recording of data may seem excessive, but missions have revealed that
astronauts do not always eat as much as they should. Apollo astronauts only ate
about 65 percent of what they should have, while Shuttle crews fared little better,
eating only about 70 percent of what was recommended. Not surprisingly, this lack
of food intake was associated with weight loss and lack of energy. And if you are
less energetic, that has a negative impact on not only performing exercise counter-
measures but also on bone and muscle loss.
Another reason for fastidiously monitoring nutrition intake is to track bio-

chemical differences preflight, inflight, and postflight. Remember the vision prob-
lems that were discussed earlier? Data suggests that carbon dioxide levels, which
2 are much higher on ISS than on Earth, may increase blood flow to the head and
compound vision issues. And biochemical evidence has indicated a link between
circulating metabolites of the one-carbon metabolism pathway (such as homo-
cysteine and methylmalonic acid) and these vision issues. This data has also indi-
cated that concentrations of serum folate and certain one-carbon intermediates are
related to changes in refraction following increments on ISS. Sodium has also been
implicated in the vision issue. Sodium levels are very high: the average on Earth is
>5g sodium per day, whereas astronaut intakes are around 12 to 13 g per day in
the space food system. All these nutritional links to just one physiological issue
underline the importance of tracking nutrition during missions.
Here’s another issue: bone loss. Bone loss represents a critical challenge to astro-
naut health and is probably a sure-fire mission killer for any Mars mission. Data
has suggested that nutritional manipulation may have some measurable effect on
increasing bone formation. For example, increased remodeling rate was observed
in crewmembers who maintained vitamin D status. Another bone loss counter-
measure may be omega-3 fatty acids, but more research must be conducted to sup-
port this. But while excesses of certain elements of the space food system can help
astronauts, excess intake of other elements may harm crewmembers. For example,
the highest tolerable intake of iron is 45 mg per day, but some crewmembers have
reported mission averages in excess of this. Excess iron content in food can cause
oxidative damage.
Psychosocial Support
Astronauts possess a wide-ranging repertoire of behavioral competencies that help

them function effectively in a multicultural environment. This repertoire is critical
because a spacecraft is an environment in which faults cannot be tolerated. To ensure
all astronauts have these skillsets, space agencies apply very specific “select-out” and
“select-in” criteria during selection (see below). And once selected, astronauts com-
plete extensive preflight training to develop “expeditionary behavior,” which com-
prises space-related psychosocial skills designed to ensure mission success. In addition
to all this preparation, to ensure missions proceed smoothly, there is a ground-based
complement of staff who provide behavioral support via videoconferences.
»» Single men, perfect health, considerable strength, perfect temperance, cheerfulness,
ability to read and write English, prime seamen of course. Norwegians, Swedes and
Danes preferred. Avoid English, Scotch and Irish. Refuse point-blank French,
Italians and Spaniards. Pay to be Navy pay. Absolute and unhesitating obedience to
every order, no matter what it may be.
49 2
»» Captain De Long’s crew requirements for the Jeanette Arctic Expedition 1879–1881
»» The CSA is seeking outstanding scientists, engineers and/or medical doctors with a
wide variety of backgrounds. Creativity, diversity, teamwork, and a probing mind
are qualities required to join the CSA’s Astronaut Corps. To withstand the physical
demands of training and space flight, candidates must also demonstrate a high level
of fitness and a clean bill of health.
»» Canadian Space Agency’s Astronaut Recruitment Campaign announcement, 2008
Crew Selection
Still, the process of selecting astronauts is a challenging task. Interpersonal dynam-

ics and difficulties, crew performance breakdown, and human interaction and per-
formance in a confined and isolated environment are just a few factors that must be
considered. Additional selection criteria such as communication competence and
intercultural training also have a decisive impact on future mission success. It is for
these reasons that the psychological aspect is often identified as one of the more
problematic life support issues.
Nothing could be further from the truth. There is a wealth of information
about selecting crews for arduous expeditions. Take Shackleton. Back in 1913,
nearly 5000 men applied for the 27 jobs available on the great explorer’s Imperial
Trans-Antarctic Expedition. By comparison, NASA received just 3654 applica-
tions for its 2009 astronaut selection campaign – and this was in the age of the
Internet, remember. Shackleton personally interviewed each candidate he felt had
potential. While he obviously had to have crewmembers with sailing and scientific
skills, he also wanted people who had enthusiasm and optimism to help cope with
expedition demands. Fortunately, Shackleton (. Fig. 2.16) had an eye for talent

and knew how to build a team that could survive just about anything. Each and
every crewmember was selected to do a specific job and do it well, which is prob-
ably why Shackleton’s team survived for more than 2 years in Antarctica when all
seemed lost.
In common with long-duration missions to ISS, Shackleton’s expedition was
a dangerous one, and the success of his mission depended on a good team. His
ideal c rewmember had to be qualified for work on board the Endurance, but they
also had to have special qualifications to deal with the extreme (polar) condi-
tions. Another vital quality was the ability to live together in harmony for a very,
very long time without outside communication. Organizations that have studied
how Shackleton survived find that even though his mission failed, every man
survived the impossible odds because Shackleton had picked a good team and
had made sure each member understood his role. Also, Shackleton knew how
well the rigors of Antarctic exploration would test the spirit of his men, so he
.. Fig. 2.16 Probably the

greatest explorer who ever lived.
Sir Ernest Shackleton. Credit:
National Library of Norway
2
was careful to look for character and not just competence. Technical qualifica-
tions were an asset, but he placed a greater emphasis on a positive attitude and
a light-hearted nature.
For example, when Shackleton interviewed Reginald James, who became the
expedition’s physicist, he asked whether James could sing! Alexander Macklin, a
surgeon, won a place on the expedition when, in response to Shackleton’s inquiry
about why Macklin wore glasses, Macklin replied, “many a wise face would look
foolish without spectacles.” Then there was the selection of his leaders. With over
two dozen men to command, Shackleton understood the value of having loyal
and strong leaders, which is why he chose Frank Wild as his second-in-command.
Wild was a veteran of Antarctic exploration who had more than proven his mettle
and his compatibility with Shackleton on Shackleton’s 1907 expedition. Likewise,
Thomas Crean, Shackleton’s second officer, had proven his strength and discipline
in his service with Shackleton on a 1901 expedition.
zz Shackleton’s ten guidelines for choosing crewmembers:

1. Start with a solid crew you know from previous expeditions or who come rec-
ommended by those you trust.
2. Your second-in-command is the most important hire. Pick one who comple-
ments your management style, shows loyalty without being a yes man, and can
work with others.
3. Hire those who share your vision.
4. Weed out those who are not prepared to do mundane or unpopular jobs.
51 2
5. Go deeper than job experience and expertise. Ask questions that reveal a can-
didate’s personality, values, and perspective on work and life.
6. Surround yourself with cheerful, optimistic people. Not only will they reward
you with the loyalty and camaraderie vital for success, but they will stick by
you when times get tough.
7. Applicants hungriest for the job are apt to work hardest to keep it.
8. Hire those with the talents and expertise you lack.
9. Spell out clearly to new employees the duties and requirements of their jobs.
10. Help your crew do top-notch work.
Astronauts with the Wrong Stuff
While Shackleton’s guidelines identify many characteristics that also apply to those
being considered for ISS missions, those doing the selecting have to apply slightly
more rigorous processes than Shackleton did to avoid selecting astronauts with the
“wrong stuff ”.
(Panel 1) Crash and Burn: The Cautionary Tale of Lisa Nowak

It took NASA astronaut, Lisa Nowak a trench-coat, dark glasses and a wig,
(. Fig. 2.17) 12 days, 18 hours, 37 min-
following her on a bus from an airport
utes and 54 seconds to secure her place lounge to a car park. Afraid, she hurried
in one of the world’s most elite clubs to her car. She could hear running foot-
when she flew aboard the Shuttle Dis- steps behind her and as she slammed the
covery during STS-121 in July 2006. It door Nowak slapped the window and
took her about 14 hours to destroy it. tried to pull the door open. ‘Can you
That was how long it took the 43-year help me, please? My boyfriend was sup-
old mission specialist to drive the 1500 posed to pick me up and he is not here,’
kilometers from Houston, Texas, to Nowak was alleged to have pleaded.
Orlando, Florida, carrying with her a When Shipman said she couldn’t help,
carbon-dioxide powered pellet gun, a the astronaut started to cry. Shipman
folding knife, pepper spray, a steel mallet wound down her window at which point
and $600 in cash. Nowak had discovered Nowak discharged the pepper spray.
that Colleen Shipman, a US air force Shipman drove off, her eyes burning,
captain, was flying in from Houston to and raised the alarm. Nowak was sub-
Orlando that night and Nowak wanted sequently charged with attempted first-
to be there to ‘scare her’ into talking degree murder in what quickly became
about her relationship with the man at the most bizarre incident involving any
the centre of a love triangle. That man of NASA’s active-duty astronauts.
was Bill Oefelein, who underwent astro- To say the group to which Nowak
naut training with Nowak. belonged (her assignment to the agency
Shipman allegedly saw Nowak, was terminated by NASA on March 8,
whom she had never met before, wearing 2007) is select is an understatement. Up
.. Fig. 2.17 Lisa
Nowak. Credit: NASA
to 2007, NASA had selected just 321 formance and a low value on self-care
astronauts since the US agency began beyond that required to perform the
preparing to go into space in 1959. job. These types – astronauts – do a
Nowak had been subjected to NASA’s great job ignoring and denying signs of
rigorous screening process and trained fatigue, either physical or psychologi-
for years to cope with the stress of space- cal - just like polar explorers. Instead,
flight. Like all astronauts, Nowak had they assume a machine-like thought
been subject to extensive psychiatric and process to deal with any problems. But
psychological screening, all of which the human brain isn’t just a thinking
made her behavior incomprehensible. machine, it is also the seat of emotions,
To many, the Nowak scandal and the suppression of emotions plays
called to mind every bad science fic- out in the battlefield of the subcon-
tion movie where they send unstable scious mind. That suppression and the
characters into space. Others argued associated physical and psychological
that NASA should have noticed the damage eventually surfaces in skewed
signs of Nowak’s unraveling. These thought processes and actions, which is
people might have had a point, but exactly what happened to Nowak.
you have to remember that people in Nowak’s drama played out in an air-
highly stressful jobs are generally over- port parking lot. Imagine a comparable
achievers who put a high value on per- scene on a spaceship en-route to Mars!
53 2
As tragic as astronaut Lisa Nowak’s breakdown was, NASA has every reason to
be thankful that it didn’t occur during a space mission and every reason to worry
about how it will avoid such scenarios during missions to the Moon and Mars.
Although research into genomic screening, brain scans, and biometric monitor-
ing may help avoid or at least avert mental breakdowns, the Lisa Nowak incident
(Panel 1) highlights the fact that the greatest threat to any long-duration mission
might be the astronauts themselves!
Just like trying to predict whether a crewmember had the right stuff for a polar
expedition, trying to guess whether an astronaut will be vulnerable to psychiatric
or psychosocial problems during multi-month missions remains an inexact science
at best. Current screening involves a standard battery of tests that are administered
to collect psychological information, as well as successive 2-hour interviews [30].
The first interview is conducted by a psychiatrist and a psychologist and the second
with a psychiatrist alone. Standard tests (which the Canadian Space Agency also
employs to select its astronauts) include the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality
Inventory and the Personality Characteristics Inventory, which are used to identify
“right stuff,” “no stuff,” and “wrong stuff ” characteristics [31, 32]. What consti-
tutes the “right stuff ” for a long-duration space odyssey includes a history of emo-
tional stability and little sign of depression or neuroticism. These long-duration
crewmembers tend to be socially adept introverts who get along well with others
but don’t need other people to be content. Another important characteristic is a
high toleration for lack of achievement, which makes sense when you think about
the sheer length of the mission. In common with Shackleton, Amundsen, and com-
pany, this group of astronauts need to be prepared for changes of plan, contingen-
cies, and the possibility that goals won’t be achieved.
Confinement
Another reason the doom and gloom merchants like to highlight the psychological
aspect as being the weak link in manned spaceflight is the fact that astronauts work
in isolated, confined, and extreme (ICE) environments. Working in these environ-
ments, aforesaid doom and gloom merchants argue, will cause astronauts to lose
their minds, turn on each other, and perhaps even come to blows.
This is fantasy. Let us look at a real-life ICE experience to prove this point (two
more are provided in Appendix III). In 1893, Fridtjof Nansen sailed to the Arctic in
the Fram (. Fig. 2.18), a purpose-built, round-hulled ship designed to drift north

through the sea ice. Nansen’s theory was inspired by the voyage of the Jeannette,
which foundered northeast of the New Siberian Islands and was found on the south-
west coast of Greenland after having drifted across the Polar Sea. Nansen reckoned
the Polar current’s warm water was the reason for the movement of the ice. But after
more than a year in the ice, it became apparent that Fram would not reach the North
Pole. So Nansen (. Fig. 2.19), accompanied by Hjalmar Johansen, continued north

on foot when the Fram reached 84° 4´ North. It was a bold move, as it meant leaving
the Fram not to return and a return journey over drifting ice to the nearest known
land 800 kilometers south of the point where they started.
.. Fig. 2.18 The Fram, one of the most famous exploration vessels ever built. From Amundsen,
Roald: The South Pole, Vol. I, first published by John Murray, London 1912
Nansen and Johansen started their journey on 14 March 1895 with three
sledges, two kayaks, and 28 dogs. On 8 April 1895, they reached 86° 14´ N, the
highest latitude ever reached at that time. The men then turned around and
started back but they didn’t find the land they expected. On 24 July 1895, after
using their kayaks to cross open leads of water, they came across a series of
islands where they built a hut (. Fig. 2.20) of moss, stones, and walrus hides.

Here they spent 9 mostly dark months, spending up to 20 hours out of every 24
sleeping, waiting for the daylight of spring. They survived on walrus blubber
and polar bear meat. In May 1896, Nansen and Johansen decided to strike out
for Spitsbergen. After traveling for a month, not knowing where they were, they
were delivered from their endeavors through a chance meeting with Frederick
George Jackson, who was leading the British Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition,
which was wintering on the island. Jackson informed them that they were on
Franz Josef Land. Finally, Nansen and Johansen made it back to Vardø in the
north of Norway.
55 2
.. Fig. 2.19 Fridtjof Nan-
sen. Credit: Henry Van der
Weyde
.. Fig. 2.20 Artist Lars Lorde’s depiction from a photograph by Nansen of the dugout hut where
Nansen and fellow explorer Hjalmar Johansen spent the winter of 1895–1896. From Nansen’s 1897
book Farthest North
Salutogenesis
Another negative that the doom and gloom merchants like to focus on is bore-
2 dom. Personally, I’ve never heard of any astronaut complaining of being bored. In
fact, in all the astronaut autobiographies written, the focus is mostly on the posi-
tive. Psychologists even have a term for how astronauts spin the positive aspects
of being in such an isolated and extreme environment: salutogenesis. It’s a term
coined by Aaron Antonovsky, a professor of medical sociology, and it is intended
to convey the idea that under certain conditions, stress is beneficial and health-
promoting, not pathogenic or destructive to health. As you can imagine, polar
explorers experienced all sorts of negative effects as they struggled to cope with iso-
lation, deprivation, and extreme conditions. But on the flipside, the elation of hav-
ing coped with so much successfully brought positive benefits. So explorers tended
to enjoy the experience and had positive reactions to the challenges of the environ-
ment. Not only that, but this unique group of individuals thrived on the feeling of
having successfully overcome these challenges. In their diaries, they routinely refer
to the beauty and grandeur of the land, ice, and sea, the camaraderie and mutual
support of the team, and the thrill of facing and overcoming the challenges of the
environment, which is probably why so many signed up for repeat expeditions.
But space agencies and space psychologists are still fixated with the deleterious
effects of long-duration missions and their countermeasures, and scant attention
has been paid to the beneficial effects of such an endeavor (. Table 2.1), which is a

shame, because polar exploration has shown that individuals who adapt positively
to an inhospitable or extreme environment can derive benefits from their experi-
ences, including an initial improvement in mental health as a crewmember adapts
to the environment.
.. Table 2.1 Salutogenic after-effects of polar expedi-

tions (many of which apply to astronauts)
Sense of personal achievement
Striving toward important goals
Courage, resoluteness, indomitability
Excitement, curiosity
Increased self-esteem
Hardiness, resiliency, coping
Improved health
Group solidarity, cohesiveness, shared values
Increased individuality, reduced conformity
Ability to set and achieve higher goals and changes in

thinking
57 2
Despite some researchers choosing to ignore the salutogenic effects of space-
flight, these effects have been observed during most missions. Astronauts report
positively about friendship and the cohesiveness among the crew, satisfaction in
jobs well done, pride in having been chosen to fly in space, and an appreciation of
the beauty of Earth from space. This has been coined the overview effect (I strongly
recommend the following video that describes this phenomenon: 7 https://www.
youtube.com/watch?v=CHMIfOecrlo). In fact, the current trend in memoirs writ-

ten by spacefarers is to refer to positive emotions three times as often as to negative
ones, a good recent example being Chris Hadfield’s An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on
Earth: What Going to Space Taught Me About Ingenuity, Determination, and Being
Prepared for Anything. Astronauts’ autobiographical accounts routinely mention
trust in others, autonomy, initiative, industry, strong personal identity, and a con-
viction that their life makes sense and is worthwhile. These astronauts were con-
fident about their emotional stability and coping abilities and viewed themselves
as active agents in dealing with problems – just like Shackleton and his crew or
Nansen and Johansen.
These autobiographical reports point to some inescapable conclusions. First,
space agencies select resilient people who are good at solving problems and get-
ting along with others (. Table 2.2). Second, for most astronauts, spaceflight is

their peak life experience. Third, among postflight changes, astronauts consider
.. Table 2.2 Astronaut characteristics for long-duration

missions
High motivation to achieve
High sense of adventure
Low susceptibility to anxiety
Aged older than 30 years
Emotionally stable
Few symptoms of depression
Low neuroticism
Introverted but socially adept
Not greatly extraverted or assertive
No great need for social interaction
Low demands for social support
Sensitive to needs of others
High tolerance of little mental stimulation
Does not become bored easily
High tolerance to lack of achievement

themselves to be changed for the better. These findings in no way detract from the
importance of anticipating problems and preparing countermeasures for the chal-
lenges of long-duration missions – but equally, they underline the importance of
2 also considering the possibly unique benefits of this great adventure, to the astro-
nauts themselves and to humankind.
Immune System
Immune dysregulation was first observed in astronauts in the 1960s and 1970s,
including the Apollo crews, half of whom suffered bacterial infections. While there
is much data about astronauts’ immune system responses following spaceflight, less
is known about what happens during a mission (. Fig. 2.21). Of the research con-

ducted postflight, data has revealed several changes, including changes in leuko-
cytes, cytokine production, reduced natural killer cell activity, and altered immune
responses. Many of these altered immune system changes are related to very high
levels of physical and psychological stress that astronauts must endure during their
missions [33]. Isolation, confinement, and changed circadian rhythms are all fac-
tors that are implicated in the altered immune responses observed in astronauts
following long-duration missions [34].
.. Fig. 2.21 How spaceflight affects the immune system. Credit: NASA
Radiation
59 2
Another major factor that has a profound negative impact on immune sys-
tem function is the exposure to ionizing radiation, although the exact mechanisms
that cause radiation-induced immune dysregulation have yet to be fully elucidated.
In addition to radiation exposure, the effect of weightlessness causes significant
immune system changes, since the absence of gravity alters signaling pathways that
are key to T-cell activation.
Radiation
Of all the physiological challenges astronauts must deal with, radiation is the most
damaging. Part of the reason is that the body cannot adapt to radiation: the longer
an astronaut is in space, the more radiation they will be exposed to. And as we shall
see, too much radiation can have significant negative effects on human physiology.
But first, a primer.
Galactic Cosmic Rays
Why all the fuss over this particular type of radiation? GCR is unique for the sim-
ple reason that it is nigh on impossible to shield against, and here’s why. GCRs are
highly energetic charged particles that originate outside the Solar System, bulleting
along at close to the speed of light, propelled through space by the force of explod-
ing stars [35]. These particles have tremendous energy. The mass of some of these
particles, such as iron, combined with their phenomenal speed, enable them to slice
through the walls of a spacecraft like the proverbial hot knife through butter.
Astronauts exposed to too much cosmic radiation are at higher risk of develop-
ing cancer. And not just any cancer. Dr. Francis Cucinotta [36], one of the world’s
leading experts on the physiological effects of space radiation, says, “The type of
tumors that cosmic ray ions make are more aggressive than what we get from other
radiation.”
GCRs comprise mainly of protons and alpha particles, which make up about
99 percent of cosmic rays, with the remaining 1 percent composed of heavy nuclei
such as lithium, beryllium, and boron. GCRs composed of charged nuclei that are
heavier than helium are termed HZE ions. HZE ions are scarce, but because these
particles are so highly charged and so heavy, they contribute to a large proportion
of an astronaut’s radiation dose.
Measuring Galactic Cosmic Rays
The ISS is equipped with a suite of active radiation monitors that provide ground
controllers and crew with cumulative exposures and dose rates. We’ll discuss these
in more detail in 7 Chap. 7, so what follows is a primer. One example of the moni-

tors carried on ISS is a spectrometer, which provides time-resolved measurements

of GCR and the components of GCR such as neutrons, measured via neutron
spectroscopy. Why are neutrons so important? Results from various studies over
the years have revealed that secondary neutrons contribute up to 30 percent of
the total radiation dose that astronauts are exposed to during their tour of duty.
2 Charged particle monitoring is also important because this data provides infor-
mation about the direction-dependent distribution of charged particles inside the
ISS. This data can then be used to calculate accurate radiation data for organ expo-
sure and the consequent risk of that exposure to the particular organ. All in all, the
accumulation of this data is collected for the purpose of reducing ambiguity when
calculating risk and decreasing the uncertainty when characterizing the radiation
environment inside the ISS.
Solar Particle Events
The next component of space radiation is solar particle events (SPEs)

(. Fig. 2.22). SPEs comprise energetic electrons, protons, and alpha particles

that are accelerated to speeds approaching light speed by shockwaves that pre-
cede coronal mass ejections (CMEs), which occur near solar flare sites. The most
energetic SPEs may arrive in LEO within 20 or 30 minutes of the event and
may cause significant effects in the Earth’s atmosphere. Fortunately, those effects
are predictable, to a degree. That’s because the Sun’s activity follows an 11-year
cycle that comprises 4 inactive years (solar minimum) and 7 active years (solar
maximum).
During solar maximum, the Sun generates about three CMEs per day, com-
pared to one every 5 days during solar minimum. These events and the timing of
these events are significant because a typical CME contains billions of tons of mat-
ter, and the shockwaves associated with CMEs may generate magnetic storms that
may impact those residing in LEO. During a large SPE, the fluence of protons may
.. Fig. 2.22 A solar particle

event. Credit: NASA
Radiation
61 2
exceed tens of millions of electron volts (MeV) and may significantly increase the
radiation dose for crews in LEO. Needless to say, such energies impose significant
operational constraints upon mission planners. Unfortunately, there are no ways
to reliably predict when an SPE may strike; the best scientists can do is to study the
relationship between SPE intensity and the parameters of shock and plasma, to
better understand the conditions when these events occur.
Measuring Solar Particle Radiation
Thanks to measurements by the Geostationary Operational Environmental

Satellite (GOES) system, scientists have been able to classify the size of SPEs. Most
SPEs are classified as A, B, C, M, or X, with each class having a peak flux ten times
greater than the previous one. A linear scale exists within each class, which means
that a flare rated X2 is twice as powerful as a flare rated X1 (or four times as power-
ful as one rated M5). The flares that generally are the most disruptive are those in
the M and X categories.
To estimate radiation exposure, scientists use the spectra of SPEs to estimate
particle intensities. This information is then used to model radiation exposures, but
due to the unpredictable characteristics of particle acceleration and propagation
of these particles in interplanetary space [37], the spectra of many SPEs are dif-
ficult to determine. To partially overcome this problem, scientists use algorithms
that sequentially interpolate measured data points. This information may also be
used to model radiation exposure. To determine acute radiation risks caused by
SPE exposure, a projection code was developed by NASA. Known as the Acute
Radiation Risk/BRYNTRRN Organ Dose (ARRBOD) projection code, this soft-
ware can be used to analyze SPEs. This information, combined with information
obtained from human phantom models and dosimetry (see 7 Chap. 7), can be

used to estimate resultant organ doses in those astronauts who encounter a SPE
event. It in turn can be used to model the severity of acute radiation sickness and
the consequent effects that may include vomiting, nausea, and weakness.
Radiation Dose on Board the International Space Station
The ISS orbits at an altitude of about 400 kilometers (at perigee, it is at 400 km,
and at apogee, it orbits at 408 km), which is an altitude above the Earth’s primary
atmosphere. This means that astronauts are exposed to high fluxes of ionizing radi-
ation, the primary sources of which are GCRs. In addition to GCRs, ISS crews are
exposed to particles trapped in the Van Allen belts and SPEs [38, 39, 40].
Another key element in calculating the radiation exposure of astronauts on
board the orbiting outpost is the orbital inclination of the ISS, which is 52°. This
inclination means that the station passes through the South Atlantic Anomaly
(SAA) every day. The SAA, which is located east of Argentina, is characterized
by an anomaly in the Earth’s geomagnetic field which results in energetic particles
.. Fig. 2.23 Genetic material

that is bombarded by radiation
may be difficult to repair. Credit:
NASA
2
penetrating lower altitudes than normal. This means that when the ISS passes
through the SAA, astronauts are exposed to higher levels of ionizing radiation.
Astronauts are already at risk of developing cancer simply by traveling to space.
Astronauts on the ISS receive 80 millisieverts (mSv) during a six-month increment,
whereas people on Earth receive 2 mSv a year. Another comparative metric is the
chest radiograph dose, which is 0.02μSv per hour. And if you happen to spend a
lot of time flying commercial, the radiation dose per hour is about 0.3 to 5.7μSv.
Spend too much time on orbit and astronauts hit their career radiation limit, which
equates to an increase of 3 percent risk of developing cancer in their lifetime. Any
astronaut heading for Mars will be exposed to between 1 and 5 Sv and therefore
be guaranteed to hit – and exceed – that limit by virtue of being exposed to killer
radiation for the best part of 2 years. But remember, this is not just any type of
radiation. This radiation isn’t stopped by shielding, and there is a lot of it. Out
there in deep space, it would only take about 3 days for every cell in every crew-
member to be hit by a high-energy proton. Now, for some cells, it isn’t much of a
problem, but when these careening nuclei hit important cells such as DNA, muta-
tions may result (. Fig. 2.23).

Radiation Risk
In the United States, the incidence rate of cancer is 38.5% (according to the
National Cancer Institute – 7 www.cancer.gov – based on statistics between

2008–2012). If you exposed 100 people (which is the capacity of SpaceX’s Mars-
bound Starship incidentally) to the 1 Sv of radiation that Mars astronauts will
be exposed to, 61 of them will be diagnosed with cancer. By virtue of the unique
characteristics of GCR, these cancers would typically be lung, breast and colorec-
tal cancers, meaning half these astronauts would die. Scientists have modeled the
dangers of GCRs during a manned Mars mission and have calculated that expo-
sure to radiation on such a trip would shorten an astronaut’s lifespan by between
15 and 24 years.
Radiation
63 2
Radiation and Crew Health
It sounds like a lot of doom and gloom, which is why experts like Dr. Cucinotta
[36] recommend that space agencies gather a lot more data about how GCR affects
crew health and how these effects may be mitigated. For example, some of the
immune responses caused by GCR exposure are similar to those in inflammatory
diseases. In such cases, oxidants are produced that change intercellular signaling,
but it is possible that nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs could be taken by
astronauts during their Mars mission to mitigate some of the effects of cancer.
Another more serious effect of GCR is that it may accelerate the onset of symp-
toms similar to those exhibited by Alzheimer’s patients [41, 42, 43]:
»» Galactic cosmic radiation poses a significant threat to future astronauts,”. “The pos-
sibility that radiation exposure in space may give rise to health problems such as
cancer has long been recognized. However, this study shows for the first time that
exposure to radiation levels equivalent to a mission to Mars could produce cognitive
problems and speed up changes in the brain that are associated with Alzheimer’s
disease.
»» ProfessorM. Kerry O’Banion, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rochester Medical

Center Department of Neurobiology and Anatomy.
O’Banion’s research focused on how GCR affects the central nervous system
(CNS) and the news was less than rosy. Much of his research has been conducted
at the NASA Space Radiation Laboratory at Brookhaven National Laboratory on
Long Island. It’s a place that was chosen for its accelerators, which can collide mat-
ter at extremely high speeds, thereby replicating what happens in space. O’Banion’s
research examined the effect of GCR-equivalent radiation on cognitive function
(i.e., how long it took mice to find their way through a maze). To do this, mice were
exposed to various doses of radiation comparable to levels Mars-bound astronauts
will be subjected to. The mice were subject to recall tests, and researchers found
that mice exposed to radiation were more likely to fail the tests (they couldn’t find
their way through the maze), a finding that indicated cognitive impairment [41].
»» Because iron particles pack a bigger wallop it is extremely difficult from an engineer-
ing perspective to effectively shield against them. One would have to essentially wrap
a spacecraft in a six-foot block of lead or concrete.
»» ProfessorM. Kerry O’Banion, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rochester Medical

Center Department of Neurobiology and Anatomy.
After examining the mice more closely, researchers found that the brains of the
mice exhibited signs of vascular alteration and larger than normal amount of beta-
amyloid, which happens to be a signature of the Alzheimer’s. The researchers con-
cluded that exposing astronauts to GCR for an extended duration might accelerate
Alzheimer’s. So what can astronauts do? Well, they can shield themselves from the
radiation, a subject discussed in 7 Chap. 7, and they can monitor their exposure

2 to radiation while they are inside the vehicle.
Intravehicular Radiation
On board the ISS, passive dosimeters are located in each pressurized module [38,
44]. These dosimeters measure time-integrated absorbed doses, which change
according to the station’s altitude and position in the solar cycle. The require-
ments of these dosimeters are defined in the International Space Station Medical
Operations Requirements Document (ISS MORD SSP 50260), a document that
states the dose limits and radiation exposure practices across all mission phases.
These radiation monitors must perform the following functions:
1. Measure cumulative radiation dose.
2. Downlink linear energy transfer data.
3. Provide direction-dependent distribution radiation data for inside and outside
the ISS.
4. Downlink data for frequent analysis.
5. Downlink dose rate from charged particle monitoring equipment.
6. Alert the crew when exposure rates exceed set threshold.
Biomedical Consequences of Exposure to Space Radiation
The biological effects of exposure to space radiation can be divided into acute and
chronic. Acute effects are the result of exposure to high radiation doses, which
may be caused by SPEs, whereas chronic effects are caused by extended exposure
to space radiation. Potential effects of either type of exposure include direct and
indirect damage to genetic material, biochemical alterations of cells and/or tissues,
carcinogenesis, degenerative tissue effects, and cataracts. The extent of these effects
is determined by the type of radiation, its flux, and the energy spectrum, factors
that are incompletely understood. Other factors that determine radiation damage
include age at exposure, gender, and susceptibility to radiation.
The quantitative physiological effects of radiation are also poorly understood,
due partly to misinterpretation of the exact mechanisms and processes that con-
cern DNA repair. For example, experiments in the 2010s revealed a number of
uncertainties that apply to the quality factors used in radiation protection; some
studies indicated that physiological damage caused by a specific exposure was only
half that previously estimated, a finding explained by the fact that low energy pro-
tons inflict more damage than high energy ones. Why? Very simply, because low
energy protons take longer to pass through the body and therefore have more time
to interact with the tissues.
Yet another poorly understood mechanism is that of relative biological effec-
tiveness (RBE), which is determined to a large degree by radiation type and kinetic
Radiation
65 2
.. Fig. 2.24 Cataracts are yet
another risk of spending time
in deep space. Credit: Rakesh
Ahuja, MD
energy. How RBE correlates with tumor type or cancer progression is practically
unknown because most of the limited experimental data has been conducted on
mice, and it is difficult to extrapolate and apply mice data to humans. It is even
more of a challenge to use that data to estimate health risks for cancer, cataracts
(. Fig. 2.24), and CNS risks. To gain even a cursory insight into the problem will

require many, many, many more astronauts conducting 1-year (or longer) incre-
ments followed by post-mission observation times of at least 10 years. At least.
Given the ISS is due to be retired in 2028, this goal is impossible. And even it was,
extrapolating data from the ISS to deep space is extremely limited at best in terms
of making accurate risk predictions for those who eventually venture beyond Earth
orbit (BEO). In short, there are myriad knowledge gaps regarding the potential
acute and late biomedical risks from GCRs and SPEs, but what follows is some of
what we know.
Central Nervous System Effects
The potential acute and late risks to the CNS from GCRs and SPEs have not
been a major consideration for crews on board the ISS because these astronauts
are exposed to relatively low-to-moderate doses of ionizing radiation compared to
deep space doses.
»» I’m having these light flashes. I’m seeing this, like, light flashing in my eyeballs.
It was like fireworks in your eyeballs. It was spectacular.
»» Charles Duke, Lunar Module Pilot, Apollo 16

The risk presented by GCRs was evident during the Apollo era [45] when astro-
nauts reported the “light flash” phenomenon caused by HZE nuclei traversing
through the retina. As these nuclei traverse, they cause a microlesion. In addition
to microlesions in the eye, exposure to HZE nuclei, at doses similar to ones that
.. Table 2.3 MSL measurements for average dose rate on

cruise phase to Mars and on Mars surface [4]
2 GCR dose equivalent rate (mSv/day)
RAD cruise to Mars 1.84 ± 0.33
RAD Mars surface 0.70 ± 0.17
astronauts will be exposed to during a Mars mission, causes neurocognitive defi-

cits, such as operant reactions. Other CNS risks include detriments in short-term
memory and altered motor function. These are discussed briefly here.
Radiation protection for astronauts is based on a risk of a 1 in 33 probability
of death by cancer caused by occupational exposure, a limit that compares with a
1 in 270 risk of loss of crew caused by a flight failure. This risk estimate is deter-
mined by human epidemiology combined with quality factors, risk projection
models, and experimental models, but this method cannot be applied to estimate
CNS risks in deep space [46]. The reason for this is that there have been very few
humans that have ventured beyond Earth orbit, which means human scaling is
next to impossible. What is known is that GCR comprises protons, helium nuclei,
and nuclei that travel with high charge and great energy – also known as HZE
nuclei. The energy of these nuclei may range from tens of millions of electron
volts (MeV)/u to more than 10,000 MeV/u2. But these energies do not tell the
whole story, because secondary particles are generated as the nuclei pass through
shielding and tissue. And since GCR nuclei have such high energies, they are
capable of passing through hundreds of centimeters of material. To get a better
understanding of the GCR environment on a trip to Mars, NASA flew the RAD
on the MSL (. Table 2.3)1, 2.

. Table 2.3 shows the GCR dose equivalent measured by the RAD/MSL

study. By comparison, astronauts spending 6 months on the ISS are exposed to

80 mSv or less than a quarter of the exposure of astronauts spending more than 6
months on a trip to Mars. The reason for the difference is that astronauts in LEO
are partly protected by the Earth’s magnetic field, which repels GCR nuclei with
energies below 1000 MeV/u. With Mars astronauts taking such a radiation hit, it
will be necessary to find out as much as possible about the biomedical effects of
exposure to GCR. One option is to test nonhuman primates (NHP), since NHPs
and humans share a number of physiological and neurobiological characteristics.
For example, NHPs are used to investigate infectious diseases, Alzheimer’s, and
1 LET is the retarding force acting on a charged ionizing particle as it passes through material,
whether that material happens to be a spacecraft or an astronaut. The term describes how much
energy the particle transfers to the material traversed per unit distance. LET also depends on the
type of radiation and the material traversed.
2 MeV is short for megaelectron volt and is equivalent to 1 million electron volts (eV). 1 eV is the
amount of kinetic energy gained by an electron as it accelerates through an electric potential dif-
ference of 1 volt.
Radiation
67 2
strokes. Rodents can also be used, although the number of cross-species differ-
ences makes clinical determination of CNS health risks. For example, many of
the cognitive deficits are known to originate in the frontal cortex in humans, but
this area is underdeveloped in rodents. Another example is the difference in risk
assessment; death for 50% of a population from a fixed level of radiation expo-
sure occurs at a lower level of exposure for humans than it does for certain strains
of rodents. But rodents are the more favored test subject when it comes to radia-
tion research because NHP studies require much higher costs and more thorough
ethical review.
Behavioral Studies of CNS Risks
One radiation-related topic that has received media attention in recent years is the
suggestion that exposure to deep space radiation may cause cognitive deficits. The
aforementioned study that investigated this [41] exposed rats to 1000 MeV/u before
testing their spatial memory in a radial maze. In this study, the exposed rats com-
mitted more errors than control rats and were unable to develop a spatial strategy
to make their way through the maze. A similar study [8] examined mice that had
been subject to 2 weeks of whole-body irradiation. The results revealed impaired
novel object recognition and reduced spatial memory. Another study exposed
Wistar rats to 1000 MeV/u and tested the rats 3 months after exposure. The test
in this study was an attentional set shifting task (AST)3 in which only 17% of the
irradiated rats were able to complete compared with 78% of control rats.
Altered Neurogenesis4
Research has revealed that neurogenesis may be sensitive to radiation [46, 47] which
in turn may result in cognitive deficits such as memory [41]. Furthermore, studies
have indicated not only that exposure to high doses of radiation may inhibit the
generation of neuronal progenitor cells but that those cells that are generated may
not be fully functional [42]. These studies were conducted on mice using doses of
1000 MeV/u, which provide some insight into the mechanism of radiation-induced
cognitive injury, but for reasons indicated earlier, scaling these results to humans
is limited.
3 The AST measures attention and cognitive flexibility in rats. It is based on the intradimensional/
extradimensional component of the Cambridge Neuropsychological Test Automated Battery
(CANTAB) which is used to assess cognitive dysfunction in humans. An attentional set is created
when a person learns that a set of rules can be used to distinguish between relevant and irrelevant
cues
4 Neurogenesis is a term that describes the formation of neurons. In adults, this process occurs
in the subventricular zone (SVZ) and the subgranular zone of the brain. Scientists are still
researching the role that neurogenesis plays in cognition. Since the formation of neurons may
be sensitive to radiation, it is possible that long-term exposure may result in cognitive deficits.
Oxidative Damage5
Oxidative stress is thought to be implicated in Alzheimer’s disease, heart failure, and

2 chronic fatigue syndrome. Since radiation has been shown to increase oxidative dam-
age, oxidative stress represents yet another mechanism of radiation-induced cognitive
injury. Since antioxidants prevent such damage under normal conditions, it would
seem logical to suggest that astronauts eat food that contains high levels of antioxi-
dants. For example, a diet high in blueberries should help offset oxidative stress. Or
melatonin perhaps? Melatonin has high antioxidant properties and studies have shown
that it inhibits neurogenesis. The problem with research to date is that studies have used
high-dose rates and the biological effects of radiation are different at low-dose rates.
Furthermore, studies that have investigated the supposed beneficial effects of antioxi-
dants found no evidence that supplementation actually works. In fact, some studies
revealed that antioxidants such as vitamin A, vitamin E, and β-carotene might actually
be more damaging because taking extra amounts of antioxidants would help the body
rescue cells that had been damaged by radiation and that this might alter DNA repair.
»» This study shows for the first time that exposure to radiation levels equivalent to a
mission to Mars could produce cognitive problems and speed up changes in the
brain that are associated with Alzheimer’s disease. These findings clearly suggest
that exposure to radiation in space has the potential to accelerate the development
of Alzheimer’s disease. This is yet another factor that NASA, which is clearly con-
cerned about the health risks to its astronauts, will need to take into account as it
plans future missions.
»» Dr. Kerry O’Banion, University of Rochester Medical Center.
Alzheimer’s Disease
Alzheimer’s disease is a neurodegenerative disease that causes dementia in most

cases. Common symptoms include short-term memory loss, language problems,
disorientation, lack of motivation, and behavioral problems. The disease, which is
chronic, begins slowly and symptoms become worse with time. The cause of the
disease is not completely understood but the majority of the risk is believed to be
genetic. There are no treatments that can stop the disease or even slow its progres-
sion. It has been shown in mice that exposure to radiation accelerates the onset of
age-related neuronal dysfunction that results in symptoms similar to those exhib-
ited by those suffering from Alzheimer’s [41, 43].
5 Oxidative stress is a term that describes the imbalance between the production of free radicals
and the ability of the body to neutralize these free radicals through the use of antioxidants. Free
radicals are molecules that contain oxygen. These molecules have one or more unpaired electrons,
which means they are very reactive with other molecules which in turn means they are capable
of chemically interacting with and destabilizing cells such as DNA. Under normal conditions,
antioxidants prevent these reactions.
Radiation
69 2
Radiation-Induced Bone Loss
Another process affected by radiation is bone remodeling. In zero gravity or reduced

gravity, bone remodeling is disrupted, resulting in a loss of BMD. Astronauts on
board the ISS typically lose between 1.0 and 1.2 percent of BMD per month. This
equates to an overall loss of more than 7 percent during a typical 6-month incre-
ment, which in turn results in a two to threefold increase in fracture risk. For astro-
nauts in LEO, this rate of BMD loss is fairly predictable, but beyond LEO, the
radiation environment is much harsher, and the rate of BMD loss less predictable.
This is because bone is damaged more by higher doses of radiation, a fact long
documented by the persistent decline in bone volume following exposure to thera-
peutic radiation in cancer patients [48, 49].
Compounding the effect of osteoradionecrosis is the effect that radiation has
on fracture sites [49]. To better understand this, it is necessary to familiarize our-
selves with the biological damage caused by radiation. There are two types of radi-
ation: non-ionizing and ionizing. Non-ionizing radiation does not cause significant
biological damage because this type of radiation does not displace electrons from
an atom. Ionizing radiation on the other hand has sufficient energy to displace
electrons from an atom, thereby creating an ionization event. The energy of this
ionization event can break molecular bonds and thereby cause biological damage
such as single-strand or double-strand breaks in DNA. While the body is tremen-
dously resilient in its capacity to repair radiation damage, some cells ultimately die
in this onslaught of ionizing radiation. Worse, some cells may actually propagate
the ionized-induced damage to progeny.
We already know that the space radiation environment comprises a mix of ions
generated by SPEs and GCR. We also know, thanks to the data sent back from the
RAD that was strapped onto Curiosity, that the transit to Mars will result in a radi-
ation exposure of more than 1 Sievert. This means that tissue dose rates from space
radiation will be about 1–2.5 mSv per day (the annual terrestrial dose incidentally),
but solar flare dose rates may increase this number to more than 100 mSv/day, even
if inside a shielded vehicle. Furthermore, an astronaut conducting a deep space
EVA during a solar flare event may be exposed to a dose rates as high as 250 mSv
per day. By comparison, cancer patients receive daily dose (fractions) of about 6 Sv
targeted at the tumor, but these doses are delivered over a period of minutes [48].
We have a fairly good understanding of these processes because ionizing radiation
has long been used as a treatment for malignancies and has been a factor in reduc-
ing cancer mortality. One of the main reasons BMD is reduced following irradiation
is because osteoblasts and osteoclasts are damaged (a quick review: osteoblasts and
osteoclasts are two bone cells that work together to remodel bone; the osteoclasts
break down bone, and the osteoblasts build up bone). But when these bone cells are
damaged, bone formation is impaired due to cell cycle arrest. One of the processes by
which the osteoclasts and osteoblasts are damaged is by oxidative stress caused by the
radiation since it is this oxidative stress that damages osteoprogenitors. To begin with,
irradiation causes an increase in osteoclast number which thereby causes osteoporosis.
Shortly after exposure, there is a decline in the number of osteoclasts and osteoblasts,
which results in suppression of bone remodeling and degradation of bone quality.
The side effects of radiation treatment have concerned oncologists and will be
of concern to flight surgeons responsible for the health of astronauts embarked on
exploration class missions (ECM) beyond LEO. This is because bones within the
2 irradiated area are at a much higher fracture risk. For example, patients undergo-
ing breast cancer treatment may have rib fracture rates that exceed 15 percent. This
is of concern to astronauts on long duration because their bones will already be
weakened due to the loss of BMD simply as a consequence of being in micrograv-
ity. Consequently, these astronauts may be at high risk of traumatic and/or spon-
taneous fracture.
So, the effect of radiation results in a cascade of changes. In addition to the
reduction in bone mineral density and the impact on healing, the way in which
bone is weakened will be of concern to flight surgeons tasked with keeping ECM
crewmembers fracture-free. For example, the loss of trabecular bone means corti-
cal bone must now deal with a greater proportion of loads on the skeleton. This
in turn means that cortical bone will be increasingly less able to resist the torsional
and bending loads, a change that may be exacerbated by any defect in the bone
such as a porous hole. The net effect of all these radiation-induced effects is an
overall disruption of load distribution that results in a compromised structural
integrity of the bone. For astronauts about to land on Mars, this is not an optimum
situation. It is important to remember that after their ISS increments, astronauts
return to Earth with increased fracture risk, but this doesn’t mean a fracture is
imminent. It just means that due to the loss of BMD, there is a greater chance of
fracture after their return. But this increased fracture risk is dramatically reduced,
thanks to the rehabilitation schedule that astronauts follow after return to Earth,
which results in regeneration of bone.
Radiation-induced bone loss is termed osteoradionecrosis. Osteitis is a condi-
tion in which the bone’s ability to withstand trauma is reduced. In this condition,
nonhealing bone may be susceptible to infection, and the ability of the bone to
heal is further complicated by hypovascularization. Basically, as the body is sub-
jected to more and more radiation, the very small blood vessels inside the bone
are destroyed. This is devastating because these blood vessels carry nutrients and
oxygen to the bone. Without blood vessels to do this, the bone simply dies. On
Earth, one treatment option for patients with osteoradionecrosis is hyperbaric oxy-
gen therapy (although even with this treatment, less than 30 percent of patients will
survive), but this will not be an option on an interplanetary spaceship.
Key Terms
55 Advanced Resistive Exercise Device (ARED)
55 Beyond Earth Orbit (BEO)
55 Central Nervous System (CNS)
55 Cerebrospinal Fluid (CSF)
55 Coronal Mass Ejection (CME)
55 Deoxyribonucleic Acid (DNA)
55 Exploration Class Mission (ECM)
Bibliography
71 2
55 Food Intake Tracking (FIT)

55 Galactic Cosmic Radiation (GCR)
55 Isolated Confined Extreme (ICE)
55 Intracranial Pressure (ICP)
55 Intraocular Pressure (IOP)
55 Low Earth Orbit (LEO)
55 Linear Energy Transfer (LET)
55 Mars Science Laboratory (MSL)
55 Magnetic Resonance Angiography (MRA)
55 Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI)
55 Magnetic Resonance Venogram (MRV)
55 Optical Diameter (OD)
55 Optic Nerve Sheath Diameter (ONSD)
55 Optical Coherence Tomography (OCT)
55 Radiation Assessment Detector (RAD)
55 South Atlantic Anomaly (SAA)
55 Solar Particle Event (SPE)
55 Vision Impairment Intracranial Pressure (VIIP)
??Review Questions
1. How much calcium is excreted by the body per day in microgravity?
2. What is the function of the osteoblasts in bone remodeling?
3. What is the function of slow twitch muscle fibers?
4. What is meant by the term hypertrophy?
5. Explain why some astronauts suffer motion sickness.
6. How is ICP implicated in the VIIP syndrome?
7. Where would you expect to find the laminar cribrosa sclera?
8. What is meant by the term diuresis?
9. What is meant by the term salutogenesis?
10. What happens to natural cell activity in space?
11. What is the South Atlantic Anomaly?
12. How does radiation affect the CNS?
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Suggested Reading
Nicogossian, A. E., Huntoon, C. L., Pool, S. L., & Johnson, P. C. (1988). Space Physiology and Medi-
cine. Philadelphia: Lea and Febiger.
Principles of clinical medicine for space flight. New York: Springer Science and Business Media; 2008.
Survival and Sacrifice in Mars Exploration by Erik Seedhouse. Springer-Praxis.
Endurance by Alfred Lansing.
75 3
Open-Loop Vs.
Closed-Loop Life
Support Systems
MeLiSSA. An example of a closed-loop life support system concept.

Credit: ESA
Contents
Introduction – 77
pen-Loop Vs. Closed-Loop Life Support
O
Systems – 77
Life Support System Design Factors – 78

Crew Requirements – 82
E nvironmental Requirements: Radiation – 82
Environmental Requirements: Metabolic Rates – 85
Environmental Requirements: Nutrition – 87
Physicochemical Life Support Systems – 88

Atmosphere Management – 89
Bioregenerative Life Support Systems – 91
ontrolled Ecological Life Support

C
System – 93
References – 98
Open-Loop Vs. Closed-Loop Life Support Systems
77 3
55 Explain the difference between an open life support system and a closed life sup-
port system
55 State the primary life support system functions for food, water, waste, atmo-
sphere, and crew safety
55 Explain the difference between fail-safe and fail-operational
55 Explain how specific mission factors impact life support system design
55 List the primary subsystems of a life support system
55 List the life support interfaces for each life support subsystem
55 List the radiation exposure value for an astronaut spending 6 months on the ISS
55 Explain how human metabolic rate is calculated
55 Explain the significance of protein synthesis and inadequate energy intake on
muscle mass
55 Describe the functions of atmosphere management
55 Explain how carbon dioxide is removed from the ISS atmosphere
55 Explain the challenges of devising a closed-loop life support system
Introduction
There are various life support system categories – open-loop, closed-loop, regen-
erative, hybrid, bioregenerative, and physicochemical. This chapter explains the
difference between each type by highlighting distinguishing characteristics of each.
Many people are surprised that the life support system on board the International
Space Station is classified as a partially closed system (93 percent closure) and won-
der why it isn’t fully closed. Well – as you will begin to understand by reading this
book – life support system closure remains an extraordinary engineering challenge.
Just consider all the functions a life support system has to perform. And it’s not
just being able to perform all those functions; a life support system has to perform
these functions reliably for months and years with minimal maintenance. Ever
wonder what the astronauts do when they’re not performing science or exercising?
Maintaining the life support system!
Open-Loop Vs. Closed-Loop Life Support Systems
There are two primary types of life support systems (LSS): open-loop life support
systems and closed-loop life support systems. We’ll start with a general overview
and then dive into the details.
In an open-loop life support system, all required human inputs are supplied as con-
sumables. These consumables include food, oxygen, and water. Additionally, none of
these consumables are recycled. The advantage of such a system is that it is technically
simple. Very simple. Another advantage is that it is reliable. The disadvantages depend
on mission length. Those consumables represent a mass penalty, and if you rely on an
open-loop LSS, the longer your mission, the greater your mass penalty [1, 2, 3].
78 Chapter 3 · Open-Loop Vs. Closed-Loop Life Support Systems
.. Table 3.1 Life support functions
Life support category Functions
Maintaining the atmosphere Pressure control

Temperature and humidity control
3 Atmosphere recycling
Ventilation
Contamination control
Food Providing food
[Producing food: for long-duration missions]
Water management Providing potable water
Recovering water
Providing water for hygiene
Processing wastewater
Waste management Collecting waste
Storing waste
Processing waste
Crew safety Fire detection and suppression
Radiation shielding
[For long-duration missions: exercise countermeasures]
Let us take oxygen. Each crewmember requires 840 grams of oxygen per day.
That’s 3.3 kilograms per day for a crew of four. Multiply that by 1000 days, which
is about how long a return trip to Mars might take, and you have more than 3000
kilograms. That’s a lot of oxygen that has to be carried on your spacecraft. And
that does not include an amount for contingencies.
So, the obvious solution for long-duration missions is to opt for a closed
LSS. The problem is no such system exists except here on Earth. On Earth, we
have a fully closed LSS in which biological and chemical processes act to recycle
wastes into life support resources. Another classification of life support systems
is to group them into non-regenerative (open-loop) and regenerative (closed-loop).
And a third type of classification is to use the following terms: physicochemical life
support system for life support systems that provide some regenerative functions
using physicochemical processes and hybrid life support system for regenerative life
support systems that utilize physicochemical and biological processes. Regardless
of which type of system, each must fulfil the functions listed in . Table 3.1.
Life Support System Design Factors
Given that closed life support systems, whether they be physicochemical, regenera-
tive, or hybrid, seem to be the preferred system for long-duration flights (. Figs. 3.1,
3.2, 3.3 and 3.4), surely space agencies should adopt these as the life support system
of choice. But it isn’t that simple. Despite working for decades, the very best life
79 3
.. Fig. 3.1 Life support features as a function of mission length: 1–12 hours. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 3.2 Life support features as a function of mission length: 1–7 days. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 3.3 Life support features as a function of mission length: 12 days–3 months. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 3.4 Life support features as a function of mission length: 3 months–3 years. Credit: NASA
81 3
support scientists and engineers in the world have yet to design a closed life support
system. Designing one appears to be a fiendishly difficult goal to achieve.
One reason for this difficulty is designing failure tolerances. What are these? A
failure tolerance means that a failure in one subsystem will not result in a failure of
the whole system or a situation that threatens the lives of the crew. That is why an
LSS must be fail-safe or fail-operational. Fail-safe means the system has the ability
to sustain a failure but still retain the capability of keeping the crew and mission
safe, whereas fail-operational means the system can fail, but even after it has failed,
it can still meet the capability of retaining full operational capability [4, 5, 6].
To ensure these requirements are met, LSS engineers must consider myriad
factors, including power consumption, habitable volume, storage requirements,
mass ratio, and maintenance requirements. Each of these factors has an impact
(. Table 3.2) on the design of an LSS, and to determine the impact of each factor,

it is necessary to conduct what are called trade studies. These studies use simple
models to identify the effect of one factor or several factors against specific LSS
technologies. For example, a subsystem might perform at a very high level of effi-
ciency, but if that system is the size of a truck, then it obviously can’t be used on
a spacecraft where space is limited. Similarly, there might be a super-efficient sub-
system that does a great job, but if it needs maintenance every 3 days, then it will
require some rethinking.
.. Table 3.2 Mission factors and life support system impacts
Mission factor Impact on design of life support system

Number of crew More astronauts means more consumables are required
Mission length A long mission will require more consumables than a short mission.
A long mission will also require higher reliability and longer times
between maintenance and repair
Spacecraft leakage The more a spacecraft leaks, the greater the demand on the
atmosphere control system
Resupply capability The longer the mission, the greater the demand for reliability and
life support system closure
Power consumption There will always be limited power, and this has to be managed to
provide power to the myriad subsystems and assemblies
Volume Spacecraft have limited volume, so systems and subsystems have to
be designed to be as small as possible
Gravity Systems and subsystems must be designed to work in various gravity
effects – microgravity, one-sixth gravity (lunar), and one-third
gravity (Mars)
Contamination Spacecraft systems produce contamination, and the LSS must be
designed to deal with these contaminants
In situ resource This will reduce the demand on the LSS at the destination
utilization (ISRU)
Proc
esse
d Air
Temp & Air

Humidity
Control TCCS
Recovered Filtration &
H2O Cabin CO2
Heavy VOC CO2 Vented
Return Removal
Waste Removal Waste Gas
Mgmt Cabin Air
sate
3
Fire Detection
en
& Suppression CO2
nd
Was
Co
te Reduction
Particulate Monitor
Brine & Urine
Fe
Sensors ces Atmosphere Monitors
Toilet
Oxygen
ne
Urine PT Uri H2
Recovery
O2/N2 Oxygen
Brine Brine Acoustic Generation
Control
Water Processed Monitor
Recovery Br
ine Urine
wa Microbial High
ter Monitor P O2
(Water & Nitrog
en
Potable Surfaces)
te r
Product Water Product Wa
Ag Processing
Water
Biocide r
Wate
Crew Water Use:

• Hygiene water Waste Waste
• Drinking Water Water Quality
• Food Rehydration Monitors
.. Fig. 3.5 The life support system of the International Space Station. Credit: NASA
To give you an idea of the difficulty faced by engineers when considering all
these factors, take a look at . Fig. 3.5, which depicts the interaction of all the

subsystems of the LSS on board the International Space Station (ISS). A more
detailed analysis of these factors is presented in . Table 3.3, which considers all
the interfaces, each of which must be considered in these trade studies (. Fig. 3.6).
Crew Requirements
Obviously, the primary goal of the LSS, regardless of what category, is sustaining life.
To sustain life, an LSS must meet human physiological requirements, because they
are the drivers in the design process. Unfortunately for LSS engineers, humans can
only survive under very precise conditions [7, 8]. Consider the following facts: most
humans will expire if deprived of oxygen for 4 minutes, most will die if deprived of
water for 3 days, and most cannot survive after 30 days without food. Not only that,
but humans require a comfortable habitat, and they produce waste that also has to be
taken care of. So let’s take a look at some of these crew requirements. We’ll begin with
the basics of food and water and waste. These consumables are depicted in . Fig. 3.7.
Environmental Requirements: Radiation
In the context of spaceflight, the environment must provide a comfortable atmo-

sphere, artificial gravity, and protection from radiation. Achieving the first of these
requirements has already been accomplished, but achieving the second requirement
Crew Requirements
83 3
.. Table 3.3 Life support interfaces (BVAD)1
Life support Description Life support system

interfaces interfaces
Crew The crew interface interacts with all life support sub- All
systems and interfaces. It accounts for all metabolic
inputs and outputs from crewmembers. Historically
and likely in the near term (until other animals or
plants are included in the mission in large scales),
crewmembers are the foremost consumers of life sup-
port commodities and the primary producers of waste
products
Environ- The environmental monitoring and control (EMC) All
mental interface provides information on the chemical and
monitoring biological status of the crew habitat. This includes
and control trace and major constituent composition of air and
water, smoke detection, and microbial content of air,
water, and surfaces. The information is used to control
proper functioning of the life support system, as well
as indicate off-nominal events
Extravehic- The extravehicular activity (EVA) support interface Air, habitation,
ular activity provides life support consumables including oxy- waste, water,
support gen, water, and food for all suited activities, as well EMC, crew, food,
as carbon dioxide and waste removal. Suits may be power, thermal
employed for launch, entry, and abort (in case of cabin
depressurization), nominal or contingency EVA in
a weightless environment, emergency return from a
human mission beyond low Earth orbit, and surface
EVA operations on the Moon and Mars
Food The food interface provides the crew with prepackaged Air, habitation,
food products or commodities requiring some level of waste, water,
preparation or processing and includes the stowage EMC, crew, EVA
systems necessary for these items. If an advanced life support, food,
support system were to include a biomass subsystem, power
the food system would also receive harvested agricul-
tural products and process them into an edible form
Habitation The habitation interface is responsible for crew accom- Air, waste, water,
modations and human engineering. The packaging EMC, crew, EVA
and preparation and storage of crew supplies include support, food,
the galley layout and food supplies, clothing manage- power, radia-
ment systems, fire suppressant, gas masks, hygiene tion protection,
stations and supplies, housekeeping and related sup- radiation
plies, and other functions related to configurable crew
living. This technology area is responsible for imple-
menting the hardware resulting from human factor
requirements
(continued)
.. Table 3.3 (continued)
Life support Description Life support system

interfaces interfaces
In situ The in situ resource utilization interface provides life Air, water, EMC,
3 resource
utilization
support commodities such as gases, water, and regolith
from local planetary materials for use throughout the
crew, power, radia-
tion protection
life support system
Medical Under nominal conditions, medical systems would gen- Air, waste, water
systems erally have an inconsequential impact on the life sup-
port systems, but if an event should occur that causes
illness or injury, the impacts on the life support system
could be drastic. This includes medical and metabolic
monitoring of the crew during EVAs. Gases may be
required for hyperbaric treatment and respiratory
therapy or to provide oxygen for certain medical proce-
dures while controlling flammability risks in the cabin.
Additional water may be required, and waste could be
generated that might not be allowed to be stored, pro-
cessed, or recycled like waste from nominal activities
Power The power interface provides the necessary energy to All
support all equipment and functions within the life
support system. It may also provide resources like fuel
cell product water to the life support system
Propulsion The propulsion interface may provide resources such Air, waste, water,
as oxygen and cooling evaporant to the life support EMC, EVA sup-
system and thermal control system port, thermal
Radiation The radiation protection interface includes systems Habitation, waste,
protection design to provide the crew protection from environ- water, crew, food,
mental radiation. The life support system could pro- ISRU, power
vide some useful contribution to radiation protection,
especially in the form of water or waste products. The
radiation protection interface also provides sensors
and other predictive measures for solar particle events,
so the crew might seek shelter from such an event
Thermal The thermal interface is responsible for maintaining Air, habitation,
cabin temperature and humidity (unless controlled waste, water, EMC,
jointly with other atmosphere revitalization processes) crew, EVA support,
within appropriate bounds and for collection and food, power
removal of the collected waste heat from crew, equip-
ment, and the pressurized volume to the external envi-
ronment. Note: equipment to remove thermal loads
from the cabin atmosphere normally provides sufficient
air circulation. Thermal interface work is conducted
under the Thermal Control System Development for
Exploration Project
1Adapted from NASA’s Baseline Values and Assumptions Document. NASA/TP-2015–
218570. March 2015

Crew Requirements
85 3
.. Fig. 3.6 Example of the • Equivalent Mass as a function of mission duration:
type of trade studies that must open-loop
equivalent mass
be completed when trying to
design a life support system.
Credit: NASA
partially closed-loop
closed-loop
cross-over point
hardware mass
3 months
0 mission duration
Life Requirements on Earth and in Space

Item On Earth In Space
kg gallons kg gallons
per person per person per person per person
per day1 per day per day2 per day
Oxygen 0.84 0.84

Drinking Water 10 2.64 1.62 0.43
Dried Food 1.77 1.77
Water for Foood 4 1.06 0.80 0.21
.. Fig. 3.7 Graphical representation of the significant mass inputs and outputs. Credit: NASA [8]
may take quite a while. As for the third requirement, this may be something of a
mission killer when we start talking about missions to Mars. We discuss artificial
gravity in 7 Chap. 9 and radiation protection is discussed in 7 Chap. 7. An annual

dose of radiation here on Earth is 2 mSv, whereas an astronaut spending 6 months

on the ISS will be exposed to 80 mSv. But an astronaut taking a trip to Mars? Well,
any such astronaut will exceed their career radiation dose limit. As a comparative
reference, the dose limits for a 1-year mission are provided in . Table 3.4.
Environmental Requirements: Metabolic Rates
Metabolic activity is the result of converting food to energy by the astronauts. This
process exerts an effect not only on air revitalization and heat production but also
on water utilization, waste production, and power consumption. When calculating
metabolic rates, LSS engineers rely on equations used by NASA in their Human
Integration Design Handbook (HIDH) document [9]. In this equation, which is
.. Table 3.4 Sample career effective dose limits for 1-year missions for a 3% REID and
estimates of average life loss if death occurs
E (mSv) for a 3% REID (average life loss per death)
Age at exposure Male Female

3 30 620 (15.7) 470 (15.7)
35 720 (15.4) 550 (15.3)
40 800 (15.0) 620 (14.7)
45 950 (14.2) 750 (14.0)
50 1150 (12.5) 920 (13.2)
55 1470 (11.5) 1120 (12.2)
provided below, crew time is expressed as CM-h and crew days as CM-d, and crew-
member mass is a range from the 95th percentile American male to 5th percentile
Japanese female.
Human Metabolic Rate Equation males > 19 years old
 622 − 9.53 × age ( yrs ) + 1.25 (15.9 × mass ( kg ) + 539.6 × ht ( m )) 
 
 0.238853 × 103 
 MJ 
 = Energy 
 CM − d 
Human Metabolic Rate Equation females > 19 years old

 354 − 6.91× age ( yrs ) + 1.25 (9.36 × mass ( kg ) + 726 ht ( m )) 
 
 0.238853 × 103 
 MJ 
 = Energy 
 CM − d 
By applying this equation, it is possible to calculate metabolic rate for various

activities (. Table 3.5). Armed with this data, LSS engineers can then predict the

demands on the life support system.

As you can see in . Table 3.5, there is a lot of metabolic data (taken from

NASA’s HIDH document) that must be considered. This table gives you a snapshot
of the metabolic costs of a select number of activities. The next step in calculating
energy cost is determining the time taken by crewmembers to complete routine
daily activities, as depicted in . Table 3.6.

Crew Requirements
87 3
.. Table 3.5 Metabolic rates for various activities
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Crewmem- Dura- Dry Wet Total Water Sweat Oxygen CO2
ber activity tion of heat heat heat vapor runoff con- output
description activity output output output output rate sump- kg/min
(hr) kJ/hr kJ/hr rate kg/min kg/min tion
kJ/hr kg/min
Sleep 8 224 92 317 6.3 0.00 3.6 4.55

Nominal 14.5 329 171 500 11.77 0.00 5.68 7.2
Exercise 0.25 514 692 1206 46.16 1.56 39.4 49.85
0–15 min
at 75%
VO2 max
Exercise 0.25 624 2351 2974 128.42 33.52 39.4 49.85
15–30 min
at 75%
VO2 max
Recovery 0.25 568 1437 2005 83.83 15.16 5.68 7.2
0–15 min
post 75%
VO2 max
Recovery 0.25 488 589 1078 40.29 0.36 5.68 7.2
15–30 min
post 75%
VO2 max
Recovery 0.25 466 399 865 27.44 0.00 5.68 7.2
30–45 min
post 75%
VO2 max
Recovery 0.25 455 296 751 20.4 0.00 5.68 7.2
45–60 min
post 75%
VO2 max
Total/day 24 7351 4649 12000 1.85 0.08 0.82 1.04
Environmental Requirements: Nutrition
To maintain optimum physiological function, astronauts must be supplied with a

regular supply of energy and nutrients. The primary nutrients are carbohydrates,
fats, and protein. The ISS menu provides approximately 50% of calories from car-
bohydrates, 20% of calories from protein, and 30% of calories from fat [10]. But
providing calories and nutrients is just one of myriad considerations when it comes
to deciding how best to support nutritional requirements. History has shown that
.. Table 3.6 Crewmember daily routine activities
Activity Weekday Weekend Day (CM-h /

(Cm-h /CM-d) CM-d)
Daily planning conferences 0.5 0.0

3 Daily plan review/report preparation 1.0 0.0
Work preparation 0.5 0.0
Scheduled system utilization operations 6.5 0.3
Meals 3.0 3.0
Housekeeping 0.0 2.0
Post-sleep 0.5 0.5
Exercise, hygiene 2.5 2.5
Recreation 0.0 6.0
Presleep 1.0 1.0
Sleep 8.5 8.5
Total 24 24
NASA/TP-2015–218570. Life Support Baseline Values and Assumptions Document
astronauts rarely consume their required daily ration of calories. This is a prob-
lem because microgravity reduces muscle mass, and protein synthesis is required to
maintain muscle mass, but inadequate energy intake is related to reduced protein
synthesis [11, 12].
Then there is the question of bone mass. Several studies have shown that ade-
quate energy, protein, and vitamin D intake are required to maintain bone health
during several months on orbit. But the ISS diet is generally higher than it should
be in sodium (5300 mg/d), and research has shown that high sodium has bone-
resorbing effects during exposure to microgravity [13, 14]. Vision is another factor
to consider when deciding on an optimal nutritional intake for astronauts. That is
because the vision-related issue astronauts suffer from time to time on orbit may be
related to serum folate levels, vitamin B-12 intake, and homocysteine [15].
Physicochemical Life Support Systems
A space-based physicochemical LSS is one in which the astronaut is the only bio-
logical component. Such a system, such as the one on the ISS (see 7 Chap. 5), can
meet the tasks of managing the atmosphere, managing water, and managing waste
(. Fig. 3.8). We’ll take a look at each of these requirements here.

Physicochemical Life Support Systems
89 3
Environmental Control and Life Support Overview
• Monitors and controls partial

pressures
Environmental • Maintains total pressure
• Maintains temperature and
Monitoring humidity
• Produces oxygen
• Removes carbon dioxide
Atmosphere • Filters for particles and microbes
Management • Removes volatile organic gases
• Distributes cabin air (ventilation)
• Recycles wastewater
• Stores and distributes potable
water
Water • Uses recycled water to
Management produce oxygen
.. Fig. 3.8 The ISS LSS is a physicochemical LSS: the primary functions are depicted in this
diagram. Credit: NASA
Atmosphere Management
This function can be divided into the separate functions of controlling and supply-
ing the atmosphere, maintaining temperature and humidity, monitoring the atmo-
sphere, ventilating the atmosphere, and fire detection and suppression.
Atmosphere Control and Supply Functions

55 Maintain atmospheric pressure.
55 Maintain partial pressures of oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide.
55 Regulate atmospheric pressure and partial pressures.
55 Store oxygen and nitrogen.
55 Distribute oxygen and nitrogen.

55 Operate autonomously with limited crew intervention.
Temperature and Humidity Control Functions

55 Maintain temperature between 18°C and 26°C.
55 Maintain humidity between 25% and 70%.
3 55 Monitor trace contaminants and particulates.
55 Control microbial levels.
55 Operate autonomously with limited crew interaction.
Atmosphere Monitoring
55 Monitoring, identification, and quantifying of volatile organic compounds
(VOC).
55 Audible and visual alarms to alert crewmembers when concentrations of VOC’s
exceed maximum allowable levels.
55 Microbial decontamination capabilities.
55 Control of contamination events.
Cabin Ventilation
55 Ventilation to ensure thermal gradients maintained and contaminant buildup
reduced
55 Ventilation to ensure cooling
Air Revitalization
55 Maintaining carbon dioxide concentration
55 Reducing carbon dioxide concentration
55 Generating oxygen
Air Revitalization Technologies

Function Technology An explanation of all the candidate tech-
Carbon dioxide Lithium hydroxide nologies for achieving all the functions
concentration Four-bed molecular of atmosphere management is beyond
sieve the scope of this chapter (see 7 Chap.

Solid amine water 5 for a more detailed discussion of the

desorption ISS LSS subsystems and assemblies), so
Carbon dioxide Activated charcoal we will focus on select technologies such
reduction Sabatier as the four-bed molecular sieve (4BMS)
Bosch technology used on ISS (see . Fig. 3.9).

Oxygen Water vapor The 4BMS, which is a mature tech-

generation electrolysis nology, having first been used on Sky-
Solid polymer water lab, is a regenerable means of removing
electrolysis carbon dioxide and of maintaining
carbon dioxide concentration at toler-
Bioregenerative Life Support Systems
91 3
.. Fig. 3.9 Schematic of the four-bed molecular sieve that is part of the carbon dioxide
removal assembly (CDRA) on the ISS [16, 17]. This diagram shows one half-cycle of opera-
tion as follows: (1) Humid cabin air flows through the adsorbing desiccant bed. (2) Air is then
directed through a blower and precooler. (3) The air, which is now dry, is directed through
a zeolite sorbent bed which is where carbon dioxide is adsorbed. (4) The air is then directed
through the desorbing desiccant bed
able levels. A regenerable system such this system works well for short-dura-
as the 4BMS is different from a non- tion missions but not so well for mis-
regenerable process such as lithium sions longer than 2 weeks.
hydroxide, which you would find in an Obviously, the use of lithium
open-loop LSS (remember, the ISS LSS hydroxide won’t help LSS engineers
is classed as a partially closed-loop/ close the loop in a physicochemical LSS,
physicochemical LSS). The use of lith- but there is a system that will: the Saba-
ium hydroxide, the use of which goes tier process. Developed by Nobel Prize-
back to the Mercury era, removes car- winning French chemist Paul Sabatier in
bon dioxide from the spacecraft atmo- the early 1900s, the Sabatier process uses
sphere by directing carbon dioxide-rich a catalyst to react carbon dioxide and
air through a canister packed with hydrogen to produce water and methane,
lithium hydroxide granules. It requires thereby closing the oxygen and water
about 2 kilograms of lithium hydroxide loops. The system, which is currently in
to remove 1 kilogram of carbon dioxide operation on the ISS, is integrated with
(the daily output by a crewmember), so the oxygen generating system (OGS).
Bioregenerative Life Support Systems
While this book is being written, in mid-2020, space agencies are in the “picnic
approach” in LSS evolution, with most supplies needed for the mission being deliv-
ered by cargo resupply missions. This is because the ISS relies on the physicochemi-
cal system discussed in the previous section. But if astronauts are finally to embark
on missions beyond Earth orbit, regenerative life support systems must be devel-
.. Fig. 3.10 For life support systems to become truly closed, a bioregenerative system is the way to
go. Credit: NASA/Wheeler et al.
oped. The key difference between a physicochemical LSS and a bioregenerative

LSS (BLSS) is that a BLSS can produce food (. Fig. 3.10) in addition to all the

functions that can be accomplished by a physicochemical system.

In NASA’s Advanced Life Support Program, BLSS research is being conducted
to develop technologies that can help optimize biomass productivity (. Fig. 3.11),
recycle liquid and solid wastes, and build systems that will enable long-term opera-
tions [18, 19, 20]. Once these technologies have been developed, the transition from
the picnic approach to permanent recycling and independence from the resupply
chain will be complete.
As we shall see in 7 Chap. 8, growing food is the biggest technology gap in

developing a true BLSS, but experiments conducted on the ISS seem to be on

the right track, and researchers are slowly but surely gaining an understanding
of some of the basic processes of how plants grow in space. For example, such
experiments have revealed the underlying mechanisms of circumnutation, a circu-
lar movement of a growing stem. In space, studies of Arabidopsis have revealed
that patterns of root waving during sprouting are similar to patterns observed on
Earth, thereby showing that gravity does not exert a major effect on patterns of
root growth.
But the function of growing plants is not just to provide food for the crew.
Oxygenic photoautotrophic organisms also happen to be of benefit to the man-
agement of the atmosphere, the management of water, and the management of
waste. These plants not only produce food but also use up carbon dioxide created
by the astronauts, which is a win–win. Not only that, but plant transpiration can
be recovered by condensation and then directed into the water recovery system for
Controlled Ecological Life Support System
93 3
.. Fig. 3.11 The VEGGIE experiment, being tended to by Scott Tingle. Among the plants that have
been grown in this experiment are red lettuce, red Russian kale, Wasabi mustard, and extra dwarf pak
choi. Credit: NASA [21, 22]
processing before being used as potable water again. Plant biological processes can
also give a helping hand to the waste processing system by decreasing the mass and
volume of biodegradable elements.
So why don’t we have such a system on board the ISS? Engineering such a
system is deviously complex, as we shall see when we take a look at MeLiSSA in
7 Chap. 8. Building an efficient BLSS requires the very, very careful selection of

plants that can perform all those aforementioned LSS functions, and these plants
must be ecologically compatible not only with all the other organisms in the system
but also with the crew. Compounding the challenges in achieving this compatibility
is the absence of natural forces such as gravity, which means that all systems must
be under scrupulous control mechanisms. In 2020, a fully developed BLSS is a long
way away, but there is a development path toward achieving such a system, known
as the controlled ecological life support system (CELSS). CELSS is a pathfinder
program working toward the Holy Grail of a closed LSS.
The development and validation of CELSS technologies are still ongoing. One
aspect of that development is including humans in the loop. Such studies (most of
which have focused more on group interaction – or lack of it! – than life support
system function) have been carried out on a fairly regular basis over the years with
mixed results:
.. Fig. 3.12 The modules in which four crewmembers spent 180 days testing a CELSS. The habitat
was located at the Space Institute of Southern China, Shenzhen. Oxygen partial pressure ranged
from 18.6 to 26.7 kPa, and carbon dioxide concentration ranged from 300 to 700 ppm. The test took
place between 17 June 2016 and 14 December 2016. Credit: Chinese National Space Administration
[23, 24, 25, 26]
55 The HUBES (Human Behavior in Extended Spaceflight) study, September

1994 to January 1995 in Bergen, Norway – generally very successful
55 The SFINCSS-99 (Simulated Flight of International Crew on Space Station) –
blighted by sexual harassment, poor team cohesion, arguments with mission
control, etc.
55 The Mars500 boondoggle – a remarkably unremarkable study that revealed
nothing that couldn’t have been gleaned from a read of any one of Shackleton’s
logbooks!
A more recent study, which focused more on life support and less on crew discord,
conflict, and strife, was a 180-day Chinese CELSS study [23, 24, 25, 26] conducted
using a closed-loop system during a mid-mission simulation of a Mars mission.
The aim was to study the physiological and psychological effects when relying on
a closed-loop system, but we’ll focus on the physiological effects here. The habitat
(. Fig. 3.12) comprised six interconnected modules in which life support systems

were controlled automatically.

The habitat provided the Chinese crew of four (3 males and 1 female aged
34.2 ± 6.6 years, weight 64.5 ± 6.1 kilograms) with a luxurious 1340 m3 of habit-
able volume (the habitable volume of the ISS by comparison is 931 m3), of which
a whopping 888.5 m3 comprised greenhouses. Why so much space dedicated to
greenhouses? Because this crew had to meet their food needs autonomously.
During their time inside the habitat, the crew cultivated 25 types of plants, includ-
95 3
.. Fig. 3.13 Select results of the Chinese 18-day CELSS mission. Credit: Chinese National Space
Administration [23, 24, 25, 26]
ing potatoes, soybeans, lettuce, cabbage, cherry radish, and strawberries. They kept
themselves busy maintaining the LSS, looking after plants and general housekeep-
ing duties. During the simulated missions, 100 percent oxygen and 99 percent water
were regenerated in addition to 70 percent of food being grown (the remaining 30%
was stored prior to the start of the mission). The daily energy intake (35% fat, 50%
carbohydrate, 15% protein) of the crew was ~2600 kcal at the beginning of the mis-
sion and 2000 kcal at the end.
So what happened to the crew? Body weight decreased slightly (64 ± 7 kilo-
grams at the beginning vs. 61 ± 6 kilograms at the end), lean mass decreased (54 ±
8 kilograms at the beginning vs. 52 ± 8 kilograms at the end), and vitamin D levels
fell (. Fig. 3.13). Blood counts, renal function, and metabolism were all within

nominal states following the end of the mission.

So, the Chinese study represents a good start in the development of a closed
LSS, but does BLSS technology have to progress before we have such a system
integrated on a spaceship? There are a number of challenges ahead, some of which
are outlined here.
One such challenge is to create detailed environmental control algorithms to
improve system stability for tracking contaminants created by pathogenic microor-
ganisms [18]. A second hurdle is defining exactly how much space and resources are
required per crewmember for a BLSS/CELSS [25]. A third issue is to develop the
capability to track plant diseases and how to control these diseases. This is impor-
tant because a couple of crop-wrecking diseases can quickly result in loss of mis-
sion and loss of crew! Then there is the question of how to measure the balance of
nutrient cycling between food production and waste mineralization. For example,
what are the limits for waste composition for each plant?
Another area that has not been subject to much research is the use of aquatic
plants as food. Some aquatic plants are particularly fast growing and produce high
yields. Then there is the challenge of automation. Tending to plants is rather time-
intensive, so integrated control systems must be developed that are capable of not
only maintaining nominal conditions but also responding automatically to unex-
pected events. Let’s add to this list of challenges by adding the requirement to
3 determine nutrient management for crops and defining the processes required for
converting raw food into edible food (these processes will no doubt be affected by
microgravity) [27].
For many of these challenges, modeling can be used as a first step to test and
analyze system dynamics in response to the microgravity environment, but ulti-
mately because of the complexity of the natural feedback mechanisms in biological
systems, it is impossible to mathematically describe how a complex ecosystem such
as a CELSS would function in reality. Think about all the permutations involved –
mass transport such as advection and diffusion, mass balance, solar energy input,
temperature and humidity variations, chemical processes such as reaction kinetics,
enzymatic reactions, hydrolysis, ion exchange, and the list goes on. And on. And
we’re just talking about factors under nominal conditions. Once you’ve figured
how all these factors function nominally, you then have to predict what will happen
in myriad emergency scenarios. So, modeling can only do so much, no matter how
structurally dynamic those models are.
Ultimately, the only way to reliably test is to build a prototype and test this in
space. And remember, these tests will fall under the category of long-term experi-
ments, because a typical manned Mars mission is in the order of 30 months or
more. This time span is also necessary to capture true failure rates over the sys-
tem lifespan. But conducting these sorts of experiments with human operators is
time-intensive, and astronauts on board the ISS just don’t have the time to do this
because they’re too busy tending to the myriad maintenance issues of the LSS.
Given that the lifespan of the ISS extends to 2028, how will LSS engineers
be able to test the technologies required to develop a full-scale CELSS/BLSS? To
begin with, they will have to turn to terrestrial-based experiments. Unfortunately,
there are only seven facilities on the planet that can support integrated full-scale
LSS testing. And these facilities are big and extremely expensive and require a lot
of time and work to operate. How about testing small-scale CELSSs? Well, this
option has been pursued by ecologists for some time now, and these compact, con-
trollable, replicable ecosystems, or microcosms as they are called, have proven to
be a good way of testing complex system behavior on a budget. The problem with
using these microcosms is that they cannot serve as analogs for the real thing, as
you cannot trust that what happens in a scaled model is representative of what will
happen in a full-scale system. That is because processes change as scale changes!
And because processes change as scale changes, it is not possible to reliably apply
data from a microcosm to a large-scale CELSS.
In short, quantitative and systematic extrapolation will just not work. Instead,
the goal of any terrestrial experiment must be to ensure functional similarity in
ecological relationships within the CELSS. What does this mean? Experiments
97 3
must be long enough to ensure all processes can be observed. It means that all fac-
tors – water exchange, nutrient concentrations, water depth, light attenuation, and
ecological complexity, to name just a few – are controlled. To begin with, many of
these parameters can be tested in smaller closed ecological systems that can serve
as analogs. The purpose of these systems would be to generate baseline data that
can ultimately be applied to the full-scale systems that must eventually be tested for
the reasons stated previously.
The science of ecology is progressing in leaps and bounds, thanks to the observa-
tions made over decades of research at integrated test facilities. But ultimately, the
complexity of ecological system dynamics means that even with the most advanced
algorithms and modeling, it is not yet possible to predict how systems modeled on
the ground will work in space. To further develop the CELSS to the point where we
eventually have a working BLSS, what needs to be done? Well, engineers have to
develop systems that work with a higher reliability, the closed ecosystem must have
greater control, biological stability must be improved, and all these factors must be
tested at full-scale integrated LSS test facilities.
Key Terms
55 Baseline Values and Assumptions Document (BVAD)
55 Bed Molecular Sieve (BMS)
55 Bioregenerative Life Support System (BLSS)
55 Carbon Dioxide Removal Assembly (CDRA)
55 Closed Ecological Life Support System (CELSS)
55 Environmental Monitoring and Control (EMC)
55 Extravehicular Activity (EVA)
55 Oxygen Generating System (OGS)
55 Volatile Organic Compounds (VOC)
??Review Questions
1. What is the difference between an open-loop and a closed-loop life support
system?
2. Which type of life support system is on the ISS?
3. What is the difference between fail-safe and fail-operational?
4. List four interfaces of the EVA system.
5. What is EMC?
6. List four functions of the Atmosphere Control and Supply System.
7. What is CDRA?
8. How is 4BMS used?
9. What is the Sabatier process?
10. Describe four challenges in designing a CELSS.
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Suggested Reading
NASA. (2018, Jan). Life support baseline values and assumptions document, NASA/TP2015–
218570/REV1.
NASA. Human Integration Design Handbook (HIDH). NASA/SP-2010-3407/REV1, 06-05-2014.
101 4
Evolution and
Development of Life
Support Systems
STS-116 Mission specialist Christer Fugle-

sang is helped with his Advanced Crew Escape
Suit before entering Space Shuttle Discovery.
Credit: NASA/Amanda Diller

Contents
Introduction – 103
Mercury – 104
Mercury Life Support Subsystems – 105
Gemini – 110
rimary Oxygen Subsystem – 110
P
Water Management Subsystem – 112
Temperature Control Subsystem – 112
Suit Loop – 113
Storage of Cryogenic Liquids – 114
Physiological Measures – 114
EVA – 114
Apollo – 116
ommand Module ECS – 116
C
Lunar Module Environmental Control System – 123
Life Support System Issues – 124
Extravehicular Mobility Unit – 126
Space Shuttle – 140

ir Revitalization System – 140
A
Water Coolant Loop System – 142
Atmosphere Revitalization Pressure Control
System – 142
Active Thermal Control System – 143
Supply and Wastewater System (SWWS) – 144
Waste Collection System – 144
Airlock Support – 146
Extravehicular Activity Mobility Units and Crew
Altitude Protection System – 146
References – 149
Introduction
103 4
55 Describe the evolution of life support systems and subsystems across the Mer-
cury, Gemini, Apollo, and Space Shuttle Programs
55 Explain the function of each spacecraft life support subsystem in the Mercury,
Gemini, Apollo, and Space Shuttle Programs
55 Describe the life support system issues experienced during specific missions dur-
ing the Apollo Program
55 Describe the function of the components of the Extravehicular Mobility Unit
and the operational characteristics of the pressure garment assembly
55 Explain how the portable life support system performed its tasks
55 List the key portable life support system specifications
55 Describe the physiological measurements monitored during the Mercury, Gem-
ini, and Apollo missions
55 List some of the life support issues encountered during the Apollo program, and
list the corrective actions of each
Introduction
The first life support system designed to support a cosmonaut was that flown on
Yuri Gagarin’s Vostok spacecraft. But this wasn’t the first life support system to
be flown in space. For years preceding Gagarin’s flight, animals had been sent into
space. Before Gagarin’s flight, there was Laika, a mongrel pup, who flew into orbit
on board Sputnik 2. Because of the claustrophobic confines of the Sputnik 2 cap-
sule, the spacecraft’s crewmember could not be heavier than 7 kilograms. Ten dogs
that met the weight requirements were selected, but Laika was judged the calmest
and most photogenic!
As part of her training, Laika was taught to remain still in increasingly con-
fined cages in the weeks leading up to the mission. Unfortunately, due to the Soviet
government’s desire for a quick success, Laika’s life support system was not as rig-
orously tested as it should have been. She made it to space alive, but she didn’t have
much time to enjoy her time in space. The thermal control system failed, resulting
in Laika expiring from overheating after just 5 hours on orbit.
Before Laika, there were Tsygan and Dezikin, who flew suborbital flights.
Other countries had also launched animals into space, including the French, who
launched a cat by the name of Felicette, and the Americans, who launched a num-
ber of chimpanzees, the most famous being Ham. These animals were invaluable
test subjects for the astronauts who eventually flew in Mercury and subsequent
programs.
In these early programs, from Project Mercury to the Space Shuttle, life sup-
port systems were primarily open-loop, with few regenerable systems. But with
the advent of the International Space Station (ISS), design drivers changed
significantly. The ISS would require at least 20 years of continuous operation,
which meant engineers had to try to develop ways of increasing the closure of
the ISS life support system. How successful were they? Well, we’ll get to that in
104 Chapter 4 · Evolution and Development of Life Support Systems
7 Chap. 5. In this chapter, we will focus on the evolution of life support systems

(sticking with American systems to make this a little easier), starting with Project
Mercury.
Mercury
The launch of Sputnik on 4 October 1957 was the catalyst for creating Project
4 Mercury in 1958. This project included a series of one-man suborbital and LEO
missions. NASA selected seven test pilots as astronauts. Each astronaut was
between 35 and 40 years old, stood no taller than 180 cm, and was in excellent
health. The primary goal of Project Mercury was to place an astronaut in orbit and
return him safely. The first orbital flights were planned to last up to 4.5 hours [1].
Life support systems were developed by McDonnell Aircraft Corporation and the
Garrett Corporation, which subcontracted to McDonnell. The life support system
(LSS) for the Mercury capsule was designed to the following requirements:
(a) Provide metabolic oxygen, pressurization, and ventilation in the pressure suit
(. Fig. 4.1) and cabin for at least 28 flight hours.

.. Fig. 4.1 Mercury astronauts

wore a basic two-layer pressure
suit (the Navy Mark IV). Credit:
NASA
Mercury
105 4
( b) Maintain a cabin temperature between 50°F and 80°F.
(c) Remove carbon dioxide and water produced by the astronaut.
(d) Maintain comfortable humidity and temperature inside the pressure suit.
(e) Operate in microgravity and in high G conditions.
Mercury Life Support Subsystems
The system maintained a capsule pressure of 5 psi of pure oxygen. As a backup, the
astronaut wore a pressure suit. The LSS was operated automatically with a manual
control in the event of a malfunction. In essence, the Mercury LSS comprised just
two subsystems: the cabin system and the pressure suit system [2]. Oxygen was
stored in two spheres pressurized to 7500 psi. Each contained 4 pounds of oxygen,
which permitted a flight of up to 26 hours based on a consumption rate of 500
cc per minute and a cabin leakage rate of no more than 300 cc per minute. Each
oxygen container was fitted with a filler valve for servicing and a pressure trans-
ducer which provided data on the oxygen pressure [3, 4]. Coolant was provided by
a water tank that flowed into heat exchangers. Electrical power was a 115–volt 400
cycle AC.
A Regular Atmosphere or Pure Oxygen?

There was a lot of disagreement amongst life support engineers on the subject of
capsule atmosphere. Some engineers argued for a normal sea-level pressure while
others made the case for a pure oxygen atmosphere. The safer atmosphere was a
normal atmosphere because a high oxygen concentration represented a fire hazard
and can cause hyperoxia. The problem was that designing a normal atmosphere
capsule would have increased design complexity and also increased the risk of
hypoxia which would have required sensors to monitor the partial pressure of oxy-
gen. Ultimately, it was decided that the physiological risks of hypoxia were greater
than hyperoxia [5].
Pressure Suit
The pressure suit provided breathable oxygen, removed metabolic products, and
controlled temperature. The suit was connected to the LSS via an inlet connec-
tion at the torso and an exit connection on the helmet (. Figs. 4.2, 4.3, and 4.4).

Oxygen was circulated inside the suit by a compressor. To remove carbon diox-
ide and waste products, gas was directed through a solid trap to remove particles
and then through a chemical canister to remove the carbon dioxide [5, 6]. Finally,
the gas was directed through a heat exchanger, which cooled the gas to 45°F –
cool enough for water vapor to condense into droplets. These droplets were then
directed into a water separator. Suit pressure was maintained by a pressure regula-
tor, which metered oxygen into the suit circuit. In the event of pressure failure, a
sensor directed extra oxygen into the suit at a pressure of 0.05 pounds per minute.
.. Fig. 4.2 Each suit was

custom-made for each astro-
naut. The suit, which covered
all the body except the head and
hands, comprised two layers: an
inner gas retention material of
neoprene and an outer layer of
heat-reflective, aluminized nylon.
Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 4.3 The ventilation inlet

port was located just above the
astronaut’s waist. The port con-
nected to a manifold inside the
suit, from which tubes led to the
upper and lower body. Credit:
NASA
Cabin Control System

The cabin control system controlled pressure and temperature [1, 2]. The upper
limit of cabin pressurization was controlled by a relief valve, which operated
automatically. In the event of a fire or a release of toxic gas, the cabin could be
manually decompressed using a control handle located on the instrument panel.
Oxygen was provided from a 1-pound container pressurized to 7500 psi. A visual
indication of the oxygen pressure was provided to the astronaut via light on a
sequence panel. Safety valves fitted with pressure sensors ensured that oxygen
pressure did not fall below 4 psi. Cabin temperature was maintained by a heat
exchanger [1, 2].
Mercury
107 4
.. Fig. 4.4 The bioconnector. This feature enabled biomedical leads to pass through the suit. Credit:
NASA
Instrumentation
The LSS was located in the upper right-hand corner of the instrument panel,
which provided information on cabin pressure, humidity, oxygen partial pressure,
primary and emergency oxygen supply pressure, and carbon dioxide partial pres-
sure. Next to this panel was a warning light panel that provided auditory and visual
warnings in the event of a system failure. Warning lights were provided for loss
of pressure, depletion of oxygen, decrease in oxygen partial pressure below 3 psi,
increase in carbon dioxide partial pressure above 3 percent in the pressure suit,
and excessive cooling water to the suit [1, 2]. On the left of the console, there were
controls for cabin decompression and repressurization.
System Operation
During launch, the astronaut was coupled to the pressure suit control system with
visor down. Freon was directed into the heat exchangers for cooling. During flight,
the cabin was purged by the launch supply, and cabin pressure was normalized at
5 psi. If oxygen partial pressure was adequate, the astronaut could open the visor.
In preparation for reentry, the cabin was precooled by opening the heat exchanger
water control valves [1, 2]. Following reentry, once a breathable external atmo-
sphere was reached, a snorkel provided ambient air for breathing.
Medical Support
Medical support was divided across three areas of responsibility: medi-
cal maintenance of astronauts, preflight and inflight assessment of astro-
naut health, and postflight evaluation of astronaut response to spaceflight.
Predictive values for physiological data during spaceflight were derived from
centrifuge runs, flight simulations, and data from flights in high-performance
.. Fig. 4.5 Electrode placement

during Project Mercury. Credit:
NASA
aircraft [7]. It was decided that spaceflight required continuous monitoring of

physiological data, which was achieved by using a suite of noninvasive bioin-
strumentation sensors (. Fig. 4.5). Body temperature was measured rectally

on all missions except the final mission; on this mission, Gordon Cooper used
a thermistor [8]. Inflight blood pressure data was not technically feasible dur-
ing the first four missions, but was measured during the MA-8 and MA-9
flights, which also featured an impedance pneumograph system that measured
respiration rates [9, 10, 11]. Electrocardiograph data was obtained, thanks to
an electrocardiogram electrode designed specifically for Project Mercury. Body
weight was measured preflight and postflight. Measurements were taken nude
with empty bladder [8].
In addition to the suite of sensors that provided data inflight, astronauts were
subjected to myriad tests postflight which included urine tests, blood chemistry
analysis, vital signs (heart rate, respiration, and blood pressure), body mass, body
fluid volume, and body weight.
Physiological Measurements
The biomedical assessment of Project Mercury was that humans could function
in space for flight durations that exceeded 1 day. The data can be best divided into
inflight and postflight (. Tables 4.1 and 4.2) as follows:

Inflight
Generally, heart rates were higher than those reported in centrifuge runs, while
respiration rates were higher during lift-off than in simulations. Blood pressure
data was similar to what had been observed in preflight simulations, and changes
in blood pressure were consistent with reported weight loss. A general observation
Mercury
109 4
.. Table 4.1 Preflight and postflight temperature and heart rate data
Flight Temperature (°F) Heart rate (bpm)
Preflight Postflight Change Preflight Postflight Change
MR-3 99.0 100.2 1.2 68 76 8

MR-4 97.8 100.4 2.6 68 90 22
MA-6 98.2 99.2 1.0 68 76 8
MA-7 97.2 97.6 0.4 60 78 18
MA-8 97.6 99.4 1.8 72 92 20
MA-9 97.4 99.4 2.0 76 86 10
.. Table 4.2 Preflight and postflight weight loss
Flight Weight (kg) % weight loss

Preflight Postflight Change
MR-3 76.79 75.70 −1.09 1.42

MR-4 68.27 66.80 −1.47 2.15
MA-6 77.79 75.30 −2.49 3.20
MA-7 69.85 67.10 −2.75 3.94
MA-8 80.19 78.20 −1.99 2.48
MA-9 66.68 63.20 −3.48 5.22
was a decrease in systolic pressure which was aligned with an increase in heart rate.
The most marked cardiovascular response to spaceflight was observed following
Gordon Cooper’s flight; following egress of the spacecraft, the astronaut became
presyncopal while standing. In Cooper’s case, his pulse pressure narrowed, and
his mean arterial pressure fell, which are symptoms of orthostatic intolerance (OI).
What is orthostatic intolerance? One consequence of being weightless is a fluid shift
of up to 2 liters from the lower extremities to the upper extremities due to reduced
gravity. And when astronauts return to Earth, all that fluid rushes back from the
upper extremities to the lower extremities. This causes astronauts to feel faint and
“orthostatically intolerant.” All Mercury astronauts lost weight during their flights
(. Table 4.3), and the amount of weight loss (between 1.1 and 3.5 kg or between

.. Table 4.3 Project Mercury missions
Mission Date Flight duration Weightless time # Earth Pilot

(h/min/s) (h/min/s) orbits
MR-3 5/5/1961 15:28 5:04 0 A.B. Shepard

MR-4 7/21/1961 15:37 5:00 0 V.I. Grissom
4 MA-6 2/20/1962 4:55:23 4:38:00 3 J.H. Glenn

MA-7 5/24/1962 4:56:05 4:39:00 3 M.S. Carpenter
MA-8 10/3/1962 9:13:11 8:56:22 6 W.M. Schirra
MA-9 5/15/1963 34:19:49 34:03:30 22 L.G. Cooper
1.4 and 5.2 percent of body weight) was proportional to the length of the flight.
Urine volume, which was measured in MR-4, MA-6, MA-7, and MA-9, revealed an
excretion rate of between 30 mL per hour for the MA-9 pilot and 155 mL per hour
for the MA-7 pilot, these amounts being consistent with fluid intake [9, 10, 11, 12].
When the six Mercury astronauts ventured into the unknown and dangerous
environment of space, no established physiological values for spaceflight existed.
Neither did proven methods for determining threshold tolerances. But Project
Mercury demonstrated that humans could function in space without significant
deterioration of physiological function. The Mercury missions were short but pro-
vided flight surgeons and life support engineers with a wealth of data for the fol-
lowing program: Project Gemini.
Gemini
The Gemini LSS, which provided life support for two astronauts, was divided into
four subsystems: an oxygen supply subsystem, a water management subsystem, a
cooling subsystem, and a suit loop. This LSS provided oxygen for the pressure suits
and for cabin pressurization, it removed carbon dioxide and moisture from the suit
and the cabin, and it provided for the storage and disposal of water [13].
Primary Oxygen Subsystem
This subsystem stored and provided oxygen for breathing for the pressure suit and
cabin. Oxygen pressure in the cabin was maintained by a cabin pressure relief valve.
The oxygen capacity for a 2-day mission was 15.3 pounds. Stored cryogenically in a
spherical container, the oxygen was heated to a gas using a heat exchanger. Carbon
dioxide was adsorbed using a cartridge that removed odors and up to 11 pounds
of carbon dioxide. In the event of a decompression, the oxygen supply was turned
off automatically when the pressure reached 4 psi and the pressure suit maintained
Gemini
111 4
.. Fig. 4.6 Gemini ejection seat assembly. Credit: NASA
pressure [13]. The secondary oxygen subsystem, which comprised two tanks, pro-
vided an oxygen flow of 0.08 pounds per minute to each astronaut. The subsystem
was triggered when pressure in the primary oxygen subsystem fell below 75 psi. A
third oxygen subsystem was the Egress Oxygen Subsystem, which provided oxygen
for breathing in the event of an ejection (the Gemini spacecraft was one of the only
two spacecraft fitted with ejection seats (. Fig. 4.6), the other being the Columbia

Space Shuttle). This subsystem contained one-third of a pound of oxygen and was
activated manually following ejection.
Water Management Subsystem
This subsystem collected and stored water for drinking and cooling. It comprised
water tanks, urine receptacle, drinking nozzle, reservoir, evaporator, and water
pressure regulator. One water tank, which held 16 pounds of water, was located
in the equipment section of the spacecraft (. Fig. 4.7). A second tank, which also

contained 16 pounds of water, was located in the reentry module, and another
7 pounds of water was located in the heat exchanger reservoir. Water was forced
4 through the subsystem by diaphragms pressurized by oxygen.
Temperature Control Subsystem
This subsystem maintained cabin temperature, suit temperature, and equipment

temperature. The Gemini spacecraft generated three times as much heat as the
Mercury spacecraft and did so for almost ten times as long. Because of this, engi-
neers had to devise a better way to reject heat. To do this, they developed a space
radiator which effectively comprised the entire skin of the adapter module. The
system worked by pumping coolant fluid (a silicon ester fluid – Monsanto MCS
198) from a reservoir, through coolant lines and regenerative heat exchangers. The
coolant circuit followed two parallel paths, one for the suit and one for the cabin.
Temperature-sensitive valves maintained the outlet coolant between 36°F and
42°F. When the temperature fell below 36°F, coolant was simply directed to the
regenerative heat exchanger, and when the temperature exceeded 42°F, the coolant
was directed to the space radiator.
.. Fig. 4.7 Arrangement and location of equipment in the Gemini spacecraft. Credit: NASA
Gemini
113 4
Suit Loop
Astronauts were provided with a redundant atmosphere, thanks to a closed-

pressure suit circuit that provided cooling, pressurization, purification, and
removal of water. The suit loop circulated oxygen through the suit (. Fig. 4.8) and

removed carbon dioxide using charcoal and lithium hydroxide. The suit loop had
two modes of operation, normal circulation and high-rate mode, which pumped
oxygen directly into the suit.
The suit loop, which was a major improvement on the Mercury system, com-
prised two suit pressure demand regulator valves, four check valves, two throttle
valves, a system shutoff, two compressors, a heat exchanger, and a carbon dioxide
absorber. In operation, the demand regulator maintained suit pressure at 3.7 psi
unless suit pressure was lost, in which case the suit circuit switched to high rate of
operation, which enabled an oxygen flow rate of 0.08 pounds of oxygen per astro-
naut until suit pressure was restored. Once suit circuit pressure was restored, the
high rate of operation shut-off valve was reset manually.
.. Fig. 4.8 Gemini III astro-

nauts, Gus Grissom and John
Young wearing their David Clark
G3C suits. The G3C was the first
of three suits (. Table 4.4) used

in the Gemini Program. Credit:

NASA
114
Chapter 4 · Evolution and Development of Life Support Systems
.. Table 4.4 Gemini Program space suits
Gemini G3C space suit Gemini G4C space suit Gemini G5C space suit
Missions Gemini 3, 6, and 8 Gemini 4–6, 8–12 Gemini 7

Ejection
Intravehicular
4 activity (IVA)
Extravehicular
activity (EVA)
Suit weight 10.7 kg 15.4 kg 17.3 kg
Storage of Cryogenic Liquids
Oxygen, which was stored in a cryogenic state on board the Gemini spacecraft,
comprised a subsystem that weighed about four-tenths a pound for each pound
of oxygen stored. This was a significant improvement over the pressurized system
used in Mercury.
Physiological Measures
During the Gemini Program, emphasis was placed on the performance of the car-
diovascular and musculoskeletal systems. Analysis of this data revealed no serious
performance issues related to these areas or in areas such as vision or disorienta-
tion (. Table 4.5).

One notable observation was the time course of decrements. Peak decrements
observed in the 8-day flight were significantly lower in the 14-day flight, which
indicated astronauts were adapting to the microgravity environment. Having said
that, it was not possible to rule out mission variables such as diet and fluid intake
as having an impact on this adaptation. Anomalies in cardiovascular function were
observed, as expected, but these variations were considered within the envelope
of normality when the effects of acceleration and weightlessness were considered.
EVA
The major concern of biomedical scientists during the Gemini Program was astro-
naut health in the performance of extravehicular activities. From the biomedical
perspective, the success of a spacewalk really came down to the ability of the suit to
provide oxygen, maintain suit pressure, maintain temperature and humidity, and at
the same time provide adequate body–joint mobility, flexibility, and dexterity. The
Gemini EVA suit (. Fig. 4.9) comprised a multilayer fabric system that included

a comfort liner, a gas bladder, a structural restraint, and an outer protective layer.
Gemini
115 4
.. Table 4.5 Predictions and observations of human response to spaceflight during the
Gemini Program [14]
Predicted Observed Predicted Observed
Electromechanical delay in None Stimulant need Occasionally before

cardiac cycle reentry
Reduced exercise capacity None Infectious disease None
Fatigue Minimal
Reduced blood volume Moderate Circadian rhythms No disruption
Reduced plasma volume Minimal
Dehydration Minimal Skin infections and Dryness, including
breakdown dandruff
Weight loss Variable
Bone loss Minimal Sleeplessness Minor
Loss of appetite Minimal
Nausea None Reduced visual acuity None
Muscular incoordination None Disorientation and None
motion sickness
Muscular atrophy None
Hallucinations None
Euphoria None
Psychomotor performance Not Cardiac arrhythmias None
impaired
High blood pressure None
Sedative need None Low blood pressure None
Fainting postflight None
Inside the suit, oxygen was directed for consumption and thermal control using a
gas distribution system. Environmental control of the suit’s LSS was provided via an
extravehicular LSS that comprised a chest pack, together with hoses and connectors
for inlet and output of gases. On the whole, the suit performed well, although there
was a tendency for astronauts to become overheated, and astronauts complained
of the equipment packages being too bulky. Another problem was exhaustion,
which was reported by astronauts conducting spacewalks during the Gemini 9A and
Gemini 11 flights. A part of the reason the astronauts became fatigued was attrib-
uted to lack of sleep, lack of adequate training, and exhaustive preflight training [14].
The Gemini flights demonstrated the successful operation of the life support
systems for flights approaching 14 days. No significant problems were identified in
any of the subsystems, and astronauts reported no problems when drinking, eat-
ing, or performing bodily functions. Data also revealed there were no indications
that contaminants or radiation reached significant levels. These findings, which are
summarised in NASA document SP-4213 (7 Chap. 7), provided LSS engineers

with a solid foundation to develop the LSS of the subsequent program: Apollo.
.. Fig. 4.9 Gemini 4. Ed White

making the first spacewalk by an
American on 3 June 1965. The
EVA lasted 23 minutes. Credit:
NASA (the photo was taken
by Gemini 4 Commander, Jim
McDivitt)
Apollo
The Apollo environment control system comprised two environment control sys-
tems (ECS): one for the Command Module and one for the Lunar Module.
Command Module ECS

This life support system (. Fig. 4.10) functions can be summarized as follows:

1. Oxygen atmosphere maintained at 5 psia

2. Astronauts to work in shirt-sleeve mode except for critical mission phases
3. Cabin pressure maintained at 3.5 psia under defined emergency conditions
4. Carbon dioxide (CO2) removal by lithium hydroxide (LiOH) absorption and
limited to a partial pressure of 7.6 mm Hg
5. Cabin temperature maintained at 75° ± 5°F with relative humidity limited to
40 to 70 percent
6. Thermal control provided for the electrical and electronic equipment
To accomplish these functions, the ECS comprised six subsystems as follows:

1. Oxygen
2. Pressure suit circuit
3. Water
4. Coolant
5. Waste management
6. Postlanding ventilation
Apollo
117 4
.. Fig. 4.10 Schematic showing
features of the Apollo Command
Module’s ECS. Credit: NASA
Oxygen Subsystem
This subsystem, which controlled the distribution of oxygen inside the Command
Module (CM), was supplied from the Service Module (SM) cryogenic tanks [15]. It
had the following functions:
1. Storage of a reserve oxygen supply
2. Regulation of oxygen pressure inside the CM
3. Controlling CM cabin pressure
4. Controlling CM cabin pressure in emergency mode
5. Purging of the pressure suit circuit
The oxygen capacity of this subsystem was 78 kilograms for a 14-day mission (820
grams per astronaut for consumption and 2.18 kilograms for cabin leakage, with
additional allowance for EVAs), although the actual usage was lower because of
lower than anticipated cabin leakage (. Tables 4.6 and 4.7). This subsystem per-

formed well across all the Apollo missions, as evidenced by the fact that no emer-
gency cabin pressure regulation was required and all planned depressurizations
and repressurizations were completed successfully [15].
.. Table 4.6 Apollo Command Module oxygen consumption [16]
Item Specification requirement (14 days) Apollo 15 mission (12.3 days)
Kg (lb) kg (lb)
Crew consumption 34.29 (75.6) 22.09 (48.7)

Cabin leakage 30.48 (67.2) 2.68 (5.9)
4 Cabin repressurizations 5.31 (11.7) 4.08 (9.0)
One CM puncture 1.63 (3.6) - .
LM support 6.58 (14.5) 5.94 (13.1)
Tank bleeds . . 4.45 (9.8)
Cabin and WMS purges . . 3.49 (7.7)
EVA flow . . 6.67 (14.7)
Totals 78.29 (172.6) 49.40 (108.9)
.. Table 4.7 Actual ECS oxygen consumption across all missions [16]
Apollo mission Duration Oxygen consumed

days/hours kg
7 10:20 46.26
8 6:03 23.13
9 10:01 44.91
10 8:00 32.21
11 8:03 37.19
12 10:05 44.91
13 5:23 13.61
14 9:00 42.64*
15 12:07 49.44**
16 11:02 48.08**
17 12:14 49.90**
*Includes 4.5 kg for high flow demonstration test of cryogenic system

**Includes 11 to 13 kg for EVA flow and cabin repressurization
Apollo
119 4
Pressure Suit Circuit
This second subsystem provided the following functions:
1. Provided the astronauts with a conditioned atmosphere
2. Controlled suit gas circulation automatically
3. Controlled temperature
4. Removed debris
5. Removed moisture and odors
6. Removed carbon dioxide from the cabin and the suit
This subsystem performed well across all missions. Pressure regulation was main-
tained within the required 3.5–4 psia range. The atmosphere in the CM was
60 percent oxygen and 40 percent nitrogen mix with the suit circuit at 100 percent
oxygen. Pressure sensors indicated suit-to-cabin differentials, and a valve was used
to ensure a constant flow of 0.23 to 0.32 kilograms of oxygen per hour. Carbon
dioxide was removed by lithium hydroxide absorber elements capable of removing
carbon dioxide at a rate of 0.064 kilograms per hour for 24 hours. Two of these
systems operated in parallel and maintained the carbon dioxide partial pressure
below 7.6 mm Hg. When all three astronauts were living in the spacecraft, the ele-
ments were changed every 24 hours [15].
Water Subsystem
The water subsystem:
1. Received potable water, which was produced as a by-product of operating the
fuel cells
2. Stored water
3. Chilled and heated the water
4. Included a wastewater section which collected and stored water that was
extracted from the suit heat exchanger
5. Dumped water that was excess to system requirements
This subsystem managed between 180 and 225 kilograms of water. The fuel cell
production rate of 0.68 to 0.91 kilograms per hour far exceeded crew requirements,
which led to most of the water being dumped overboard. The water balance for
Apollo 15 is presented in . Table 4.8.

One improvement the astronauts appreciated was hot water, although this par-
ticular function was the source of some negative comments from the crew because
the system had a habit of introducing gas into the water. One cause of the gas
was fuel cell operation, because water produced by the system was saturated with
hydrogen gas. On Apollo 12, and subsequent missions, this gas was removed by
passing the water through a hydrogen separator. Another source was oxygen in the
bladder for storing water. This bladder had to be pressurized to expel water, but
oxygen permeated the bladder material with the result that bubbles formed in the
food bags. This problem was solved in time for the Apollo 11 mission by installing
a gas separator cartridge. Water sterility was achieved using a chlorine solution
contained in Teflon ampoules [15].
.. Table 4.8 ECS water balance for Apollo 15 [16]
Initial onboard water Kilograms

Potable water 13.15
Wastewater 12.25
Subtotals 25.40
4 Fuel cell production 235.57

LiOH reaction 12.25
Metabolic oxidation 11.79
Subtotals 259.91
Potable tank 14.06
Waste tank 23.13
Body wastewater 43.09
Evaporator operation 3.63
Waste tank 191.42
Potable tank 7.26
URA flushing and samples 2.72
Subtotals 248.12
Coolant Subsystem
The coolant subsystem:
1. Comprised a water/ethylene glycol coolant
2. Supplied cooling for the pressure suit circuit
3. Provided a potable water chiller
4. Supplied heating and cooling for the cabin atmosphere
5. Provided a heat rejection mechanism via primary and secondary coolant loops
This subsystem maintained adequate thermal control throughout all missions. Part
of this control was achieved using a slow, controlled roll of the CM (also called the
barbecue maneuver) that ensured the radiator outlet temperature rarely exceeded
10° C. The coldest coolant was passed through the suit heat exchanger to ensure
gas cooling and removal of condensate. Typical heat load and rejection required
between 1170 and 1470 watts.
Waste Management
The waste management subsystem:
1. Permitted the dumping overboard of urine
2. Stored and vented solid waste
Apollo
121 4
Waste management was and still is one of the most bothersome challenges of
manned spaceflight. Before Apollo 12, astronauts used a urine transfer system
(UTS) comprising a rubber cuff connected to a flexible collection bag. Following
Apollo 12, a urine collection and receptacle assembly (UCTA) was used, as depicted
in . Fig. 4.11. In addition to sampling myriad physiological metrics, flight sur-

geons also sampled urine output (. Table 4.9).
When astronauts wore space suits during EVAs, the UCTA was worn
(. Fig. 4.12) over the liquid cooling garment. When it came to dealing with solid

waste, astronauts relied on a plastic bag that was taped (using Stomaseal tape) to
the nether regions to capture waste. After completing his ablutions, the astronaut
sealed the bag and kneaded it to mix bactericide with the contents. During surface
operations, the bag fecal collection system was not feasible, so a pair of astronaut
diapers were used [15].
From an engineering perspective, the Apollo waste management system worked
fairly well, but astronauts didn’t give the system many favorable reviews. One recur-
ring problem was the amount of manipulation required to operate the system, and
another issue was the frequency of urine spills caused by the challenges of manipu-
lation. More challenges were presented when using the fecal bags, which required
unique skillsets to prevent accidental release of the bag’s contents! Another com-
plaint leveled at fecal bag operation was the amount of time required – 45 minutes
on a good day – to accomplish the process [15]. Following several complaints from
Apollo astronauts, attempts were made to upgrade the system for the Apollo 16
crew, but these attempts were judged by the crew of that mission to have failed.
.. Fig. 4.11 The urine receptacle assembly. Credit: NASA

.. Table 4.9 Apollo 17 urine sampling data [16]
Crewman Time of sampling (ground elapsed time (GET))
Preflight, predicted Actual Sample Calculated pooling

(hr/min) (hr/min) volume (ml) volume (ml)
CMP 18:30 18:50 110.7 1154
4 35:00 34:36 85.5 811

58:45 58:22 91.0 1875
83:30 83:22 89.9 1034
107:00 110:00 83.2 1500
133:00 133:00 86.3 769
156:10 156:10 74.8 1667
180:45 180:40 104.9 2000
208:00 208:30 70.4 1500
230:25 230:28 84.0 1200
252:50 252:45 93.7 1304
276:50 276:30 89.8 938
300:30 299:50 116.1 1667
LMP 18:30 18:30 84.8 750
35:00 34:40 78.8 448
58:45 58:20 118.0 789
83:30 83:20 74.8 789
107:00 110:00 78.8 1250
230:25 230:30 71.9 714
252:50 252:15 80.9 1111
276:50 276:25 87.1 1304
300:30 300:15 104.7 1579
CDR 18:30 18:46 82.0 395
35:00 34:40 38.7 337
58:45 58:10 94.0 750
83:30 83:15 60.1 652
107:00 110:00 71.1 938
230:25 230:28 90.2 1000
252:50 252:50 98.9 1429
276:50 276:30 108.6 1154
300:30 299:52 137.3 2500
Apollo
123 4
.. Fig. 4.12 The UCTA. Credit: NASA
Lunar Module Environmental Control System
The Lunar Module (LM) ECS comprised four subsystems:

1. Atmosphere revitalization
2. Oxygen supply and cabin pressure control
3. Water management
4. Heat transport
Atmosphere Revitalization System (ARS)

This subsystem comprised a suit circuit and a suit liquid cooling assembly. The suit
circuit assembly, which comprised a closed-loop system that cooled and provided
ventilation for the pressure garment assemblies, worked in tandem with the suit
liquid cooling assembly that circulated water through the liquid cooling garment
and also helped remove dust from the LM’s cabin [17].
Oxygen Supply and Cabin Pressure Control Section (OSCPCS)

The OSCPCS (. Fig. 4.13) stored oxygen and supplied oxygen to the suit circuit,

the cabin, and also the portable life support system (PLSS). This subsystem was
also responsible for maintaining cabin pressure [17]. Following transposition and
docking, the LM was pressurized and pressure decay was monitored. Between
Apollo 11 and 17, the leak rate was between 0.03 and 0.05 pounds per hour (the
maximum allowable leak rate was 0.2 pounds per hour). The amount of oxygen
consumed during the Apollo 17 mission was 46.2 pounds (the flight prediction had
calculated 45.5 pounds).
.. Fig. 4.13 The OSCPCS. Credit: NASA
Water Management System (WMS)

The WMS supplied potable water for the crew and also refilling of the PLSS water
tank. Another function of this system was cooling the pressure garment assemblies,
the cabin, and the electronic equipment. It achieved this function using heat trans-
port section sublimators, which comprised coolant loops through which water and
ethylene glycol were routed. Typical water consumption for a mission was about
400 pounds, of which 2.3 pounds was used for filling the sublimator, 10 pounds was
used for refilling the PLSS, and 8 pounds was used for metabolic waste [17]. The
process of dealing with waste on the LM was different than on the CM because
there was no dumping of waste on the lunar surface (imagine the media blitz if
that had happened!). Instead, the astronaut relied on in-suit urine containers and a
urine transfer hose to drain the urine into a waste fluid container.
Life Support System Issues
It was Apollo 13 that perhaps more than any other mission put the spotlight on
the limitations and versatility that was the Apollo Program’s LSS. Apollo 13 was
aborted 56 hours after launch, when the oxygen supply in the Service Module
Apollo
125 4
.. Fig. 4.14 “Houston, we have a solution!” How the Apollo 13 crew solved the carbon dioxide
removal problem – actually, it was the engineers in the Mission Evaluation Room that solved the
problem and then sent up the solution to the astronauts. Credit: NASA
(SM) was lost and the CM’s ECS no longer had a supply of oxygen, water, or
electrical power. To preserve what little life support consumables the crew had,
the repressurization package tanks were isolated, the water tanks were depres-
surized, and the CM was powered down. The crew moved into the LM, which
served as a lifeboat for the remaining 83 hours (twice the intended limits of the
LM) of the mission. Once the transfer to the LM had been completed, issues
started to arise immediately. Power levels had to be conserved to limit heat loads,
and water consumption rate had to be limited to reduce thermal loading. Since
there were not enough lithium hydroxide canisters in the LM, the crew had to
cobble together and engineer a system (. Fig. 4.14) to scrub carbon dioxide

using space suit return hoses taped to plenum chambers (using duct tape - any
drama always includes duct tape!). This system was used for almost 2 days until
the CM was reactivated and the LM jettisoned.
Dust
Dust (. Fig. 4.15) was a major life support concern (other concerns are listed in

. Table 4.10) throughout Apollo surface operations. Despite the best efforts of

the LM astronauts, contamination of the CM occurred after every surface stay.

Filters were developed to speed up the capture of lunar contaminants, handheld
vacuum cleaners were used, and continuous cycling of cabin gas was tried, but all
to no avail.
4
Extravehicular Mobility Unit
The Apollo Extravehicular Mobility Unit (EMU) was designed for a unique
set of tasks, one of which was the exploration of the lunar surface. The EMU
(. Fig. 4.16), which comprised a pressure garment assembly (PGA) and a PLSS,

enabled traverses of up to 7 hours to be made across the lunar surface. What fol-
lows here is a description of the EMU used on the Apollo 11 mission.
Pressure Garment Assembly

The PGA (. Table 4.11) was designed as an IVA configuration, which was worn

by the CM pilot, and as an EVA configuration, which was worn by the commander
and LM pilot [15]. Both versions comprised a torso–limb suit assembly (TLSA), an
over layer, a helmet, gloves, controls, and an instrumentation and communication
equipment (. Fig. 4.17).

.. Fig. 4.15 Last man on the

Moon, Gene Cernan, covered in
lunar regolith. Credit: NASA
.. Table 4.10 Apollo mission problem summary [16]
Apollo
Problem description Apollo Cause Mission impact Corrective action Recommendation for future
mission systems design
Oxygen subsystem
High oxygen flow Most Manual overboard dump Increased O2 usage None Include time-to-close feature
(procedural error) valve remained open in manual purge valves
Slow oxygen tank 9 Valve indicator None Preflight inspection Include greater detent
repressurization misaligned – valve identification or integral
partially closed position indicators
Cabin fans
(a) Noisy All Lack of noise Discontinued most fan None Add acoustical design
suppression use requirements
Failed to operate 9 Foreign objects in fan . Inspection Protect fan inlet and outlet
area with screens
Discrepant CM/LM 15 Valve position arrow Confusion during Metalcal arrow Design indicators into manual
[delta] gage readings chipped off integrity check substituted devices
Pressure suit circuit subsystem
Return filter screen All Cabin debris from Required daily crew Incorporated in crew Design filters for accessible
partially plugged manner operations cleaning procedures cleaning or replacement
127
Free water in suit 7; 15 Prelaunch degradation None (droplets minor) Improved servicing Minimize the use of sintered
hoses of suit heat exchanger techniques plates or design for in place
condensate flow restoration to original
(continued)
4
4
128
LiOH elements 16 Adverse operating None Preflight fit check Design for contingency
sticking in ECU conditions – temp requirements tightened, conditions, use automatic
canister control failure and flow crew procedures revised valves to minimize crew
valves mispositioned operation
Coolant subsystem
Evaporator dry out 7, 8, 9 Wick sensor location not Manual reservicing Removed sponges Adequately develop test
representative of wick required locally near sensors liquid systems in six axes to
wetness verify operation in zero
gravity
Evaporator dry out 10 Micro switch Manual reservicing Added preflight Limit switches should be
maladjustment required inspection individually verified after
installation
Condensation on cold All Lines not fully insulated None Increased line insulation Provide adequate insulation
coolant lines for lines operating below dew
point. Locate coldest lines
away from electronics if
possible
Primary accumulator 11 Valve not fully closed None None Provide greater detents,
quantity decayed due to excessive knob eliminate all play between
play knob and valve
Glycol temperature 11 Bearing failure in None (recovered None Use limit switches on control
exceeded control control valve drive satisfactorily) valves to prevent continuous
tolerance mechanism drive signals when valves are
on end stops
Coolant subsystem (continued)
Apollo
Higher than expected 15 Lunar attitude holds and Increased cabin None (launch Protect thermal coatings from
radiator outlet possible radiator coating condensation am procedures unique to mission contamination if
temperatures degradation during excessive temperature Apollo 15) possible. Configure for
launch excursions minimum attitude hold
impact
Glycol temperature 16 Silicon controlled Manual control required Controllers screened to Include proper part derating
controller failed in rectifiers (SCR) turned with increased determine condition of and part application in
automatic mode on without a gate drive condensation and LiOH SCRs electronics design phase
signal element swelling
Water subsystem
Gas in potable water All Fuel cell carrier gas and Crew discomfort Added hydrogen Eliminate bladder and gas
bladder permeability separator and gas blanket type tanks, provide
separator cartridge adequate gas separators
assemblies
Hot water valve 12, 14 Tolerance buildup with None Added hot water Provide system checkout in all
leakage heated water expulsion tests operational modes
Potable water tank 15 Contamination on check None None Verify system cleanliness and
failed to fill valve seat filter all fluids entering the
spacecraft
(continued)
4 129
4
130
Water subsystem (continued)

Chlorine and buffer 15, 16, Inner bag breakage due Required additional Added inspection Provide automatic or
ampoules leaked 17 to bonding problems crew time and cleanup requirements and semiautomatic systems to
when injected and pinching between revised crew procedures reduce crew operation
wall and end plate
Waste management subsystem
Urine filters partially 12 Urine breakdown due to Required replacement Revised crew Anticipate contingency
clogged overnight storage with spares procedures; added requirements during initial
larger filter for mission design
requiring storage
Urine dump line 14 Undetermined Urine Revised crew procedures Minimize lengths of dump
partially frozen backup – temporary to minimize flush and lines, provide adequate heater
blockage require gas purge and orifice sizes
Miscellaneous
Vacuum cleaner failed 16 Dust accumulation Cleanup time Revised crew procedures Adequately protect all fans
to operate between turbine wheel lengthened with filters

and housing
Instrumentation Many Contamination, Backup instrumentation Internal epoxy coating Protect pressure sensors with
calibration shifts, internally and externally utilized, flight added, inlet filters filters including static sense
erratic operations, and generated, corrosion, procedures modified provided, corrosion lines, since contamination
failures electronic failures displaced by cycling, migration may occur in zero
modified design gravity
Apollo
131 4
.. Fig. 4.16 The Apollo EMU. Credit: NASA
.. Table 4.11 PGA characteristics
Weight 19.69 kg
Operational temperature ± 394°K
limitations
Leak rate at 25 511 N/m2 180 scc/min
(3.7 psig) (max)
Operating pressure 25 855 ± 1724 N/m2
Structural pressure 41 369 N/m2
Proof pressure 55 158 N/m2
Burst pressure 68 948 N/m2
.. Fig. 4.17 PGA features. Credit: NASA
Torso–Limb Suit Assembly

The torso–limb suit assembly (TLSA) comprised the part of the PGA that covered
the body with the exception of the head and hands. The pressure bladder of the
TLSA (. Fig. 4.18) was a neoprene-coated nylon fabric covered by a nylon restraint

layer. Built into the right thigh section was a biomedical injection port to enable
self-administration of a hypodermic injection without compromising gas retention.
The PGA’s inner layer was nylon, to which were attached a series of non-collapsible
ducts designed to improve ventilation. The ventilation system directed gas flow to
the helmet to help the astronaut breathe and also to improve defogging [16].
Pressure Helmet Assembly

The pressure helmet assembly (PHA) featured a visor that was made of optical quality
polycarbonate plastic (. Fig. 4.19). Within the PHA was a feed port that permitted

the insertion of a probe for water and food and at the back of the assembly was a foam
vent pad that acted as a headrest. The lunar visor assembly comprised three eyeshades
and two visors, the outer of which was the sun visor, which was made of high tem-
perature polysulfone plastic. Together with the inner visor, the sun visor (. Fig. 4.20)

helped protect the astronaut from infrared rays and also micrometeoroid damage.
Pressure Gloves
The pressure glove, which was a multilayered assembly, was attached to the TLSA
by a quick disconnect coupling. Abrasion protection was provided by Chromel-R,
and the thumb and fingertips were made of high-strength rubber-coated nylon.
Apollo
133 4
.. Fig. 4.18 Extravehicular configuration of torso limb suit assembly. Credit: NASA (Publication:
SP-368 Biomedical Results of Apollo)
.. Fig. 4.19 The Apollo pres-

sure helmet. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 4.20 The Apollo lunar

extravehicular visor assembly
(LEVA). Credit: NASA
The shell assembly was fitted to the pressure glove using fastener tape, anchor
straps, and neoprene adhesive. For comfort and to aid in sweat absorption, astro-
nauts wore nylon tricot gloves under the pressure gloves [16].
Integrated Thermal Micrometeoroid Garment

The Integrated Thermal Micrometeoroid Garment (ITMG) comprised a multi-
laminate assembly that covered the TLSA. The ITMG (. Figs. 4.21 and 4.22)
provided protection against abrasion, thanks to layers of Teflon and Chromel-R.
Liquid Cooling Garment

The liquid cooling garment (LCG) was made of a spandex/nylon material and was
worn next to the skin. The LCG (. Figs. 4.23 and 4.24) provided a steady flow of

temperature-controlled water (which was supplied either from the LM or from the
PLSS) through a network of polyvinylchloride (PVC) tubes that were integrated
into the garment (. Table 4.12).

Lunar Boots
The lunar boot comprised two layers. The outer layer, except for the sole (which
was made of Nomex), was made from Chromel-R and Teflon-impregnated beta
cloth, whereas the inner layer comprised two Kapton layers and five Mylar layers
separated by Dacron and Teflon-coated beta cloth [16].
Constant Wear Garment

The constant wear garment (CWG), which was made from cotton, was worn next
to the skin during IVA CM operations. It served to provide astronauts with com-
fort and a means to absorb perspiration. A fly opening and a rear “port” allowed
bodily functions to be performed.
Communications Carrier
The communications carrier, which featured microphones and earphones
embedded in a skull cap, allowed astronauts to talk to one another and to mis-
sion control.
Apollo
135 4
.. Fig. 4.21 The ITMG. Credit: NASA
Portable Life Support System

The PLSS comprised a backpack (. Fig. 4.25) that supplied the astronauts with oxy-

gen for breathing, suit pressure control, removal of carbon dioxide, trace contami-
nants and odors, temperature control, and warnings of malfunctions (. Table 4.13).

The PLSS also supplied oxygen to the PGA and water to the LCG. The subsys-
tems included an oxygen ventilating circuit, a primary oxygen subsystem, a liquid
transport loop, a feedwater loop, and a power system. The oxygen ventilating circuit
.. Fig. 4.22 Functions of the layers of the ITMG. Credit: NASA

Apollo
137 4
.. Fig. 4.23 The LCG. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 4.24 LCG material.

Credit: NASA
(. Fig. 4.26) provided contaminant control, regulated temperature, and ensured

humidity stayed within nominal limits, while the primary oxygen subsystem sup-
plied oxygen for pressurizing the suit and for breathing. The liquid transport loop
provided temperature control; water from the LCG entered the loop via a water
connector and was pumped through a sublimator so heat could be radiated away.
The feedwater loop supplied any excess water to the sublimator for cooling. The
final subsystem, the electrical power subsystem, powered the fan and pump motor
assemblies, the communication system and instrumentation, which were located in
the chest-mounted remote control unit shown in . Fig. 4.27 [16].

.. Table 4.12 Liquid cooling garment characteristics [16]
Weight (charged) 2.09 kg

Operating pressure 28 958 to 158 579 N/m2
Structural pressure 217 185 ± 3447 N/m2
Proof pressure 217185 ± 3447 N/m2
4 Burst pressure 327 501 N/m2

Leak rate, 131 000 N/m2 (19 psig) at ≈ 280°K 0.58 cm3/hr
(45°F)
.. Fig. 4.25 The Apollo

PLSS. Credit: NASA
Apollo
139 4
.. Table 4.13 PLSS specifications [16]
Design requirements Specifications
Apollo 11–14 Apollo 15–17
Average metabolic load 6894 J/hr 6694 J/hr

Peak metabolic load 8368 J/hr 8368 J/hr
Maximum heat leak in 1046 J/hr 1255 J/hr
Maximum heat leak out 1046 J/hr 1464 J/hr
Maximum CO2 partial pressure 15 mm Hg 15 mm Hg
Pressure garment assembly pressure 3.85 psia 3.85 psia
Ventilation flow .1557 m3/min .1557 m3/min
Duration 4 hr 7 hr
Oxygen charge pressure at ≈ 294°K (70°F) 1020 psia 1410 psia
Battery capacity 279 W-hr 431 W-hr
Emergency oxygen
Duration (minimum) 30 min 30 min
Maximum flow 3.63 kg/hr 3.63 kg/hr
Pressure garment assembly pressure 3.7 psia 3.7 psia
.. Fig. 4.26 The PLSS oxygen ventilating circuit. Credit: NASA

Of all the life support technology of the Apollo era, the EMU (. Fig. 4.28) was

one of the most outstanding. Although the astronauts reported a few issues such as
the lack of dexterity of the gloves and the tendency of the visor to scratch easily, the
EMU never suffered even a minor failure. The EMU performed flawlessly during
egress and ingress, it allowed astronauts the mobility and balance required to perform
their lunar tasks, and it was so comfortable that some astronauts reported they almost
forgot they were wearing a suit! One of the outstanding features of the suit was its
endurance capability, as evidenced by the 7-hour 37-minute EVA of Apollo 17, which
4 was the longest EVA on the Apollo Program. The performance of the Apollo LSS
and the biomedical results of this program can be found in NASA publication SP-368
(Section VI: Systems for the LSS), Following the Apollo Progra, LSS technology con-
tinued to be developed during the Skylab and Apollo Soyuz Test Program missions,
but the next evolution of LSS technology came about as a result of the Space Shuttle
Program (. Fig. 4.29), which is the focus of the following section.

Space Shuttle
The Space Shuttle’s life support system was divided into eight subsystems as follows:
55 Air Revitalization System (ARS)
55 Water Coolant Loop System (WCLS)
55 Atmosphere Revitalization Pressure Control System (ARPCS)
55 Active Thermal Control System (ATCS)
55 Supply and Wastewater System (SWWWS)
55 Waste Collection System (WCS)
55 Airlock Support System
55 Extravehicular Activity Mobility Units
Air Revitalization System
The ARS controlled relative humidity between 30 and 75 percent, maintained car-
bon dioxide at breathable concentrations, controlled temperature at comfortable
levels, maintained adequate ventilation, and provided cooling to the avionics in the
flight deck and mid-deck. The subsystem itself comprised a series of water coolant
loops, cabin air loops, and a means of controlling pressure [18]. Very simply, cabin
air was directed to a heat exchanger in the crew compartment, which was the site
at which cabin air was cooled by the water coolant loops. The water coolant loops
collected heat from a heat exchanger in the crew cabin and transferred this heat to
the heat exchanger in the ATCS.
What happened to all the heat? This was rejected by the ATCS via Freon-21 cool-
ant loops, cold plate networks, and heat sink systems. Another means of rejecting
heat was via the radiator panels fitted inside the payload bay doors. Operationally,
this system worked by rejecting most of the heat via the payload bay doors, but when
the doors had to be closed prior to return, the flash evaporators took over until the
Shuttle reached an altitude of 100,000 feet [18]. At this altitude, the flash evaporators
couldn’t operate due to atmospheric pressure, so ammonia boilers took over.
Space Shuttle
141 4
.. Fig. 4.27 The PLSS instru-
mentation unit. This unit sig-
naled the astronaut if any suit
systems malfunctioned. Such
malfunctions included low
ventilation flow, low PGA pres-
sure, high oxygen flow, and high
carbon dioxide levels. Credit:
NASA
.. Fig. 4.28 Apollo 17 astro-

naut Harrison Schmitt collects
samples during the mission’s first
spacewalk at the Taurus-Littrow
site. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 4.29 6 July 2006. Dis-

covery approaches the Inter-
national Space Station. The
Leonardo Multipurpose Logis-
tics Module can be seen in the
payload bay. Credit: NASA
At the heart of the ARS were five air loops, which included one for the cabin,
three for the avionics bays, and one for the inertial measurement units (IMUs). As
air circulated through the cabin, it collected heat, odor, and carbon dioxide. The
air was then drawn through the cabin loop through a filter and directed to lith-
ium hydroxide canisters where carbon dioxide was removed. These canisters were
removed every 12 hours (11 hours for a crew of seven). Cabin air was then directed
through the cabin heat exchanger and cooled by the water coolant loops. The crew
cabin had a volume of 2,300 cubic feet, which meant that with a flow rate of 330
4 cubic feet per minute, the crew cabin volume change occurred every 7 minutes [18].
Water Coolant Loop System
This subsystem collected heat at the cabin to air water coolant loop heat exchanger.
The heat was transferred to the water coolant loops which transferred heat at the
water and Freon-21 coolant loop interchanger. This series of thermal exchanges
provided thermal regulation of the crew cabin, but the WCLS also provided ther-
mal regulation for the avionics bays where heat generated by the operation of the
avionics was transferred to a cold plate before being transferred to the WCLS [18].
Atmosphere Revitalization Pressure Control System
The ARPCS maintained cabin pressure at 14.7 psia (80 % nitrogen and 20 % oxy-
gen) with an oxygen partial pressure maintained between 2.95 psia and 3.45 psia.
Oxygen was supplied from two cryogenic storage systems located in the middle of
the fuselage, while nitrogen was provided by two nitrogen tanks also located in the
mid-fuselage. The nitrogen was also used to pressurize potable water located below
the mid-deck floor. This water, which was produced by three fuel cell power plants,
was used for crew consumption and also for the flash evaporator system [18].
The ARPCS was regulated by nitrogen and oxygen control and supply panels
and partial pressure sensors that monitored positive and negative pressure using
relief valves. On average, 1.76 pounds of oxygen was consumed per crewmember
per day. The nitrogen tanks, which were constructed of Kevlar fiber, were pressur-
ized to 3,300 psia. The concentration of nitrogen was controlled by supply valves,
and the supply of the nitrogen to the cabin was regulated by reducing the pressure in
stages. Control for this operation was performed via nitrogen controllers in the flight
crew cabin. These controllers were normally set to “norm” or “auto” mode. In this
latter mode, the system worked like this: when the partial pressure of oxygen sen-
sor detected that oxygen was required, the nitrogen supply valve was simply closed
automatically and oxygen flowed through its check valve to make up the required
oxygen partial pressure [18]. To ensure the crew were warned of any off-nominal
parameters, there was a red cabin atmosphere caution and warning light located on
panel F7. This light was illuminated when the following parameters were exceeded:
55 Cabin pressure was detected below 14 psia or exceeded 15.4 psia.
55 Partial pressure of oxygen below 2.8 psia or above 3.6 psia was detected.
55 Oxygen flow rate exceeded 5 pounds per hour.
55 Nitrogen flow rate exceeded 5 pounds per hour.
Space Shuttle
143 4
In the case of a slow or rapid decompression, a klaxon would sound, and a master
alarm light indicator would light up if pressure decreased faster than 0.05 psi per min-
ute. To protect the crew from over-pressurization, relief valves were located in the crew
cabin. To relieve over-pressurization, the crew simply switched the valves to “enable,”
and this permitted a relief of pressure of up to 150 pounds per hour [18]. Similarly, if
a lower than normal pressure was detected, negative pressure relief valves were acti-
vated, which provided a flow of pressure into the cabin at up to 654 pounds per hour.
Active Thermal Control System
The ATCS removed heat from the ARS at the water coolant loop/Freon-21 cool-
ant loop interchanger. This subsystem also provided heat for the PRSD cryogenic
oxygen and oxygen supply line. The subsystem comprised two Freon-21 coolant
loops (. Fig. 4.30), which in turn comprised a cold plate network, a liquid heat

exchanger, a heat sink system, a flash evaporator, and an ammonia boiler [18].
During orbital operations, once the payload doors had been opened, heat
rejection was provided by (Freon) radiator panels (. Fig. 4.31) in the payload

bay doors. But during ground operations and from T+125 seconds (from lift-off
.. Fig. 4.30 The ATCS Freon-21 coolant loop. Each loop comprised a pump package, which was
basically two pumps and an accumulator. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 4.31 Location of the Freon radiator panels. The radiators were located on the underside of
the Orbiter’s payload bay doors. On arriving on orbit, the doors were opened, and it was the radiator
panels that were responsible for heat rejection. The radiator system, which comprised three panels
(constructed of an aluminum honeycomb face sheet), was capable of heat rejection of up to 21,500
Btu per hour. Radiator flow control valve assemblies, which were located aft of the mod fuselage, were
operated automatically or manually. Another element of the ATCS was ammonia boilers that cooled
the Freon-21 coolant loops when the Orbiter was below 100,000 feet (during reentry). Credit: NASA
to T+125 seconds, heat rejection was achieved by thermal lag) to reaching orbit,
heat rejection was enabled by the Freon-21 loops depicted in . Fig. 4.30. Then, on

reentry, the flash evaporator subsystem operated until an altitude of 100,000 feet
was reached, at which point heat rejection was provided by ammonia boilers [18].
Supply and Wastewater System (SWWS)
This subsystem provided potable water for the crew and water for the flash evapo-
rator. Water was generated by the fuel cells, which generated 25 pounds of potable
water every hour. The potable water was stored in four tanks, each capable of stor-
ing 165 pounds (. Fig. 4.32). Wastewater was stored in one tank which also had a

capacity of 165 pounds [18].

The water generated from the fuel cells was hydrogen-rich, which is why the
water was first directed to hydrogen separators (a matrix of palladium tubes essen-
tially), which removed 85 percent of the excess hydrogen which was then dumped
overboard. After this, the water passed through a microbial filter that added iodine
to the water. For consumption, chilled water was controlled to between 43°F and
55°F and for heated water, and the temperature was controlled between 155°F and
165°F. The ambient temperature was between 65°F and 95°F [18].
Waste Collection System
The WCS (. Fig. 4.33) was located on the mid-deck. It was used to collect, store,

dry, and process crew waste. Fitted with a door, the door served the dual function
as an ingress platform during prelaunch, when the crew had to enter the flight deck
above the WCS.
Space Shuttle
145 4
.. Fig. 4.32 Water tank schematic. The water tank was pressurized using nitrogen. A hydrophobic
filter prevented any water that had leaked from getting into the water tank. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 4.33 Performing ablu-

tions in microgravity required
some delicate maneuvering, as
described by astronaut Mike
Mullane: “NASA installed a
camera at the bottom of the
toilet simulator transport tube.
A light inside the trainer pro-
vided illumination to a part of
the body that normally didn't
get a lot of sunshine. A moni-
tor was placed directly in front
of the trainer with a helpful
crosshair marker to designate
the exact center of the transport
tube. In our training we would
clamp ourselves to this toilet
and wiggle around until we were
looking at a perfect bull's-eye.
When that was achieved, we
would memorize the position of
our thighs and buttocks in rela-
tion to the clamps and other seat
landmarks.” Credit: NASA
The WCS comprised a commode, a urinal, fan separators, odor filters, a vacuum
vent disconnect, and controls. As you can see in . Fig. 4.33, a hydrophobic bag

liner was used for storing solid waste. In use, the commode was pressurized, and air
flow was used to make sure waste moved in the right direction! The urinal was basi-
cally a funnel attached to a hose that used a fan separator to make sure liquid flowed
where it was supposed to flow. As you can see, foot restraints were provided, and
Velcro straps helped secure the feet of the crewmember using the WCS. Handholds
and strategically positioned cameras were used for positioning [18].
4
Airlock Support
The airlock (. Figs. 4.34 and 4.35) was located on the mid-deck. It enabled astro-

nauts to transfer from the mid-deck to the payload bay while wearing space suits
without depressurizing the Orbiter. The airlock, which measured 63 inches in diam-
eter and 83 inches in length and had a volume of 150 cubic feet, could accommodate
two fully suited astronauts. It provided depressurization and repressurization, EVA
equipment recharging, cooling for the liquid cooling ventilation garment, donning
capabilities, and communication. To assist astronauts during pre- and post-space-
walk operations, the airlock featured handrails, foot restraints, and floodlights [18].
xtravehicular Activity Mobility Units and Crew Altitude

E
Protection System
The EMUs provided the astronauts with all life support requirements, including
supply of oxygen, removal of carbon dioxide, pressurized environment, tempera-
ture and humidity control, and micrometeoroid/orbital debris (MMOD) protec-
tion. 7 Chapter 6 is dedicated to a description of the EMU and the prebreathe

protocol. Before completing the overview of the Space Shuttle life support system,
it is necessary to mention the Crew Altitude Protection System (CAPS) which later
became the Advanced Crew Escape Suit (ACES) (. Fig. 4.36). This suit, manufac-

.. Fig. 4.34 The airlock.

Credit: NASA
Space Shuttle
147 4
.. Fig. 4.35 A view of the airlock of Atlantis. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 4.36 Shuttle crewmembers practice an emergency egress in their ACES suits. Credit NASA
.. Table 4.14 ACES features and capabilities
Full pressure suit (launch and reentry), gloves, boots, helmet

Provided 3.46 psi nominal operating pressure
Provided protection in low altitude bailout and ground egress scenarios
Was able to operate as open- or closed-loop demand breathing system
4 Featured an emergency breathing system

Liquid cooling system
Headset communication system
Search and rescue identification and emergency communication hardware
High-altitude, automatic inflation parachutes
Automatic inflation life preserver
Survival drinking water packets
tured by the David Clark Company, was a pressure suit worn by astronauts during
launch and reentry. The ACES was a full pressure suit that provided, in addition
to the features listed in . Table 4.14, liquid cooling, emergency breathing, and

survival hardware in the event of an emergency scenario.
Key Terms
55 Active Thermal Control System (ATCS)
55 Advanced Crew Escape Suit (ACES)
55 Atmosphere Revitalization Pressure Control System (ARPCS)
55 Commander (CDR)
55 Command Module (CM)
55 Command Module Pilot (CMP)
55 Constant Wear Garment (CWG)
55 Crew Altitude Protection System (CAPS)
55 Environmental Control System (ECS)
55 Extravehicular Mobility Unit (EMU)
55 Ground Elapsed Time (GET)
55 Inertial Measurement Unit (IMU)
55 Integrated Thermal Micrometeoroid Garment (ITMG)
55 Intravehicular Activity (IVA)
55 Lithium Hydroxide (LiOH)
55 Liquid Cooling Garment (LCG)
References
149 4
55 Lunar Extravehicular Visor Assembly (LEVA)

55 Lunar Module (LM)
55 Lunar Module Pilot (LMP)
55 Micrometeoroid Orbital Debris (MMOD)
55 Orthostatic Intolerance (OI)
55 Oxygen Supply and Cabin Pressure Control Section (OSCPCS)
55 Portable Life Support System (PLSS)
55 Pressure Garment Assembly (PGA)
55 Pressure Helmet Assembly (PHA)
55 Service Module (SM)
55 Supply and Wastewater System (SWWS)
55 Torso–Limb Suit Assembly (TLSA)
55 Urine Collection and Receptacle Assembly (UCTA)
55 Urine Transfer System (UTS)
55 Water Coolant Loop System (WCLS)
55 Water Management System (WMS)
??Review Questions
1. What is meant by the term orthostatic intolerance?
2. Explain the function of the Gemini spacecraft’s primary oxygen system.
3. Explain the function of the Gemini spacecraft’s temperature control subsys-
tem.
4. What elements comprised the suit loop of the Gemini space suit?
5. List five functions of the Apollo ECS system.
6. What functions did the CM pressure suit circuit support?
7. What was the OSCPCS?
8. List five PGA characteristics.
9. What was the function of the TLSA?
10. What metabolic load did the Apollo PLSS support?
11. List the eight subsystems of the Shuttle LSS.
12. Explain how the Shuttle ARS accomplished its function.
References
1. Daues, K. (2006, Jan). A history of spacecraft environmental control and life support systems.
https://ntrs.nasa.gov/search.jsp?R=20080031131.
2. McDonnell, A., & C Corp. (1962, Dec). Project mercury familiarization manual.
3. Grinter, K. (2000). Project mercury overview. http://www-pao.ksc.nasa.gov/history/mercury/
mercury-overview.htm.
4. Swenson, L. S., Grimwood, J. M., & Alexander, C. C. (1966). This New Ocean, A History of
Project Mercury. Houston: Scientific and Technical Information Division, Office of Technology
Utilization, National Aeronautics and Space Administration. in Time Vol. LXXIII (1959).
5. Link, M. M. & United States. National Aeronautics and Space Administration. Scientific and
Technical Information Division. (2006). Space Medicine in Project Mercury. Houston: Scientific
and Technical Information Division, National Aeronautics and Space Administration.
6. Manned Spacecraft Center (U.S.). (1962). Results of the Third U.S. Manned Orbital Space Flight,
October 3, 1962. Washington: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, Manned Space-
craft Center, Project Mercury; for sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Govt. Print. Off.
7. Voas, R. B. (1960). Project Mercury astronaut training program. Symposium on psychophysi-
ological aspects of space flight http://docplayer.net/986308-Project-mercury-astronaut-training-
program-robert-b-voas-nasa-space-task-group-langley-field-virginia-introduction.htmL.
8. Wheelwright, C. D. (1962). Physiological Sensors for use in Project Mercury. Houston: Manned
4 Spacecraft Center, National Aeronautics and Space Administration.
9. Manned Spacecraft Center (U.S.). Results of the First U.S. Manned Suborbital Space Flight, June
6, 1961 (p. 1961). Washington, DC: National Aeronautics and Space Administration.
10. Manned Spacecraft Center (U.S.). (1961). Results of the Second U.S. Manned Suborbital Space
Flight, July 21, 1961. Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off.
11. Manned Spacecraft Center (U.S.). (1962). Results of the First U.S. Manned Orbital Space Flight,
February 20, 1962. Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off.
12. Manned Spacecraft Center (U.S.). Results of the Second U.S. Manned Orbital Space Flight, May
24, 1962 (p. 1962). Houston: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, Manned Space-
craft Center.
13. McDonnell Aircraft Corporation. (1966, April). NASA project Gemini familiarization manual.
14. Berry, & Catterson, A. D. (1967, Feb). Pre-Gemini medical predictions versus Gemini flight
results. In NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, Gemini Summary Conference, NASA SP-138
(pp. 201–215). Washington; Berry and others, Man's Response to Long-Duration Flight in the
Gemini Spacecraft, in NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, Gemini Mid-Program Conference,
NASA SP-121 (Washington, Feb. 1966), pp. 235–44.
15. Hughes, D. F., Owens, W. L., & Young, R. W. (1973). Apollo command and service module envi-
ronmental control system - mission performance and experience. New York: ASME Paper No.
73-ENA29, American Society of Mechanical Engineers.
16. SP-368 Biomedical Results of Apollo.
17. Brady, J. C., Browne, D. M., Schneider, H. J., & Sheehan, J. F. (1973). Apollo lunar module envi-
ronmental control system - mission performance and experience. New York: ASME Paper No.
73-ENA28, American Society of Mechanical Engineers.
18. SHUTTLE CREW OPERATIONS MANUAL. Rev. A, CPN-1 DATE: December 15, 2008.
Suggested Reading
Daues, K. (2006, Jan). A history of spacecraft environmental control and life support systems. https://
ntrs.nasa.gov/search.jsp?R=20080031131.
Diamant, B. L., & Humphries, W. R. (1990). Past and present environmental control and life support
systems on manned spacecraft. SAE Transactions. Vol. 99, Section 1. Journal of Aerospace, Part
1, 376–408.
Sivolella, D. The Space Shuttle: Technologies and Accomplishments (June 2017). Springer-Praxis.
151 5
International Space
Station Life Support
System
Credit: NASA
Contents
nited States Orbital Segment Life Support

U
System – 153
ass Balance – 154
M
ISS ECLSS Overview – 155
Atmosphere Control System – 157
Air Revitalization System – 157

dvances in ARS Technology: The Advanced
A
Closed-Loop System – 163
T emperature and Humidity Control System – 163
Fire Detection and Suppression System – 164
Water Recovery and Management System – 164
Vacuum System – 166
ussian Orbital Segment Life

R
Support System – 167
tmosphere Control System – 169
A
Oxygen Supply System – 169
Air Purification System – 170
Gas Analysis System – 171
Temperature and Humidity Control – 172
Water Supply System – 172
Food Supply Facilities – 172
Sanitation and Hygiene Equipment – 173
Fire Detection and Suppression System – 174
aradigms in Life Support: The Aggregation of

P
Marginal Gains and Thirsty Walls – 175
T he Aggregation of Marginal Gains – 175
Thirsty Walls – 175
References – 178
United States Orbital Segment Life Support System
153 5
55 List each subsystem of the USOS and ROS LSS
55 Describe the function of each subsystem of the USOS and ROS LSS
55 Explain how the CDRA and CRA work
55 Explain how the Sabatier reaction works
55 Describe the function of the TCCS
55 Explain how the CHX is used in the THC
55 Describe the function of the NLSOV, VEDD, WPA, WLSOV, VEMRV, and
VADD
55 Explain the key features of the ROS Air Purification System and how each
assembly achieves its function
55 Explain what is meant by the aggregation of marginal gains in the context of LSS
55 Explain how Thirsty Walls work
Introduction
This entire chapter is dedicated to the ISS life support system. Why? Well, for one
thing, this spacecraft has been permanently crewed for more than two decades
now, which means its life support system has been thoroughly and extensively
tested. Over the years, life support engineers have gathered a wealth of data about
the myriad subsystems and assemblies that comprise the orbiting outpost’s life sup-
port system. Some subsystems, such as the oxygen generator assembly, have worked
reliably, while others, such as the carbon dioxide removal assembly, have required
extensive and intensive maintenance.
In addition to providing life support engineers with valuable data, the ISS has
served as a vital test platform for the development of new technologies that will be
required to close the system. Closure of the system is necessary if astronauts are
ever to have a chance of venturing to Mars. Before reading this chapter, you should
be advised that there are many, many acronyms, almost all of which you will be
required to know since none of these are spelled out in any exam!
The Environmental Control and Life Support System (ECLSS) for the International
Space Station (ISS) includes some subsystems that are regenerative and some that
are non-regenerative. Since a primary goal is to close the loop on the ECLSS, the
aim has always been to increase the regenerative capabilities of these subsystems.
During the 20 plus years the ISS has been orbiting Earth, there has been a gradual
154 Chapter 5 · International Space Station Life Support System
and steady increase in the closure of these subsystems [1], which, in the United
States Orbital Segment (USOS)1, are as follows:
1. Atmosphere Control System
Assemblies: Manual Pressurization Equalization Valve
2. Air Revitalization System
Assemblies: Carbon Dioxide Removal Assembly, Oxygen Generating Assembly,
Trace Contaminant Control Assembly, Oxygen Recharge Compressor Assembly
3. Temperature and Humidity Control System
Assemblies: Inter-module Ventilation, Common Cabin Air Assembly
4. Fire Detection and Suppression System
5 Assemblies/Components: Portable Breathing Apparatus, Portable Fire
Extinguisher
5. Water Recovery Management System
Assemblies: Urine Processing Assembly
6. Vacuum System
Mass Balance
By increasing the regenerative capabilities of these subsystems, not only engineers

are gradually closing the ECLSS loop, but they are also reducing the resources and
consumables required. At this point, it is worth reminding ourselves of the mass
balance (. Fig. 5.1).

As we shall see in this chapter, many of the subsystems do a very good job at
recycling water and generating oxygen, but there is still a 7 percent shortfall in
overall closure, and this doesn’t consider the food mass. Imagine a Mars-bound
crew traveling to Mars with the life support system (LSS) currently in use on the
ISS, and let’s consider just the food mass penalty [1]. As you can see in . Fig. 5.1,

each crewmember requires 800 grams of food per day, which equals to 3.2 kilo-
grams per day for a crew of four. Multiply that by 1000 days, which is the average
length of time for a Mars mission, and you have a mass penalty of 3200 kilograms.
And we haven’t even considered the shortfall in water and oxygen!
What is needed is a regenerative LSS, an element (water recovery) of which is
depicted in . Fig. 5.2. The ISS LSS (. Fig. 5.3) is partially regenerable.

Closing the loop is what NASA and the other space agencies are trying to do.
As of 2020, the ISS ECLSS is classified as a partially closed LSS with a closure of
93 percent. According to NASA’s website, there is no question of embarking on a
trip to Mars until that number is closer to 98 or 99 percent. But it’s not just a case
of closing the loop. Engineers must also look at ways of enhancing LSS capability
and extending the life of current subsystems. After all, there is no point in develop-
1The USOS comprises all module forward of the Pressurized Mating Adapter-1 (PMA-1): Unity,
Permanent Multipurpose Module, Quest, Tranquility, the Cupola, Destiny, Harmony, Columbus, and
the Japanese Experiment Module (JEM).
155 5
.. Fig. 5.1 Daily mass balance for the average male astronaut. Note: these values obviously change
depending on the mass of the astronaut. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 5.2 Water mass balance per astronaut per day for a spacecraft with a regenerative life
support system. Credit: NASA
ing an oxygen generating assembly that generates all the oxygen needs of the crew
if that assembly breaks down every 2 weeks! So, let’s begin with an overview of the
ECLSS arrangement on ISS.
ISS ECLSS Overview
The ISS International Partners provide various ECLSS components within their
modules, but not every module is fitted with a complete suite of LSS subsystems.
For example, the Italian Space Agency’s Permanent Multipurpose Module (PMM)
provides only ventilation for the module and relies on adjacent modules for cooling
and temperature control. A similar approach is implemented in several of the
Russian Orbital Segment (ROS) modules for ACS, ARS, and WRM functions
(. Fig. 5.4).

.. Fig. 5.3 Schematic of a regenerative life support system. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 5.4 Schematic of various elements of the ISS ECLSS. Credit: ESA/NASA

157 5
Atmosphere Control System
One of the primary functions of the ACS is to maintain pressure. To do this

requires an assortment of hardware such as sensors, distribution lines, and equal-
ization valves. For example, the Node 1 ACS hardware includes pressure sensors
that monitor the atmosphere pressure and oxygen and nitrogen distribution lines
that ensure sufficient oxygen and nitrogen are pumped into not only this module
but other modules such as Node 3, the US Lab, and the Quest module, which is
where the airlock is located [2, 3, 4]. Another piece of hardware is the manual pres-
sure equalization valve (MPEV). The MPEVs, which are attached to each of the
hatches in the Node 1 module, are designed for bidirectional flow and can be oper-
ated manually from either side of the hatches [5, 6].
Air Revitalization System
The Air Revitalization System (ARS) subsystem is responsible for removing car-
bon dioxide, generating oxygen, and trace contaminant control. It achieves these
functions via the carbon dioxide removal assembly (CDRA), the oxygen genera-
tion assembly (OGA), and the trace contaminant control system (TCCS). The
CDRA was designed with the carbon dioxide reduction assembly (CRA) in mind.
The CDRA collects carbon dioxide and directs it to the CRA, while the OGA
electrolyzes water into oxygen and hydrogen. The oxygen is used by the crew to
breathe while the hydrogen is directed to the CRA, which reacts with the hydrogen
and carbon dioxide to generate methane and water [7]. Water is then directed to the
OGA, which means this particular subsystem increases closure of the ECLSS
(. Fig. 5.5).

.. Fig. 5.5 Overview of ARS subsystems. Credit: NASA

.. Fig. 5.6 Four-bed molecular sieve schematic. Credit: NASA
Carbon Dioxide Removal Assembly

The CDRA removes carbon dioxide using a pressure and temperature swing
adsorption cycle. Basically, the configuration of the CDRA includes carbon
dioxide removal beds that are filled with a molecular sieve packed with heater
plates (. Fig. 5.6). As more and more carbon dioxide is passed through the

molecular sieve, the mass fraction of carbon dioxide gradually increases, and the
bed adsorbs the carbon dioxide [8]. This process occurs because the material in
the molecular sieve has a high affinity for water vapor. And because the molecu-
lar sieve material preferentially adsorbs and displaces carbon dioxide, it is neces-
sary to use two desiccant beds, one for removing water vapor and one for
replenishing water.
Carbon Dioxide Reduction Assembly

The CRA helps close the ECLSS ISS loop by using waste products that would oth-
erwise be vented overboard. The CRA, which became fully operational on ISS in
June 2011, interfaces with the OGA and CDRA. Carbon dioxide from the CDRA
is stored in tanks until hydrogen is generated by the OGA via water electrolysis [9].
Once carbon dioxide is available, the CRA is activated, and the assembly produces
methane and water, thanks to the reliable Sabatier reaction as follows [10]:
Sabatier Reaction : CO 2 + 4H 2 ⇔ CH 4 + 2H 2 O ∆H°rxn = −165 kJ / mol (1)

159 5
.. Fig. 5.7 How the Sabatier reaction works in the CRA. Credit: NASA
For those who have a hard time figuring out formulae and are wondering how
the Sabatier reaction works, here goes. First, water is condensed out of the stream
generated by the OGA. It is then separated and purified in the water processing
assembly (which we will discuss when we describe the Water Recovery Management
System later). Once purified, water is recycled back to the OGA, where it used to
generate oxygen for the crew to breathe. Methane, which is saturated with water
vapor at this point, is at a dew point temperature that is very close to the ISS cool-
ing loop used to cool the station’s condensing heat exchanger, as depicted in
. Fig. 5.7. This methane is simply vented to space.

Oxygen Generating Assembly

Another key feature of the ACS is the oxygen generating assembly (OGA), the
function of which is to convert potable water from the Water Recovery
Management System into oxygen and hydrogen. The oxygen is used to make up
the breathable atmosphere in the modules, and the hydrogen either is used to
generate more water or is simply vented to space. The OGA (. Fig. 5.8), which
was activated in July 2007, has generally proven very effective at generating oxy-
gen but has shown to be rather maintenance-intensive; filters have to be replaced
regularly, the system has to be calibrated, sensors need to have maintenance
checks, loop filters have to be replaced, pumps have to be checked, seals must be
inspected, etc. You get the idea.
In fact, the OGA has been plagued by clusters of problems (. Figs. 5.9, 5.10,
and 5.11) caused by design oversight, which in turn was caused by lack of sufficient
.. Fig. 5.8 OGA schematic. Credit: Tanada
.. Fig. 5.9 The cumulative failure and maintenance rate for the combined filter and cell stack group
and for the H2 sensor group in the OGA. Credit: NASA / Tanada
ground testing. In short, the cause of all the failures observed during the time the
OGA has been installed on the ISS can only be solved by a major design modifica-
tion. In other words, you don’t want to be taking this along with you to Mars! That
is because while the OGA does a great job at generating/recycling oxygen, this
generating/recycling benefit is overshadowed by the sheer number of maintenance
and repair cycles.
161 5
.. Fig. 5.10 The number of OGA repair and replace events. Credit: NASA / Tanada
.. Fig. 5.11 The number of OGA maintenance events each year. Credit: NASA (Tanada)
Oxygen Recharge Compressor Assembly

The oxygen recharge compressor assembly (ORCA) is a means by which the ISS
stores oxygen on board. When depleted, these tanks, which are pressurized at 2400
psi, are either replaced or repressurized.
Trace Contaminant Control Assembly

The trace contaminant control assembly (TCCS) achieves its function of removing
trace chemical contaminants using the processes of physical adsorption, thermal
catalytic oxidation, and chemical adsorption. Located in the ARS rack inside the
Destiny module, the TCCS (. Figs. 5.12 and 5.13) features a charcoal bed assem-

bly (CBA), a thermal catalytic oxidizer assembly (COA), and a post-sorbent bed
.. Fig. 5.12 Simplified TCCS process. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 5.13 TCCS flight configuration. Credit: NASA
assembly (SBA). It is the CBA, COA, and SBA that are the key components that
remove contaminants. The process begins as cabin air is directed into the TCCS at
a rate of 15.29 cubic meters per hour [11]. The air is then directed through the
CBA, which is an expendable fixed bed that contains about 22 kilograms of
Barnebey Sutcliffe Corporation Type 3032 charcoal. As the air passes through the
CBA, the charcoal removes many of the volatile organic compounds (VOCs), but
it cannot remove all the methane or carbon monoxide. But not to worry, because
the COA can do this job, thanks to its integrated heat exchanger and its bed of
catalyst pellets. This bed comprises 500 grams of alumina pellets. The COA, which
receives 4.59 cubic meters of air per hour, is maintained at 400°C, a temperature
sufficient to ensure the process of VOC oxidation is achieved. Finally, after exiting
the COA, air flows through a fixed bed of granular lithium hydroxide (LiOH),
Advances in ARS Technology: The Advanced Closed-Loop System
163 5
which breaks down the remaining VOCs, and ultimately, the SBA provides post-
treatment of the resultant air.
dvances in ARS Technology: The Advanced

A
Closed-Loop System
The advanced closed-loop system (ACLS) is a regenerative LSS subsystem. Its
regenerative processes include removing carbon dioxide, generating oxygen, and
reprocessing carbon dioxide [7]. It achieves these functions via:
1. The Carbon Dioxide Concentration Subsystem (CCA), which controls carbon
dioxide levels inside the module
2. The Carbon Dioxide Reprocessing Subsystem (CRA), which uses the Sabatier
reaction to react hydrogen and carbon dioxide over a catalyst to generate
water and methane.
3. The Oxygen Generation Subsystem (OGA), which splits water into oxygen and
hydrogen
The ACLS (. Fig. 5.14), which is currently operating as a technology test and

demonstrator, represents a significant step forward in regenerative LSS. It can pro-

cess 40 percent of the water required for producing oxygen from the carbon dioxide
exhaled by the crew.
Temperature and Humidity Control System
The temperature and humidity control (THC) system’s primary function of regu-
lating temperature and humidity is achieved through the use of ventilation fans, a
low-temperature cooled hydrophilic-coated heat exchanger (CHX), and a rotary
liquid separator that removes condensate from the stream of air. In terms of per-
formance and reliability, the system has performed well over time, although there
is a tendency for sloughing of the CHC coating material. The THC’s secondary
function is cleaning the air of particulates and microbes, and it achieves this func-
tion with the use of HEPA filters. This is a simple solution, but as you can imagine,
the filters are expendable and must be replaced regularly.
Ventilation capability is achieved by two processes:
1. Exchanging air between the modules using inter-module ventilation (IMV) [12,
13, 14]. For example, the arrangement of ventilation elements and ducting
ensures air is exchanged between the Russian Orbital Segment (ROS) and the
United States Orbital Segment (USOS).
2. Circulating air within a module. One way to understand how this works is to
focus on one particular module. We’ll take a look at Harmony, which is where
the crew quarters (CQ) are located. To provide each crewmember with
comfortable air temperature and humidity, air is circulated through each CQ by
two fans. Inside the CQ, air adsorbs heat from the metabolic heat generated by
the astronaut. The air is then directed through a CQ exhaust duct and toward
the common carrier air assembly (CCAA).
.. Fig. 5.14 ACLS. Credit: ESA
Fire Detection and Suppression System
The fire detection and suppression system (FDS) does exactly that: detects fires
and suppresses them. It achieves these functions using a photoelectric fire detector,
a portable breathing apparatus (PBA), and a portable fire extinguisher (PFE). The
PFE is a standard mask that covers the face and is attached to a 6-meter hose that
is plugged into an air socket. The PFEs come in two varieties: one using carbon
dioxide, weighing 2.7 kilograms, and the other using water mist – the fire water mist
PFE (FWM PFE) (. Fig. 5.15) [15, 16, 17].

Water Recovery and Management System
The water recovery and management (WRM) system must receive wastewater such
as crew urine and condensate, then process that wastewater to drinking water stan-
dards through the water recovery system (WRS), and distribute that water back to
the astronauts [18, 19]. A schematic showing how these functions are achieved is
depicted in . Fig. 5.16.

Advances in ARS Technology: The Advanced Closed-Loop System
165 5
.. Fig. 5.15 The FWM PFE. This PFE comprises a nozzle assembly and a tank assembly. The
nozzle comprises the handle, cartridge valves, nozzle tip, and venturi, while the tank, which is tita-
nium, contains 6 pounds of water and 1.2 pounds of pressurized nitrogen. To operate, the astronaut
simply removes the pip pin and squeezes the handle. This opens the two cartridge valves that permit
nitrogen to flow and water to mix in the venturi before being discharged through the nozzle [15, 16,
17]. Fortunately, as of June 2020, these PFEs have not been used. Of all the LSS subsystems, the
PFEs are the least maintenance-intensive, since they have 15-year shelf lives. Credit: NASA
Here’s how the whole process works. First, the wastewater bus receives humid-
ity condensate from the CCAA. Remember, it is the function of the CCAA, which
is a THC assembly, to condense water vapor and other condensable contaminants
to this bus by first directing the condensate through a water separator.
In addition to utilizing the CCAA, the WRM makes use of the carbon dioxide
reduction system (CDRS). Remember, the CDRS produces water from the Sabatier
reaction to produce water from carbon dioxide from the CDRA (this assembly also
produces hydrogen from electrolysis in the OGA). All this water is routed to the
water processing assembly (WPA) waste tank. This is a different tank than the
waste and hygiene compartment (WHC), which collects urine. It is in the WHC
that urine is treated with chemicals. Once pretreated, it is routed to the UPA
(. Figs. 5.17 and 5.18) where vapor compression distillation (VCD) technology

recovers water from urine by evaporating it at low pressure in the distillation assem-
bly. The efficiency with which it does this is about 74 percent. Incidentally, the
amount of time it takes for urine to become water again for drinking is about 8
days on station. And yes, the water is very pure. In fact, it far exceeds the purifica-
tion standards imposed by most local authorities on Earth. Now you may be won-
dering why the UPA only functions at 74 percent. Well, the manufacturer confidently
predicted it would operate at more than 90 percent and when, after a few months
of operating on ISS, that number was below what was predicted, an investigation
was launched. Seems the company that designed the UPA had not considered the
effect of bone loss when designing their system. You see, when astronauts are in
space, calcium leaches out of their bones and that calcium is filtered through the
.. Fig. 5.16 Function of the WRM. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 5.17 The UPA.

Credit: NASA
kidney in the urine. And when you try to pass calcium-rich urine through a filter,
the filter clogs!! Hence the reduced efficiency and a valuable lesson in UPA design!
Vacuum System
The vacuum system is the subsystem that is least mentioned when talking about
LSS. It is often used to conduct experiments. This subsystem is located in Columbus,
the JEM, and Destiny. The function of this subsystem is to provide vacuum, vent-
ing, and distribution of nitrogen. It achieves these functions, thanks to myriad
valves and shut-off valves. The nitrogen line shut-off valves (NLSOV) are used to
provide nitrogen to the International Standard Payload Racks (ISPR) and to the
water pump assembly (WPA) for repressurization. The Venting Dump Devices
Russian Orbital Segment Life Support System
167 5
.. Fig. 5.18 UPA operation. Credit: NASA
(VEDD), on the other hand, are used to dump waste gas into space. This action
can only be achieved by first opening the waste line shut-off valves (WLSOV).
Once the WLSOV and VEDD have been closed, vent lines are repressurized using
cabin air by opening the venting manual return valves (VEMRV). A number of
racks inside the JEM, Columbus, and Destiny are equipped with vacuum lines to
enable vacuum conditions for payloads. To enable this function, Vacuum Dump
Devices (VADD) are opened to dump air inside the vacuum line to space. The
vacuum line is then repressurized using the same procedure as the venting line.
That completes the overview of the USOS LSS. From a mission control per-
spective, the LSS, the ETHOS acronym is applied. This stands for Environmental
and Thermal Operating System, and for a more detailed insight into how the sys-
tem is operated, the Console Handbook is provided in Appendix IV.
The ROS LSS provides the same functions as the USOS LSS, although the organi-
zation is a little different. There are five subsystems as follows:
1. Atmosphere control system
2. Water supply system
3. Food supply facilities
4. Sanitation and hygiene compartment

5. Fire detection and suppression
The ROS LSS fulfils the following parameters (. Table 5.1):
1. Total pressure: 660–860 mmHg

2. PPO2 inhaled air: 150–200 mmHg
3. PPCO2: 6 mmHg
4. PPH2O: 10 ± 5 mmHg
5. Air temperature: 20–25°C
6. Air circulation rate: 0.1–0.4 m/sec
5
.. Table 5.1 Location of ROS ECLSS Units
Name Zvezda Zarya
Atmosphere control system

Elektron unit Panels 429, 430
Solid fuel oxygen generator Panel 429
Vozdukh carbon dioxide removal Panels 420–424
system
Carbon dioxide absorber Panels 432, 436
canisters
Harmful impurities filter Panel 411
Gas analysis system Panel 439 Panel 405
Water supply system
Rodnik system valves panel Panels 233, 234
Atmospheric condensate water Panel 431
regeneration system (БРП)
Food supply facilities
Food rations Panels 238, 239
Electric food warmer In dining table
On-board refrigerator Panel 230
Sanitation and hygiene Toilet compartment
equipment
Fire detection and suppression system
“Signal” system control panel Panel 329
Portable fire extinguisher Hatch РО-ПРК Hatch Panels 229, 404 and in
РО-ПХО adapter
Rebreather-type gas mask Panels 416, 216 Panels 230, 404 and
adapter
169 5
Atmosphere Control System
The atmosphere control system is designed to supply oxygen to the crew and
remove carbon dioxide and trace contaminants. This system must also monitor gas
partial pressures and signal the crew if partial pressures exceed thresholds or fall
below preset limits. Additionally, this system must equalize pressure between mod-
ules and pressurize the airlocks. To achieve these functions, this subsystem is orga-
nized into secondary subsystems as follows:
1. Oxygen supply system
2. Air purification system
3. Gas analysis system
4. Habitable compartment pressure integrity monitoring system
5. Interface pressure integrity monitoring system
6. Temperature and humidity control
Oxygen Supply System
This system comprises the Elektron unit (. Fig. 5.19) and two solid fuel oxygen

generators. The Elektron, which generates oxygen by means of the electrochemical

decomposition of water, is the primary source of oxygen. The unit comprises a liquid
.. Fig. 5.19 Andrei Borisenko (L), Alexander Samokutyaev (C), and Sergey Volkov (R) display the
Elektron oxygen generator in Zvezda. Credit: NASA
loop containing 30 percent potassium hydroxide, gas lines, and electromagnetic

valves. The liquid loop features an electrolysis unit, heat exchangers, a pump, and a
water storage tank. The pump circulates the electrolyte via the electrolysis unit, and
oxygen (and hydrogen) is generated by the electrolysis of water in the potassium
hydroxide solution. The oxygen is released directly into the module, while the hydro-
gen is vented into space. The unit is quite effective, decomposing 1 kilogram of water
per hour which yields 25 liters of oxygen per hour, which is sufficient to support one
astronaut or cosmonaut for 1 day. Controlling the Elektron is a computer which
monitors valve status, oxygen pressure, hydrogen concentration, and oxygen concen-
tration. If an exceedance is registered, a signal is sent to the Integrated Control
5 Panel, and if a threshold is exceeded, then an automatic shutdown is triggered.
The two solid fuel generators comprise a replaceable cartridge with igniter, a
striker mechanism, a filter, and a fan. The generators, which are activated if the
partial pressure of oxygen falls below 160 mmHg, are designed for thermal decom-
position of an oxygen compound that is packed into a cartridge. Each cartridge
generates 600 liters of oxygen, and the contents take up to 20 minutes to decompose.
Air Purification System
This system removes carbon dioxide and trace contaminants from the atmosphere.
The system includes the following assemblies:
1. Vozdukh carbon dioxide removal system
2. Carbon dioxide absorbent canisters
3. Trace contaminant control unit
4. Harmful contaminants control filter
Vozdukh Carbon Dioxide Removal System

The Vozdukh comprises three parts: a preliminary purification unit, a heat exchanger,
and an atmosphere purification unit. This system achieves its function of removing
carbon dioxide by removing the gas by molecular sieve beds, which comprise zeolite,
a porous, adsorbent material. The sieve beds operate via capillary action, and the
efficiency with which carbon dioxide is removed is dependent on the air flow rate,
the concentration of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, and the length of the adsorp-
tion/desorption cycle. Once the zeolite is saturated, the material is regenerated by
simply exposing the bed to vacuum. The system can operate in automatic and man-
ual modes, and as with all LSS systems, preset thresholds ensure the partial pressure
of carbon dioxide is maintained within nominal parameters.
Carbon Dioxide Absorbent Canisters

The carbon dioxide absorbent canisters are the backup to the Vozdukh. As with
most carbon dioxide LSS assemblies the canisters remove carbon dioxide using
LiOH.
171 5
Trace Contaminants Control Unit
This system, which comprises two regenerable activated charcoal cartridges, a cata-
lytic oxidizer, a filter, a fan, and valves, can be operated using either of two very
simple modes: one cartridge at a time or both cartridges simultaneously. In use, one
fan draws air through the filter and through the cartridges, which adsorb the car-
bon dioxide and contaminants.
Harmful Impurities Filter

This system, which comprises a replaceable cartridge (containing a chemical
sorbent and activated charcoal) and a catalyst (that oxidizes carbon monoxide
to carbon dioxide), absorbs gases such as ammonia, hydrogen sulfide, and
hydrocarbons.
Gas Analysis System
The gas analysis system, of which there are two (one for Zvezda and one for
Zarya), ensures round-the-clock monitoring of partial pressures of oxygen,
carbon dioxide, and hydrogen. The system operates within the following
ranges:
1. Partial pressure of oxygen: 0–350 mmHg
2. An alarm sounds if PPO2 falls below 120 mmHg
3. Partial pressure of carbon dioxide: 0–25 mmHg
4. An alarm sounds if PPCO2 rises above 20 mmHg
5. Partial pressure of water vapor: 0–30 mmHg
6. Hydrogen content: 0–2.5 %
Habitable Compartment Pressure Integrity Monitoring System

This system comprises various pressure monitoring devices/sensors linked to the
computer system, which is responsible for processing the data from the sensors and
ensuring parameters are within preset thresholds. If a low pressure drop rate is
detected, a warning signal is sent to the caution and warning panel, and a yellow
indicator light starts flashing. If a high pressure drop rate is detected, a red indica-
tor light starts flashing, and an audio alarm sounds.
Interface Pressure Integrity Monitors

This system comprises a series of pressure equalization valves, tunnel pressure
monitoring valves, and a vacuum manometer. The pressure equalization valves,
which are installed on pressurized bulkheads, are used to pressurize the docking
nodes. Information about the status of these valves is indicated on the Integrated
Control Panel. The tunnel pressure monitoring valve, which is controlled using a
two-position handle, is connected to the vacuum manometer to the chamber of the
node that is to be tested. The vacuum manometer is an aneroid device that mea-
sures total pressure in the ROS.
Temperature and Humidity Control
Temperature and humidity control is achieved using liquid-air heat exchangers. In

this system, air is cooled and heated automatically by two thermal control system
loops. Since convection does not occur naturally on the ISS, this system uses venti-
lation equipment to stir the air in the ROS.
Water Supply System
5 The ROS water supply system stores and supplies potable water, regenerates con-
densate, and provides water for crew hygiene. These functions are achieved by water
delivery through cargo vehicles (such as the Progress) and water regeneration. On
arrival at the ISS, water on board the Progress is pumped into the Rodnik system
located in Zvezda. It is the Rodnik system, which simply comprises two water
tanks, that provides the crew with potable water. Each tank can hold 210 liters of
water and the shelf life of the water is 365 days.
Atmospheric Condensate Water Regeneration System

This system generates potable water. Moisture that forms inside the ROS collects
as it condenses on the cold surfaces of the temperature and humidity control sys-
tem’s heat exchangers. The temperature and humidity control system directs the
condensate to the water regeneration system, which processes it into potable water.
Part of the processing includes purifying the water by passing it through columns
filled with resins and charcoal. Before the water is pronounced potable, it must pass
through a quality sensor that checks for contaminants. The system, which operates
around the clock, produces 1.2 to 1.3 liters per crewmember per day. This water is
received by the cosmonauts via dispenser valves of a distribution and heating unit.
Food Supply Facilities
These facilities, which are located in Zvezda, help cosmonauts store and prepare
food in addition to providing a means of collecting and storing food waste. Each
day, cosmonauts are provided breakfast, snack, lunch, and dinner with a combined
calorific value of 3000 kcal. This food, which has a shelf life of 240 days, is stored
in containers at ambient temperature or in the refrigerator. Freeze-dried foods
must be reconstituted with hot (72–83°C) or cold (10–45°C) water from the con-
densate water regeneration system, whereas food in cans (and bread) may be
warmed to 65°C in the electric food warmer, of which there are two in Zvezda. So,
say you fancy some warm bread. What do you do? Well, first you would remove the
bread from the outer plastic bag, insert the bread into the food warmer, dial the
temperature up to 65°C, and wait for around 30 minutes. Once the heating cycle is
complete, you would simply turn the heater off and remove the bread.
173 5
Refrigerator
This device stores food at temperatures between -5 and +10°C. The fridge is main-
tained once every 2 months, a process that requires all food to be removed and
turning the fridge into drying mode for 6 hours.
Sanitation and Hygiene Equipment

This system collects and preserves metabolic waste and collects water used for
washing hands. The system, which comprises a commode, urinal, and hand-wash
station, is located in Zvezda. It comprises the following elements:
1. Solid waste container
2. Urine collector
3. Chemical pretreat pump
4. Conserving agent (sulfuric acid) tank
5. Flush water pump
6. Dynamic gas–liquid separator
7. Urine container
8. Urine/water storage container
9. Odor absorption filter
10. Fan
11. Hand-wash control panel
12. Hand-operated pump
13. Water storage container
How does it work? First, you need to switch the fan on to make sure everything
moves in the right direction! Then, you complete your business, and the air flow
created by the fan draws solid waste into a porous bag inside the solid waste con-
tainer. Your urine, on the other hand (hopefully not literally, but this is micrograv-
ity after all and accidents do happen – talk to a cosmonaut if you don’t believe me),
is directed into the urine storage container, which activates the separator, fan, and
the chemical pretreatment. Once combined with sulfuric acid and water, urine is
directed into the dynamic gas-liquid separator. This is where the liquid and gas are
separated. The liquid part is sent to the urine container, while the airflow is directed
to the urine/water receptacle where a filter collects moisture from the air flow. Once
odor has been taken out of the air flow, it is routed back to the module. In terms of
actually operating the waste management system, it is not as easy or nearly as
straightforward as using a terrestrial system.
For successful operation, the following steps must be taken:
55 Check the toggle switch on the control panel is on.
To use the urine collector:

55 Lift funnel from the holder.
55 Remove the lid from funnel.
55 Set the manual valve to the open position on the funnel.

55 Verify the separator and dosage lights are on.
55 Verify airflow.
55 Hold funnel clear of the body.
55 20–30 sec. after finishing, close the manual valve on funnel.
55 Verify the separator and dosage lights are off.
55 Wipe funnel with washcloth and stow in the waste bag.
55 Install lid on the funnel.
55 Place funnel on holder.
5 For urination and defecation, the urine receptacle and solid/liquid waste collector
must be used as follows:
55 Remove lid from funnel.
55 Without lifting funnel from holder, open plug valve.
55 Verify separator light is on.
55 Verify airflow.
55 Prepare solid waste collector/insert collection bag.
55 Lift funnel from holder.
55 Use solid and liquid waste collector.
55 Lift seat, remove collection bag, and stow in solid waste container.
55 Wipe seat and funnel with washcloth/stow washcloth in waste bag.
55 Place funnel on holder.
55 Close lid on solid/liquid waste collector.
55 Close manual valve on funnel.
55 Verify separator light is off.
55 Install lid on funnel.
Fire Detection and Suppression System

This system comprises one detector system for Zarya and one for Zvezda, a dock-
ing module detection system, fire extinguishers, and rebreather-style breathing
apparatus. The “Signal” fire detection system, which comprises ten detectors (these
are tested every 10 days by the crew), is designed to detect a particle count two
times the reference value in the atmosphere. If the particle count is two to four
times the reference value, a Class 2 smoke alarm is raised. If the particle count is
four to ten times the reference value, a Class 1 fire alarm is raised. If this condition
occurs, the caution and warning system lights up in red and is accompanied by a
beeping sound. This status is automatically downlinked to mission control in
Moscow. In the event of a fire, crews would don their rebreather-style breathing
apparatus, which comprises a mask and a cartridge that contains an oxygen gener-
ating compound. The crewmember would then turn the starter lever on the mask
by 180°, an action that would puncture an acid capsule, which would release its
contents to react with aluminum oxide inside the briquette. Oxygen would then be
released, and the crewmember could turn their attention to deploying their porta-
ble fire extinguishers, each containing 2.5 kilograms of fire extinguishing foam.
Paradigms in Life Support
175 5
Each extinguisher when deployed is capable of 1-minute uninterrupted operation
and can be deployed in either liquid spray or foam mode. If an open fire occurs, the
liquid spray mode is used, whereas if only smoke is present, foam mode is used.
aradigms in Life Support: The Aggregation of Marginal Gains

P
and Thirsty Walls
»» We searched for small improvements everywhere and found countless opportunities.

Taken together, we felt they gave us a competitive advantage.
Sir Dave Brailsford, Director, Sky (now INEOS) Professional Cycling Team
The Aggregation of Marginal Gains
You may be wondering what a quote from a director of a professional cycling team
is doing in a textbook on life support systems, but I will explain. The aggregation
of marginal gains is a phrase/concept attributed to Sky cycling coach Dave
Brailsford, who not only led the British cycling team to ten gold medals at the
Beijing Olympics but is also credited with helping the Sky professional cycling
team (now INEOS) dominate the Tour de France in the 2010s.
The concept is very simple: by focusing on a 1 percent margin of improvement in
every aspect of performance, it is possible to achieve a significant improvement when
all those aggregations add up. For a professional cycling team, these marginal gains
included implementing very precise food preparation procedures and having the
cyclists bring their own mattresses and pillow with them when they traveled so they
could get a good night’s sleep before competition. In short, the concept is not a focus
on perfection, but rather a focus on progression and compounding improvements.
A similar approach has been applied to spacecraft life support systems. Over
many years of developing LSS technology, there have been no quantum leaps.
Instead, LSS technology has developed by applying the marginal gain approach:
filters have been refined, ventilation systems have been modified, and water recy-
cling has been made more efficient. These are small improvements, but collectively
they add up to a significant gain in terms of closing the LSS loop. As 2020 rolls into
2021, the LSS marginal gain approach continues, but there are some developments
that promise more than a marginal gain. One of these developments applies to the
air revitalization system and more specifically how the ARS system currently used
on board submarines may be adjusted for spacecraft.
Thirsty Walls
When discussing what life support systems do well and what they don’t do so well,
one system that fits into the latter category is the CDRA. One question asked by
students when I point out how difficult it is for the CDRA to do its job is this: Why
.. Fig. 5.20 The officer of the watch control room aboard the USN Ohio Class Guided Missile
Submarine USS Florida (SSGN 728) during operations in the Atlantic. Recent developments in life
support technology may result in submarine carbon dioxide scrubbing technologies being used on
spacecraft. Credit: USN
doesn’t NASA simply use the carbon dioxide removal systems used on submarines?
After all, submarines (. Fig. 5.20) carry over 100 crewmembers, and they don’t

seem to suffer from the effects of high carbon dioxide concentration.

As we know from our historical review of spacecraft life support systems, air
revitalization is achieved by directing air through ducts and removal beds, which
are packed with solids such as activated charcoal. But how does a submarine LSS
air revitalization system work? These systems tend to be liquid-based capture sys-
tems, which are more compact, power efficient, and a whole lot more reliable than
their space-based cousins. The problem until recently has been that these liquid-
based capture systems need gravity. That’s not to say such a system couldn’t work
in microgravity, but to do so would require a gas-permeable membrane, and the
problem with membranes is that they suffer from slow kinetics and are susceptible
to poisoning.
However, recent developments in additive manufacturing and capillary fluid
mechanics now make it possible to expose liquids to cabin air in microgravity,
which means that a reimagining of the spacecraft ARS is now possible. The name
applied to this concept is Thirsty Walls (. Fig. 5.21). This approach may reduce

the number of rotating elements in a traditional spacecraft ARS from 19 to 8 while

also eliminating the high pressure and high flow elements. It would achieve this by
using monoethanolamine (MEA), which is the liquid used to capture carbon diox-
ide on submarines [20]. Better still, there is some research suggesting that if MEA
Paradigms in Life Support
177 5
CO2 REMOVAL IL-CO2 CAPTURE
CABIN AIR IN CO2 DELIVERY

MAGNIFIED CROSS SECTION OF
IL COOLING BYFURCATED CAPILLARY TUBE
(WARM/HUMID)
LIQUID RECIR. PUMP
PLENUM
CABIN AIR HEAT

EXCHANGER CABIN AIR IN
(CO2 LADEN)
AIR CICULATION FANS
HUMIDITY CONDENSATE
REMOVAL
.. Fig. 5.21 The Thirsty Walls carbon dioxide removal concept. Credit: NASA
were replaced with ionic liquids, the ARS would be even more effective at scrub-
bing carbon dioxide than on submarines. If the system works, it would represent a
transformational improvement in ARS technology on spacecraft – a quantum leap,
as opposed to a marginal gain.
Key Terms
55 Advanced Closed-Loop System (ACLS)
55 Carbon Dioxide Concentration Subsystem (CCA)
55 Carbon Dioxide Reduction Assembly (CRA)
55 Catalytic Oxidizer Assembly (COA)
55 Charcoal Bed Assembly (CBA)
55 Common Carrier Air Assembly (CCAA)
55 Cooled Hydrophilic-Coated Heat Exchanger (CHX)
55 Crew Quarters (CQ)
55 Environmental Control and Life Support System (ECLSS)
55 Environmental and Thermal Operating System (ETHOS)
55 Fire Detection and Suppression System
55 Fire Water Mist (FWM)
55 Inter-module Ventilation (IMV)
55 International Standard Payload Rack (ISPR)
55 Life Support System (LSS)
55 Lithium Hydroxide (LiOH)
55 Monoethanolamine (MEA)
55 Nitrogen Line Shut-Off Valve (NLSOV)
55 Oxygen Generation Assembly (OGA)

55 Oxygen Recharge Compressor Assembly (ORCA)
55 Permanent Multipurpose Module (PMM)
55 Portable Breathing Apparatus (PBA)
55 Portable Fire Extinguisher (PFE)
55 Russian Orbital Segment (ROS)
55 Sorbent Bed Assembly (SBA)
55 Temperature and Humidity Control (THC)
55 Trace Contaminant Control System (TCCS)
55 United States Orbital Segment (USOS)
5 55 Urine Processing Assembly (UPA)
55 Vacuum Dump Device (VADD)
55 Vapor Compression Distillation (VCD)
55 Venting Dump Device (VEDD)
55 Venting Manual Return Valve (VEMRV)
55 Volatile Organic Compound (VOC)
55 Waste Line Shut-Off Valve (WLSOV)
55 Water Processing Assembly (WPA)
55 Water Pump Assembly (WPA)
??Review Questions
1. List the six subsystems of the USOS LSS.
2. What do the MPEVs do?
3. Explain how the CDRA scrubs carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.
4. What is the Sabatier reaction?
5. How does the TCCS remove contaminants from the atmosphere?
6. What is a VOC?
7. Describe the two ventilation processes in the USOS.
8. Explain the function of the VEDD, the WLSOV, the VEMRV, and the VADD.
9. List the five subsystems of the ROS LSS.
10. Explain the function of the Elektron unit.
11. How does the Vozdukh unit achieve its function?
12. What is the function of the Interface Pressure Integrity Monitors?
13. What is the difference between a Class 1 and a Class 2 alarm?
14. How might Thirsty Walls be used in a spacecraft LSS?
References
1. Wieland P O. (1994). Designing for human presence in space: An introduction to environmental
control and life support systems. NASA RP-1324:5~48, 185 219~225.
2. Space Station Program Node Element 1 to Node Element 3 Interface Control Document, Part 1;
SSP 41140, Revision E; August 24, 2005.
3. Node 1 Element to U.S. Laboratory Element Interface Control Document, Part 1; SSP 41141,
Revision F; December 10, 2004.
References
179 5
4. Boeing – Huntington Beach. (1988, Feb 13). International Space Station Node 1 pressure monitor-
ing and equalization ECLSS verification analysis report, MDC 96H0634B.
5. Boeing – Huntington Beach. (1988, Jan 30). International Space Station Node 1 atmosphere con-
trol system distribution pressure loss ECLSS verification analysis report, MDC 97H0374C.
6. Pressure Equalization of Vestibule with Node 1. Memorandum; 2-6920-ECLS-CHS-98-033;
August 11, 1998. CONTACT David E. Williams NASA, Lyndon B. Johnson Space
7. Roy, R. J. Final report for the SPE Oxygen Generation Assembly (OGA); NASA Contract
NAS8-38250-25; July 1995.
8. Gentry, G. J., Reysa, P. R., Williams, D. E. International Space Station (ISS) Environmental
Control and Life Support (ECLS) system overview of events: February 2004 – 2005. SAE Paper
2005- 01-2778, 35th International Conference on Environmental Systems, July 12-15, 2005,
Rome, Italy.
9. Williams, S. A. E. (2007). Paper 2007- 01-3099, 37th international conference on environmental
systems, July 9-12, 2007, Chicago, Il.
10. Murdoch, K., Perry, J., Smith, F. (2003). Sabatier engineering development unit; SAE 2003-01-
2496.
11. International Space Station (ISS) Environmental Control and Life Support (ECLS) System
Overview of Events: February 2006 – 2007, Gregory J. Gentry, Richard P. Reysa, David E.
12. Zapata, J. L., & Chang, H. S. Analysis of air ventilation and crew comfort for the International
Space Station Cupola. SAE 2002-01-2340.
13. Chang, H. S. Integrated computational fluid dynamics ventilation model for the International
Space Station. SAE2005-01-2794.
14. Son, C. H., Barker, R. S., & McGraw, E. H. Numerical prediction and evaluation of space station
intermodule ventilation and air distribution performance. SAE941509.
15. Abbud-Madrid, A., Amon, F. K., & McKinnon, J. T. The MIST experiment on STS-107; fighting
fire in microgravity, 42nd AIAA Aerospace Sciences Meeting,1/5-8/2004, Reno Nevada.
16. Carriere, T., Butz, J., Naha, S., & Abbud-Madrid, A. Fire suppression tests using a handheld water
mist extinguisher designed for spacecraft application, SUPDET 2012 Conference Proceedings,
March 5–8, 2012, Phoenix, Arizona.
17. Portable Fire Extinguisher (FWM PFE), Revision A, September 2012.
18. Carter, D.L., Tobias, B., & Orozco, N. Status of the regenerative ECLSS water recovery system,
AIAA 1278029, presented at the 42nd International Conference on Environmental Systems, San
Diego, California, July, 2012.
19. Carter, D. L., & Orozco, N. Status of the regenerative ECLSS water recovery system, AIAA
1021863, presented at the 41st international conference on environmental systems, Portland,
Oregon, July, 2011.
20. Dr. John Graf Dr. Mark Weislogel, Professor Thirsty Walls: A New Paradigm for Air

Revitalization in Life Support. Final Technical Report of NIAC Phase 1 Study March 09, 2016
NASA Grant and Cooperative Agreement Number: NNH-15ZOA001N-15NIAC (Proposal
#15-NIAC-15A0134) NIAC Phase I Study Period: June 2015 to March 2016.
181 6
Extravehicular
Activity
Credit: ESA
Contents
Extravehicular Activity Mobility Units – 183

E MU Elements – 184
Donning the EMU – 187
xtravehicular Activity Prebreathe

E
Protocols – 188
istory of Prebreathe Protocols – 189
H
Select Prebreathe Protocols – 189

Airlock – 192
Treatment of Decompression Sickness – 193
Ebullism – 194
Summary – 195
References – 196
E xtravehicular Activity Mobility Units
183 6
55 Name the key elements that comprise the EMU
55 Explain the function of the LCVG and LTA
55 Describe how the EMU is donned
55 Explain the rationale for the prebreathe
55 Explain what is meant by denitrogenation
55 Describe the ISLE protocol
55 List four signs of DCS
55 Explain how DCS is treated
Introduction
Without an extravehicular activity (EVA) capability, the ISS could not have been
constructed. Period. Not only is EVA vital for the construction of orbiting out-
posts, but it also enables essential maintenance and repair activities to be con-
ducted. EVA equipment – the extravehicular mobility unit, or EMU – is basically a
life support suit that includes a portable life support system capable of providing
its occupant with oxygen and removing carbon dioxide, just like the life support
system on board the ISS. These EMUs are highly complex and extremely expensive
(each one costs about $10 million), and their design crosses myriad engineering
disciplines. Not surprisingly, training for an EVA is a time-consuming and exacting
task, with at least 6 hours of practice required for every 1 hour of planned
EVA. Then there is the issue of prebreathing, a carefully planned procedure that
must precede each and every EVA. We’ll learn about the prebreathe and all the
other factors that comprise EVAs and EMUs in this chapter.
Extravehicular Activity Mobility Units
Extravehicular activity mobility units, or EMUs, provide astronauts with a pres-

surized environment, a supply of oxygen, removal of carbon dioxide, temperature
and humidity control, and micrometeoroid/orbital debris (MMOD) protection.
Components of the suit are available in different sizes, generally small, medium,
and large, and are designed to fit male and female astronauts from the 5th to 95th
percentile body size/height. A portable life support system (aka the backpack, aka
PLSS) provides astronauts with life support system expendables, including oxygen,
a battery, water for drinking and cooling, lithium hydroxide for removing carbon
dioxide, and a 30-minute reserve of oxygen. The PLSS provides 7 hours of expend-
ables as follows:
1. 15-min donning
2. 6 hours EVA
3. 15-min doffing
4. 30-min reserve/contingency
184 Chapter 6 · Extravehicular Activity
EMU Elements
An EMU (. Fig. 6.1), which weighs 225 pounds and is pressurized to 4 psi, is

designed for a 15-year life. It comprises a hard upper torso (HUT), lower torso
assembly (LTA), liquid ventilation cooling garment (LVCG), gloves, helmet, com-
munications carrier assembly (CCA), urine collection device (UCD), and bioin-
strumentation system.
HUT and PLSS
The HUT provides the structural mounting for the helmet, arms, LTA, PLSS, dis-
play and control module (DCM), and electrical harness. The PLSS provides a
structural mounting for oxygen bottles, water storage tanks, a fan, a separator and
pump motor assembly, a sublimator, a contaminant control cartridge, regulators,
6
.. Fig. 6.1 The EMU. Rick
Mastracchio about to head out on
an ISS construction EVA. During
the 6-hour, 17-minute spacewalk,
Mastracchio, together with Dave
Williams, attached the Starboard
5 truss and retracted the forward
heat-rejecting radiator from the
station’s Port 6 truss. Credit:
NASA
185 6
valves, communications, and bioinstrumentation. Attached to the base of the
PLSS is a secondary oxygen pack that contains 2.6 pounds of oxygen pressurized
to 6000 psi. Other expendables contained within the PLSS include 1.2 pounds of
oxygen stored at 850 psi, ten pounds of water for cooling, and lithium hydroxide,
which is stored in the contaminant control cartridge.
LTA
The LTA comprises pants and knee and ankle joints and connects to the HUT
using a waist ring. It is a multilayered system that includes a pressure bladder made
of urethane-coated nylon, a restraining Dacron layer, an outer neoprene-coated
nylon layer, four Mylar layers, and an outer layer of Goretex and Nomex. The
gloves, which are available in 15 sizes, feature wrist connections, a wrist joint, and
padding insulation for the palms and fingers.
Helmet
The helmet is made of polycarbonate that features a neck disconnect and ven-
tilation pad. The assembly that slips over the helmet features various visors
that can be adjusted by the astronaut to provide shielding from the sun, ultra-
violet radiation, and micrometeoroids. Attached to either side of the helmet are
two EVA lights (there is provision for mounting a video camera to the helmet
too). Under the helmet is the Snoopy cap that features a microphone and head-
phones.
LVCG and CO2
The LVCG, which weighs 6.5 pounds, has tubes integrated into the suit that circu-
late water to provide cooling. The tubing is 300 feet long and carries 240 pounds of
water per hour through the system (. Fig. 6.2). The controls for the LVCG can be

found on the DCM. Worn underneath the LVCG is the UCD, which can store
about one quart of urine. Potable water is stored in the in-suit drink bag that can
store 0.5 quarts of water. A tube from the HUT allows the astronaut to drink while
suited. To remove carbon dioxide, the EMU relies on a cartridge comprising lith-
ium hydroxide, charcoal, and filters. The cartridge is replaced following each
EVA. Power for the whole kit and caboodle comes from silver-zinc rechargeable
batteries.
Communication
Astronauts communicate with the ISS via the EVA communicator and EMY
antenna. The communicator also telemeters the astronauts’ ECG to the ISS. EVA
radios, which weigh 8.7 pounds, have two single-UHF transmitters, three single-
channel receivers, and a switching mechanism.
Instrumentation
The EMU electrical harness is integrated to the PLSS and provides biomedical
instrumentation and connections for communications. Connected to the harness
are the CCA and the bioinstrumentation system. Attached to the astronaut are
.. Fig. 6.2 Cutaway of the EMU showing how the LCVG is integrated into the suit. Credit: NASA
ECG sensors, which are routed via the bioinstrumentation system to the commu-
nications system. Another instrumentation element is the DCM, which is attached
to the HUT. This module features electrical controls, and a digital display of EMU
controls that the astronauts can see while wearing the EMU. The DCM, which also
enables astronauts to control the PLSS and the secondary oxygen pack, features a
suit purge valve, a LCVG valve, and a control actuator for oxygen, which can be set
to four positions. Additional controls include a voice communication switch, a
power mode switch, and a digital display brightness control. Systems checks can
also be scrolled through by the astronaut using the DCM, a feature that allows the
astronaut to check the health of various systems such as the status of the primary
oxygen tanks.
Oxygen
Oxygen enters the suit at the helmet. From there, it flows down the suit, and return
air is directed through the contaminant control cartridge (CCC). Here, lithium
hydroxide and charcoal remove carbon dioxide and odors. After passing through
the CCC, oxygen is directed through a water separator which removes moisture.
Oxygen is then directed through the fan before being routed through the sublima-
tor, which cools the oxygen to 85°F. Finally, the oxygen passes through a vent and
flow detector and is routed back into the suit. To protect the suit from excess pres-
sure or oxygen depletion, the EMU features various sensors and the secondary
oxygen pack which can maintain suit pressure at 3.45 psi.
187 6
Cooling Water System
This subsystem directs warm water from the LCVG and separates it into two
loops. One loop is routed to the sublimator, where the water is cooled and
returned to the cooling control valve. The second loop directs water to the cool-
ing control valve directly. This is where the loops reunite, and full flow is chan-
neled back into the LCVG. This arrangement ensures the LCVG has an
uninterrupted flow of cooling water. During the process, the flow of water from
the LCVG is first channeled through the gas separator, which removes gas from
the loop, and then through a pump that regulates the flow at 260 pounds per
hour. A side loop circulates 20 pounds per hour via the CCC to cool the lithium
hydroxide canister.
PLSS Sensors
The PLSS is equipped with myriad sensors, including ones to detect air pres-
sure, air flow, water pressure, water temperature, and carbon dioxide partial
pressure. In addition to the sensors, the astronauts have various valves available
that allow them to purge oxygen, change the cooling, check oxygen supply, and
check pressure.
Donning the EMU
Prior to donning the EMU, astronauts must first begin the process of prebreath-
ing, an explanation of which follows this section. Donning the EMU (see
Appendix V for a more detailed explanation) can best be explained in a series of
22 steps as follows:
1. Don the MAG
2. Don the LCVG
3. Attach the EEH to the HUT
4. Attach the DCM to the HUT (PLSS is pre-attached to the HUT)
5. Attach the arms to the HUT
6. Rub helmet with anti-fog solution
7. Attach wrist mirror and checklist on the sleeves
8. Insert a food bar and water-filled IDB inside the HUT
9. Check lights and TV cameras on the EVA
10. Place EVA over the helmet
11. Connect CCA to the EEH
12. Step into LTA and pull it above waist
13. Plug SCU into DCM
14. Wriggle into HUT
15. Attach the cooling tubes of the LVCG to the PLSS
16. Attach the EEH electrical connections to the PLSS
17. Lock the LTA to the HUT
18. Put on the CCA
19. Put on comfort gloves
20. Lock on helmet and EVA

21. Lock outer gloves
22. Check EMU for leaks by increasing the pressure to 0.20 atm above airlock
pressure
Extravehicular Activity Prebreathe Protocols
Crews inside the ISS breathe air at a pressure of 14.7 pounds per square inch (psi),
but the pressure inside the EMU is 4.3 psi. The lower pressure is necessary because
operating a spacesuit at the same pressure as inside the ISS would result in a large
pressure differential between the EMU and the vacuum of space. So, this means
the pressure inside the EMU must be reduced. By reducing suit pressure, space-
6 walking astronauts find it easier to move around, but there is a disadvantage of
operating at a lower pressure. The disadvantage is that when transitioning from a
high to a low pressure, there is a risk of nitrogen bubbles forming in the blood.
These bubbles can cause decompression sickness or DCS. In an effort to prevent
DCS, various prebreathe protocols have been developed. Some of these protocols
were performed at rest, others used exercise to accelerate nitrogen removal (a pro-
cedure termed denitrogenation), and yet others applied staged protocols [1, 2, 3].
One such protocol is the in-suit light exercise (ISLE) protocol [4, 5, 6]. To date, this
protocol and others that preceded it have been effective in avoiding the occurrence
of DCS. Having said that, although there have been no DCS incidences, there are
procedures in place in the event that an astronaut suffers from decompression
sickness. These procedures and select protocols developed for avoiding DCS will
be discussed here.
We'll begin with the risk of nitrogen bubbles forming the blood. Under normal
atmospheric conditions, nitrogen is dissolved in the blood and tissues. But when
pressure is reduced quickly, nitrogen comes out of solution and forms bubbles. An
analogy to this is when opening a can of Coke – as soon as the can is opened, the
dissolved carbon dioxide instantly forms bubbles due to the reduction in pressure.
In the body, nitrogen bubbles released into the bloodstream can lead to a constel-
lation of symptoms ranging from numbness to joint pain to death (. Table 6.1).

The term applied to describe bubble formation in the tissues and blood caused by a
reduction in environmental pressure is venous gas emboli (VGE) [7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12],
which can be detected using ultrasound imaging.
A high number of VGE results in decompression sickness (DCS), also known
as “the bends” [13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18]. During the Shuttle era, DCS risk was reduced
by implementing an oxygen prebreathe protocol that washed out tissue nitrogen
before EVAs. But during the ISS era, with oxygen being a limited resource, it was
necessary to develop a protocol that reduced the amount of oxygen used. One such
protocol was the aforementioned ISLE, which is discussed later. But first, a brief
overview of the history of the prebreathe protocol.
189 6
.. Table 6.1 Symptoms of decompression sickness, listed from most commonly to least
commonly reported
Pain, especially near joints Muscles discomfort

Numbness or paresthesia Impaired cognitive function
Headache, light-headedness, and Pulmonary problems (“the chokes”)
fatigue
Malaise, nausea, vomiting Impaired coordination
Dizziness, vertigo Reduced consciousness
Motor weakness Lymphatic concerns such as swelling
Skin mottling Compromised cardiovascular function
History of Prebreathe Protocols
Prebreathe (PB) protocols have been developed since the 1970s. Some used math-
ematical modeling, some used simulations, and some used human testing [19, 20,
21, 22, 23], but one common denominator applied to protocol development
(. Table 6.2) was designing the protocol with operational issues in mind. During

the ISS era, the focus on operations has not changed, but as more data was gener-
ated, the prebreathe protocol evolved. Early in the evolution of protocol develop-
ment, prebreathe protocols lasted up to 4 hours. Then exercise was added as a
variable [14, 24, 25, 26, 27], and the length of protocols was reduced. The reason
for adding exercise was that it accelerated the rate of denitrogenation. In addition
to including exercise to accelerate denitrogenation, staged decompression proto-
cols were developed until eventually a 2-hour exercise prebreathe protocol – the
ISLE – was developed for ISS.
Select Prebreathe Protocols
To date, prebreathe protocols have been employed very successfully, with no

reported cases of DCS. A major reason for this safety record has been the
robustness of experimental ground-based protocols that have involved hun-
dreds of tests conducted by hundreds of subjects. One of the major changes to
the protocol occurred during the transition from the Shuttle Program to ISS
operations. Astronauts performing EVAs from the Shuttle had to undergo a
lengthy decompression protocol, which reduced mission efficiency [25, 28].
With construction of the ISS requiring more than 160 EVAs, NASA had to
design a more efficient decompression protocol, some of which are reviewed
here.
.. Table 6.2 Prebreathe Protocols
(a) Campout prebreathe protocol proposed 08/16/04

1 30-min oxygen prebreathe
2 31-min oxygen depressurization from 14.7 to 10.2 psi
3 8 hours 40 min at 10.2 psi/26.5% oxygen
4 10-min repressurization to 14.7 psi on oxygen prebreathe
5 30-min hygiene break while still on oxygen prebreathe
6 31-min oxygen depressurization to 10.2 psi
7 60-min suit donning at 10.2 psi while on 26.5% oxygen
6 8 17-min purge and leak check
9 40-min oxygen in-suit prebreathe
10 10-min additional in-suit prebreathe
11 30-min depressurization to 4.3 psi
(b) Exercise prebreathe protocol as flown on ISS
1 10-min dual-cycle ergometer at 75% of Vo2 for last 7 min
2 24-min of intermittent exercise starting 55 min into PB and ending 95 min
3 30-min ascent to 10.2 psi on 100% oxygen
4 30-min at 10.2 psi breathing 73.5% N2 and 26.5% oxygen
5 17-min purge and leak check
6 5-min on 100% oxygen then descent to 14.7 psi
7 35-min in-suit PB
8 20-min additional in-suit PB to compensate for no in-suit Doppler
9 30-min ascent to 4.3 psi
The In-Suit Light Exercise Protocol

After testing various protocols beginning in 1997, NASA eventually zeroed in on a
promising protocol known as the Phase V-5 Protocol. The testing for this protocol
comprised a multicenter trial that included test participants representative of the
astronaut population with respect to age, gender, fitness, and percentage body fat.
The final protocol consists of the steps outlined below.
1. 60 minutes of exercise breathing oxygen while simultaneously preparing for the
EVA, followed by depressurization to 10.2 psi while conducting light exercise
(at 5.8 ml per kilogram of body weight per minute of exercise) breathing
enriched air.
2. 30-minute suit donning at 10.2 psi.
191 6
3. 50 minutes in-suit light activity at 6.8 ml per kilogram of body weight per
minute of exercise – equivalent to walking a mile in 70 minutes – while
breathing oxygen.
4. 50 minutes in-suit prebreathe at rest, breathing oxygen.
The ISLE (. Fig. 6.3) has its advantages and disadvantages. One disadvantage is

a longer in-suit prebreathe and the challenges of monitoring metabolism, but this
is outweighed by the advantages, one of which is saving 2.5 kilograms of oxygen
per EVA compared with the Shuttle protocol. This advantage is a significant one
because oxygen is a much more limited resource on the ISS than on the Shuttle. A
second advantage is the reduced time astronauts have to spend with masks on
(. Fig. 6.4), and a third is not having the astronauts isolated in the airlock.

Prebreathe Flight Simulation

Ascent 30,300 ft
Rest Light Exercise (EVA Prep) Light In-Suit Exercise Rest Rest Light Exercise
(5.8 mL*kg-1*min-1) (6.8 mL*kg-1*min-1)
Depress to 10.2
Repr
psi
40 min 20 min 5 45 min
60 min 30 min 50 min 50 min
130 min 190 min 30 min 240 min
Air Oxygen 0.265 Oxygen Oxygen
.. Fig. 6.3 Timeline of the ISLE prebreathe protocol. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 6.4 Shane Kimbrough (R) and Thomas Pesquet (L) conduct a prebreathe inside Quest, the
ISS module that includes the airlock and equipment lock (where the spacesuits are stored). During
their EVA, the astronauts installed new adapter plates and hooked up electrical connections for new
lithium-ion batteries. Credit: NASA
Campout Procedure
A second protocol, also used on the ISS, is the campout protocol, which has the two
EVA astronauts “camp out” in the airlock at 10.2 psi, with an oxygen concentra-
tion of 26.5 % during the night preceding the spacewalk. The time spent at 10.2 psi
is 8 hours and 40 minutes, and most of this time is spent sleeping. After waking, the
astronauts are repressurized to 14.7 psi while breathing 100% using a mask. They
breathe oxygen for 70 minutes, during which time they eat a snack and use the
restroom. Then they resume breathing 26.5% oxygen at 10.2 psi, masks are
removed, and the astronauts begin donning their suits. After the suits are donned,
the airlock is repressurized to 14.7 psi, and a third astronaut enters the airlock to
assist with the prebreathe before final depressurization to the vacuum of space.
This final phase lasts 50 minutes.
6 ycle Ergometer with Vibration Isolation and Stabilization
C
Protocol
A third protocol is the cycle ergometer with vibration isolation and stabilization
(CEVIS) protocol. Prior to launch, astronauts who will be using the CEVIS pro-
tocol perform a maximum oxygen uptake test using leg ergometry. Based on the
results of this test, an exercise protocol is devised that distributes the workload
between 12% upper body and 88% lower body. When preparing for the EVA, the
astronauts breathe oxygen via a mask and perform 3 minutes of exercise at 75
revolutions per minute, starting at a workload of 37.5% of their maximum oxygen
uptake. Gradually, this exercise intensity is increased to 50%, then 62.5% of maxi-
mal oxygen uptake, and finally 7 minutes at 75% of their maximal oxygen uptake.
After completing their exercise, the astronauts breathe pure oxygen for another 50
minutes, and the airlock is depressurized to 10.2 psi over a period of 30 minutes.
During the depressurization period, the astronauts don their LCVG and the
LTA. Then, once the airlock oxygen concentration is stabilized at 26.5%, the astro-
nauts remove their masks and complete donning of the spacesuit. The advantage
of this protocol is that for much of the PB phase, astronauts are actively engaged
in donning the suit. Following donning, the astronauts perform a leak check and
then purge using 100% oxygen. Once this phase is complete, the astronauts begin
the in-suit PB phase, which begins with a 5-minute depressurization to 14.7 psi.
This phase, which lasts for 55 minutes, is followed by airlock depressurization and
suit depressurization to 4.3 psi.
Airlock
On board the ISS, the place where astronauts conduct their prebreathe, is the Quest
module (. Fig. 6.5). Quest is divided into the equipment lock, which is where the

suits are stored, and the airlock, which is where the astronauts egress and ingress
the station.
Treatment of Decompression Sickness
193 6
.. Fig. 6.5 A review of the prebreathe and the dimensions of Quest. Credit: ESA
Treatment of Decompression Sickness
Although there have been no incidences of DCS on board the ISS, there are proce-
dures in place in the event that an astronaut suffers the bends [29]. DCS treatment
on orbit is similar to treatment on Earth, requiring the administration of fluids and
hyperbaric oxygen depending on the severity of symptoms. A limited neurological
examination is available during the course of DCS treatment. If an astronaut was
diagnosed with DCS on ISS today, they would be repressurized to maximum cabin
atmosphere immediately while continuing to breathe 100% oxygen. If symptoms
did not resolve, the Bends Treatment Adapter (BTA) would be installed, and a
maximum suit overpressure of 8 psi could be applied so the astronaut would be
breathing at 24 psi (subjecting the suit to this pressure would run the risk of ground-
ing the suit for operational use). At this pressure, there would be more than an 80%
decrease in the volume of gas, and symptoms would be expected to subside. Note:
during the Shuttle era, there was an option to return to Earth, but that option is
not available to ISS crews and nor will it be for lunar or Mars crews in the future.
Ebullism
Ebullism, an occupational hazard among spacefarers, is a term that describes the

outcome of exposure of the body to vacuum [30, 31]. Such an event, which could
occur during a severe EVA mishap, would result in profound and life-threatening
physiological consequences that probably couldn't be treated by an on board
recompression facility.
So, what happens to a human exposed to a vacuum? First, damage to the pul-
6 monary tissue would be catastrophic due to dramatic overpressure caused by the
extraordinary pressure differential [32]. This pressure differential would cause tear-
ing of the pulmonary tissue, alveoli rupturing, hemorrhaging, and atelectasis [33].
While this damage is being inflicted on the pulmonary system, the cardiovascular
system would fare little better. The myocardium would be stretched, and cardiac
contractility would only be maintained for a 5 or 6 minutes at most. Initially, due
to anoxia [30, 34], the heart would try to compensate by increasing heart rate for
about 15 to 20 seconds, but heart rate would fall below baseline within just one
minute. One minute later, the arterial pressure wave would be lost. Damage to the
central nervous system would be inflicted by severely reduced cerebral blood flow
and cerebral anoxia. Additionally, ischemia and thrombosis caused by the block-
age of blood flow at the blood-bubble interface would quickly inflict impaired cog-
nitive function.
While this constellation of symptoms suggests ebullism would probably be a
fatal event, the reality may be slightly different. For example, primate studies con-
ducted during the Apollo Program that exposed research subjects to 120,000-foot
altitude revealed a 94% rate of survival [35, 36, 37, 38]. Given this survival rate,
treatment protocols could be developed. Currently there are no such protocols, but
research suggests there is a way to save an astronaut exposed to such an event. The
first step would be immediate return to pressure since this would reverse the VGE
and reduce tissue swelling which in turn would permit further treatment. Once the
patient had been returned to the spacecraft habitat, hyperbaric oxygen therapy
could be applied. Research has shown that pressure as high as six atmospheres
would probably need to be used since a 100% oxygen atmosphere could not be used
due to toxicity. The next step would necessitate endotracheal suctioning and intu-
bation in an effort to prevent pulmonary barotrauma and cardiac compromise.
The internal bleeding the patient would have suffered could be treated by the use of
fluid expanders such as Dextran. Another step in treatment could be the use of a
defibrillator in an attempt to stabilize cardiac contractility. Finally, a drug treat-
ment designed to counter peripheral vascular insufficiency and cerebral hypoxia
and prevent calcium loading would be required.
Summary
195 6
Summary
DCS is an occupational hazard for those who venture into space. To date, this mis-
sion risk has been mitigated effectively by applying rigorously tested prebreathe
protocols that have been validated specifically for spaceflight. But planned mis-
sions beyond Earth orbit will require the development and validation of enhanced
prebreathe protocols and research into the viability of using variable-pressure EVA
suits as a means of mitigating the DCS risk.
Key Terms
55 Bends Treatment Adapter (BTA)
55 Common Carrier Assembly (CCA)
55 Contaminant Control (CCC)
55 Cycle Ergometer with Vibration Isolation and Stabilization (CEVIS)
55 Decompression Sickness (DCS)
55 Display Control Module (DCM)
55 Extravehicular Activity Unit (EMU)
55 Hard Upper Torso (HUT)
55 Liquid Cooling Ventilation Garment (LCVG)
55 Lower Torso Assembly (LTA)
55 Micrometeoroid Orbital Debris (MMOD)
55 Portable Life Support System (PLSS)
55 Urine Collection Device (UCD)
55 Venous Gas Emboli (VGE)
??Review Questions
1. List any six elements that comprise the EMU.
2. What is the function of the LCVG?
3. List four functions of the PLSS.
4. What is the CCC used for?
5. What are VGE and how can they be detected?
6. What is meant by the term denitrogenation?
7. List six symptoms of DCS.
8. What are the four stages of the ISLE?
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34. Dunn, J. E., Bancroft, R. W., Haymaker, W., & Foft, D. W. (1965). Experimental Animal
Decompressions to Less Than 2 mmHg Abs. (Pathological Effects). Aerospace Medicine, 36,
725–732.
35. Burch, B. H., Kemp, J. P., Vail, E. G., Frye, S. A., & Hitchcock, F. A. (1952). Some Effects of
Explosive Decompression and Subsequent Exposure to 30 mmHg Upon the Hearts of Dogs.
Journal of Aviation Medicine, 23, 159–167.
36. Cooke, J. P., & Bancroft, R. W. (1966). Some Cardiovascular Responses in Anesthetized Dogs
During Repeated Decompressions to a Near-Vacuum. Aerospace Medicine, 37,
1148–1152.
37. Edelmann, A., Whitehorn, W. V., Lein, A., & Hitchcock, F. A. Pathological Lesions Produced by
Explosive Decompression, WADC-TR-51-191.
38. Koestler, A. G. (1967). Replication and Extension of Rapid Decompression of Chimpanzees to a
Near Vacuum. ARL-TR-67-2, Aeromedical Research Lab, Holloman Air Force Base.
Suggested Reading
Conkin, J., Gernhardt, M. L., Powell, M. R., & Pollock N. (2004). A probability model of decom-
pression sickness at 4.3 psia after exercise prebreathe. NASA Technical Publication NASA/
TP-2004-213158, Houston: Johnson Space Center
Jenkins, D. R. Dressing for Altitude: U.S. Aviation Pressure Suits, Wiley Post to Space Shuttle. NASA
SP; 2011-595). ISBN 978-0-16-090110-2. Also available as a free online book at: https://www.
nasa.gov/pdf/683215main_DressingAltitude-ebook.pdf.
6 Thomas, K. S., & McMann, H. J. (2006). US spacesuits. Springer-Praxis.
199 7
Countermeasures
Credit: NASA
Contents
Short History of the Application

A
of Exercise in Space – 202
Exercise Capacity – 208
Radiation Countermeasures – 210

S etting Acceptable Risk Levels for
Astronauts – 211
Permissible Exposure Limits – 212
The ALARA Principle – 216
Radiation Dosimetry and Detection – 217
Passive Dosimetry – 217
Intravehicular TEPC – 219

Shielding – 222
ater as a Radiation Shield – 224
W
Magnetic Shielding – 224
Electrical Shielding – 225
Linear Energy Transfer and Relative Biological
Effectiveness – 225
Polyethylene as a Shielding Material – 227
AstroRad Radiation Shield – 228
Pharmacological Countermeasures and
Radioprotectors – 228
Psychological Countermeasures – 233

Mars500 – 234
Protecting the Immune System – 236

ealth Countermeasures – 236
H
Supplements – 237
Pharmacological Countermeasures – 237
Exercise – 238
Vaccination – 238
References – 239
Introduction
201 7
55 Describe the history of exercise countermeasures in space
55 Describe the characteristics of the USOS Countermeasure Program
55 Explain what happens to exercise capacity during long duration spaceflight
55 Explain what is meant by the term permissible exposure limits in the context of
radiation exposure
55 Explain what is meant by the ALARA Principle
55 Explain what is meant by the AHARS Principle
55 Describe how active and passive dosimeters are used on the ISS
55 List four detectors used on ISS today and describe how each functions
55 Explain how the MATROSHKA experiment has helped estimate radiation
exposure
55 Explain the utility of water as a radiation shield
55 Explain what is meant by LET and RBE
55 Explain the mechanism of radiation injury and repair
55 List three potential pharmacological radiation countermeasures and explain
how they work
55 Describe how immune system function is suppressed in spaceflight
55 Describe how supplements can boost immune system function
Introduction
Spending time in space results in a number of physiological changes that may exert
a profound negative effect on astronaut health. These changes include a reduction
in maximum oxygen uptake, a reduction in muscle size and strength, and a reduc-
tion in bone mineral density (BMD). One way of managing these effects is by the
rigorous application of countermeasures such as exercise. During the International
Space Station (ISS) era, astronauts have had a choice of exercise equipment,
including the Advanced Resistive Exercise Device (ARED), the cycle ergometer,
the Flywheel Exercise Device (FWED), and the inventively named Combined
Operational Load Bearing Resistance Treadmill (COLBERT, after talk show host
Stephen Colbert).
But as space agencies turn their attention to missions beyond Earth orbit, these
countermeasures will assume ever more importance due to the sheer length of the
missions. We already know that astronauts lose 1.0 to 1.2 percent of their BMD
every month on orbit. While that is a significant amount of the bone, it is to a cer-
tain extent manageable, because astronauts spend only 6 months in LEO before
they return to the comforts of their respective agencies and the care of the reha-
bilitation specialists.
So what will happen during (and following) a Mars mission? First there is the
6-month outbound journey, during which astronauts will lose about seven percent
of their BMD. Then there is the surface stay. Now, the first mission will most likely
feature just 1 month on the surface and because Mars has a reduced gravity, astro-
nauts won’t lose quite as much bone, although they can still expect to lose about
202 Chapter 7 · Countermeasures
.. Fig. 7.1 Schematic of NASA’s Multi-purpose Crew Vehicle (MPCV), also known as Orion.
Credit: NASA
another half a percent of their BMD. But during the trip back to Earth, each crew-
member may lose another seven percent of their BMD (or more – we just don’t
know), which brings the total to about 15%. That could be catastrophic. Hence the
need for countermeasures. But compared with the roomy ISS, NASA’s spacecraft
(. Fig. 7.1) is tiny, which means space for countermeasures will be at a premium.

We’ll return to the subject of Mars-bound countermeasures later, but first, it is

instructive to take a look at the history of the use of exercise in space.
A Short History of the Application of Exercise in Space
For those interested in this subject, I refer you to Moore [1], who has written com-
prehensive accounts of the development of exercise countermeasures, and Hackney
[2], who has compiled a succinct summary of the exercise devices employed in each
program. The first application of exercise in the US space program was in Project
Mercury, when astronaut candidates were subjected to various exercise tests as part
of astronaut selection. Exercise was also a component of cosmonaut selection dur-
ing this era as depicted in . Fig. 7.2.

Despite the short Mercury missions, there were some postflight reports of pos-
tural hypotension following landing, which prompted NASA’s Medical Operations
Office to note that a “prescribed inflight exercise program may be necessary to
preclude symptoms in case of the need for an emergency egress soon after landing”
203 7
.. Fig. 7.2 Yuri Gagarin under-
goes exercise testing. Credit:
Russian Space Agency
[3]. In the Gemini Program, more extensive physiological testing was conducted.
And, since these missions were much longer, it wasn’t surprising that physiological
effects were more pronounced. For example, following the Gemini VII flight, it was
discovered that 14 days spent in space was sufficient to significantly reduce exercise
capacity. As a consequence of the biomedical results of the Gemini Program, it
was deemed prudent to implement inflight exercise as a countermeasure during the
Apollo Program. So, astronauts used a modified off-the-shelf inflight exercise
device (. Fig. 7.3). Although Apollo astronauts became the first to use exercise as

a countermeasure, the physiological benefits of the training were unclear, although

the astronauts did report that exercise helped them relax.
The next program was Skylab. Skylab hosted three crews and the length of the
missions (SL-2, 28 days; SL-3, 56 days; SL-4, 84 days) enabled a veritable treasure
trove of biomedical data to be collected. During SL-2, astronauts were allocated
30 minutes of exercise per day using the cycle ergometer (. Fig. 7.4). The time was

increased to 60 minutes per day during Skylab 3 and to 90 minutes per day during
Skylab 4.
.. Fig. 7.3 Spending a long time

in space can cause muscle atrophy
and loss of bone mass. To amelio-
rate these effects, astronauts used
an inflight exercise device that
permitted isometric and isotonic
exercise. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 7.4 Charles Conrad exercises on the cycle ergometer during Skylab 2. The ergometer was
used to conduct the vectorcardiogram experiment MO93 which assessed changes in the astronauts’
cardiovascular systems. Credit: NASA
The physiological data collected during Skylab was extensive and can be found
in the following 230 MB online document: 7 https://ntrs.nasa.gov/archive/nasa/

casi.ntrs.nasa.gov/19770026836.pdf. What follows is a (very!) brief snapshot of

those findings. In the Skylab-2 crew, leg extensor strength was reduced by ~25% (at
a rate of 0.9% per day) and by ~10% (at a rate of 0.1% per day) in the Skylab-4
205 7
crew. After landing, crews were able to stand and walk without difficulty. Exercise
capacity across all three missions seemed to suffer little to no decrement, despite
the limitations in ergometer capability. Perhaps thanks to the increased amount of
time spent exercising during Skylab-4, this crew’s cardiovascular parameters recov-
ered quicker than the preceding two crews.
Thanks to the Skylab data, exercise countermeasures were more defined at the
beginning of the Shuttle era which spanned 30 years and 135 flights. Missions
ranged from just 2 days to more than 17 days. The primary exercise device was the
cycle ergometer (. Fig. 7.5), although treadmills and a rowing ergometer were

also evaluated during the program. Shuttle flight rules required that exercise be
performed every other day by the Commander, Pilot, and Flight Engineer and
every third day for Mission Specialists, although the intensity and duration were
not prescribed [4]. The exercise countermeasures proved effective, as evidenced by
the fact that maximal oxygen uptake was maintained during flights that lasted up
to 2 weeks [4]. Later in the Shuttle Program, the Extended Duration Orbiter
Medical Project compared the effects on exercising and non-exercising crew. This
project revealed crews that exercised with greatest intensity experienced the small-
est reduction in maximal oxygen uptake and those crewmembers who exercised
most frequently (more than three sessions per week) showed the smallest reduction
in maximal oxygen uptake [4, 5].
As the ISS began operations, there was a greater emphasis on countermeasures
due to the sheer length of the missions. The ISS is divided into the Russian Orbital
Segment (ROS) and the United States Orbital Segment (USOS), which includes the
ESA module (Columbus) and JAXA module (Japanese Experiment Module or
JEM). We’ll discuss the ROS countermeasure capabilities shortly but first the
USOS side of the ISS. The primary exercise countermeasure devices in the USOS
include the ARED, the FWED, CEVIS, and COLBERT (. Table 7.1). For a

detailed description of the USOS countermeasure program, the reader is referred

to Hackney and Loehr [6, 7].
Now, you may be wondering how effective all this exercise is. Well, that’s diffi-
cult to say and here’s why. While on board ISS, all long duration mission astro-
nauts must abide by flight rules, which state quite clearly that all crewmembers
must perform exercise. No exceptions. So, this means it is impossible to compare
the effects of inflight exercise with no exercise. Having said that, there is a wealth
of data from long-duration missions. For example, we know that the rate of BMD
loss in ISS crew (3% at the lumbar spine and 6% at the hip) is less than measured
in Mir crews who flew missions of between 117 and 438 days [10]. Having said that,
there is a significant difference across crewmembers, with some astronauts losing
up to 15% of their BMD following a 6-month mission. That equates to a disturb-
ing 2.5% every month! [10]. Lately the trend is a gradual lowering of BMD loss in
astronauts. One reason is the change in countermeasure equipment. In the early
days of ISS, the go-to exercise equipment was the Interim Resistive Exercise Device
(IRED). The IRED (. Fig. 7.7), which was designed by SpiraFlex Inc, provided

astronauts with a linear resistance of up to 300 pounds and allowed crewmembers

to perform squats to load their legs and spine which take the biggest hit in micro-
gravity.
.. Fig. 7.5 Exercise countermeasures hardware over the years. Top row from L to R: Alexander
Gerst exercises using the advanced resistive exercise device (ARED) on the ISS (Credit: ESA/NASA).
Frank de Winne uses the T2 treadmill on ISS (Credit: NASA). Luca Parmitano uses the Cycle
Ergometer with Vibration Isolation and Stabilization System (CEVIS) on ISS (Credit: ESA/NASA).
Middle row L to R: Dan Tani, Expedition 16 Flight Engineer, uses the Interim Resistive Exercise
Device (iRED) (Credit: NASA). Joe Tanner, STS-97 Mission Specialist, uses the cycle ergometer
aboard Endeavour (Credit: NASA). Sandra Magnus, Expedition 18 Flight Engineer, uses the Tread-
mill with Vibration Isolation and Stabilization System (TVIS) (Credit: NASA). Bottom row L to
R. The Apollo Exerciser used by Apollo 11 astronauts. (Credit Smithsonian National Air and Space
Museum [NASM 2009-4775]). The Teflon-covered treadmill-like device used during Skylab 4 (Credit:
NASA)
207 7
.. Table 7.1 Characteristics of the USOS Countermeasure Program [8, 9]
Consists of aerobic and resistance exercise

High-frequency program, comprising two sessions per day (1 x 30 to 45 minutes of aerobic
exercise and 1 x 45 minutes of resistance exercise, 6 days per week
Multimodal, utilizing one resistance device such as the ARED and two aerobic devices such as
the COLBERT (. Fig. 7.6) and the CEVIS

Aerobic and resistance sessions are completed on the same day, usually with a minimal break
in-between because this saves time un-stowing/stowing exercise equipment
T2 allows running speeds up to 20.4 km/h with vertical loads equivalent to 54.4–68.0 kg
CEVIS provides workloads up to 350 W at 120 rpm
Aerobic sessions consist of steady state and interval-type protocols, with target intensities of
75–80 and 60–90% VO2max
ARED engages all major muscle groups, with loads up to 272 kg
Resistance protocols are multi-set, multi-repetition for lower and upper body, with initial loads
calculated from a 10-repetition maximum load (plus 75% of body weight to compensate for
the absence of body weight) and adjusted thereafter based on performance
.. Fig. 7.6 Dan Burbank, Expedition 30 commander, works out using the ARED, which is housed
in the Tranquility module of the ISS. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 7.7 JAXA astronaut Koichi Wakata, Expedition 20 Flight Engineer, completes his daily
workout on the IRED, which at the time was located in ESA’s Harmony module. The IRED, which
was installed on ISS in 2000, was the first resistive exercise device specifically designed for use in
space. It was used until 2009. Credit: NASA
Replacing IRED with ARED had a pronounced impact on BMD loss. In the
days of IRED, astronauts could expect to lose between 3.7 and 6.6% across all
bone sites, whereas in the days of ARED, astronauts may lose between 2.6 and
4.1%. Another bonus was the effect on muscle atrophy. Using ARED, astronauts
nowadays lose between 8 and 17% less muscle across all sites [11].
Exercise Capacity
Of course, countermeasures for bone loss and muscle atrophy comprise only part of
the suite of exercise equipment on ISS because astronauts must also maintain their
exercise capacity. One metric for measuring aerobic capacity is maximal oxygen
uptake, which measures the amount of oxygen utilized by each kilogram of body
weight per minute of exercise. Astronauts perform preflight, inflight (. Fig. 7.8),
and postflight measures of oxygen uptake, and, like all physical fitness metrics, there
is an observed decline in crewmembers’ ability to utilize oxygen. Why? First, there is
the issue of muscle atrophy. Imagine losing 20 to 25 percent of your respiratory
muscle mass (your intercostal and intracostal muscles). Obviously, that would make
breathing more difficult. And then of course there is the loss of working (skeletal
and cardiac) muscle mass. If your muscles – and heart! – are smaller, it stands to
Exercise Capacity
209 7
.. Fig. 7.8 Dan Burbank per-
forms a maximal oxygen uptake
test while exercising on the Cycle
Ergometer with Vibration Isola-
tion and Stabilization (CEVIS).
Credit: NASA
reason you will find it more difficult to work out. Compared with pre-flight data,
maximal oxygen uptake declines by between 15 and 25 percent [1, 12].
Generally, the exercise countermeasure systems, the evolution of these systems,
combined with the manipulation of exercise training regimes (continuous vs. inter-
val, high intensity vs. low intensity), has enabled moderate levels of cardiovascular
and cardiorespiratory adaptation. Having said that, as with bone loss, there is a
significant amount of individual variation, so exercise countermeasures still must
be optimized to take this variation into account.
With plans to venture further afield, optimizing exercise countermeasures will
be a significant challenge. That is because the transport that agency astronauts (as
opposed to certain obscenely wealthy commercial astronauts who may be ventur-
ing to the Red Planet on board the Starship) will be using to travel to Mars is
NASA’s Orion spacecraft, which has a habitable volume of less than nine cubic
meters (compared with more than 900 cubic meters on ISS) – not enough room to
swing the proverbial cat, never mind fitting in a variety of exercise countermea-
sures. So, replicating the exercise countermeasures and efficacy of ISS countermea-
.. Fig. 7.9 The interior of the

Orion spacecraft. Credit: NASA
7
.. Table 7.2 Research on exercise countermeasures
Individual variation: real variation vs. within-subject random variation [13]

High-intensity interval training: efficacy and safety [14, 16]
Strength development and maintenance: the contribution of different training variables to the
effectiveness of resistance training [15]
Concurrent training: the scheduling of aerobic and resistance exercise for maximizing training
gains [17]
Plyometric/impact exercise: effects on the musculoskeletal and cardiovascular systems [11]
The role of nutrition in promoting adaptations to exercise training [18]
Complementary strategies: CM that could enhance the effects of or reduce reliance on exercise [19]
sures on exploration missions beyond Earth orbit will prove almost impossible. To
that end, there has been a concerted effort to manipulate the exercise variables to
try and develop more effective exercise countermeasures that can be performed in
the confines of the Orion (. Fig. 7.9). The variables that have been tweaked include

mode, frequency, duration, workload, recovery, time under tension, and intensity.
A snapshot of some of the research conducted in recent years is listed in . Table 7.2
below.
Radiation Countermeasures
In addition to helping astronauts maintain their fitness, another key function of

any spacecraft life support system (LSS) is protecting astronauts from radiation.
211 7
Exactly how does radiation damage human physiology? An abundant molecule
in us is water, a key component of which is oxygen. The presence of oxygen is
important because molecular oxygen is key to the formation of reactive free radi-
cals. This means that in areas of high concentrations of oxygen, the effects of radi-
ation are increased. Conversely, in areas of low oxygen concentration, tissues and
cells are protected thanks to hypoxia.
Of all the free radicals, the hydroxyl radical is one of the most damaging. One
of the structures that this free radical damages is DNA, a key structure for cell
survival [20]. The hydroxyl radical, together with other oxidative radicals, is respon-
sible for double-strand breaks (DSBs) and base lesions. Although the body goes to
work repairing the damage, the process is not always successful, since if two base
lesions on opposite strands are too close, a double-strand break may occur.
This mechanism is known as the DNA damage response (DDR), and it is
affected by the radiation dose, the type of radiation, and the amount of tissue
exposed to that radiation. The damaged DNA material is repaired thanks to the
action of key proteins (MRE11, RAD50, and NBS1) which determine the damage
before binding the broken DNA strands together in a process that can proceed
along two pathways. One of these pathways is homology-directed repair (HDR)
which is a process that results in no errors. The other pathway is non-homologous
end joining (NHEJ), which is a process that results in sequence deletions. If cells
are not repaired successfully, genomic instability can result, which in turn can cause
mutations and carcinogenesis. The extent of the mutations and the degree of risk
of carcinogenesis will depend on the type of tissue, the radiation dose, and the
amount of tissue exposed to radiation [20]. How these mutations may occur is not
fully understood, but it is probably a result of damage to progenitor cells, blood
vessels, and persistent oxidative stress. An extra risk is repeated exposure to radia-
tion, which is definitely something deep space astronauts will be exposed to. In this
case, repeated inflammation will be the result, which will lead to fibrosis and
increased DNA damage, with possible outcomes being death, or at the very least,
permanent tissue damage.
Setting Acceptable Risk Levels for Astronauts
The permissible exposure levels (PELs) for radiation that NASA sets for its astro-
nauts are set to prevent inflight risks and to limit risk to a level that is acceptable
from an ethical, moral, and financial standpoint. In the 1960s and 1970s, PELs
were set based on recommendations made by the National Academy of Sciences
(NAS). In the 1980s, more data on radiation exposure had been accumulated, and
NASA asked the National Council on Radiation Protection (NCRP) to reassess
the dose limits for astronaut working in low Earth orbit. This reassessment culmi-
nated in the NCRP Report No. 98, published in 1989, which recommended age
and gender career dose limits that applied a 3 percent increase in cancer mortality
as a risk limit.
NCRP Report No. 98 was followed by revisions to the acceptable level of radi-
ation risk in LEO in NCRP reports published in 1997 and 2000 [21]. The astronaut
.. Table 7.3 Theoretical dose limits for 1-year missions based on 3% REIDa
E (mSv) for 3% REID (average life-loss per death [y])
Age at exposure Males Females
30 620 (15.7) 470 (15.7)

35 720 (15.4) 550 (15.3)
40 800 (15.0) 620 (14.7)
45 950 (14.2) 750 (14.0)
50 1150 (12.5) 920 (13.2)
55 1470 (11.5) 1120 (12.2)
aAdapted from: Radiation Risk acceptability and limitations. Cucinotta F. (7 https://three.jsc.

7 nasa.gov/articles/AstronautRadLimitsFC.pdf). 12-21-2010
risk level of a 3 percent1 increase risk in cancer over a lifetime is similar to the risk
level applied to workers in nuclear facilities. The difference is that the radiation
doses that nuclear workers are exposed to correspond to a lifetime of exposure to
relatively low radiation doses compared with the exposure limit in LEO. For exam-
ple, radiation workers in nuclear reactors rarely approach an annual average expo-
sure of 2 mSv. This is significantly below the effective dose of 80 mSv that astronauts
are exposed to during a 6-month increment on board the ISS. The point is that
ground workers are exposed to chronic exposure at low levels (compared with radi-
ation levels in LEO) of radiation over a long period of time, whereas astronauts are
exposed both chronic and acute radiation.
Permissible Exposure Limits
NASA’s PELs take into account a number of factors, including age, gender, latency
effects, differences in tissue types, and differences in lifespan between genders [22].
When all these factors are considered, a risk projection calculation can be made, and
a risk of exposure-induced death (REID) from fatal cancer can be made (. Table 7.3).
Another limit that NASA applies is one for non-cancer effects. For example,
radiation exposure may also cause prodromal effects such as nausea and fatigue,
and it may also cause heart disease, dementia, and central nervous system (CNS)
1 There are many approaches to setting acceptable risk levels. One is to set an unlimited risk level,
but this would not be popular with astronauts or their families. Another option is to base risk
on life loss from radiation-induced cancer against cancer deaths in the general population. The
current method uses the reference point of a ground-based radiation worker.
213 7
.. Table 7.4a Dose limits for short-term and career non-cancer effectsa
Organ 30-day limit 1-year limit Career limit
Lens 1000 mGy-Eqb 2000 mGy-Eq 4000 mGy-Eq

Skin 1500 3000 6000
Blood-forming organs 250 500 N/A
Heart 250 500 1000
Central nervous system 500 1000 1500
aAdapted from: Radiation Health Risk Projections Briefing to NAC HEOMD/SMD Joint
Committee 7 April 2015
bMilli-Gray Equivalent. The Standard International (SI) unit of absorbed dose is the gray
(Gy). 1 Gy is a measure of the absorption of one joule of radiation energy per kilogram. Note:
the gray is different from the Sievert (Sv), which is the SI unit that represents the biological
effect of radiation
.. Table 7.4b Tissue weighting factor calculated by attributing an estimate for a tissue’s
contribution to cancer
Organ Tissue weighting factor Organ Tissue weighting factor
Gonads 0.20 Liver 0.05

Bone marrow (red) 0.12 Esophagus 0.05
Colon 0.12 Thyroid 0.05
Lung 0.12 Skin 0.01
Stomach 0.12 Bone Surface 0.01
Bladder 0.05 Remainder 0.05
Breast 0.05 Adrenals, brain, intestine, kidney, muscle,
spleen
damage. For dose limits for non-cancer effects, NASA calculates the relative bio-
logical effectiveness (RBE) factor to the major organs of the body as indicated in
. Tables 7.4a and b.

Other space agencies such as the European Space Agency (ESA) and the
Russian Space Agency (RSA) estimate dose limits based on data published by the
International Commission on Radiological Protection (ICRP) [23]. While these
dose limits can be applied to LEO workers, there are no operationally approved
dose limits for deep space, although estimates have been made for the risk astro-
nauts will be subjected to when traveling to the Moon (. Fig. 7.10) or Mars
(. Table 7.5).

7
.. Fig. 7.10 The Artemis Program will return astronauts to the Moon by 2024. Credit: NASA
.. Table 7.5 Calculation of %-REID from fatal cancer for lunar or Mars missions at solar
minimum behind a 5-g/cm2 aluminum shield.a The effective dose, E, is averaged over tissues
susceptible to cancer risk
Mission type E, Sv %-REID

Males (40 years old)
Lunar (180 days) 0.17 0.68

Mars swingby (600 days) 1.03 4.0
Mars exploration (1000 days) 1.07 4.2
Females (40 years old)
Lunar (180 days) 0.17 0.82
Mars swingby (600 days) 1.03 4.9
Mars exploration (1000 days) 1.07 5.1
aAdapted from Cucinotta and Durante (2006)
The numbers presented in . Table 7.5 are not encouraging for space agen-

cies hoping to send astronauts to the Moon for lengthy stays or to Mars
(. Fig. 7.11). A lunar stay of 180 days results in an exposure of 170 mSv, which

is more than twice that of a 180-day stay on board the ISS. But a roundtrip to
Mars results in an exposure of more than 1000 mSv, which exceeds NASA’s
guidelines (. Tables 7.6a and b) stating that no astronaut be exposed to more

215 7
.. Fig. 7.11 NASA’s Journey to
Mars. Credit: NASA
.. Table 7.6a Career exposure limits for NASA Astronautsa
Age 25 35 45 55
Male 1.50 Sv 2.50 Sv 3.25 Sv 4.00 Sv

Females 1.00 Sv 1.75 Sv 2.50 Sv 3.00 Sv
aAn astronaut’s organ and career exposure limits are determined by age and gender. An aver-
age does for an Earthbound person is 0.0036 Sv, whereas someone who works in a nuclear
power plant may be exposed to as much as 0.05 Sv per year without exceeding International
Standards. As you can see, the limit for astronauts is significantly higher
.. Table 7.6b Depth of radiation penetration and exposure limits for astronauts and
public (Sv)
Exposure Blood-forming organs Eyes Skin

interval (5 cm depth) (0.3 cm depth) (0.01 cm depth)
Astronauts 30 days 0.25 1.0 1.5

Annual 0.50 2.0 3.0
Career 1–4 4.0 6.0
General Annual 0.001 0.015 0.05
public
than this amount of radiation in a lifetime. To exceed this limit is to increase the
risk of developing a fatal cancer by 5 percent or more. For astronauts embarking
on such a trip, the accumulated radiation dose would be akin to getting a whole
body computed tomography (CT) scan every 5 days [24, 25]. Also, exposure to
more than 1,000 mSv would not amount to a “measured dose” (i.e., over a life-
time) because crewmembers would receive this amount in less than 3 years.
Being exposed to such a large amount of radiation in such a short period of time
would result in changes at the cellular level and possibly mild acute radiation
syndrome (ARS) symptoms.
The ALARA Principle
While NASA may be able to reduce the amount of radiation exposure by extra
shielding, another option might be to apply a different risk strategy [26].
7 Traditionally, the agency has applied the maxim As Low As Reasonably Achievable
(ALARA) when it comes to exposing astronauts to radiation. Another option
may be to change this principle to As High As Relatively Safe (AHARS). Since
astronauts are exposed to so much radiation, they are classified as radiation work-
ers. But because they are exposed to so much radiation, the amount of radiation
that astronauts are exposed to exceeds all terrestrial limits. Which is why the
Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) gave NASA a waiver
that allowed the agency to create its own guidelines as outlined in this chapter. The
radiation risk may be reduced with the operationalization of faster propulsion
systems such as VASIMR (. Fig. 7.12), or it may be reduced with better shielding.

But until either or both of these technologies becomes available, radiation risk will
remain an intractable problem.
.. Fig. 7.12 Speed is every-

thing when it comes to keeping
astronauts safe. And VASIMR
(Variable Specific Impulse Mag-
netoplasma Rocket) fits the bill.
Capable of speeds approaching
230,000 kmh, this spacecraft
could reach Mars in less than 6
weeks. Credit: Ad Astra
217 7
Radiation Dosimetry and Detection
Radiation monitoring on board the ISS is conducted to gather, analyze, and char-
acterize the radiation environment to better ensure crew health [26, 27]. And thanks
to careful consideration of radiation effects, the station does a very good job of
protecting the crew. But given that astronauts are exposed to about 80 times the
terrestrial radiation dose, radiation exposure remains a limiting effect on an astro-
naut’s career, which is why it is important to accurately monitor exposure as closely
as possible. To protect ISS crews from the effects of radiation, space agencies are
guided by the ISS Medical Operations Requirement Document (MORD). The
MORD identifies radiation exposure monitoring requirements as follows:
i. Radiation doses absorbed by human tissue
ii. Charged particles and neutron radiation inside the ISS
iii. Charged particles outside the ISS during spacewalks
To quantify the station’s internal and external radiation, NASA2 has installed vari-
ous active and passive radiation instruments that measure and document each astro-
nauts’ radiation exposure. In addition to the passive and active radiation instruments,
each astronaut is provided with a dosimeter that serves as the dosimeter of record
[26, 27]. The data from each astronauts’ dosimeter, when combined with data from
internal and external dosimeters, provides an accurate characterization of the radia-
tion environment. This data can then be applied to exposure limits. Terrestrial expo-
sure limits are much too restrictive if applied to the space environment. So space
agencies have adopted recommendations made by the National Council on Radiation
Protection (NCRP) that sets a career limit at a three percent REID from cancer.
But how does this number compare with the incidence of cancer in the general
population? Here on Earth, the risk of developing and dying from cancer is about
20 percent, which means about 20 people out of 100 will die from cancer. But if you
happen to be an astronaut, then that risk increases by three percent, which means 23
astronauts out of every 100 astronauts may die [26]. Of course, this metric is skewed
because astronauts are perhaps the healthiest individuals on and off the planet.
Passive Dosimetry
One way of measuring and tracking radiation is to use passive dosimeters. These
are placed at fixed locations inside the pressurized modules. The information from
these dosimeters provide the ground with information about those locations where
2 Career radiation exposures of astronauts are tracked by a NASA radiation specialist who logs
radiation exposures for each astronaut in a document known as the Astronaut Annual Radiation
Exposure Report.
the exposure rate is high. This information can then be used to re-evaluate the
amount of time each astronaut spends in each module.
Passive radiation dosimeters (PRDs) are also known as radiation area monitors
(RAMs). Each RAM comprises a set of thermoluminescent detectors (TLDs) sur-
rounded by Lexan. The material reacts to radiation by means of excitation of mate-
rials that comprise the TLDs. TLDs comprise lithium fluoride or calcium fluoride
embedded in a solid crystal structure. When the TLD is exposed to radiation, the
radiation interacts with the crystal. Some atoms in the crystal absorb the energy and
become ionized. This generates free electrons and heats the crystal, which causes the
material to vibrate, which in turn releases electrons. When electrons return to their
original pre-ionized state, they release stored energy that appears as light. This light
is measured using special photomultiplier tubes, and the amount of light – the “glow
curve” – released is proportional to the amount of radiation that struck the crystal
[26]. Crew passive dosimeters (CPDs) are provided to each astronaut. Apart from
sporting a different label, the CPDs are exactly the same as the RAMs. They are
7 worn by the astronauts throughout the mission, including spacewalks.
Active radiation monitors provide data to the ground that is used together with
data provided by the CPDs to generate high-dose rate and low-dose rate areas
inside the station [26]. These measurements also help the ground to reduce uncer-
tainty when calculating risk assessments for the crew, which is done by evaluating
the following metrics:
1. Linear energy transfer spectra inside the ISS
2. Mass distribution
3. Space weather conditions
4. Stage of the solar cycle
5. CPD data
6. RAM data
The tissue equivalent proportional counter (TEPC) uses gas to measure the dose of
radiation. The function of the TEPC is to develop an exposure history of the crew
during their stay on the ISS. It collects data by making spectral measurements of
the energy loss of radiation as the radiation passes through a detector volume.
Inside the TEPC is an omnidirectional detector encased in tissue equivalent plastic,
similar to that used in the Matroshka Human Phantom [28, 29], discussed later in
this chapter. Also inside the TEPC is propane gas that, combined with the plastic,
provides an energy deposition effect similar to human tissue. This energy deposi-
tion response is achieved thanks to propane gas, which is kept at very low pressure.
This means that radiation passing through the detector gas passes through with
similar linear energy loss as a human cell. This information is stored inside a
512-channel spectrometer that is presented to the crew via an electronic display
that displays total dose, total dose equivalent, and incremental dose. The TEPC
also downlinks information to the ground for analysis. The TEPC became opera-
tional in 2000 and as of 2020 is still functioning (there is one active and one spare
unit on board the ISS).
219 7
The charged particle directional spectrometer (CPDS) monitors the internal
radiation environment of the ISS using a Cherenkov detector. The Cherenkov
detector works by measuring Cherenkov light. The principle by which the detector
works is as follows. A particle that passes through material (in this case a 12-element
silicon stack) at a speed faster than the speed at which light can pass through the
material emits light. An analogy is the sonic boom generated by an aircraft moving
through the air faster than the sound waves can move through the air. In the case
of the Cherenkov detector, the amount of radiation can be calculated if the angle
and direction of light are known.
Intravehicular TEPC
The intravehicular TEPC (IV-TEPC) device measures radiation in near real time
[26]. If the level of radiation exceeds predetermined thresholds, the device signals a
caution and warning (C&W) alarm. In such an event, the crew would probably
relocate to a higher shielded module. The unit itself is portable and comprises sev-
eral tissue equivalent radiation detectors constructed of material and gas that react
to radiation in a similar way that human tissue does. The IV-TEPC provides the
following capabilities [26]:
1. Signal conditioning
2. Data manipulation
3. Storage
4. Real-time telemetry
5. Extended data download
The IV-TEPC was declared operational on board the ISS in March 2001. It failed
in 2006 and has not been replaced.
European Crew Personal Active Dosimeter

The European Crew Personal Active Dosimeter (Escaped) is a device that assesses
radiation exposure of European astronauts. The device comprises three main ele-
ments:
1. Mobile Unit
55Two silicon detector modules
55Absorbed dose detector
2. Personal Storage Device
55TEPC
55Internal mobile unit
55Storage and charging capability for mobile unit
55Local data analysis
55Display of radiation data
3. Ground Station Analysis Software
55Calculates the dose equivalent based on spectroscopic data
The mobile units (MUs) are battery driven and have a power and data interface
with Columbus, where astronauts can access radiation data and where European
Crew Active Dosimetry Activity is monitored in conjunction with the ground.
PADLES
The Passive Dosimeter for Lifescience Experiments in Space (PADLES) is used to
monitor radiation inside the Japanese Experiment Module (Kibo). Bio PADLES is
used to measure the biological effects of radiation, while Area PADLES is used to
assess the personal exposure of each astronaut, and Free-Space PADLES measures
the radiation environment outside Kibo. The key radiation-sensitive material inside
the detectors is CR-39 plastic, and the radiation measured by the dosimeters is
published in JAXA’s PADLES database.3 Operationally, Free-Space PADLES is
launched and returned via pressurized cargo on board the Cygnus or Dragon,
packed inside a Crew Transfer Bag. On station, Free-Space PADLES is installed on
the Multi-Purpose Experiment Platform inside the JEM. It is then moved outside
7 the JEM via the JEM airlock and is grabbed by the JEM RMS robot arm which
positions Free-Space PADLES on the exterior of the module.
Detectors
The ISS flies at an altitude of around 400 kilometers. At this altitude, crews are
provided with a safe space platform that is protected against most of the deleteri-
ous effects of ionizing radiation. Over the years of ISS operation, the best active
dosimeters have proven to be those that provide linear energy transfer (LET) data
and tissue equivalent proportional data (such as the TEPCs) [30]. Supporting the
data provided by the dosimeters is a suite of detectors. Together, these dosimeters
and detectors are used to provide a very accurate set of baseline data that allow
scientists to benchmark risk assessments for long-duration flights, as long as those
long-duration flights occur in LEO. Beyond LEO? Well, that’s another story
(. Table 7.7).

Matroshka
Matroshka is an experiment sponsored by Roscosmos, ESA, and JAXA. It com-
prises a human phantom that is used to measure radiation astronauts are exposed
to inside and outside the ISS [28, 36]. The phantom is designed using human tissue
equivalent material and is filled with water and instrumented with a series of pas-
sive radiation detectors (. Fig. 7.13).
Between 2004 and 2009, Matroshka was exposed to radiation on three occa-
sions – two inside the ROS and one outside the ISS. After crunching the numbers,
scientists at the German Space Agency and the Technical University in Vienna
revealed that individual dosimeters worn by astronauts inside ISS had overesti-
mated radiation exposure by 15% compared with the actual dose measured inside
Matroshka. The overestimation in space was more than 200%.
3 7 http://idb.exst.jaxa.jp/db_data/padles/NI005.html.
221 7
.. Table 7.7 A Selection of the detectors used on board the ISS
Liulin. The Liulin system utilizes silicon detectors to measure deposited radiation energy [31, 32].
Basically, the number of charged particles that hit the device converts to a dose rate. The first
version (Liulin-E094) was first used on board the ISS in April 2001 and was followed by a series of
updated systems that were flown inside the ISS (Liulin ISS, between September 2005 and June
2014, and Liulin-5, which was deployed between May 2007 to present) and outside the ISS (R3DE,
from February 2008 to September 2009 and R3DR between March 2009 and August 2010)
Alteino. This detector is also referred to as SilEye3. It made its first appearance on the Mir
space station. The shoebox-sized system comprises a stack of eight silicon striped sensors
measuring 80 mm by 80 mm by 0.38 mm and two plastic scintillators [33, 34]. The orientation
of the stack is configured to provide a set of three coordinates through which particles strike.
This configuration allows for tracking the direction of particles
ALTEA. This is a system of six silicon telescopes similar to Alteino except for the scintillators.
These detectors have been positioned in the US Lab in three axes and also in Columbus [34,
35]. The system downlinks data via real-time telemetry
DosTel. This detector system is also based on silicon detectors. They are deployed in Columbus [27]
TRITEL. This system comprises a set of three silicon telescopes configured in a
three-dimensional arrangement. The system has been deployed in Columbus (in the European
Physiology Module rack TRITEL-SURE) since 2012
.. Fig. 7.13 Matroshka. The phantom is essentially a torso comprising 33 slices each of
2.5-centimeter thickness. Each slice houses thermoluminescent lithium fluoride detectors (about 4.5
millimeters in diameter) placed in plastic tubes. Thanks to the positioning of the TLDs inside the
phantom, it is possible for scientists to accurately determine the spatial distribution of radiation and
thereby calculate the effective dose. The key to the way radiation is measured is found inside the
TLDs. Inside each detector is a lattice, which traps free electrons created by radiation. The greater the
radiation dose, the greater the number of trapped electrons [36]. When exposed to heat, the trapped
electrons are released, emitting light, and it is this light that provides the index for radiation exposure:
the greater the light, the higher the proportional radiation dose. Credit: ESA
»» We must remember that measurements within the MATROSHKA experiment were

performed at low Earth orbit where the Earth’s magnetosphere significantly reduces
the number of charged particles from cosmic radiation. In interplanetary space
there is no such shielding.
Dr. Bilski, a MATROSKA scientist suggesting that manned Mars missions may
still be a risky proposition despite the lower than expected radiation levels measured
on ISS
Shielding
» » The space radiation environment will be a critical consideration for everything

in the astronauts’ daily lives, both on the journeys between Earth and Mars
and on the surface. You’re constantly being bombarded by some amount of
radiation.
7 Ruthan Lewis, architect and engineer at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center
7 August 1972. An enormous flare exploded from the Sun spewing out a burst of
energetic particles. A moonwalker caught in the storm would have been exposed to
400 rem. Not necessarily deadly but enough to require a mission abort and an early
return to Earth. Fortunately, there were no astronauts on the surface of the Moon
in August 1972. Apollo 16 had returned to Earth the previous month, and the crew
of Apollo 17 was preparing for a mission that was due to take place in December
that year. Of course, an astronaut isn’t going to be wandering around on the Moon
when a storm hits. They will be ensconced inside their base or spacecraft. If such
an event had occurred during an Apollo mission, the Apollo command module’s
hull4 would have reduced the 400 rem to about 35 to 40 rem. Still enough of a dose
to cause a headache and perhaps some nausea, but not sufficient to require a bone
marrow transplant.
»» There’s a lot of good science to be done on Mars, but a trip to interplanetary space
carries more radiation risk than working in low-Earth orbit.
Jonathan Pellish, space radiation engineer at Goddard
In science fiction movies, the most dangerous threat to the crew is usually some form
of alien life. And in most such movies, these threats are usually pretty big. But in the
real world of sending astronauts on deep space interplanetary missions (. Fig. 7.14),
the dangers are mostly invisible. Heavy elementary particles zipping along through
space and tearing through DNA are enough to give any astronaut serious concern.
These cosmic rays present irreducible risks and are as deadly as any threat Hollywood
can conjure up. So, how do we protect astronauts from this danger?
4 The Apollo Command Module’s hull provided 8 g/cm2 or radiation protection. The Space Shuttle
had 11 g/cm2, and the ISS has up to 15 g/cm2 at its most shielded areas. In contrast, a spacesuit
has 0.25 g/cm2.
Shielding
223 7
.. Fig. 7.14 One of the biggest dangers to future manned interplanetary missions will be radiation
exposure. Credit: NASA
Here on Earth, the sheer bulk of the atmosphere does a great job shielding us
from the worst shrapnel-like cosmic rays can inflict. Many miles above us, incom-
ing protons are absorbed by the nuclei of air atoms. Particles and subparticles
disperse in a series of annihilating cycles until all that is left are some peons and
mesons, some of which pass through our body. But at that stage, there is so little
energy left in them – thanks to the weight of the atmosphere – that all they can do
is produce a few ions.
Above the atmosphere and beyond LEO, the situation is very different. In deep
space, those same cosmic rays have nothing to disperse them. Except spacecraft.
And the astronauts inside them. And once those heavy nuclei zip through the skin
of the spacecraft and through the human body, the trail of damage is devastating.
Broken bonds. Genetic material ripped apart. Tissues permanently damaged. The
body has an extraordinary capacity for self-repair, so a week or month of this is
survivable. But two or more years? Unlikely. We know this from studying the grave
biological consequences of the unfortunate humans who have been exposed to
intense bursts of radiation.
The Mars evangelists promote the fact that since some astronauts have spent 6
months in space, traveling to Mars should be a breeze. But astronauts on board the
ISS are still shielded by the Earth’s magnetic field.
What are the solutions? Shielding perhaps? One shield suggested by those in the
business of protecting astronauts during exploration class missions (ECMs) is a
sphere of water. The only drawback is that such a system would weigh 400 tons at
minimum! How about a superconducting magnet? Such a system would use a mag-
netic field to repel cosmic rays, but the problem is that the magnetic field itself
would present certain health risks.
So what other shielding solutions are out there? Before we discuss these, it’s
important to have a reference for what exactly engineers are up against. We’ll begin
with the legal limit for those working in nuclear power plants. That number hap-
pens to be 2 mSv per year. A Mars astronaut by comparison would be exposed to
1000 mSv per year, and the consequences of that exposure would be that one in ten
male interplanetary astronauts would die from cancer. Many more would suffer
from radiation-induced cataracts and brain damage [22]. And that’s a best case
scenario, because it isn’t just cosmic rays that inflict damage. Every once in a while,
the Sun unleashes huge bursts of heavy nuclei that travel at close to light speed.
These bursts, which can deliver more than 100 mSv per hour are, quite simply, a
death sentence for any unshielded astronaut in deep space.
7 Water as a Radiation Shield
So what about those options mentioned earlier? Before considering the use of
water (astronauts need this, so it makes sense to use it) as a shielding material, we
need to perform some basic calculations. First, we need to know how much shield-
ing material it takes to protect an astronaut. If we wanted to provide an
interplanetary astronaut with the same shielding as on Earth, it would take one
kilogram of water per square centimeter. But, since astronauts are willing to accept
risk, let’s give them less – and more affordable – protection and have them make do
with just 500 grams of water per square centimeter. That amount of shielding is
equivalent to you living at an altitude of 5500 meters. Now for the sake of simplic-
ity, let’s make our spacecraft a sphere. To protect our crew with water, the walls of
this spherical vehicle would need to be five meters thick and would weigh about 500
tons. Back in the old days, the Space Shuttle could ferry around 30 tons into LEO.
The Space Launch System? 130 tons in its most powerful lift configuration. So, 500
tons is too heavy. But what if the engineers reduced the amount of water and
increased the hydrogen content of the spacecraft walls? They could do this by using
polyethylene and perhaps bring the weight down to 400 tons. That just isn’t finan-
cially feasible, so let’s consider the other option mentioned – magnetic shielding.
Magnetic Shielding
This is yet another exotic shielding option promoted by the Mars evangelists.
Problem solved! Well, no, the problem is not solved. That is because this method of
shielding hasn’t moved far beyond the PowerPoint phase of development, and
there are good reasons for this.
Let me explain. Earth is surrounded by a magnetic field that does a great job
deflecting incoming charged particles so it would seem reasonable to assume –
unless you happen to be a particle physicist – a spacecraft could carry a magnet to
do the same. The problem is those cosmic rays. These have tremendous kinetic
Shielding
225 7
energy, and trying to bring them to a standstill in the space of just a couple of
meters requires energy the likes of which might be achievable in the world of Star
Trek but in the real world is not. It would require a magnetic field of 20 tesla to stop
cosmic rays, and 20 tesla is about 600,000 times the strength of the Earth’s mag-
netic field. How would humans endure living in a magnetic field of 20 tesla and
what would the long-term effects be? Volunteers form a line here, please!
But, some insist, it might be possible to use a second magnet to cancel out the
field effect of the first magnet. Such a system, its proponents argue, could use
plasma to push away the magnetic field of the first. But the problem with plasma is
that is very unstable, and even if it could be controlled, the nuances of how plasma
behaves in a magnetic field would mean the field would be weakened, not strength-
ened.
Electrical Shielding
So, water is too expensive, and the magnetic option is too tricky and downright
dangerous. What about electrical fields? In this application, the spacecraft would
be charged electrically with two billion volts! Such a charge would, in theory, repel
cosmic ray protons. In theory, the problem is that space – even deep space – is not
empty. Even in deep space, there are ions and electrons flying around, and these
negatively charged electrons would be attracted by a spacecraft that is positively
charged. Let’s not forget that this spacecraft would have an electric field that would
extend tens of thousands of kilometers away from the vehicle. Such a huge electric
field would draw in electrons from a huge volume of space, and when those elec-
trons hit the walls of the spacecraft, they would act just like the cosmic rays the
shield was designed to repel! The electrons would generate gamma rays as soon as
they hit the vehicle, and the intensity of this barrage would be so great that it would
put the original headache in the shade. And what about those two billion volts?
Does anyone have any idea of what sort of system could generate such a current?
Two billion volts is 2000 megawatts, which is about the same amount of power
generated by your average power plant. How do you fit such a system on an inter-
planetary spacecraft? The answers to these questions are few and far between.
Linear Energy Transfer and Relative Biological Effectiveness
One process that is key to understanding which materials make the best shields is
the process of how radiation interacts with the spacecraft and the occupants inside.
That is because radiation does not simply pass through the walls of a spacecraft,
just like it does not simply pass through the bodies of the astronauts. Radiation
interacts. And as it interacts, the energy of all that ionizing radiation is disrupted
and the size of the particles reduced [37, 38, 39]. The problem is that the disruption
causes the heavy charged particles – primary radiation – to disintegrate into smaller
particles, secondary radiation, and it is these smaller particles that cause biological
damage in the crew.
Now you might think the solution would be to conduct research that mimics
this interactive process, but that is not what research does. Instead, almost all
research studies that simulate the effect of galactic cosmic rays (GCRs) do so by
exposing animals to heavy-ion accelerators to simply replicate the dose a human
crew might be exposed to during an interplanetary mission. This method does not
provide a true model of what happens in deep space, because it is very difficult to
replicate the myriad energies of disrupted GCRs and even more difficult to mea-
sure the extent to which these energies inhibit cell regrowth and tissue repair mech-
anisms. Furthermore, different animals respond differently to radiation. Some are
more susceptible and some less sensitive to radiation damage. And finally, the cur-
rent technology of heavy-ion accelerators is limiting in terms of accurately repro-
ducing the ions in the GCR spectrum.
So what other metrics can be applied to simulate the effects of GCRs? One way
researchers simulate the effects of radiation is to apply the metric of linear energy
transfer or LET. LET is used to measure the amount of tissue damage caused by
7 radiation, and it is a metric used to determine radiation protection and risk assess-
ment. This metric is used in conjunction with the measure of relative biological effec-
tiveness (RBE), which is a measure applied to the effect of different types of
radiation. In essence, the higher the RBE for a specific type of radiation, the more
damaging that radiation is per unit of energy when it is absorbed by human tissues.
Several studies utilizing LET and RBE have been conducted over the years by mea-
suring the LET spectrums using TEPCs, and plastic nuclear track detectors placed
at different locations on board the ISS. Similar studies were conducted during
NASA’s Exploration Flight Test (EFT-1), which tested the Orion Multi-Purpose
Crew Vehicle (MPCV) during orbital flight. While the 4-hour EFT-1 flight was much
Spallation
When high-charged particles penetrate why hydrogen is such an effective
shielding or astronauts, they do so in a shielding material. Scientists can cal-
straight path to begin with. But shortly culate the stopping power of a mate-
after penetrating matter, those heavy rial by determining the energy lost per
ions begin to disperse as they collide unit path length that the particles
with atoms in the shielding and/or the travel. This number is the LET, which
astronauts. As the path of the heavy is a metric that quantifies how much
ions is disrupted, energy is dissipated, energy is lost as the heavy ions transit
but at the same time, smaller nuclei are material. But stopping power isn’t
generated in a process called spall- everything. A good shielding material
ation. The degree to which energy is should not only stop as many of the
dissipated is largely determined by the high-energy particles as possible, but
properties of the material through also limit the amount of fragmenta-
which the heavy particle are traveling. tion as much as possible, in addition to
Generally, energy loss increases with being able to stop as many of the low-
decreasing atomic number, which is energy particles as possible. Polymers
Shielding
227 7
tend to be good candidate shield mate- energy loss is maximized. This is very
rials because they have a high hydro- difficult to do because the data on flu-
gen content and also stop more ence of particles in deep space is lim-
low-energy particles than most other ited (one application that is used to
materials. But the choice of the mate- calculate this is the Monte Carlo par-
rial is just one consideration. The next ticle transport simulation software
decision is deciding how thick the PHITS). Even with advanced simula-
material should be. This is important tion software such as PHITS, reliable
because the LET of the heaviest nuclei and accurate predictions of how well a
has such penetrating energy that they shield will function are very difficult.
can travel deep through a material This is because of the lack of data
before there is any measurable energy from deep space and the difficulty in
loss. It is therefore important that the predicting how neutron propagation
shielding material is designed in such a (which is highly sporadic) occurs in
way that spallation is limited and biological tissue.
shorter than 6-month ISS flights, the high apogee (5800 kilometers) of the second
orbit included a transit through the radiation-dense Van Allen belts and also a brief
excursion into the interplanetary environment. Radiation detectors were activated
shortly after liftoff and collected radiation data for the duration of the flight.
Polyethylene as a Shielding Material
One candidate for radiation shielding is polyethylene, a plastic that is also found
in water bottles. By virtue of its high hydrogen content [40] and the fact the
material is very cheap, this material also offers other advantages when it comes
to protecting astronauts from radiation. For example, plastic-like materials such
as polyethylene cause much less secondary radiation than traditional materials
such as aluminum. Since polyethylene isn’t the most versatile material when it
comes to building spacecraft, the material has been adapted to a stronger and
lighter material: RXF1. Created by Raj Kaul, RXF1 is derived from polyethyl-
ene, but since it is a fabric, it can be shaped into whatever shape is needed. While
polyethylene has been shown to be effective at dispersing heavy ions, stopping
protons, and slowing down neutrons (which form as secondary radiation), it is
not a structural material, although RXF1 may have some potential in that appli-
cation. But there is another hydrogen-based material that might do both jobs.
Hydrogenated boron nitride nanotubes (. Fig. 7.15), also known as hydroge-

nated BNNTs [40, 41], comprise nanotubes constructed of carbon, boron, nitro-
gen, and hydrogen. In addition to absorbing secondary neutrons and stopping
.. Fig. 7.15 BNNTs may prove

to be an effective shield against
radiation. Credit: NASA
7 protons, the hydrogenated BNNT material is so flexible that spacesuits could be

made of it.
»» This product will enable human deep space exploration. Our breakthrough has
come in creating the architecture of the multi-layered shield to accurately cover the
most important organs.
Oren Milstein, CEO, StemRad
AstroRad Radiation Shield
Another passive means of protecting astronauts is a vest being developed by

Israeli researchers. Dubbed the AstroRad Radiation Shield, the vest is being pro-
duced by StemRad, a company based in Tel Aviv. The vest (. Fig. 7.16), which

will be customized for each crewmember, is designed to protect vital organs. To

test the concept, the vest will be “worn” by a phantom torso that will measure
radiation absorption. Another phantom torso will be flown that will be unpro-
tected.
Pharmacological Countermeasures and Radioprotectors
Space agencies conduct radiation research because astronauts are exposed to

chronic doses of radiation. But during long-duration missions beyond LEO,
there is a real danger that crews may be exposed to acute doses that may lead to
acute radiation syndrome (ARS). To be prepared for such missions, space agen-
cies must be prepared to anticipate radiation exposures and be able to deal with
the consequences. One way to do this is to implement a radiation medical coun-
Shielding
229 7
.. Fig. 7.16 Astrorad: Perhaps
one of the more elegant ways to
shield astronauts against radia-
tion. Credit: Stemrad/NASA
termeasures program that would cover products to be used following a radio-

logical emergency.
Radioprotectors are compounds that can be considered as a preemptive medical
countermeasure, since they protect against radiation injury and the effects of ion-
izing radiation only when administered before any radiation exposure. This is
different than a mitigator, which protects against radiation injury after exposure to
radiation. Research that studies radioprotectors and mitigators usually investigate
the effects of acute total body irradiation (TBI) in rats. While TBI affects several
organ systems, death in the first 30 days, whether in rats or humans, is usually the
result of two mechanisms:
1. Gastrointestinal Syndrome
Death within 10 to 12 days after exposure of 8 to 20 Gray, usually as a result
of fluid and electrolyte imbalance and sepsis. Note a Gray (Gy) is a physical
quantity. 1 Gy is the deposit of radiation energy per kg of matter or tissue. A
Sievert on the other hand represents a biological effect, i.e., the equivalent bio-
logical effect of the deposit of radiation energy in a kilogram of human tissue.
In someone who is suffering from 1. Gastrointestinal Syndrome, the fluid and
electrolyte imbalance is caused by a depletion of intestinal stem cells, which are
killed by the radiation in a prs known as apoptosis.
2. Hematopoietic Syndrome
Death within 30 days after exposure to 3 to 8 Gray, usually as a result of
neutropenia and thrombocytopenia. In someone suffering from this syndrome,
7 neutropenia and thrombocytopenia is caused by the depletion of radiosensitive
hematopoietic progenitor cells for white blood cells.
To improve survival rates in astronauts who may be exposed to very high levels of
radiation, it is necessary to develop a radioprotector and mitigator that can protect
against these syndromes. Ideally, such a compound should have a convenient mode
of delivery and have low toxicity. Unfortunately there are no radioprotectors or
mitigators that have been approved for use in humans for preventing or treating the
effects of acute radiation exposure. One agent used to reduce the toxicity of radia-
tion therapy is Amifostine (EthyolR), previously known as WR-2721 [42, 43, 44].
Developed by the US Army Anti-Radiation Drug Development Program,
Amifostine works thanks to a thiol compound that scavenges free radicals thereby
reducing the levels of oxidative radicals. While it has been shown in studies in rats
that Amifostine has some radioprotective effect, there are a number of limitations
that include:
1. Narrow time window of administration. To have a radioprotective effect,
Amifostine must be administered within 15–30 minutes before radiation expo-
sure.
2. It has only been tested intravenously, although other routes may be possible.
3. Side effects. These include vomiting, nausea, and hypotension [42, 43, 44]. Not
ideal for a crew of astronauts, although this would be better than suffering the
effects of ARS.
Superoxide dismutase (SOD) has been subject to investigation for the transgene’s
ability to protect tissues against injury following radiation exposure. In mouse
models, administration of this transgene did confer some protection against ulcer-
ation, and in mice that were fed a diet rich in antioxidants and administered (SOD),
lifespans were increased. Genistein is a soy isoflavone that has been used as an
Shielding
231 7
anticancer agent [45, 46]. It works by protecting bone marrow progenitor cells and
reducing inflammation in tissues [45, 46].
Captopril meanwhile was originally developed to treat hypertension but has
since been investigated as a potential radiation countermeasure for the pulmonary
and hematopoietic systems [47]. How Captopril works is not completely under-
stood, but research has shown that it blocks radiation-induced hematopoietic syn-
drome and reduces inflammation.
DBIBB was first highlighted following a study by Gábor Tigyi published in
Chemistry and Biology in 2015. In Tigyi’s study, DBIBB was shown to increase
survival in mice exposed to radiation even after treatment had been administered 3
days after exposure. In previous research, Dr. Tigyi and his colleagues had discov-
ered that a molecule (lysophosphatidic acid or LPA) generated during blood clot-
ting, activates a receptor (called LPA2) that protects against cell death caused by
radiation. In this research, scientists had also identified a compound similar to
LPA that protected mice against radiation exposure. The problem with this com-
pound was that it did not target the LPA2 receptor, and it was not potent enough
to be used as a pharmacological countermeasure. So the researchers refined their
study and engineered a more potent version of the LPA2 receptor and dubbed it
DBIBB. They then tested this compound in a mouse study and found that DBIBB
increased the survival of radiation-exposed cells and protected DNA. In the study,
the group of mice that were not treated with DBIBB had a 20% survival rate,
whereas the mice treated with DBIBB had a 93 percent survival rate. The next step
was to test DBIBB on human hematopoietic progenitor cells. These cells were sub-
ject to radiation before being treated with DBIBB. In this study, DBIBB signifi-
cantly increased the survival of the cells. While the study was one of a kind, the
results suggested that DBIBB could be the first radiomitigator.
Dietary Antioxidant Supplementation

Space radiation induces oxidative stress in cells, so it isn’t surprising that scientists
have suggested astronauts might combat the effects of this stress by taking anti-
oxidants. Oxidative stress occurs when there is a greater amount of prooxidants
(radiation is a prooxidant) than antioxidants, and it is hypothesized that the use of
antioxidants might counteract this imbalance [48]. Scientists supporting this
hypothesis argue that given the level of oxidative stress astronauts will be exposed
to during exploration class missions, their intake of antioxidant vitamins will need
to be significantly higher than recommended dietary allowances (RDAs).
One study that tested the “antioxidant as a radiation countermeasure”
hypothesis, investigated an antioxidant supplement that contained a concoc-
tion of several antioxidant agents (ascorbic acid, co-enzyme Q10, α-lipoic acid,
L-Selenomethionine, N-acetyl cysteine, and vitamin E succinate) that were
expected to reduce radiation-induced oxidative stress. The supplement was admin-
istered to mice at a weight basis equivalent to humans. One group of mice was
then irradiated at the NASA Space Radiation Laboratory (NSRL), while another
control group remained radiation free. Following their test, both groups of mice
were examined daily for 2 years for signs of toxicity such as ataxia, lack of groom-
ing, weakness, anorexia, convulsions, twitching, tremors, bleeding, discharges,

swelling, or labored respiration. Then, at the end of the 2-year period, the experi-
mental and control groups were examined to measure any differences between the
two groups. Since there were no statistically significant differences between the
different diet groups, scientists were forced to conclude that antioxidant supple-
mentation did not prevent the debilitating effects of radiation exposure. But there
was some positive news, because a more detailed analysis of the results revealed
that antioxidant supplementation did prevent the more aggressive manifestations
of radiation exposure such as malignant lymphomas and rare tumors.
Nicotinamide Mononucleotide
Nicotinamide mononucleotide (NMN) is a much-hyped antiaging drug that has
been developed by scientists in Australia and the United States. NMN works by
promoting DNA repair and could therefore help protect astronauts from radia-
tion. NMD works by increasing levels of the oxidized form of nicotinamide ade-
7 nine dinucleotide (NAD+), a chemical present in cells. NAD+ works by regulating
protein interactions that help repair DNA, which is why NAD+ supplements have
been very popular, although there has been little evidence that supports they have
any antiaging effect. NMN on the other hand works so well that the scientists who
performed the research are thinking of taking the drug themselves! In these stud-
ies, mice that were fed NMN supplements lived 20 percent longer than mice who
were not fed the supplement. Of course, human trials have to be conducted, and
assuming those trials are successful, the drug will need to be approved by the US
Food and Drug Administration.
How does NMN work? As we age, our body’s ability to repair itself becomes
less and less efficient because the amount of NAD+ present in the cells declines
and declines even more in those exposed to radiation. The theory is if you can
increase the amount of NAD+ in the cells, you can enhance DNA repair. And the
way you increase the amount of NAD+ in the cells is by adding a booster – NMN –
that enhances the ability of cells to repair DNA. In some studies that have tested
this theory, the NMN not only increased the cells’ ability to repair DNA but actu-
ally reversed existing genetic damage. And since it is predicted that about five per-
cent of all the cells in an astronaut’s body will die during a roundtrip to Mars,
NMN has caught the attention of scientists searching for ways to protect crew-
members during these missions.
Granulocyte Colony-Stimulating Factor

As discussed in the previous chapter, one of the syndromes of ARS is hematopoietic
syndrome. This syndrome is characterized by a drop in the number of blood cells. This
means there is a reduction in the number of neutrophils, which is important as these
cells represent the first line of immune defense. As the numbers of neutrophils fall, the
risk of infection increases. Neutrophils are produced in the bone marrow from hema-
topoietic stem cells (HSCs), which give rise to multipotent progenitors (MPPs). The
MPPs divide into mature blood cells via processes involving several regulators that are
Psychological Countermeasures
233 7
needed for maintaining homeostasis in the cells. One of the key factors in the division,
or differentiation, is granulocyte colony-stimulating factor (G-CSF).
Under normal conditions, most mature neutrophils stay in the bone marrow,
and only two percent are released into the bloodstream as mature neutrophils.
Once in the bloodstream, the differentiated neutrophils search for signs of infec-
tion, and if infection is detected, neutrophil chemoattractants are secreted, which
triggers the production of G-CSF (during infection, circulating neutrophils may
increase by ten times the normal level).
As discussed earlier, when a person is exposed to high levels of ionizing radia-
tion, neutrophil levels fall, resulting in neutropenia. But hypothetically, if it was
possible to stimulate neutrophil levels by adding G-CSF, then perhaps neutropenia
could be avoided and infection rates reduced. Such studies have been performed
using pegfilgrastim (Neulasta®) which is a recombinant form of G-CSF and fil-
grastim (Neupogen®). In one study, mice were irradiated to 2 Gy, and their neutro-
phil counts monitored for 30 days after exposure. Not surprisingly, their neutrophil
counts decreased significantly compared with the control group which had not
been irradiated. But when a second group of irradiated mice was administered fil-
grastim, the neutrophil counts returned to normal levels within 2 days. In another
part of the study, pegfilgrastim was administered to a control group of unirradi-
ated mice, a procedure that boosted neutrophil counts by 15 times. Whether these
effects would be observed in astronauts exposed to organ doses of 2 Gy is unknown,
but if filgrastim and pegfilgrastim can show similar effects in humans, the com-
pounds may represent a mild countermeasure to radiation exposure.
Despite myriad research studies, there are still no radioprotectors or mitigators
available for long-duration crews. There are some weak mitigators such as vitamin
E derivatives, and there are compounds being tested on rodents that may be con-
sidered as weak radioprotectors, but none of these have been tested in human stud-
ies. So what are the ideal characteristics of the ideal radioprotector/mitigator?
1. A weak radioprotector or mitigator is of little use for Mars-bound crews
because of the ever-present danger of solar particle events and the constant
exposure to GCR. A crew exposed to a high dose of radiation will need a radio-
protector/mitigator capable of blocking radiation-induced mutagenesis and
carcinogenesis.
2. These agents will need to be effective for the first 24 hours (or longer)
following exposure.
3. They should have a convenient mode of administration – intramuscular or
subcutaneous.
A happy astronaut is a productive astronaut, but maintaining well-being as missions

become longer and longer requires enhanced psychological support. This require-
ment was recognized in the Shuttle era when NASA began providing these services
in an effort to minimize stress and promote well-being and performance. This sup-
port includes everything from monitoring cognitive function and psychological
7
.. Fig. 7.17 The $6,000,000 – that’s right, six million dollars! – Crew Interactive Mobile companion,
or CIMON, is a basketball-sized AI robot. It’s not exactly HAL. Not by a long shot; in 2018, the
original CIMON (it has since been upgraded to CIMON-2) gained notoriety when it refused to play
ESA astronaut Alexander Gerst’s favorite song. If that wasn’t enough, the obstreperous 5 kilogram
“bot” jumped rank and accused the astronaut of being mean! (If you don’t believe me you can check
out the interaction at this link: 7 https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=XQQbkDqU1V0). This was a

bit much really, considering CIMON’s purpose was to boost morale! Credit: NASA
health to ensuring crewmembers have time set aside for family and friends. For exam-
ple, ISS astronauts can avail themselves of regular private psychological conferences
(PPCs) every fortnight. The PPC provides an opportunity for the crewmember to
raise any concerns over issues such as sleep, fatigue, mood, and family relationships.
NASA astronauts also have their cognitive function assessed via a monthly
WinSCAT (Spaceflight Cognitive Assessment Tool for Windows). The WinSCAT,
which is also administered post-mission, can best be described as a neurobehav-
ioral battery designed to determine changes in cognition that may be caused by
exposure to toxins such as volatile organic compounds (VOCs). In addition to the
PPC and the WinSCAT, astronauts are pampered by having access to private video
conferences, a family webpage, personalized care packages ferried up on routine
cargo flights, and even access to CIMON (. Fig. 7.17). Another aspect of psycho-

logical support is helping astronauts deal with fatigue caused by the spaceflight-
induced misalignment of circadian rhythms. To help manage this fatigue, astronauts
may be administered hypnotics and alertness medication.
Mars500
To date, psychological support measures practiced in LEO have been mostly success-
ful (CIMON excepted!), but when astronauts venture beyond Earth orbit, many
current countermeasures will either be unavailable or severely limited in scope. What
235 7
will behavioral scientists do? Maybe they will conduct more analogs such as the
Mars 500 boondoggle? The State Scientific Center of the Russian Federation con-
ducted the Mars 500 project in Moscow, which comprised three isolation/confinement
studies with six crewmembers each: a 14-day pilot study (completed in November
2007), a 105-day pilot study (completed in July 2009), and a 520-day study simulat-
ing a mission to Mars (completed in November 2011). The multinational crew of six
were similar in age (32 years) and education (e.g., engineers, physicians, military
backgrounds) to astronauts/cosmonauts living on the ISS. The confinement (3 June
2010 to 4 November 2011) was conducted in a 550 m3 pressurized facility with vol-
ume and configuration comparable to a spacecraft. Facility modules were equipped
with life support systems and an artificial atmospheric environment at normal baro-
metric pressure, and activities simulated the work routine on board the ISS. Work
included routine and simulated emergency events and changes in communication
modes and time delays between mission days 54 and 470 that would occur in transit
to and from Mars. In many ways, Mars 520 featured many ICE features.
The crew lived on a 5-day work cycle, with 2 days off, except for emergency
simulations. Dozens of experiments were performed in the disciplines of physiol-
ogy, biochemistry, immunology, and biology, microbiology, operations and technol-
ogy, and of course psychology. Social desirability bias was measured, as was sleep
quality together with assessment of mood states to determine depression, tension,
anger, and confusion among other things. The Mars500 crew completed depression
inventories to see how suicidal or irritable they were and also conflict questionnaires
to determine when crewmembers argued the most. Once the mission was over, sci-
entists had reams of data to pore over and publish in peer-reviewed journals.
But did they actually learn anything? Well, the scientists discovered that crew-
members exhibited depressive symptoms and some psychological distress, but
nothing that hasn’t been observed hundreds of times before in polar explorers.
There were also several examples of inter-crew differences in coping with the pro-
longed isolation and confinement of the 17-month mission, but again, this is noth-
ing new. Sleep-wake data revealed insomnia in some crewmembers and consequent
escalating errors in psychomotor vigilance performance. Researchers observed this
could be detrimental during critical periods of the mission such as docking maneu-
vers, extravehicular activities, or responding to emergencies. Perhaps, but polar
explorers were subject to extended periods of insomnia compounded by the most
horrendous conditions imaginable and were still able to deal with critical tasks.
The researchers attempted to justify their research by stating the importance of
identifying behavioral and psychological markers that predispose long-duration
crewmembers to behavioral and psychosocial reactions to the confinement required
for exploration missions. They went on to say that such predictors and biomarkers
are needed to select and train crews and that Mars missions will require the “right
stuff ” for prolonged confinement and isolation. Well, they’re right about that, but
a trip to the local library might have told the researchers everything they needed to
know about a human’s capacity to survive in isolation and confinement, without
the need to lock a crew up in a tin can for 17 months. Ultimately, the Mars500
analog was extremely limited, not only by its absence of zero gravity, but because
of the very generous comfort blanket available to the crew, which could have left
the module at any time. En route to Mars, there will be no such comfort blanket.
So, based on the results of Mars500, were researchers able to answer the question
“Are humans able to endure the confinement of a trip to Mars?” No. But, based on
the experiences of Shackleton, Nansen, and Co., humans most certainly are.
Protecting the Immune System
The immune system interfaces with several systems in the body such as the ner-
vous system and the skeletal system, and it is also influenced by factors such as
stress, nutrition, and exercise. Not surprisingly, the space environment exerts a
significant influence on this system due to all the stressors present such as radia-
tion, confinement, isolation, microgravity, fluid shifts, and demanding work
schedules. All these stressors conspire to cause immune dysregulation, as evi-
denced by altered distribution of leukocytes and altered cytokine profiles in sev-
7 eral astronauts [49, 50, 51]. The use of terrestrial analogs such as Antarctic
winter-over and closed chamber habitats has helped determine the mechanism of
spaceflight effects, but no analog can replicate all inflight variables. It stands to
reason that any immune system changes observed during orbital spaceflight can
be expected to be observed in deep space missions, and, with missions to the
Moon and Mars being planned, the topic of immune system countermeasures
assumes ever greater importance.
Health Countermeasures
One general countermeasure that has been around for a while is the Flight Crew
Health Stabilization Program (HSP), the purpose of which is to:
»» ...mitigate the risk of occurrence of infectious disease among astronaut flight crews
in the immediate preflight period. Infectious diseases are contracted through direct
person-to-person contact, and through contact with infectious material in the envi-
ronment. The HSP establishes several controls to minimize crew exposure to infec-
tious agents. The HSP provides a quarantine environment for the crew that minimizes
contact with potentially infectious material. The HSP also limits the number of
individuals who come in close contact with the crew. The infection-carrying poten-
tial of these primary contacts (PCs) is minimized by educating them in ways to avoid
infections and avoiding contact with the crew if they are or may be sick. The trans-
mission of some infectious diseases can be greatly curtailed by vaccinations.
So, quarantine is one step toward protecting the immune system, but quarantine
can only do so much. Another step is designing spacecraft with specific controls
designed to reduce infections. These controls include HEPA air filters, water filters,
contamination resistance surfaces, biocides, and water pasteurization. In addition
to this, microbiological monitoring of cargo, air, payloads, and food is performed
prior to launch. Another countermeasure that is implemented is nutritional bal-
ance. We know from earlier and current missions that astronauts don’t eat suffi-
Protecting the Immune System
237 7
cient calories, resulting in hypocaloric nutrition. This is not good because
inadequate nutrient intake may compromise immune function by causing oxidative
stress which in turn causes an inflammatory response [52, 53, 54]. And, in deep
space missions where astronauts will be exposed to much more radiation, oxidative
stress will be increased and alter genetic repair mechanisms which may ultimately
cause immune system failure. What can astronauts do? They can increase their
intake of fruits and vegetables, because fruit and vegetables are high in carotenoids,
flavonoids, and vitamin C, which improve immune function, which in turn results
in an increased antioxidant capacity and a reduction in DNA strand breaks.
Supplements
Another approach is to provide astronauts with supplements. For example, vita-

min E is a strong antioxidant, while vitamin A provides an immune-boosting effect.
Vitamin C meanwhile is very effective in fighting off oxidative damage and also for
stimulating cellular functions of the immune system. Then there is vitamin D,
which is important for regulating calcium homeostasis. Another potential supple-
ment is polyphenols (e.g., quercetin, catechins), which have antioxidant and anti-
inflammatory benefits. In addition to extra vitamins, there is a case to be made for
giving astronauts extra omega-3 fatty acids. Omega-3 fatty acids are long-chain,
polyunsaturated fatty acids that have been shown to protect from oxidative damage
such as that incurred from radiation exposure.
Pharmacological Countermeasures
In addition to supplementation, there are various medications that astronauts may

find helpful. For example, beta-blockers may be useful because they have shown to
help reduce the risk of fractures. They can also help modulate memory. On Earth
at least. In space, it is a different story because there is insufficient knowledge on
drug stability and pharmacodynamics. So, while drug therapy may seem an obvious
solution to the many problems of space travel, because of the strong interactions of
the immune system with other organ systems, it is very difficult to safely administer
this category of countermeasures. And it is not just the problem of pharmacody-
namics that must be considered. Many terrestrial drugs have many side effects that
would compromise astronaut performance. Fosamax®, Fosavance®, Adrovance®,
and Aclasta® are all drugs that are used to preserve bone, but each has side effects.
Take Fosamax®, for example. Here are just some of the side effects of taking this
drug:
»» Fosamax can cause serious side effects. Fosamax can cause irritation, inflammation,
or ulcers of the esophagus which may sometimes bleed.
Since Fosamax can cause low calcium levels, if you have low blood calcium
before you start taking Fosamax, it may get worse during treatment and must be
treated before you take Fosamax.
Symptoms of low blood calcium include, spasms; twitches or cramps in your

muscles; and numbness or tingling in your fingers, toes, or around your mouth.
Bone, joint, or muscle pain: Fosamax can cause severe bone, joint, or muscle pain.
Fosamax can cause jawbone tissue to break down, exposing the bone and pos-
sibly leading to infections, gum lesions and loosened teeth.
Unusual thigh bone fractures: Fosamax can cause fractures in thigh bones.
Symptoms of a fracture may include new or unusual pain in your hip, groin, or thigh.
Allergic reactions and asthma: Fosamax can also cause allergic reactions, such
as hives or swelling of your face, lips, tongue, or throat.
Exercise
In addition to building bone and maintaining muscle tone, exercise exerts a power-
ful positive effect on the immune system. For example, regular exercise reduces
7 low-grade inflammation, improves immune responses to influenza, reduces symp-
toms of upper respiratory tract infections, and improves mucosal immunity. Having
said that, excessive exercise can actually impair immune system function, so any
exercise regime must be balanced. Moderation is the key.
Vaccination
Why vaccinate astronauts? Well, as we know now, astronauts’ immune systems are
dysregulated in spaceflight, and this leads to reactivation of certain viruses such as
varicella zoster virus. Furthermore, viral shedding as observed in spaceflight may
cause illness. So, to counter this problem, NASA vaccinates all its crews with
Zostavax.
Key Terms
55 Advanced Resistive Exercise Device (ARED)
55 As High As Reasonably Safe (AHARS)
55 As Low As Reasonably Achievable (ALARA)
55 Bone Mass Density (BMD)
55 Central Nervous System (CNS)
55 Combined Operational Load-bearing External Resistance Device (COLBERT)
55 Computed Tomography (CT)
55 International Commission on Radiological Protection (ICRP)
55 Interim Resistive Exercise Device (IRED)
55 Japanese Experimental Module (JEM)
References
239 7
55 Medical Operations Requirement Document (MORD)
55 National Academy of Sciences (NAS)
55 National Council on Radiation Protection (NCRP)
55 Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA)
55 Permissible Exposure Limit (PEL)
55 Risk of Exposure Induced Death (REID)
55 Russian Orbital Segment (ROS)
55 Treadmill with Vibration Isolation and Stabilization System (TVIS)
55 United States Orbital Segment (USOS)
??Review Questions
1. List four exercise countermeasure devices on board the ISS.
2. Describe the daily prescribed exercise routine of astronauts on board the ISS.
3. What is the CEVIS?
4. What is a DSB?
5. What is meant by PEL?
6. What is meant by ALARA and AHARS?
7. What is meant by weighting factor?
8. Explain how a TLD measures radiation.
9. Explain how a TEPC works.
10. What is PADLES?
11. What is Liulin used for?
12. Explain why magnetic shielding is not a practical solution for protecting astro-
nauts from radiation.
13. Explain why electrical shielding is not a practical solution for protecting astro-
nauts from radiation.
14. What is spallation?
15. How does NMN work to protect astronauts from radiation?
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Suggested Reading
Chang-Díaz, F., Seedhouse, E. (2017). To Mars and Beyond, Fast! How Plasma Propulsion will
Revolutionize Space Exploration. Springer-Praxis.
Cucinotta, F. A., Kim, M. H., Willingham, V., & George, K. A. (2008). Physical and biological organ
dosimetry analysis for International Space Station astronauts. Radiation Research, 170, 127–138.
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space program: past, present and future. Acta Astronautica, 66, 974–988.
Seedhouse, E. (2018). Space Radiation and Astronaut Safety. Springer Brief.
243 8
Growing Food
in Space
Credit: NASA
Contents
Plants on Earth: A Primer – 244

ermination – 245
G
Roots and Stems – 245
Veggie – 246
lant Pillows – 246
P
Advanced Plant Growth Habitat – 248
Research to Date – 249
MELiSSA – 250
MELiSSA Development – 252
References – 255

244 Chapter 8 · Growing Food in Space
55 Explain the process of germination
55 Distinguish between conduits and tubules
55 Explain what is meant by phototropism, gravitropism, and dietary fatigue
55 Explain how plant pillows work
55 Describe the work conducted in the Veggie facility
55 Describe the four loops of the MELiSSA project
Introduction
As long as there have been astronauts, there have been processed, prepackaged
space rations. Processed fruits, prepackaged nuts, irradiated shrimp cocktail, steril-
ized chicken stew, fluffernutter (a favorite food item of Sunita Williams; I had no
idea what this food – if it indeed can be categorized as a food – was until I showed
my students a video wherein Sunita explained the items stored in the pantry on
International Space Station), you name it. These space rations are heated, freeze-
8 dried, irradiated, thermostabilized, and subjected to just about every processing
process known to man. This is a problem because prepackaged space foods are
sometimes deficient in nutrients (e.g., potassium and vitamin K), and whatever
nutrients they do contain may degrade over time (e.g., vitamin B1 and vitamin C)
[1]. But now, thanks to plant growth experiments being flown on orbit, it may soon
be possible for crop production to be integrated into life support systems of future
spacecraft, thereby allowing astronauts to supplement a stored and packaged diet
with freshly grown vegetables.
Plants on Earth: A Primer
There are more than 300,000 plant species, ranging in size from microscopic to the
largest living organisms on the planet. In common with all organisms, plants need
energy, nutrients, air, and water. What follows is a short primer on some key plant
characteristics. The green color is thanks to a pigment known as chlorophyll, which
helps plants capture light energy via photosynthesis. During this process, leaves
extract carbon dioxide to store energy that is used to help plants grow. As this pro-
cess is taking place, oxygen is released.
The largest category of plants is angiosperms, which are those plants with roots,
stems, leaves, and flowers. The roots serve two very important functions, one of
which is to anchor the plant and the other of which is to absorb water and n utrients.
Stems on the other hand serve as channels through which nutrients and water are
directed between the roots and leaves, which is where gas exchange (the carbon
dioxide and oxygen mentioned earlier) occurs, thanks to pores in the leaves. The
flowers are the reproductive part of the plant, and it is here that pollination takes
place. In some plants, this pollination leads to the formation of fruit – apples,
oranges, peas, acorns, and grapes, for example. These fruits serve myriad important
roles, one of which is seed dispersal.
Plants on Earth: A Primer
245 8
It is the recycling and food properties of plants that make them such a godsend
for engineers designing closed life support systems. You see, without plants, any
manned mission to Mars or beyond is a no-go. Period. Nevertheless, integrating
the growing of plants into a life support system is a fiendishly difficult enterprise.
Just ask the MELiSSA engineers and scientists at the University of Barcelona.
These talented individuals have been working for 30 years, and still they have not
been able to solve the puzzle of growing plants in a closed LSS. In order to do so,
scientists must replicate a terrestrial environment in space. To give you an idea of
just how difficult that is, it is necessary to understand the intricacies of the plant-
growing process. So here goes.
Germination
The seeds of flowering plants comprise a protective coat, an embryo, and a stored
food. The embryo is a new plant that stays dormant until suitable conditions occur
for germination. At one end of the embryo is a feature called the radicle, and it is the
radicle that ultimately develops into the root. At the other end is the hypocotyl, which
eventually forms the stem and the leaves. The food? Well, that can be stored either in
the seed leaves or around the embryo. Once conditions are suitable for germination,
the seed and the embryo take in water, the plant begins to utilize its fuel, and growth
begins. In some cases, germination must be triggered by very specific conditions such
as light at very specific wavelengths or a number of days with very little temperature
variation. During germination, our new plant grows a single root to collect water
and to serve as an anchor. After a while, the radicle becomes the primary root. But
not all roots are alike. Some roots, such as those that belong to carrots, form fat
roots, whereas other plants grow thin roots. Then, as growth continues, leaves begin
to form, and the process of photosynthesis begins, but before we look more closely
at this process, it is instructive to know a little more about roots and stems.
Roots and Stems
First of all, roots do a whole lot more than just anchor a plant. They absorb water
and absorb nutrients, and there are some plants whose roots house bacteria capable
of trapping nitrogen and making it available to the plant. On Earth, most roots
grow continuously and follow the path of least resistance. The direction and prolif-
eration of the root system is largely determined by factors such as water, oxygen
availability, and nutrients in the soil. Water and nutrients are absorbed through
tubes known as “root hairs,” whose purpose is to increase the surface area for water
and nutrients to make their way into the root system. For the rest of the plant,
water and nutrients are transported through the vascular system, which comprises
a network of tubules (which transport water and nutrients) and conduits (which
carry the products of photosynthesis). Many plants have roots and stems that are
reinforced to allow them to survive long periods of time.
Now, you may be wondering how roots know which direction to grow given
that plants do not have a nervous system. Well, plants can still sense, thanks to
special receptor molecules that detect and respond to changes in light. Once these
changes are detected, signaling pathways are triggered and plants react accord-
ingly. These reactions, which are basically a series of chemical signals, are how
plants communicate with each other, and it is how roots know which direction to
grow. But it isn’t just roots that must know what to do, because there must also be
triggers for flowering and seed germination.
How are these processes triggered? The answer is light. A plant’s response to light
is called phototropism, which triggers biochemical responses that ultimately deter-
mine how fast or how slow a plant grows. Because stems grow toward light, they are
said to have a positive phototropic response, whereas roots, which only have a very
weak response to light, are said to have a negative phototropic response. At this point,
it is also important to note that different plants respond to different colors of light,
so this is yet another variable that must be considered and monitored by astronaut
gardeners. Of course the most powerful trigger for root growth and root orientation
is gravity. Gravity is a much stronger stimulus for root orientation than light is for
stem growth. The stimulus gravity provides for root orientation is known as gravitro-
8 pism. Roots are positively gravitropic and stems are negatively gravitropic.
Veggie
“Our plants aren’t looking good.” Those were the words of Scott Kelly as he
tweeted the latest plant-growing update from the International Space Station (ISS)
in 2015. The subject of the tweet was a rather pitiful-looking bunch of baby zinnias
that had curled up and given up the ghost. The killer? Mold, apparently. Gardeners
here on Earth encounter similar problems, which usually prompts a trip to the local
gardening shop. But that won’t be an option on a trip to Mars. No local nurseries
in deep space last time anybody checked. As we know by now, the biggest gap in
closing the loop in the LSS is food production; interplanetary astronauts will need
space gardens if they are to have any chance of surviving a reasonable distance
from LEO. One step (and there are many!) toward achieving that goal is figuring
out how to prevent mold from destroying crops. Fortunately, one system is already
helping scientists figure out the orbital plant-growing business, and its name is
Veggie (. Fig. 8.1).

Plant Pillows
Veggie is a plant growth test facility that currently resides on board the ISS. It’s a
simple low-power system that helps astronauts test plants for eventual consump-
tion. Built by Orbitec in Madison, Wisconsin, thanks to a NASA Small Business
Innovation Research (SBIR) Program, the Veggie system flew to ISS on SpaceX’s
CRS-3 mission in April 2014 [2]. Shortly after Veggie’s arrival, astronauts Rick
Mastracchio and Steve Swanson plugged the system into the Columbus module.
Veggie
247 8
.. Fig. 8.1 Veggie. Credit:
NASA
.. Fig. 8.2 Plant pillows.

Credit: NASA
How does Veggie work? Passive wicking is used to provide water to the plants
as they grow in specially designed plant pillows (. Fig. 8.2) that contain the growth

media, which is basically a special type of clay.

Fertilizer is released into the plant pillows, as is water, which is injected through
a valve. At the beginning of each plant test, each plant pillow receives up to three
seeds (two are backups in case of germination failure). These seeds are oriented so
the plant grows upward and the roots grow downward. The plants then begin to
grow under the daily supervision of astronauts. Simultaneously, an identical crop
is grown on Earth. Some crops grow well, and some not so well. This isn’t surpris-
ing because there are so many variables that influence plant growth: oxygen, car-
bon dioxide, water, temperature variations, humidity variations, and the list goes
on [3, 4]. And then there is the absence of gravity, which causes problems because
of the lack of convective flow.
Over the years, astronauts have grown more than half a dozen types of leafy
greens in Veggie, and more than 100 crops have been tested on the ground. The first
crop, VEG-01, was lettuce planted by Steve Swanson in May 2014. The crop com-
prised one set of six plant pillows, planted with red romaine lettuce seeds. After 33
days, one plant pillow was reported as having not germinated, and two other plant
pillows were lost due to water stress. Ultimately, three healthy plants were the
result. But these weren’t eaten by the crew. Instead, the plants were returned to
Earth for testing and analysis.
The second Veggie experiment, VEG-01 B, began in July 2015. This time it was
Scott Kelly’s turn to work as a gardener together with some help from Kjell
Lindgren. Once again, six plant pillows were planted, each containing red romaine
lettuce seeds. After 33 days, the crew were given permission to harvest half the crops
and taste the lettuce, marking the first time crops had been grown using NASA
hardware and then consumed. Now you may think eating some lettuce in space is
no big deal, but think about it again after eating bland rehydrated fare for several
months. Not that there is anything wrong with the variety of food in the ISS pantry,
but astronauts do succumb to dietary fatigue, which is why lettuce was a welcome
change. The other half of the crops were returned to Earth for microbial analysis.
8 The third crop, VEG- 01 C, comprised a set of plant pillows planted with zinnia
seed. Zinnia was chosen because it has a longer growth period than lettuce. This
third crop-growing exercise was not without its problems, one of which was water
leaking from the wicks that held the seeds. This resulted in moisture seeping from
the leaves, which then began to curl up as mold set in. In an attempt to save the
zinnias, the astronauts turned the airflow up to the high setting, but it wasn’t
enough. The leaves began to die. This prompted the astronauts to break out the
clippers and begin to snip away the moldy parts. It was a good attempt, but the
high fan setting resulted in the plants becoming dehydrated. Not a great situation
for a Mars-bound crew, but fortunately this was the ISS. As always, NASA was
able to put a positive spin on the whole affair, stating that at least they knew zinnia
could survive flood and drought! Ultimately, some zinnias were harvested success-
fully, and seeds from the space-borne zinnias were later germinated on Earth.
Advanced Plant Growth Habitat
Another plant-growing facility on ISS is the Advanced Plant Growth Habitat

(. Fig. 8.3), which comprises a 45-cm square self-sufficient laboratory fitted with

180 sensors and an automated watering capability. A temperature regulation sys-

tem permits air temperatures to be set within 0.5 °C, and the aforementioned sen-
sors relay data about light, humidity, and oxygen levels to the ground. What is the
difference between Veggie and the APH you may be thinking? Well, Veggie is being
used to determine how and why astronauts can grow a food supply, whereas the
APH is being used to quantify the actual circumstances that allow Veggie to grow
plants. Since being assembled on orbit in October 2017, the APH, which has more
Veggie
249 8
.. Fig. 8.3 The Advanced Plant
Growth Habitat (APH) with
door removed. The plant
featured is dwarf wheat. Credit:
NASA
than a passing resemblance to a microwave, has been used to test various crops,
including Arabidopsis thaliana and dwarf wheat.
Research to Date
As was mentioned earlier, whenever a crop is grown in space, an identical one is

grown on the ground so nutritional comparisons can be made. So what have the
scientists found?
Well, let us take a look at the nutritional quality of that red romaine lettuce
(Lactuca sativa) to give the plant its proper moniker [5]. Following return to
Kennedy Space Center, samples from the experiment were maintained in a −80 °C
freezer until analysis. Plant samples were then thawed and the leafy biomass
divided for microbiological and chemical analysis. Following microbial analysis, it
was found that bacterial counts of the plants not grown in space were lower than
the plants that had been grown in space. A screen for foodborne pathogens (such
as E. coli and Salmonella) revealed negative results, but a bacterial screen found
the genus Staphylococcus, certain strains of which can be pathogenic to humans.
When the flight and ground samples were screened for elemental (phosphate, mag-
nesium, zinc) analysis, no significant differences were found, although sodium was
found to be higher in the flight lettuce. Scientists also measured the antioxidant
capacity of the flight and ground samples but did not observe a significant vari-
ance. Some of the differences between the ground and flight samples were attrib-
uted to a mix of terrestrial airborne bacteria, poor air circulation (due to a fan
malfunction in the Veggie compartment), and different fluid behavior in micro-
gravity. Ultimately, however, the scientists reported that from a microbiological
and bacteriological perspective, red romaine lettuce grown in space was safe for
human consumption [6].
MELiSSA
»» We are creating an artificial ecosystem which uses micro-organisms to process the

waste so that we can grow plants. At the bottom is sludge (raw waste) which under-
goes anaerobic (without oxygen) fermentation in darkness. Higher up there’s light
but no oxygen. Higher still there’s oxygen and it’s possible to transform ammonia to
nitrate. At the surface, there’s carbon dioxide, oxygen and light. This is where higher
plants can thrive.
Christophe Lasseur, scientist of the MELiSSA Project team
Being able to grow food the crew can eat is one vital step toward a closed LSS, but how
do we integrate Veggie (or a similar system) into the LSS? Well, to get an idea of how
that might be achieved a discussion of MELiSSA (. Fig. 8.4) is instructive.

MELiSSA, aka the Micro-Ecological Life Support System Alternative, is a project of

the European Space Agency (ESA) and is located at the University of Barcelona in
Catalonia, Spain. The endeavor began in 1988 and has been active ever since [7, 8].
The general model is based on the waste loop cycle of a natural lake ecosystem
8 (. Fig. 8.5).

.. Fig. 8.4 The MELiSSA Project. Credit: ESA

MELiSSA
251 8
.. Fig. 8.5 MELiSSA is based on an aquatic ecosystem depicted above. Credit: ESA
MELiSSA’s Partners and Supporting Subcontractors

The MELiSSA Project is based on a collaborative development program managed
by the ESA’s ESTEC Thermal and Environmental Control Section (TEC-MCT).
The partner institutions are:
55 ESA (European Space Agency)
55 Université Blaise Pascal, Clermont-Ferrand, France
55 Ghent University, Ghent, Belgium
55 IPStar B.V., Vught, Netherlands
55 SCK-CEN, Belgian Nuclear Research Center
55 University of Guelph, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
55 Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona, Barcelona, Spain
55 Vlaamse Instelling voor Technologisch Onderzoek N.V. (VITO), Mol, Belgium
55 Sherpa Engineering S.A., France
55 University of Naples Federico II, Naples, Italy
55 University of Lausanne, Lausanne, Switzerland
55 EnginSoft S.p.A., Mattarello, Italy
55 MELiSSA Foundation PS (Private Stichting), Brussels, Belgium
.. Fig. 8.6 This is what a

bioreactor looks like. Credit:
ESA
In such a system, each output is converted into a new input, thanks to the natu-
ral processes occurring in the lake. These processes take place, thanks to the inter-
8 action of organisms such as bacteria, fungi, and algae. These processes are
replicated in the MELiSSA system, thanks to four bioreactors and a higher plant
compartment (HPC) [9, 10]. Each bioreactor (. Fig. 8.6) functions as a recycling

system for wastes and by-products that are funneled into the HPC, which is where
plants are grown.
MELiSSA Development
The project follows a five-phase approach: basic research and development, pre-
liminary flight experiments, ground and space demonstration, technology transfer,
and communication and education. We’ll discuss each of these phases in this sec-
tion.
Basic Research and Development

One of the first goals of the endeavor was the identification of bacterial strains,
because each compartment requires specific bacteria for the system to work effec-
tively. It was a difficult task, as deploying the wrong bacteria could result in imbal-
ances in the system. Another challenge was genetic evolution. Bear in mind that the
planned LSS will be used for years. In that time, bacteria can evolve in a way that
could change the stability of the system. So, in an effort to troubleshoot these
issues, the MELiSSA Genetics (MELGEN) project was created, its purpose being
to detect and resolve bacterial evolution [11].
A second task of the basic R&D phase was determining the processing capabil-
ity of the waste compartment, which led to the creation of a waste compartment
prototype that was tested using human fecal matter. Then the focus was directed at
the HPC. Even today, the challenges of the HPC remain formidable, because even
by applying the most advanced and complex mathematical modeling in the world,
simulating all the myriad permutations of plant growth variables in an effort to
MELiSSA
253 8
achieve optimal growth output is a difficult endeavor. And when you throw the
microgravity variable into the mix, the problem is amplified.
Preliminary Flight Experiments

Once scientists begin to resolve the problems of growing plants on the ground
inside a terrestrial closed LSS, those experiments must be replicated in space. That
is because, as discussed before, physicochemical and biological processes are
affected in microgravity. Another reason these experiments must be flown in space
is because of the radiation environment. Terrestrial plants are happy living in an
environment that is exposed to just 2 mSv per year, but what happens when these
plants and bacteria are exposed to 80 times that dose? [12] To answer these ques-
tions, the MELiSSA program flew the rotating wall vessel and random positioning
machine on board the ISS.
Ground and Space Demonstration

Following promising results from those experiments, the BIORAT (a misnomer,
because the experiment will fly mice, not rats!) experiment will be flown on ISS.
BIORAT – Putting Mice in the Loop

The BIORAT is a testbed for the engineering principles that will be required for a
full-scale closed LSS. Obviously it makes sense to test such a system on a small
scale first, so the BIORAT will comprise a simple ecosystem that will house small
test animals – mice in this case. The focus of BIORAT will be on two of the loops
in the MELiSSA system: the photosynthetic reactor and the consumer compart-
ment. In this test, carbon dioxide produced by the mice will be consumed by algae
(Spirulina) in the photosynthetic process, thereby resulting in the production of
oxygen. During the test, variables such as lighting, gas transfer, and oxygen pro-
duction will be controlled and growth of Spirulina will be modified using different
light intensities.
In addition to BIORAT, the MELiSSA development path is testing its technology

using the MELiSSA Pilot Plant (MPP). The MPP (. Fig. 8.7) comprises five

compartments: the first of which is for waste degradation, the second for nitrifica-
tion, the third for air revitalization (which is there the Spirulina go to work), the
fourth for food production, and the fifth is where the mock crew (in this case,
mice) reside [8].
In their effort to develop the MPP and the other life support technologies,
MELiSSA engages in scientific collaborations with other groups that are pushing
life support technology to the edge. For example, MELiSSA works with the
Concordia, an Antarctic research station that recycles its wastewater. And as the
MPP is being ground tested, data is being applied to terrestrial systems such as
self-sustainable habitats.
.. Fig. 8.7 The MELiSSA Pilot Plant [8]. Credit: ESA
Technology Transfer
MELiSSA’s technology transfer partner is SEMiLLA, which was established in
2005. The company is responsible for generating budgets to enable further research.
It does this through four spin-off companies: SEMiLLA IPStar, SEMiLLA Health
BV, SEMiLLA sanitation BV, and ezCOL BV. One example of a spinoff technol-
ogy is the use of bacteria to treat water in shipping ballast.
Communication and Education
MELiSSA pursues several education and informational outreach programs and
routinely facilitates presentations at international conferences [13]. I was lucky
enough to visit the site in the summer of 2018 with some students from Embry-
Riddle Aeronautical University, and MELiSSA scientists were kind enough to
spend 2 hours presenting the facility to the students.
So what will a space garden look like? One that is integrated into our fictional
closed LSS. It will probably look more like Veggie than the APH, and it will be
smaller than MELiSSA. A lot smaller!
But there is long way to go before a Mars-bound Veggie 2.0 is flown. Optimal
guidelines for plant growth must be developed, and those guidelines must ensure
that space-bound gardening systems function reliably, that plants grow substan-
tially and regularly. A thorough assessment of all myriad variables that influence
plant growth in space must be conducted. For example, the effects of contamina-
tion [14], of bacteria [15, 16], of carbon dioxide [17], and on the crew [18] and the
environment [19] must be evaluated. Once these variables have been assessed, the
References
255 8
plant-growing systems must be integrated into the LSS, and monitoring systems
[20] must be developed and tested. Then and only then can astronauts crunch their
way across the cosmos.
Key Terms
55 Advanced Plant Growth Habitat (APH)
55 European Space Agency (ESA)
55 Higher Plant Compartment (HPC)
55 Micro-Ecological Life Support System Alternative (MELiSSA)
55 MELiSSA Pilot Plant (MPP)
55 Small Business Innovation Research (SBIR)
??Review Questions
1 . What is the function of chlorophyll?
2. Explain the function of a radicle and a hypocotyl.
3. What is meant by the term positive phototropic response?
4. Describe the process of germination.
5. Explain how plant pillows work.
6. What is meant by dietary fatigue?
7. Describe the functions of each of the four levels of MELiSSA.
8. What does a bioreactor do?
References
1. Borchers, A. T., Keen, C. L., & Gershwin, M. E. (2002). Microgravity and immune responsive-
ness: Implications for space travel. Nutrition, 18, 890–898.
2. Massa, G. D., Dufour, N. F., Carver, J. A., Hummerick, M. E., Wheeler, R. M., Morrow, R. C.,
et al. (2017). Veggie hardware validation testing on the International Space Station. Open
Agriculture, 2, 33–41.
3. Massa, G. D., Newsham, G., Hummerick, M. E., Morrow, R. C., & Wheeler, R. M. (2017).
Preparation for the veggie plant growth system on the International Space Station. Gravitational
and Space Research, 5, 24–34.
4. Massa, G. D., Wheeler, R. M., Morrow, R. C., & Levine, H. G. (2016). Growth chambers on the
International Space Station for large plants. Acta Horticulture, 1134, 215–222.
5. Oliveira, M., Usall, J., Viñas, I., Anguera, M., Gatius, F., & Abadias, M. (2010). Microbiological
quality of fresh lettuce from organic and conventional production. Food Microbiology, 27, 679–684.
6. Khodadad, C. L. M., Hummerick, M. E., Spencer, L. E., Dixit, A. R., Richards, J. T., Romeyn,
M. W., Smith, T. M., Wheeler, R. M., & Massa, G. D. (2020). Microbiological and nutritional
analysis of lettuce crops grown on the International Space Station. Frontiers in Plant Science,
11, 199.
7. Perez, J., Montesinos, J. L., & Godia, F. (1999). Operation of the nitrifying pilot reactor. Technical
Note 37.420. MELISSA. ESTEC/CONTRACT. 11549/95/NL/FG.
8. Albiol, J., Perez, J., Cabello, F., Mengual, X., Montras, A., Masot, S., Camargo, J., & Gòdia, F.
(2003). In M. Lobo & C. Lasseur (Eds.), Leaving and Living with MELiSSA, MELiSSA Pilot
Plant, MELiSSA Final Report 2002 Activity, ESA/EWP-2216 (pp. 206–225).
9. Burtscher, C., Fall, P. A., Christ, O., Wilderer, P. A., & Wuertz, S. (1998). Detection and survival
of pathogens during two-stage thermophilic/mesophilic treatment of suspended organic waste.
Water Science and Technology, 38, 123–126.
10. Chachkhiani, M., Dabert, P., Abzianidze, T., Partskhaladze, G., Tsiklauri, L., Dudauri, T., &
Godon, J. J. (2004). 16S rDNA characterization of bacterial and archaeal communities during
start-up of anaerobic thermophilic digestion of cattle manure. Bioresource Technology, 93, 227–
232.
11. Koops, H.-P., & Pommerening-Röser, A. (2001). Distribution and ecophysiology of the nitrifying
bacteria emphasizing cultured species. FEMS Microbiology Ecology, 37, 1–9.
12. Hendrickx, L., De Wever, H., Hermans, V., Mastroleo, F., Morina, N., Wilmotte, A., Janssen, P.,
& Mergeay, M. (2006). Microbial ecology of the closed artificial ecosystem MELiSSA (Micro-
Ecological Life Support System Alternative): Reinventing and compartmentalizing the earth’s
food and oxygen regeneration system for long-haul space exploration missions. Research in
Microbiology, 157, 77–86.
13. Lasseur, C., Brunet, J., de Weever, H., Dixon, M., Dussap, G., Godia, F., Leys, N., Mergeay, M.,
& Van Der Straeten, D. (2010, August). MELiSSA: The European project of closed life support
system. European Space Agency, TEC-MMG Keplerlaan 1, 2200 AG Noordwijk, The
Netherlands. Gravitational and Space Biology, 23(2), 2–8.
14. Heaton, J. C., & Jones, K. (2008). Microbial contamination of fruit and vegetables and the behav-
iour of enteropathogens in the phyllosphere: A review. Journal of Applied Microbiology, 104,
613–626.
8 15. Dees, M. W., Lysøe, E., Nordskog, B., & Brurberg, M. B. (2015). Bacterial communities associ-
ated with surfaces of leafy greens: Shift in composition and decrease in richness over time.
Applied and Environmental Microbiology, 81, 1530–1539.
16. Leff, J. W., & Fierer, N. (2013). Bacterial communities associated with the surfaces of fresh fruits
and vegetables. PLoS One, 8, e59310.
17. McKeehen, J. D., Smart, D. J., Mackowiack, C. L., Wheeler, R. M., & Nielsen, S. S. (1996). Effect
of CO2 levels on nutrient content of lettuce and radish. Advances in Space Research, 18, 85–92.
18. Perchonok, M., Douglas, G., & Cooper, M. (2012). Risk of performance decrement and crew ill-
ness due to an inadequate food system. HRP Evidence Book. NASA Human Research Program.
Available online at: http://humanresearchroadmap.nasa.gov/Evidence/reports/Food.pdf
19. Sublett, W., Barickman, T., & Sams, C. (2018). The Effect of environment and nutrients on
hydroponic lettuce yield, quality, and phytonutrients. Horticulturae, 4, 48.
20. Yamaguchi, N., Roberts, M., Castro, S., Oubre, C., Makimura, K., Leys, N., et al. (2014).
Microbial monitoring of crewed habitats in space-current status and future perspectives.
Microbes Environments, 29, 250–260.
Suggested Reading
Lasseur, C. (2008, January). MELiSSA: The European project of a closed life support system. Research
Gate.
257 9
Future Life Support

Concepts
Credit: Private Institution Laboratory for Biotechnological Research,

Moscow, Russia, and NASA
Contents
Artificial Gravity – 259

rtificial Gravity in Space – 264
A
Combining Exercise with Artificial Gravity – 264
Optimizing Variables – 265
Hibernation – 266
nimal Hibernation – 266
A
Human Hibernation – 268

Bioprinting – 271
iofabrication – 272
B
Bioprinting Tech – 275
Nanotech – 278
Vasculoid – 278
References – 283
Artificial Gravity
259 9
After completing this chapter, you should be able to:
55 Explain what is meant by the term Coriolis force
55 Explain what is meant by the term torpor
55 List five life support system advantages of having a hibernating crew
55 Describe the process of hibernation in animals
55 Describe the process of preprocessing, processing, and post-processing in the
context of bioprinting
55 Describe the structure of a vasculoid
55 Distinguish between the function of vasculocytes and respirocytes
55 Explain what is meant by defluidization
Introduction
So which life support technologies can we look forward to in the near future? Well,
those science fiction aficionados among you will have an idea. Think of all those
movies that feature hibernation. As we’ll see in this chapter, hibernation isn’t sci-
ence fiction and hasn’t been so for years. Therapeutic hypothermia is a standard
medical procedure that, with a few tweaks, can be adopted by interplanetary astro-
nauts. Then there is nanotechnology. Think about the problems of muscle atrophy
and bone demineralization. Well, nanotechnology may be the solution. And finally,
there is artificial gravity. This is a popular science fiction tool that will probably be
the toughest life support nut to crack, so let us begin with this.
Artificial Gravity
For years, science fiction aficionados have been inundated with scenes of artificial
gravity (2001: A Space Odyssey, Passengers, The Martian, Elysium, the list goes
on). In addition to images of elegant spaceships providing crews with terrestrial
gravity, hopelessly misinformed journalists (when I say misinformed it is because
these journalists write their articles under the assumption that artificial gravity
exists) have for decades touted this technology as the one that enables us to head to
Mars. Headlines pronounce “How that spinning spacecraft from The Martian
would work,” “Artificial Gravity breaks free from Science Fiction,” and “Real
Artificial Gravity for SpaceX Starship.”
But in 2020, more than 65 years after the great Wernher von Braun described
his design for creating artificial gravity, we are still a long, long way from realizing
this technology. We all know that spending a long time in space is bad for you, and
we all know that with 2020 technology, those first steps on Mars will be less of a
giant leap and more of an ungainly stagger – and that’s assuming those astronaut’s
legs don’t fracture! You see, the problem with baseline humans is that they just
haven’t evolved for life in space. So if astronauts are ever to venture to Mars and
beyond, we need some extreme solutions. Cloning, genetic manipulation, and rep-
licants (. Fig. 9.1) perhaps? Maybe, but first let’s take a look at the possibility of

resurrecting the artificial gravity idea.

260 Chapter 9 · Future Life Support Concepts
.. Fig. 9.1 Author’s copy of

In Philip K Dick’s Do Androids
Dream of Electric Sheep, repli-
cants are bioengineered beings
that have superior strength,
speed, agility, and resilience,
which make them perfect for
doing the jobs that baseline
humans can’t – such as exploring
other planets! Credit: Author
So, if we were to engineer some artificial gravity spacecraft, what would it look
like? A torus perhaps? In a torus design, thrusters would rotate the structure
around its axis, thereby generating centripetal force. This means that any astronaut
in the outer part of the structure would experience gravity as the floor of the hull
pushed against them. The amount of artificial gravity would depend on two fac-
tors: the size of the wheel and the speed of the rotation. The bigger the wheel and
the faster it turned, the more pronounced the gravity. This effect is demonstrated in
2001: A Space Odyssey [1].
A smaller scale version of the von Braun-esque station is the Nautilus-X
(. Fig. 9.2). Proposed in January 2011 by a brilliant team (Mark Holderman and

Edward Henderson of the Technology Applications Assessment Team) working

for NASA’s Institute for Advanced Concepts (NIAC), the Nautilus-X was designed
for interplanetary travel for a crew of six.
So, what happened to this revolutionary spacecraft? I spoke with Mark
Holderman, a NASA rocket scientist, and he explained that a change in priorities
and lack of funding ultimately canceled the project. A real shame.
So where does this leave us? There is limited research being conducted on artifi-
cial gravity, but before we take a look at this, it is worth mentioning the Centrifuge
Accommodations Module (CAM). The CAM (. Fig. 9.3) was yet another missed

Artificial Gravity
261 9
.. Fig. 9.2 The Non-Atmospheric Universal Transport Intended for Lengthy United States Explo-
ration, aka Nautilus-X, was projected to cost $3.7 billion (compare this with $12 billion and count-
ing for the Orion capsule… with no artificial gravity!). It was also projected to take only 5 years to
complete (Orion, by comparison, has taken more than a decade and it still isn’t ready!). Credit:
NASA
opportunity in the field of artificial gravity research, as this module was supposed
to have been part of the ISS. But guess what happened? You guessed it: budget cuts!
By now, you may be wondering why this artificial gravity nut is such a hard one
to crack. Well, building a spacecraft that can spin is only half the task. The physi-
ological responses to continuous exposure to artificial gravity are poorly under-
stood. For example, what is the minimum level of gravity required to provide an
effective countermeasure effect? What duration of rotation is required? How much
of an effect will the Coriolis effect and cross-coupled accelerations have on astro-
nauts? There is a long list of unknowns.
To give you an idea of the myriad challenges involved, let us take the idea of
spinning the habitat around an axis as a way of creating artificial gravity. An astro-
naut standing on the rim of such a habitat that rotates at four revolutions per
minute around an axis 56 meters long would experience about the same amount of
gravity as on Earth (. Fig. 9.4). Sounds like an elegant way to create artificial

gravity, right? Well, yes and no. You see, when linear motion is created in a plane
that is not parallel to the axis of rotation, Coriolis force is the result [2–4]. This
9 .. Fig. 9.3 The Centrifuge Accommodations Module, which has been sitting in the car park at the
Japanese Space Agency for more than a decade. Credit: NASA
.. Fig. 9.4 Artificial gravity. Rotating a spacecraft with a suitably long axis would create a centrifu-
gal force of 1 G in the habitat. Credit: Clement et al.
Artificial Gravity
263 9
Coriolis force combines with centrifugal force, with the result that a gravity vector
is generated. The problem here is that the gravity vector is different in magnitude
and direction.
How does this state exert its effect physiologically? Imagine our astronaut walk-
ing in their rotating environment again. This vector would add to the apparent
weight of the astronaut moving in the direction of rotation but would subtract from
the weight when the astronaut moves in the opposite direction of motion. And when
the astronaut moved radially toward the center of rotation, the Coriolis force would
be applied at right angles to the astronaut’s motion in the direction of rotation [5–7].
This is bad enough, but if the astronaut displaced themselves at an angle to the spin
axis, cross-coupled angular accelerations would create a problem for the neuroves-
tibular system. Inside the neurovestibular system, you have semicircular canals that
provide information about angular acceleration (i.e., pitch, roll, and yaw), and in a
stationary environment, the only semicircular canals that are stimulated are those
that correspond to the plane of your head’s rotation. But in a rotating environment,
that same head movement also stimulates the canals that are aligned with the plane
of the rotating environment [8–10]. This is bad, because it creates the sensation of
illusory self-motion, which in turn can cause motion sickness.
So, what can be done to avoid this illusory self-motion? The centrifugal force is
dependent on rotation rate and radius, so it is these factors that must be manipu-
lated. Of course, all these changes will affect the size, complexity, and cost of the
spacecraft, but first it is necessary to determine what the optimum rate of rotation
is and how long humans can be exposed to rotating environments without feeling
adverse physiological effects. Many studies were conducted in the 1960s that tried
to determine these factors (. Fig. 9.5), but many of these applied theoretical limits

to rotation rates to determine the “comfort zone.”
.. Fig. 9.5 Hypothetical com-

fort zone of artificial gravity
based on studies conducted in
the 1960s. Credit: T. W. Hall
(from “Artificial Gravity in
Theory and Practice.” Confer-
ence Paper, July 2016: 46th
International Conference on
Environmental Systems (ICES),
Vienna, Austria)
Artificial Gravity in Space
More recently, the focus has been on short-radius centrifugation. One reason for
this is that building a rotating spacecraft presents a serious engineering and finan-
cial challenge. Another reason is that some scientists argue it may not be necessary
to provide artificial gravity 24/7. Perhaps intermittent artificial gravity will do the
trick? Who knows? One such human-rated centrifuge was flown on the STS-90
Neurolab mission in 1998 [3, 8]. More than 20 years later, this remains the first and
only inflight evaluation of artificial gravity on astronauts. Incidentally, the Neurolab
centrifuge generated between 0.5 and 1 G along the astronaut’s longitudinal and
transverse axis, and this was tolerated well. In this study, in those astronauts who
were subjected to this G level for 20 minutes every other day, cardiovascular decon-
ditioning was slightly reduced [3, 8].
Combining Exercise with Artificial Gravity
Back on the ground, scientists have experimented with contraptions that combine
exercise with artificial gravity (. Fig. 9.6). The theory is that if astronauts exercise

while they are being spun on a centrifuge, they won’t have to spend as much time
9 exercising on the regular suite of countermeasures. Call it multitasking.
During their time on these short-arm/short-radius centrifuges, test subjects lie
supine with their head at the axis of rotation, and their feet pointed outward, which
means the centrifugal force is along the longitudinal axis. In this configuration, the
gravity gradient exerts an effect on hydrostatic pressure and therefore exerts an
.. Fig. 9.6 The next-generation short-arm centrifuge at DLR, Germany. Credit: DLR/ESA
Artificial Gravity
265 9
effect on the cardiovascular system [11–13]. How much of an effect? Well, that’s
why they are conducting the studies. But what about that Coriolis force mentioned
earlier? Will astronauts still suffer from that on the short-arm centrifuges? Recall
that the Coriolis force is proportional to the linear velocity of the motion, the mass
of the object being moved, and the rotation rate. This all means that the Coriolis
force will still be a factor in short-arm centrifuges [12, 14].
But will it still be as much of a problem? Probably not. Look at . Fig. 9.6; you

can see how restricted the test subject is. This restricted position will help alleviate
some of the problems encountered in the fictional rotating habitat configuration
discussed earlier. So what is the right prescription of gravity and exposure time on
board a short-arm centrifuge? What duration and frequency should be applied?
How will undesirable side effects be countered? How much artificial gravity train-
ing will be required by crews? How should the G-loads be applied? What pharma-
cological interventions will be required to optimize crew health? What onset and
offset rates should be applied? How effective are specific G-loads at reducing
muscle atrophy? We don’t know, hence the requirement for many, many more
studies.
Optimizing Variables
The good news for NASA is that it has time on its side, because even if you are the
most reckless of optimists, the agency’s manned Mars mission won’t be happening
until at least the 2040s or 2050s. That gives researchers time to conduct studies into
bedrest and intermittent centrifugation to determine how much bone and muscle
atrophy is reduced and to develop all the aforementioned protocols. Having said
that, you can conduct all the bedrest short-radius centrifuge studies in the world,
but at the end of the day, you are still not replicating exactly what will happen in
space.
In 2020, bedrest studies dedicated to solving the artificial gravity puzzle are few
and very far between. There have been some studies that evaluated sensorimotor
performance [10, 15] and a few investigations that have assessed the utility of par-
tial gravity analogs [15], but most of these studies exposed their subjects to test
durations of days and weeks, which is far short of the 12 months required for a
return trip to Mars. So, let’s take a look at some of those variables again: onset rate,
offset rate, G-load, period of exposure to G-load, adaptation time following offset
of G, and exercise. Now, think of just one permutation. We’ll consider an onset
rate of 0.2G/sec and have the subject spend 2 hours per day at 1-G while complet-
ing exercise at 75 percent of their maximal oxygen uptake with an offset rate of
0.2G/sec and an post-G adaptation time of 2 hours. Each subject will follow this
protocol in a bedrest facility for 12 months. We’ll call this a pilot study, so we’ll
select just 24 subjects, 12 male and 12 female. After 1 year, the scientists can crunch
the numbers and start another protocol. Take another look at the number of vari-
ables and now think how many permutations of those variables are possible. Such
a study would take...well, it would take a long time!
So there is a long way to go in the pursuit of artificial gravity. And while

ground-based studies will help determine the potential for artificial gravity, ulti-
mately these studies will need to be validated in space. In 2020, no human-rated
centrifuge built to counteract physiological deconditioning has been flown in
space since STS-90/Neurolab, and no such device is even on the drawing board.
Hopefully this state of affairs changes soon, and perhaps with a concerted
effort, we may see some form of artificial gravity by the end of the twenty-first
century.
Hibernation
Hibernation, or stasis as it is occasionally referred, is a concept that is routinely

used in science fiction movies (Alien, Aliens, Avatar, Interstellar, Pandorum,
Passengers, to name just a few). If you think hibernation is a little far-fetched, con-
sider an article published in the British Medical Journal over 100 years ago entitled
“Human Hibernation” [16]. The article, reprinted in 2000, describes how Russian
peasants survived famine by sleeping for up to 6 months of the year. The sleep was
known as lotska. Here’s an excerpt:
9 »» A practice closely akin to hibernation is said to be general among Russian peasants

in the Pskov Government, where food is scanty to a degree almost equivalent to
chronic famine. Not having provisions enough to carry them through the whole
year, they adopt the economical expedient of spending one half of it in sleep. This
custom has existed among them from time immemorial.
At the first fall of snow the whole family gathers round the stove, lies down,
ceases to wrestle with the problems of human existence, and quietly goes to sleep.
Once a day every one wakes up to eat a piece of hard bread, of which an amount
sufficient to last six months has providently been baked in the previous autumn.
When the bread has been washed down with a draught of water, everyone goes to
sleep again. The members of the family take it in turn to watch and keep the fire
alight.
After six months of this reposeful existence the family wakes up, shakes itself,
goes out to see if the grass is growing, and by-and-by sets to work at summer tasks.
The country remains comparatively lively till the following winter, when again all
signs of life disappear and all is silent, except we presume for the snores of the
sleepers.
Animal Hibernation
In nature, hibernation is a time when arctic ground squirrels, polar bears, lemurs,
and all the other hibernators of the animal world “sleep” through cold weather.
But this sleep isn’t like human sleep. In true hibernation, animals can be moved
Hibernation
267 9
around and not know it, although you probably wouldn’t want to test this theory
with a polar bear! You see, hibernation is just one of the five forms of dormancy
observed in hibernating animals. The other forms of dormancy are sleep, torpor,
winter sleep, and summer sleep.
To prepare for their hibernative increment, animals tend to eat extra food in the
autumn and pack on the pounds needed to survive the hibernation period. Having
increased their waistline, hibernators search for a suitable place to hibernate – the
hibernaculum. It is thought that some animals, such as arctic ground squirrels,
enter hibernation, thanks to a “trigger molecule” that initiates hibernation. This
molecule is termed the hibernation induction trigger (HIT), and its action is not
completely understood, but it is possible a similar technique may be used to hiber-
nate astronauts. Why would we do this? The obvious answer is to reduce demand
on the life support system (. Table 9.1).

Once a hibernating animal enters hibernation, a number of things happen. In the

ground squirrel (sidebar), respiratory rate drops from 200 breaths per minute to just
4–5 breaths per minute, and heart rate falls from 150 to 5 beats per minute. The fall in
breathing rate and heart rate result in a reduction in metabolic rate, but this change
doesn’t stay the same throughout hibernation, because hibernating animals occasion-
ally wake to eat, drink, and eliminate wastes. During these wakeful periods, body
temperature and other physiological parameters return to normal levels. During
hibernation, animals use 70 to 100 times less energy than when active (to maintain
basic physiological function, these animals get energy in the form of adenosine tri-
phosphate (ATP), which is produced in the mitochondria). Once the animal exits
.. Table 9.1 Effect of hibernation on life support system requirements
Life support area Purpose Effect of hibernation
Atmosphere Atmosphere control, temperature/humidity Reduced heating and

management control, atmosphere regeneration, ventilation regeneration
requirement
Water Provision of potable and hygienic water, Reduced dramatically
management recovery and processing wastewater
Food Provision and production of food Reduced dramatically
production/
storage
Waste Collection, storage, and processing of Reduced dramatically
management human waste and refuse
Crew safety Fire detection and suppression Increased
Crew psychology Maintenance of crew mental health Reduced dramatically
Crew health Bone demineralization and muscle atrophy Augmented systems
required
hibernation, the biochemistry and metabolism return to normal, although the ani-
mal, having woken after spending months asleep, may feel a little discombobulated!
Human Hibernation
So, it seems we have a reasonable understanding of how animals hibernate, but

how would you induce an extended comatose state in a human? Although the pro-
cedure is currently barely beyond the science fiction arena, thanks to research
efforts conducted by the European Space Agency (ESA) and SpaceWorks, this
technology may one day be operational.
Let us focus on the work of ESA first. ESA scientists have suggested astronaut
hibernation strategies may mirror those of the arctic ground squirrel, animals that
undergo three defined periods of hibernation: entry, the hibernation period, and
exit. We will now take a look at how astronauts might prepare for each of these
stages.
Stage 1: Entry
First, the crew would be required to attain a high level of fitness to maximize their
bodies’ ability to deal with the hibernative period. Once en route, the crew would
9 be connected to intravenous tubes, through which fluids and electrolytes would be
administered to compensate for changes in blood composition. Then, the HIT
would place the crew in a state of hibernation. The key to putting astronauts in a
state of hibernation may lie in a synthetic, opioid-like compound called DADLE,
or Ala-(D) Leuenkephalin, which, when injected into squirrels, can trigger hiberna-
tion during the summer.
Stage 2: Hypersleep Increment

During the hibernation phase, a suite of medical sensing facilities would monitor
the state of the crew. In addition to checking that body temperature, heart rate,
brain activity, and respiration stayed within normal boundaries, the medical equip-
ment would also monitor blood pressure, blood glucose levels, and blood gases.
Exactly what would happen to the astronauts as they hibernated isn’t known.
While humans have never needed to hibernate for protection against the elements
(except those Russian peasants!), is it possible that we once had the biological
mechanisms to regulate our metabolic activity and temperature for long periods of
time? Do we still have those mechanisms and just not use them perhaps? Until
scientists perform more studies, we won’t know.
Stage 3: Exit
After their interplanetary trip, astronauts would be revived. This event would
probably occur shortly before entering orbit due to the deleterious effects of having
been in hibernation. But to what degree would hibernation have affected the crew?
The truth is, no one knows. In the film Pandorum, hibernation leaves crewmembers
Hibernation
269 9
with amnesia, although they recover later. Research has suggested the deep torpor
associated with hibernation may be problematic for the brain, so having a hand-
book outlining the disorientation recovery procedures will probably be helpful
(Appendix VI). The discombobulating effects of hibernation occur during torpor
entry, when the body’s temperature is gradually reduced. The cooling process
results in reduced cortical power and profound differences in sleep architecture and
memory consolidation. More worrying for those awakening from hibernation are
the potentially deleterious effects upon spatial memory and operational condition-
ing. Imagine waking up from hibernation and not knowing where you are. Of
course, until hibernation is performed on humans, we just won’t know for sure. It
is possible that humans will need only to follow a few instructions written in a
Hypersleep Recovery Procedures (HRP) manual (Appendix VI) to fully recover, or
perhaps more insidious effects may be the consequence.
How Squirrels Hibernate

Richardson’s ground squirrels, also followed by 12–15 hours when the ani-
called gophers, hibernate for 4–9 mal is warm but mostly inactive. Body
months of the year, depending on age temperature then slowly cools back
and gender. Each animal hibernates down to ambient soil temperature, and
underground by itself in its own hiber- the squirrel enters another period of
naculum. The squirrels spend 85–92% torpor. Generally, the colder the soil,
of hibernation in the physiological state the colder the squirrel and the longer
of torpor, during which time their body the period of torpor.
temperature is about the same as the During hibernation, the squirrels
temperature of the surrounding soil, metabolize fat reserves built up during
and heart rate, respiration, and metab- their active season. Most of this fat is
olism slow dramatically. In January, used during revival periods between
these squirrels spend 20 to 25 consecu- during hibernation when the squirrel
tive days in torpor, with their body tem- rapidly warms up and stays warm for
perature dropping as low as 0 °C. In several hours. Thus, arousals are meta-
between the periods of torpor, the bolically expensive. Males usually end
squirrels rewarm to the normal mam- their hibernation about a week before
malian body temperature of 37 °C. The they appear aboveground, while females
revivals last less than 24 hours and con- end it the day before they appear
sist of a 2–3-hour rewarming period, aboveground.
Another way astronauts may be placed in a hibernative state is via a process known
as therapeutic hypothermia. This procedure is being investigated by SpaceWorks,
thanks to funding from NASA’s Innovative Advanced Concepts Program.
Therapeutic hypothermia places astronauts in an inactive, low-metabolic state,
also known as torpor. Science fiction? Not at all. Therapeutic hypothermia is used
in hospitals to place patients into sedated hypothermia following a serious injury
.. Fig. 9.7 The habitat, designed by SpaceWorks Enterprises, Inc., can support six crewmembers for
a duration of 180 days outbound, a 500-day surface stay, and 180 days inbound. To prevent muscle
9 atrophy, neuromuscular electric stimulation is used (this is still a developing technology), and nutri-
ents are delivered via central venous catheter in the chest (note: hibernation is not for the squea-
mish!). Credit: SpaceWorks/NASA
to allow them to heal while in a low metabolic state. This is achieved by lowering
the body temperature by 5 °C. It doesn’t sound like much, but when you do this, the
body’s metabolic rate is reduced by 50 to 70 percent. Of course, the astronauts will
still need food, but that is accomplished via a technique known as total parenteral
nutrition (TPN), which basically means a catheter delivers liquid nutrients directly
into the bloodstream (. Fig. 9.7).

Monitoring
How will astronauts be monitored? Most likely, this will feature an AI system capa-
ble of monitoring medical parameters such as body temperature, electrocardio-
gram, heart rate, brain activity, gas exchange, blood pressure, and a whole host of
other variables ranging from blood glucose and metabolite levels to gas analysis
and clotting times. Data would be passed on to an AI hibernative agent – an avatar
of sorts – and to mission control for analysis. The AI hibernative agent would act
as a surrogate nurse for the duration of the voyage. It would be capable of inter-
preting medical information supplied by the monitoring system and acting on that
information in a timely manner. If a problem developed, the agent might consult
with mission control. If it was judged the contingency was serious and the
communication delays too long, the agent would intervene autonomously.
This AI would probably be organized on two levels. The higher level would
monitor fault detection, diagnosis, and planning, while the lower level would be
responsible for perception, data acquisition, and dealing with messages from flight
Bioprinting
271 9
surgeons at mission control. The AI would probably be loaded with a database
organized under six organ systems (cardiovascular, pulmonary, renal, hematologi-
cal, neurological, and metabolic/endocrine). This repository would contain infor-
mation on diseases/complications and treatment actions and plans. Because of the
need to operate autonomously in the event of a medical emergency, the agent
would be capable of three major reasoning components. The first of these would
perform data analysis and interpretation, the second would perform diagnoses and
therapy management, while the third would perform protocol-based treatment. A
central monitoring computer (CMC) would be used as the core element of the sen-
sor monitoring system. The CMC would gather data sent by medical sensors and
log and update data gathered in the central database. Each astronaut would wear a
sensor unit that would monitor and transmit their vital signs to the CMC.
Life Support
Thanks to the astronauts sleeping to their destination, LSS requirements could be
scaled down. For example, food production and preparation facilities will be
redundant, and hygiene facilities will obviously be scaled down and perhaps even
eliminated altogether. One aspect of life support that will need to be considered is
the inclusion of artificial gravity due to the prolonged immobility of the crew. It’s
possible the hibernaculum will actually be integrated into an artificial gravity facil-
ity to prevent the crew from losing too much bone and muscle.
If thoughts of long-duration space journeys and hibernation conjure up images
of the opening scene of Alien, you’re not alone. Although placing astronauts into
hibernation would solve many problems during the deep space phases of an ECM,
several issues remain unresolved. Scientists still need to develop a trigger (HIT)
compound capable of inducing a state of hibernation and research the secondary
effects of hibernation. For example, the effects of hibernation on memory, the
metabolism, or the immune system are unknown. Other problems include the del-
eterious effects of zero gravity combined with the inactivity of hibernation,
although this may be resolved by using some means of artificial gravity. Another
challenge is how to induce the hibernation state, establish it, regulate it, and exit
that state and how to administrate compounds to a hibernating human. Achieving
and perfecting human hibernation will require expertise in and integration of
pharmacology, genetic engineering, environmental control, medical monitoring,
AI, radiation shielding, therapeutics, spacecraft engineering, and life support. Only
when all these disciplines have been successfully integrated will stasis be capable of
making long-haul spaceflight a little more comfortable.
At the moment, the level of inquiry really is just speculative, but while stasis
may seem the stuff of science fiction, as so often happens, science fiction has a
habit of becoming fact.
Bioprinting
»» There is no such thing as a science fiction. There is only science eventuality.

Professor Krummel. Chair of Department if Surgery, Stanford University, CA
Imagine the following scenario: Sometime in the near future, you have a three-
dimensional scan of your body. While driving back from the medical clinic, you’re
involved in a head-on collision with another car. You lose your right ear and your
left arm below the elbow. Worse, the missing body parts are so badly mangled they
can’t be stitched back. Fortunately, thanks to that 3D scan, your doctor selects the
specs on your missing body parts and prints the body parts, which are identical to
the ones you lost. You have surgery the same day to have the body parts reattached,
and the doctor sends you on your way.
Biofabrication
Welcome to the world of bioprinting, aka biofabrication, a future of organ and

body part replacement technologies produced by the latest breakthroughs in recon-
structive medicine and bioprinting. Need a spare organ? A new liver perhaps? No
problem. Just press “Print!” Now, printing a kidney or another human organ may
sound like something out of a science fiction novel, but with the advancements in
3D printing technology, the idea is no longer so far-fetched. In fact, in 2019 a bio-
printer was flown to the ISS, and in 2020, the astronauts started bioprinting heart
tissue! Today, the technology is used to manufacture everything from prosthetic
9 limbs to dental fixtures. One of the leaders in this biotech revolution is Organovo,
a San Diego-based company that focuses on regenerative medicine. To print func-
tional tissue, Organovo uses 3D printers, called bioprinters (. Fig. 9.8).
.. Fig. 9.8 The bioprinter currently in use on board the ISS. Formally known as the BioFabrication
Facility (BFF), the printer, manufactured by Techshot, is used to print cardiac tissue of various thick-
nesses. Credit: NASA
Bioprinting
273 9
So where does bioprinting fit into the world of manned spaceflight? Well,
manned spaceflight has seen significant changes over the past few decades, the
most recent development being the manning of the ISS since 2000. And thanks to
the success of the ISS, manned missions to the Moon and Mars are the logical next
step. But these missions represent a huge step in technical, scientific, and medical
complexity. The duration of Mars missions will raise several health issues, some of
which may ultimately be limiting factors (see . Table 9.2 for a list of some of

these). Furthermore, given the impossibility of an abort, manned Mars missions

will need to be self-sustainable. Given such a mission scenario, the integration of a
technology such as biofabrication for regenerative medical support and organ
reproduction is an essential enabling technology [17].
Biofabrication is a technology that uses biological raw materials, extracellular
matrices, living cells, and tissues to construct something that is different from its
components. The technology basically comprises six essential elements:
55 A computer-aided design (CAD) drawing of the desired organ (think of this as
a blueprint)
55 Cells or cell-encapsulated hydrogels capable of natural self-assembly (this is
referred to as bioink in the biofabrication world)
55 A bioprinter for printing the bioink
55 A biocartridge of the material to be deposited
55 A bioprocessible biomimetic hydrogel to transfer material
55 A container containing the resulting printed 3D tissue construct capable of
post-conditioning (bioreactor)
Preprocessing
The first step is preprocessing. This requires a blueprint of the structure to be
printed. Typically, this blueprint is generated using CAD, which also provides
information about the cells’ location. Once this information is generated, the digi-
tized image is reconstructed using bio-imaging and/or image acquisition tech-
niques. These techniques, such as magnetic resonance imaging (MRI), are used to
capture the image in a way that provides detailed representations of the gross anat-
omy of organs. These techniques provide a good representation of the structure
and cellular-level details such as tissue composition and distribution. If more
detailed information of the tissue composition and the size and shape of the organ
is needed, serial histological sections can be used to reconstruct 3D representa-
tions. Once the blueprint is designed, the organ can be printed and solidified [19].
Processing
This step, processing, utilizes devices designed to deliver and deposit material onto
a substrate. Using the blueprint, the layer-by-layer placement of natural materials
(typically cells) is achieved using a bioprinter. Before this stage occurs, bioink is
prepared, and the resulting bioink droplets loaded into a biocartridge. Bioink is
then sent through a syringe-like nozzle and deposited onto biopaper. The desired
cell constructs are created by precise placement of the cells based on the blueprint.
During the printing process, layers of cells are separated by a thin layer of biomi-
metic hydrogel to allow the resulting 3D tissue structure to fuse [20, 21].
.. Table 9.2 Probability occurrence of health issues during three mission scenarios [18]1
Health challenge Scenario 1 (180 days Scenario 2 (1,000 days Scenario 3 (500 days
Moon mission) Mars mission) Mars mission)
On board On On board On On board On

spacecraft lunar spacecraft Mars spacecraft Mars
surface surface surface
Respiratory 0.35 7.9 39.3 23 28.2 1.3

infections
Cystitis 0.08 1.8 8.8 5.2 6.3 0.3
Skin infections 0.08 1.8 8.8 5.2 6.3 0.3
Cardiovascular AR 0.02 0.1 0.06 0.07 0.003
disease
Fracture of the AR 0.004 0.02 0.01 0.01 AR
skull
Spinal fracture AR 0.004 0.02 0.01 0.01 AR
9 Upper limb
fracture
AR 0.01 0.06 0.04 0.04 0.002
Lower limb AR 0.006 0.03 0.02 0.02 AR

fracture
Sprains and 0.006 0.13 0.7 0.4 0.5 0.03
strains
Head injury AR 0.004 0.02 0.01 0.01 AR
Open wounds AR 0.02 0.1 0.06 0.07 0.004
Superficial AR 0.02 0.1 0.06 0.07 0.004
injury
Contusion 0.002 0.04 0.2 0.1 0.1 0.007
Crushing injury AR 0.02 0.1 0.06 0.07 0.003
Burns AR 0.02 0.1 0.06 0.07 0.003
Dental issues AR 0.02 0.1 0.06 0.07 0.003
AR accepted risk, because the probability of occurrence is too low (<0.001); BFO blood form-
ing organs
1Adapted from [18]
Table note: obviously, not all these health challenges can be solved with bioprinting, but most
can be solved with either bioprinting or nanotechnology, which is discussed in the following
section
Bioprinting
275 9
Post-processing
After the processing stage, all you have is printed tissue and organ constructs.
Because these aren’t yet mature functional tissues, what is needed is a rapid process
of self-assembly, maturation, and differentiation – the post-processing stage. Prior
to post-processing, the constructs have the physical properties of a viscoelastic
fluid, whereas actual organs usually have the physical properties of an elastic solid.
So, for the constructs to become solid organs, they have to undergo accelerated tis-
sue maturation, which can only be achieved in a wet environment using a special
perfusion device – a bioreactor – that allows the cells to survive. Basically, what the
bioreactor does is to ensure stable chemical and mechanical conditioning of the
printed tissue and organ construct. To accurately bioprint organs, it is necessary to
deposit the cells in a very precise manner. Today, this is achieved by using modified
bioprinters/deposition devices that use robotically controlled syringe-like delivery
tools [22, 23]. Once these specialized delivery tools have deposited the cells, the
printed tissue constructs grow and develop in a wet environment, similar to the
conditions found in the body. We’ll go into a little more detail in the next section.
Bioprinting Tech
We’ll start with an explanation of the most popular tissue engineering approach, a
technique known as solid scaffold-based biofabrication. This technology was
invented by Robert Langer and Joseph Vacanti at the Massachusetts Institute of
Technology (MIT). In Langer and Vacanti’s technology, a scaffold is a temporary
supporting structure and is biodegradable. These scaffolds, which can be synthetic
or naturally derived, are laid down in a top-down approach and have been used to
create relatively simple tissue-engineered bladders. While this technology works for
creating simple body structures, the seeding or injection of stem cells into a decel-
lularized matrix – which is essentially what this technology does – probably won’t
work for complex organs such as the heart. That’s because the technology uses
animal-derived xenogeneic (meaning they are derived from a different species) scaf-
folds which, while suitable immunologically for a bladder of a bronchus, won’t
work for a liver or a lung. So, to get around this problem, scientists are investigat-
ing the use of scaffolds produced by using living human cells. These are allogeneic,
meaning they are genetically different because they are derived from separate indi-
viduals of the same species and therefore work much better immunologically than
animal-derived xenogeneic scaffolds [24].
Cell Sheet Technology

Another popular approach in tissue engineering is cell sheet technology, a biofabri-
cation technique that may be applied to the construction of heart valves. Cell sheet
technology, as its name suggests, comprises a solid scaffold-free self-assembly pro-
cess that utilizes stacked or rolled layers of engineered tissue fused to form thicker
constructs. This technology has already been used to build the first completely
biological tissue-engineered vascular graft.
But what about printing organs? For organ printing, scientists must utilize
more complex technology because, well, organs are complicated parts of your
body. One way to print organs is to use directed tissue self-assembly, which works
by employing self-assembling tissue spheroids as building blocks. When these
building blocks are placed close together, fusion occurs, a process that happens to
be ubiquitous during embryonic development. And because this process mirrors
what happens biologically, it is said to be biomimetic. Already, this technology has
been used to bioprint a branched vascular tree.
While facing serious technical challenges, step by step, this organ printing tech-
nology will eventually be used to build 3D vascularized functional human organs
(and ultimately, these organs will be printed in space – and on the surface of Mars!).
In fact, some bioprinting techniques are designed specifically with certain organs in
mind. Take centrifugal casting. This technology allows scientists to fabricate tubu-
lar scaffolds with high cell density in a porous scaffold, and while this technology
isn’t sufficiently versatile to biofabricate all the organs in the body, there are plenty
of tubular organs that can be made [25].
Electrospinning
Another fast-developing biofabrication technology is electrospinning, a process
that interfaces nanotechnology and tissue engineering. Originally used on syn-
9 thetic and natural polymers, the technology can be applied to nanoscale tissue-
engineered scaffolds. It’s an important technology in biofabrication because it
allows scientists to overcome some of the problems encountered when building
structures on a microscopic scale. One of these challenges is fabricating three-
dimensional scaffolds to support cellular in-growth and proliferation. Once con-
structed, these neotissues must be adapted by the body to carry out a physiological
function. Here, the process becomes difficult, because the cells on the surfaces of
the scaffolds are sensitive to topography. This is where electrospinning comes into
its own, because the technology can be altered to change the surface topography of
the fibers themselves or the topography of the web of spun fibers.
Like most cutting-edge technologies, there are still some bugs. For example, one
of the problems of electrospinning is cell seeding; while dense biomimetic nano-
structuralized matrices are great for getting cells to stick, they aren’t so good when
it comes to allowing cells to pass through the matrices. One way to overcome this is
to use cryospinning, which allows scientists to create custom-sized holes in electro-
spun matrices, but then there is the problem of compromising the biomechanical
properties of the scaffold.
Game-Changing Technology
Scientists already know how to bioprint tissues, and the capability of bioprinting
organs doesn’t seem that far over the horizon. But what about other body parts
such as bones or, say, a trachea? Here, progress is being made. Consider the case of
Claudia Castillo, 30, a Colombian woman who in 2008 became the world’s first
recipient of windpipe tissue constructed from a combination of donated tissue and
Bioprinting
277 9
her own cells. Ms. Castillo had suffered a collapse of the tracheal branch of her
windpipe leading to her left lung following a severe tuberculosis infection. As she
was barely able to breathe, doctors decided to attempt trachea reconstruction by
taking a 7-cm section of the trachea from a deceased donor. Researchers at the
University of Padua, Italy, used detergent and enzymes to purge the donated tra-
chea of all the donor’s cells until all that was left was a solid scaffold of connective
tissue. Meanwhile, a team from Bristol in the United Kingdom took the stem cells
from Ms. Castillo’s bone marrow and coaxed them into developing into the carti-
lage cells that normally coat windpipes. Then, Ms. Castillo’s cells were coated onto
the donated tracheal scaffold in a special bioreactor, after which the biologically
printed trachea was ready to be transported to Barcelona, where surgeon Paolo
Macchiarini was waiting to replace Ms. Castillo’s damaged trachea with the newly
constructed tissue. The entire procedure cost $21,000.
So, scientists can bioprint a trachea, and they are confident they will be able to
bioprint a kidney in the near future. But what about more complex organs like liv-
ers, and how will scientists integrate these body parts into the body so the tissues
are kept alive and the organs function as they should? Let’s take the first problem.
It will be challenging to bioprint complex organs, but researchers are confident
because while every organ type and tissue structure has its own complicated
internal architecture, researchers believe there are basic cell patterns that, once
fully understood, can be readily duplicated by bioprinting. When it comes to the
challenge of integrating all these organs and body parts, biomedical engineers say
they haven’t yet mastered ways to print the microscopic networks of capillaries that
run between layers of cells to keep normal tissue alive. The challenge of figuring
out how to feed tissues is a big one, because there must be a “bridge” from the
organ to the new host; a new organ has arteries and veins which must be hooked
up to the patient’s corresponding arteries and veins.
At the current level of bioprinting technology, a regular transplant will prolong
life for much longer than anything created in a lab or a spacecraft. That’s because
lab-generated/printed organs can’t really be considered as organs, since these
organs are much less sophisticated than the ones naturally found in the body. For
example, a regular liver is comprised of several dozen types of cells, each of which
performs a specific function. But the livers researchers are making in the lab only
have a few cell types in them, which are nowhere near the complexity naturally
found in the body. So, the only use for these organoids, as researchers have dubbed
them, is short-term prolongation of life. Another problem yet to be resolved is
sustaining the organ once it is in the body. One of the ways to ensure the organ isn’t
rejected is to have the patient’s immune cells migrate back in, as long as the organ
isn’t initially rejected [26, 27]. Problem is, researchers don’t fully understand these
cells, never mind being able to bioprint them. But work is underway, and gradually
researchers are learning more and more about how to grow human cells outside of
the human body. There is also a lot of support for this area from pharmaceutical
companies, and with enough financial support, researchers will be able to break
through a lot of these barriers.
Nanotech
In the discussion on the subject of hibernation, we mentioned the challenge of

maintaining muscle mass in astronauts while they slept. Another problem is miti-
gating the problem of bone demineralization. And then there is the radiation issue
and all those potential health issues that may be encountered (see . Table 9.2).

How can these challenges be met? Nanotechnology may have the answer.
Consider the following scenario. Built using nanomaterials called dendrimers,
molecule-sized sensors could be injected into our hibernating crew to warn of radi-
ation health impacts and repair damage caused by radiation. The drug-delivery
capsules are tiny, measuring only a few hundred nanometers – smaller than a bac-
terium. An injection with a hypodermic needle could release millions of these cap-
sules into the astronaut’s bloodstream. Once there, nanoparticles could use the
body’s cellular signaling system to hunt down and repair radiation-damaged cells.
How? Well, the trillions of cells in the human body identify themselves and com-
municate with each other using molecules embedded in their membranes. These
molecules act as chemical “flags” for communicating with other cells, and when
cells are damaged by radiation, they produce markers and place them on their
outer surfaces. Basically, it’s a system whereby cells talk to each other and say
“Hey, I’m damaged.” What nanoscientists could do is implant molecules on the
9 outer surface of the nanoparticles that bind to the markers and then program the
nanoparticles to search for radiation-damaged cells. Once the nanoparticles found
the damaged cells, they could assess the extent of the injury. If the cell was very
badly damaged, the nanoparticles could enter the cell and program it for destruc-
tion. If the damage was judged repairable, the nanoparticles would release DNA
repair enzymes and fix the cell (. Figs. 9.9, 9.10, and 9.11).

Vasculoid
While the nanosensors in the bloodstream could help astronauts monitor radiation
damage and even repair it, there’s still a chance that even a system as versatile as
this could be overwhelmed by a solar flare event. Such an event could put vital
blood-making cells in jeopardy, and without a fresh supply of red and white blood
.. Fig. 9.9 Cell rover. These

nanobots patrol the circulatory
system, searching for breaches. ©
E-spaces and Robert A. Freitas
Jr., 7 3danimation.e-spaces.com

and 7 www.rfreitas.com, and

Philippe van Nedervelde

Nanotech
279 9
.. Fig. 9.10 Dendrimer
complex docking on cellular
folate receptors. © E-spaces
and Robert A. Freitas Jr.,
7 3danimation.e-spaces.com

and 7 www.rfreitas.com, and

Philippe van Nedervelde
cells, our crew would quickly become anemic, their immune system would collapse,
and without medical attention, they would die. So why not simply replace the blood
with a more rugged system? Well, that’s exactly what nanoscientists Robert Freitas
and Christopher Phoenix propose doing. Freitas and Phoenix’s concept involves
exchanging a person’s blood with 500 trillion oxygen and nutrient-carrying nano-
bots [28–30]. The system is called the vasculoid (a vascular-like machine) and is
designed to duplicate every function of blood, albeit more efficiently. A key ele-
ment of the vasculoid is the respirocyte. Each respirocyte is constructed of 18 bil-
lion precisely arranged atoms and has an on-board computer, power plant, and
molecular pumps capable of transporting oxygen and CO2 molecules. Not only is
it capable of duplicating all thermal and biochemical transport functions of blood,
but it is also able to perform these functions hundreds of times more efficiently
than biological blood. In essence, the vasculoid is nothing short of a mechanically
engineered redesign of the human circulatory system. Despite the complexity of
the system (it comprises 500 trillion independently cooperating nanobots), it
weighs only 2 kg and is powered by nothing more than glucose and oxygen.
The key structural element of the vasculoid is a 2D vascular surface-conforming
array of 150 trillion square sapphiroids. The sapphiroids are self-contained super-
thin nanorobots that cover the entire surface of all blood vessels in the body to one
plate thickness. Of the 150 trillion plates, 24 trillion are molecule-conveying dock-
ing bays where tankers containing molecules for distribution can dock and load/
unload their cargo. Another feature of the array is the cellulock, of which there are
32.6 billion. At the cellulocks, boxcars carrying biological cells dock and load/
.. Fig. 9.11 Respirocyte in a blood vessel surrounded by red blood cells. The respirocyte is a nano-
bot capable of duplicating all thermal and biochemical transport functions of blood. © E-spaces and
Robert A. Freitas Jr., 7 3danimation.e-spaces.com and 7 www.rfreitas.com, and Philippe van

Nedervelde
unload their cargo. The remaining 125 trillion plates are reserved for special equip-
ment and other applications. All the plates have watertight mechanical interfaces
comprising metamorphic bumpers along the perimeter of each plate, which allow
the bumper to expand and contract in area. It’s a feature that permits the system to
flex in response to body movements.
A discussion of all the vasculoid components is beyond the scope of this chap-
ter, so we’ll focus on how the vasculoid could help astronauts to combat radiation
sickness. Remember, ionizing radiation causes atoms and molecules to become ion-
ized or excited. These excitations and ionizations can produce free radicals and
damage molecules that regulate vital cell processes. Although regular cells can
repair some cell damage, if the cells are too badly damaged, they can’t be replaced
quickly enough, and tissues fail to function. If this were to happen in a vasculoid-
installed astronaut, the vasculoid would detect the damage and deploy vasculo-
cytes. Vasculocytes are nanobots equipped with ambulatory appendages,
manipulator arms, repair tools, on-board computers, communications, and power
supplies. They patrol the vasculoid continuously, searching for maintenance and
repair tasks such as plugging internal leaks and cleaning spills. In the event of
Nanotech
281 9
radiation damage, these nanorobots would search out affected cells using molecu-
lar markers before destroying these cells [29, 30]. Sounds like a pretty neat repair
mechanism, but how would this device be installed?
Installation
Installation would be a complex process that would begin with exsanguination and
finish with a process known as vascular plating. After being sedated, the astro-
naut’s natural circulatory fluids would be removed and replaced with installation
fluids. This step would be followed by mechanical vascular plating, defluidization,
and finally activation of the vasculoid, rewarming the astronaut. From start to fin-
ish, the installation process would take about 6 hours. What follows is the step-by-
step process as it may occur in the near future.
Preparation
Preparation would begin 24 hours before installation, when the astronaut would
receive an injection of 70 billion vascular repair nanorobots that would clean out
any fatty streaks, plaque deposits, lesions, and vascular wall tumors. After com-
pleting their tasks, the repair devices would be exfused and the results downloaded
to a computer. This information would be used by the surgeon to prepare a map of
the astronaut’s vascular tree to improve efficiency during plating and plate initial-
ization. Once this step was complete, the astronaut would be sedated, cannulated,
and hooked up to a heart–lung machine. Heparin and streptokinase would be
injected to prevent clotting, after which the surgeon would administer various
agents to aid the installation process.
Exsanguination
After the astronaut had been anesthetized, their entire blood volume would be
replaced with a suspension of respirocytes, a mixture of electrolytes, and other
components normally found in blood substitutes. The respirocyte fleet would pro-
vide oxygen and carbon dioxide transport equivalent to the entire human red blood
cell (RBC) mass for 3 hours after the cessation of respiration. Once the blood vol-
ume had been exchanged, the astronaut’s core temperature would be reduced from
37 °C to just 7–17 °C, after which the astronaut would be ready for the intravenous
deployment of vasculoid components.
Intravenous Deployment
First, the respirocyte suspension would be replaced by a new suspension contain-
ing 1% fully charged respirocytes and 10% cargo-bearing vasculocytes, creating a
mixture whose viscosity and flow characteristics approximate to human blood.
Each vasculocyte would drift in the flow until it encountered a vessel wall, which
would activate it, causing it to release its cargo. Once its cargo plate was in place,
the vasculocyte would release back into the fluid, power down, and be exfused
from the body. After positioning and subsystem validation, each plate would inflate
fluid-tight metamorphic bumpers along its contact perimeter with its neighbors,
which would lock their bumpers firmly together with reversible fasteners embed-
ded in the bumpers. After about an hour, the structure of the vasculoid would be
almost complete, and all the major components would have been tested. The astro-
naut would now be ready for defluidization.
Defluidization
During defluidization, a monolayer of nanorobotic plates would form a chemically
inert, flexible sapphire liner on the vascular tree’s interior surface, and vasculo-
infusant fluid would be purged from the body by injecting 6 liters of oxygenated
acetone to rinse the vascular tree. Once the system had been rinsed, the process of
plate initialization would begin.
Plate Initialization
With 200 billion vasculocytes and 150 trillion plates to initialize, each vasculocyte
would need to contact and initialize 750 plates. This stage would be followed by the
installation of storage vesicles that contain reserves of mobile and cargo-carrying
nanodevices and other auxiliary nanodevices. The astronaut would be rewarmed,
the catheters would be removed, and the vascular breaches would be sealed. At this
stage, the vasculoid would be operational, and essential metabolic and immuno-
logical systems would have returned to normal.
To many people, the installation of such a device into an astronaut for the pur-
pose of protecting them from radiation damage may represent an extreme medical
9 intervention. However, current knowledge of nanomechanical systems suggests
such a device would not violate known physical, engineering, or medical principles
[29, 30]. If in fact the vasculoid becomes a reality, it may represent a significant
outpost not only in biological evolution but also in humankind’s quest to extend
the frontier beyond orbit.
Key Terms
55 BioFabrication Facility (BFF)
55 Central Monitoring Computer (CMC)
55 Centrifuge Accommodations Module (CAM)
55 Computer-Aided Design (CAD)
55 Hibernation Induction Trigger (HIT)
55 Hypersleep Recovery Procedures (HRP)
55 Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI)
55 Non-Atmospheric Universal Transport Intended for Lengthy United States
Exploration (NAUTILUS-X)
55 Red Blood Cell (RBC)
55 Total Parenteral Nutrition (TPN)
??Review Questions
1. Describe three challenges in developing artificial gravity.
2. What is meant by the term Coriolis force?
3. What is meant by HIT?
4. Describe four LSS advantages of having a hibernating crew.
References
283 9
5. How do animals hibernate?
6. List the six essential elements of bioprinting technology.
7. What is cell sheet technology?
8. Describe the process of installing a vasculoid.
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9
Suggested Reading
Seedhouse, E. (2011). Trailblazing medicine. New York: Springer-Praxis.
Seedhouse, E. (2012). Interplanetary outpost. Dordrecht: Springer-Praxis.
Seedhouse, E. (2014). Beyond human. Heidelberg: Springer Nature.
285
Supplementary
Information
Appendix Ia: Ionizing Radiation – 286
Appendix Ib: Radiological Protection – 287
Appendix II: Intracranial Hypertension – 288
Appendix III: Psychology of Survival – 291
Appendix IV: Environmental and Thermal
Operating System – 294
Appendix V: EVA – 301
Appendix VI: Hypersleep Recovery
Manual – 304
Appendix VII: Nanotechnology – 307
Index – 309

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-52859-1
286 Appendix Ia: Ionizing Radiation
Appendix Ia: Ionizing Radiation

287
Appendix Ib: Radiological Protection
Appendix Ib: Radiological Protection

288 Appendix II: Intracranial Hypertension
Appendix II: Intracranial Hypertension
Intracranial hypertension is a disorder, the primary feature of which is persistently

elevated intracranial pressure (ICP). The most pertinent neurologic sign of ICP is
papilledema, which is discussed in 7 Chapter 4. Papilledema is a red flag condition

because it may lead to progressive optic degeneration and ultimately blindness –

that’s a big problem if you’re en route to Mars or some other far-flung destination.
Typical signs and symptoms are usually related to increased ICP and papilledema
and may include the following:
55 Headaches, often varying in type, location, and frequency
55 Diplopia
55 Pulsatile tinnitus
55 Pain that radiates, usually in the arms
Symptoms of papilledema may include the following:

55 Transient visual obscurations, often uniformly orthostatic
55 Gradual loss of peripheral vision in one or both eyes
55 Blurring and distortion of central vision
55 Sudden visual loss
The most significant physical finding is bilateral disc edema secondary to the
increased ICP. In more severe cases, edema and diminished central vision may be
present. Visual function tests for diagnosing and monitoring patients with intra-
cranial hypertension are similar to those used to assess VIIP and include:
55 Ophthalmoscopy
55 Visual field assessment
55 Ocular motility examination
55 MRI of the brain
The goal of managing the condition is to preserve optic nerve function while man-
aging increased ICP, which is why common pharmacologic therapy may include
acetazolamide, which is the most effective agent for lowering ICP.
For your reference, . Table A.1 outlines the current NASA guidelines for

ensuring ophthalmic health in the astronaut corps and . Table A.2 provides a

summary of the vision changes observed in seven astronauts shortly after the VIIP
syndrome was reported.
For a more comprehensive assessment of this problem, the reader is referred
to the International Space University’s textbook on the subject: Microgravity and
Vision Impairments in Astronauts by Erik Seedhouse, published by Springer.
289
Appendix II: Intracranial Hypertension
.. Table A.1 Clinical practice guideline classifications of 36 long-duration US crewmembers
CPG class Definition # of affected

astronauts
Non-cases <0.50 diopter cycloplegic refractive change 2

No evidence of papilledema, nerve sheath distension,
choroidal folds, globe flattening, scotoma, or cotton wool
spots compared to baseline
1 Repeat OCT and visual acuity in 6 weeks 2
≥0.50 diopter cycloplegic refractive change and/or cotton
wool spot
No evidence of papilledema, nerve sheath distension,
choroidal folds, globe flattening, scotoma, or cotton wool
spots compared to baseline
CSF opening pressure (if measured) ≤25 cm H2O
2 Repeat OCT, cycloplegic refraction, fundus exam, and 8
threshold visual field every 4–6 weeks × 6 months, repeat
MRI in 6 months
≥0.50 diopter cycloplegic refractive change or cotton
wool spot
Choroidal folds and/or optic nerve sheath distension and/
or globe flattening and/or scotoma
No evidence of papilledema
CSF opening pressure (if measured) ≤25 cm H2O
3 Repeat OCT, cycloplegic refraction, fundus exam, and 1
threshold visual field every 4–6 weeks × 6 months, repeat
MRI in 6 months
wool spot
Optic nerve sheath distension and/or globe flattening and/
or choroidal folds and/or scotoma
Papilledema of Grades 0–2
CSF opening pressure ≤25 cm H2O
4 Institute treatment protocol as per CPG 4
wool spot
Optic nerve sheath distension and/or globe flattening and/
or choroidal folds and/or scotoma
Papilledema of Grade 2 or above
Presenting symptoms of new headache, pulsatile tinnitus,
and/or transient visual obscurations
CSF opening pressure >25 cm H2O
Unclassified Too little evidence at present for definitive classification 19
Early ISS flyers with no or limited testing
290 Appendix II: Intracranial Hypertension
.. Table A.2 Summary of ophthalmic changes from seven affected long-duration

crewmembers
Ophthalmic condition Total affected
Optic nerve sheath distension 6/7 (86%)

Nerve fiber layer thickening 6/7 (86%)
Optic disc edema 5/7 (71%)
Posterior globe flattening 5/7 (71%)
Hyperopic shift in one the eye or both eyes by ≥ +0.50 diopters 5/7 (71%)
Choroidal folds 4/7 (57%)
Elevated postflight CSF pressure (indicative of increased ICP) 4/7 (57%)
Cotton wool spots 3/7 (43%)
Decreased intraocular pressure (IOP) postflight 3/7 (43%)
Tortuous optic nerve 2/7 (29%)
291
Appendix III: Psychology of Survival
For those who are interested, here are some more stories of survival. Read these
and then ask yourself if expensive analogs are really needed to test human resil-
ience. The truth is, anyone with even a rudimentary knowledge or experience of
exploration knows that humans are a hardy bunch, as evidenced by these stories
and many more like them.
Douglas Mawson
Even today, with all the advanced technology available, a journey on foot across
Antarctica is one of the toughest tests imaginable (perhaps the Mars500 scientists
should have conducted their research there), but a hundred years ago, it was worse.
Much worse. Back then, polar explorers wore wool clothing that absorbed snow,
and high-energy food was an unappetizing mix of fats called pemmican. But worst
of all was the brutally cold environment. Apsley Cherry-Garrard, who sailed with
Captain Scott’s doomed South Pole expedition, reported that his teeth, after having
been exposed to −60 °C, had “split to pieces.” Cherry-Garrard wrote an account
of his adventures in an aptly titled book The Worst Journey in the World. But even
Cherry-Garrard’s trek, made in total darkness in the depths of the Southern win-
ter, wasn’t as horrific as the harrowing march faced by Australian explorer Douglas
Mawson. Mawson’s journey has gone down in the annals of polar exploration as
probably the most terrible ever undertaken in Antarctica.
In 1912, Mawson was 30 years old and acclaimed as one of the best geologists
of his generation. He had declined the chance to join Scott’s South Pole expedition
so he could lead the Australasian Antarctic Expedition, the purpose of which was
to explore and map some of the more remote areas of the Antarctic. An Antarctic
veteran and gifted organizer, Mawson was as tough as they came, which, as events
transpired, was a good thing. Mawson’s team anchored in Commonwealth Bay in
January 1912. Over the next few months, wind speeds averaged 80 kilometers per
hour and sometimes exceeded 320 kmh! Blizzards were incessant and unrelenting.
Mawson split his expedition into four groups, one to man base camp and three to
conduct scientific work. He nominated himself to lead the Far Eastern Shore Party,
a three-man team that was tasked with surveying glaciers hundreds of kilometers
from base. It was a risky endeavor, because Mawson and his men would have the
farthest to travel and the heaviest loads to carry.
Mawson selected Lieutenant Belgrave Ninnis, a British army officer, and
Ninnis’s friend Xavier Mertz, a Swiss lawyer, to join him. The explorers took three
sledges, pulled by 16 huskies and loaded with 790 kilograms of food, survival gear,
and scientific instruments. To begin with, progress was good, with Mawson’s party
traveling 480 kilometers in just 5 weeks. But after a series of near disasters, the men
began to feel their luck was changing. Ninnis almost plunged into concealed cracks
in the ice and Mawson suffered from a split lip that sent blinding pain shooting
across the left side of his face. Worse was to come.
292 Appendix III: Psychology of Survival
At noon on 14 December 1912, Mawson stopped to shoot the sun and deter-
mine their position. He was standing on the runners of his sledge, completing
his calculations, when he became aware that Mertz, who was skiing ahead of the
sledges, had raised one ski pole in the air to signal a crevasse. Mawson called to
warn to Ninnis before returning to his work. A few minutes later, he noticed Mertz
had stopped again and was looking back in alarm. Ninnis and his sledge and dogs
had vanished. Mawson and Mertz hurried back to where they had crossed the
crevasse and discovered a yawning chasm. Below, the walls plunged into darkness.
Mawson called Ninnis’s name for 5 hours, but there was no response. With prac-
tically all their food gone, all that remained was their sleeping bags and enough
food to last a week and a half. They began their return to base, killing and eating
the remaining dogs as they went, each night’s rations less palatable than the last.
Inevitably, the two men’s physical condition deteriorated rapidly:
»» Starvation, combined with superficial frostbite, alternating with the damp condi-
tions in the sleeping-bags, had by this time resulted in a wholesale peeling of the skin
all over our bodies; in its place only a very poor unnourished substitute appeared
which readily rubbed raw in many places. As a result of this, the chafing of the
march had already developed large raw patches in just those places where they were
most troublesome. As we never took off our clothes, the peelings of hair and skin
from our bodies worked down into our under-trousers and socks, and regular clear-
ances were made from the latter.
Douglas Mawson (excerpt from Alone on the Ice by David Roberts).
160 kilometers from base, Mertz died. In poor physical condition, Mawson was
only able to cover 8 kilometers per day, a distance that was reduced to just four by
the end of January, since his energy was sapped by the need to dress and redress
his many injuries. For days at a time, he was unable to make any progress because
of vicious blizzards. On February 8, he found his way to base, just in time to see
the expedition’s ship, Aurora, leaving for Australia! Fortunately, a shore party had
been left to wait for him, but it was too late for the ship to turn, and Mawson found
himself forced to spend a second winter in Antarctica.
The Pomori
The annals of polar exploration are rich with resilient and resourceful individu-
als. Take the gripping tale of four Pomori hunters, who in 1743 found themselves
marooned on Edgeøya Island of the Svalbard Archipelago. For 6 years, this group
of hardy individuals survived everything the Arctic could throw at them: storms,
chilling cold, extraordinary deprivation, confinement, and polar bears.
Their story started when the four sailed as part of a group of 14 hunters from
the village of Mezen on the White Sea coast. They planned to hunt walrus in the
Svalbard Archipelago. After 8 days with favorable weather, they were blown off
course toward Edgeøya Island, a place where ships rarely ventured. Before long,
their vessel was icebound. The situation deteriorated over the next few days, as it
293
seemed likely their vessel would be crushed. It was decided that a four-man party
would go to the island to investigate what shelter there was, since it was known that
sailors had spent the winter there several years previously in a hut. The four knew
they wouldn’t be gone long, and they knew the hunting would be excellent, so they
carried only the barest essentials.
On reaching the island, the group found the hut, where they spent the night
while a storm blew outside. The next day, they made their way back to their ship to
share the news with their fellow hunters. But on reaching the shore, they discovered
that part of the ice pack had gone and, with it the ship, presumably carried away by
the storm the previous night. The four returned to the hut and pondered the likeli-
hood they were now trapped on the island. Permanently. They kept a watch for
their ship, but after a few days, they came to the conclusion that it had foundered
(the ship never returned to port, so the assumption was probably correct).
The four faced a bleak existence stuck on an island in the middle of a polar bear
breeding ground with all their ammunition expended. Worse, the island was devoid of
trees and shrubbery, which meant they had nothing to burn and couldn’t cook. But
they resolved to try to survive. After all, what else could they do? They scoured the
island and found driftwood and also a plank with a long iron hook attached and some
embedded nails. It wasn’t much, but for these guys, it was a lifeline. Using a primitive
forge, they fashioned their newfound hardware into a sharp point that they attached to
a driftwood pole. The Pomori now possessed a weapon and set out to hunt polar bears.
After killing and eating their first bear, they cut the skin for clothing and used the
tendons to create a string for a bow. The nails were used to manufacture rudimen-
tary arrows. With their bow and arrows, the Pomori killed more than 250 reindeer,
along with an assortment of blue and white foxes. As winter closed in, fuel economy
became vital, but they couldn’t allow the fire they had set to go out. Fortunately,
there was no limit to the Pomori’s ingenuity. They gathered slimy loam they had
found during their reconnaissance of the island and fashioned a lamp. Reindeer fat
was placed into the lamp and became their source of warmth during the long win-
ter. Food continued to be a challenge. The only vegetation on the island was moss
and lichen, so the men subsisted on reindeer, fox, and bear. Water was drawn from
springs and made by melting ice. To prevent scurvy, the men drank reindeer blood
and ate the little grass that grew on the island. One of the men wasn’t too taken with
the idea of drinking reindeer blood and became bedridden, eventually dying.
How did they deal with the long years of confinement and paralyzing, mind-
numbing monotony? How did they cope with the chilling cold and the appalling
condition of the smoke-filled hut? Who knows, but the experience of these cast-
aways serves as an important reference point for those who are confined in a space-
ship for months on end.
The Pomori were eventually rescued when, on 15 August 1749, the hunters
caught sight of a Russian trading vessel on its way to Novaya Zemlya. The ship had
been blown off course and had inadvertently found itself near Edgeøya. Six weeks
later, the three men were finally returned home. What these hunters achieved serves
as a lesson to all explorers about faith, perseverance, ingenuity, and resourceful-
ness. This is why many question the utility of simulating space missions, such as the
Mars500 boondoggle, which placed six humans in a tin can for 520 days.
294 Appendix IV: Environmental and Thermal Operating System
ppendix IV: Environmental and Thermal

A
Operating System
295
Appendix IV: Environmental and Thermal Operating System
296
297
298
299
300
301
Appendix V: EVA
Appendix V: EVA
302
Appendix V: EVA
303
Appendix V: EVA
304 Appendix VI: Hypersleep Recovery Manual
Appendix VI: Hypersleep Recovery Manual
Notes for crew medical officer: the Hypersleep Recovery Scale (HRS) shall be
administered every 6 hours to each crewmember for the first 24 hours following
exit from hypersleep. A crewmember shall be considered functional when scoring
23 following the fourth administration of the scale.
For administration guidelines, refer to JFK Coma Recovery Scale Administration
and Scoring Guidelines (Johnson Rehabilitation Institute, 2004).
Hypersleep Recovery Scale1
Crewmember name: Date of hypersleep entry:

Date of hypersleep exit: Time of HRS administration:
Auditory Function Scale Exit + Exit + Exit + Exit +
6 hrs 12 hours 18 hours 24 hours
4 – Consistent movement to
command
3 – Reproducible movement to
command
2 – Localization to sound
1 – Auditory startle
0 – None
Visual Function Scale Exit + Exit + Exit + Exit +
5 – Object recognition
4 – Object localization:
reaching
3 – Visual pursuit
2 – Fixation
1 – Visual startle
0 – None
Motor Function Scale Exit + Exit + Exit + Exit +
6 – Functional object use
5 – Automatic motor response
4 – Object manipulation
305
Appendix VI: Hypersleep Recovery Manual
3 – Localization to noxious

stimulation
2 – Flexion withdrawal
1 – Abnormal posturing
0 – None
Oromotor/Verbal Function Exit + Exit + Exit + Exit +
Scale 6 hrs 12 hours 18 hours 24 hours
3 – Intelligible verbalization
2 – Vocalization/oral movement
1 – Oral reflexive movement
0 – None
Communication Scale Exit + Exit + Exit + Exit +
2 – Functional: accurate
1 – Nonfunctional: intentional
0 – None
Arousal Scale Exit + Exit + Exit + Exit +
3 – Attention
2 – Eye opening without
stimulation
1 – Eye opening with
stimulation
0 – Unarousable
Total score
1Adapted from JFK Coma Recovery Scale
Interventions
Crewmembers who do not recover consciousness from hypersleep within 24 hours

may enter a vegetative state (VS). The VS may be transitional en route to recovery
or may progress to a long-standing and potentially irreversible condition – func-
tional hypersleep disconnection syndrome (FHDS). FHDS is a condition from
which the crewmember may not recover.
In the event that a crewmember is diagnosed as being in a VS, the CMO shall
perform standard metabolic assessment of the brain using guidelines in the CMO
handbook. If determination of metabolic activity cannot be made, the crewmem-
ber shall be re-scanned using quantified fluorodeoxyglucose in accordance with
standard procedure. In the event that no metabolic function is determined, the
306 Appendix VI: Hypersleep Recovery Manual
crewmember may be diagnosed with FHDS. FHDS shall be scaled as mild, moder-

ate, or severe, based on response to actions listed in the Hypersleep Disconnection
Scale.
Hypersleep Disconnection Scale
Eye opening Score Verbal Score Motor Score
None 1 None 1 None 1

To pain 2 Sounds 2 Extension 2
To command 3 Words 3 Flexion 3
Spontaneously 4 Disoriented 4 Withdraws from pain 4
Oriented 5 Localizes to pain 5
Localizes to pain and 6
follows commands
FHDS rating: < 8, severe FHDS; 9–13, moderate FHDS; > 13, mild FHDS
The recovery of a crewmember diagnosed with FHDS will be determined by pre-

vious hypersleep disorders, age, and severity of the syndrome. Recovery stages of
FHDS are coma, coming out of coma, amnesia, and memory recovery. Normally,
full medication-assisted recovery takes 5 days.
Crewmembers recovering from FHDS may enter a state called post-traumatic
amnesia (PTA). PTA is characterized by serious memory problems, confusion, and
disorientation. Based on Earth-based hypersleep increments, those suffering from
PTA normally recover within 4 days.
If recovery has not occurred after 8 days, the crewmember is deemed to have
entered a permanent vegetative state (PVS) beyond which recovery is unlikely. In
this event, the CMO shall consult with Mission Control to discuss the most appro-
priate course of action based on life support consumables.
307
Appendix VII: Nanotechnology

308
309 A–B
Index
–– constant wear garment 134
A –– integrated thermal micrometeoroid
garment 134
Acute radiation syndrome –– liquid cooling garment 121, 123
–– countermeasures –– lunar boots 134
–– Amifostine 230 –– portable life support system 123, 124, 126,
–– captopril 231 134–141, 149
–– DBIBB 231 –– pressure garment assembly 123, 124,
–– granulocyte colony stimulating 126–132, 139
factor 232–233 –– pressure gloves 132–134
–– nicotinamide mononucleotide 232 –– pressure helmet assembly 132
–– superoxide dismutase 230 –– torso-limb suit assembly 126, 132
–– gastrointestinal syndrome 230 –– life support issues, dust 126
–– hemapoietic syndrome 230–232 –– lunar module ECS
–– total body irradiation 230 –– atmosphere revitalization 123
Advanced closed loop system, carbon dioxide –– heat transport 123, 124
reprocessing subsystem 163 –– oxygen supply and cabin pressure
Advanced Plant Growth Habitat control 123–124
(APH) 248–249, 254 –– water management 124
Advanced Resistive Exercise Device (ARED) 31, Armstrong Line 17, 18, 22
33, 201, 206 Artificial gravity
Air purification system –– Coriolis force 261, 263, 265
–– carbon dioxide absorbent canisters 170 –– G load 265
–– harmful contaminants control filter 170, 171 As High as Relatively Safe (AHARS) 216
–– trace contaminants control unit 171 As Low as Reasonably Achievable
–– Vozdukh carbon dioxide removal system 170 (ALARA) 216–217
Air revitalization AstroRad 228
–– activated charcoal 90, 171, 176 Atmosphere
–– carbon dioxide concentration 40, 90, –– autonomous control 90
94, 176 –– maintaining 89, 90
–– four-bed molecular sieve 90, 91, 158 –– monitoring 89, 90
–– generating oxygen 90, 154, 157, 159, 163 –– partial pressure 89
–– lithium hydroxide 90, 91 –– regulating 89
–– water vapor electrolysis 90 –– storing oxygen 89
Airlock 16, 19, 146–147, 192 Atrophy 34–36, 115, 204, 208, 259, 265, 267, 270
–– bends treatment adapter 193
Alzheimerʼs disease
–– cognition 67 B
–– cognitive dysfunction 67
Biomes 6, 22
–– dementia 68
Bioprinting
–– neurogenesis 67
–– biofabrication 272–276
Antioxidants 68, 230–232, 237, 249
–– bioink 273
Apollo Program
–– bioprinters 272, 273, 275
–– command module ECS
–– cell sheet technology 275–276
–– coolant subsystem 120, 128, 129
–– electrospinning 276
–– oxygen subsystem 117–119, 127, 135, 137
–– hydrogel 273
–– pressure suit circuit 117, 119, 120, 127
–– pre-processing 259, 273
–– waste management 116, 120–121, 130
–– processing 259, 267, 273
–– water subsystem 119, 129, 130
–– post-processing 259, 275
–– extravehicular mobility unit
–– solid scaffold-based biofabrication 275
–– communications carrier 134
310
Index
Biosphere 5–9 –– ischemia 194
Bone loss 29–31, 48, 69, 70, 115, 208, 209 –– thrombosis 194
Bone mass 14, 29, 31, 88, 204 Equivalent dose 12
European Space Agency (ESA) 35, 37, 45, 156,
164, 193, 205, 206, 208, 213, 220, 221, 234,
C 250, 251, 254, 264, 268
Cabin ventilation 90 Exosphere 5
Calcium 9, 29, 30, 36, 47, 194, 218, 237, 238 External fixation 31, 32
Carbohydrate 7, 9, 87, 95 Extravehicular activity 83, 114, 140, 235
Carbon cycle 9, 22 Extravehicular mobility unit
Carbon dioxide 7, 9, 21, 40, 45, 48, 51, 83, –– display and control module 184
89–92, 105, 107, 110, 113, 116, 119, 125, 135, –– donning 183, 187–188
140–142, 146, 157, 158, 163–165, 168–171, –– hard upper torso 184–187
176, 177, 183, 185–188, 244, 247, 250, 253, –– helmet 184–188
254, 281 –– liquid cooling ventilation garment 186, 187
Carbon dioxide reduction assembly 157 –– oxygen, contaminant control
–– Sabatier reaction 158, 159, 163, 165, 178 cartridge 184–186
Carbon dioxide removal assembly (CDRA) 91, –– portable life support system, sensors 187
153, 154, 157, 158 –– prebreathe
–– desiccant beds 158 –– decompression sickness, symptoms 189
–– four-bed molecular sieve 91 –– denitrogenation 188, 189
–– molecular sieve 158 –– history 188, 189
Central nervous system 63, 65–67, 194, –– nitrogen 188
212, 213 –– protocols, camp-out procedure 190, 192
–– damage 194 –– protocols, cycle ergometer with vibration
Centrifuge accommodations module isolation and stabilization 192
(CAM) 260, 262 –– protocols, in-suit light exercise 188,
Charged particle directional spectrometer 190–192
(CPDS) 219 –– venous gas emboli 188
Circumnutation 92 Extremophiles 6
Combined Operational Load-bearing Resistance
Treadmill (COLBERT) 201, 205, 207
Crew Passive Dosimeters (CPDs) 218
F
Fail-operational 81
Fail-safe 81
D Fast twitch 32
DNA Fluid shift
–– DNA damage response 211 –– baroreceptors 44, 45
–– double-strand breaks 69, 211, 239 –– diuresis 44, 45
–– homology-directed repair 211 –– orthostatic intolerance 45, 109
–– hydroxyl radical 211 Flywheel Exercise Device (FWED) 201, 205
–– non-homologous end joining 211 Food
Dosimeters –– intake 9, 45, 47, 48
–– ALTEA 221 –– iron 47, 48
–– Alteino 221 –– oxidative damage 48, 68
–– DosTel 221 –– sodium 48
–– Liulin 221 –– vitamin D 48, 88, 95, 237
–– TRITEL 221
G
E Galactic cosmic radiation
Ebullism –– alpha particles 59
–– anoxia 194 –– neutron spectroscopy 59–60
–– dextran 194 –– protons 59
Index
311 B–J
Gas analysis system In-situ resource utilization (ISRU) 81, 84
–– habitable compartments pressure integrity Interim Resistive Exercise Device (iRED) 205,
monitoring system 171 206, 208
–– interface pressure integrity monitors 171 International Commission on Radiological
Gemini program, life support system Protection (ICRP) 213
–– cryogenic liquids 114 International space station
–– EVA, (White, Ed) 116 –– advanced closed loop system
–– physiological measures 114 –– carbon dioxide concentration
–– primary oxygen subsystem 110–112 subsystem 163
–– temperature control subsystem 112 –– carbon dioxide reprocessing subsystem 163
–– water management subsystem 112 –– oxygen generation subsystem 163, 165
Gravity 7, 13, 14, 20, 21, 31, 59, 69, 81, 82, 85, –– air revitalization system
92, 93, 109, 128, 130, 176, 201, 235, 246, 247, –– advanced closed loop system 163–167
259–266, 271 –– carbon dioxide reduction
Grays 12, 213, 230 assembly 157–159
–– oxygen generation assembly 157, 159–161
–– oxygen recharge compressor assembly 161
H –– trace contaminant control system 157, 161
Hibernation –– atmosphere control system 157
–– animal 259, 266–268 –– manual pressure equalization valve 157
–– entry 268 –– fire detection and suppression system
–– exit 267–271 –– fire water mist 164, 165
–– hibernaculum 267, 271 –– portable breathing apparatus 164
–– hibernation induction trigger 267, 268, 271 –– portable fire extinguisher 164, 165
–– life support 267, 271 –– Russian orbital segment 155, 163, 167–175
Humidity –– temperature, humidity control system, HEPA
–– controlling 78, 84, 90, 140, 146, 154, 163, filters 163
169, 172, 183, 267 –– United States orbital segment 153–163, 167
–– maintaining 84, 89, 90, 105, 114, 140 –– vacuum system
–– monitoring 89, 90 –– international standard Payload Racks 166
Hydrosphere 5, 6, 22 –– nitrogen line shut-off valves 166
Hyperoxia 105 –– vacuum dump devices 167
Hypertrophy 34 –– venting dump devices 167
Hypoxia 17, 105, 194, 211 –– venting manual return valves 167
–– waste line shut-off valves 167
–– water recovery management system
I –– urine processing assembly 154, 165, 166
–– vapor compression distillation 165
Immune system –– water processing assembly 165
–– bacteria 58 Intracranial pressure
–– exercise 236, 238 –– choroidal folds 39–42
–– health stabilization program 236 –– fluid shift 14, 38, 39, 41, 43, 44
–– pharmacological countermeasures 237–238 –– headache 14, 40, 41
–– response 58, 237, 238 –– hemorrhage 42
–– stress 58, 236, 237 –– intraocular pressure 43
–– supplements 237 –– lamina cribosa sclera 43
–– vaccination 236, 238–239 –– optic nerve sheath 38, 40, 41
Inflight –– optical diameter 42
–– blood pressure 108
–– bodyweight 110
–– fluid intake 110 J
–– orthostatic intolerance 109
–– pulse pressure 109 Japanese Experimental Module (JEM) 154, 166,
167, 205, 220
312
Index
L N
Lithium hydroxide 90, 91, 113, 116, 119, 125, Nanotechnology 259, 276, 278
142, 148, 162, 170, 183, 185–187 National Council on Radiation Protection
Lithosphere 5, 6 (NCRP) 211, 217
Low Earth orbit (LEO) 14, 16, 31, 60, 61, 66, 69, Neurovestibular system 35, 36, 263
70, 83, 104, 201, 211–213, 220, 222–224, 228, Non-atmospheric Universal Transport Intended
234, 246 for Lengthy United States Exploration
(NAUTILUS-X) 260, 261
Nutrient cycle 7
M
Macronutrients 7
Mars 19, 21, 31, 32, 35, 38, 48, 52, 53, 62, 63, 66,
O
68–70, 78, 81, 83, 85, 94, 96, 153, 154, 160, Osteitis 70
194, 201, 202, 209, 213–216, 222–224, 232, Osteoblasts 29, 69
235, 236, 245, 246, 259, 265, 273, 274, 276, Osteoclasts 29, 69
288 Osteoradionecrosis 69, 70
Matroshka 218, 220–222 Otolith organs 35
Medical Operations Requirements Document –– linear acceleration 35
(MORD) 64, 217 Oxygen cycle 7
Mercury Program Oxygen generating system (OGS) 91
–– life support sub-systems
–– bioinstrumentation 108
–– cabin control system 106 P
–– electrocardiogram 108 Passive Dosimeter for Life science Experiments
–– instrumentation 107 in Space (PADLES) 220, 239
–– physiological measurements, inflight 108 Passive Radiation Dosimeters (PRDs) 218
–– postflight evaluation 108 Permissible exposure levels (PELs) 211, 239
–– system operations 107 Phosphorus cycle 9, 22
–– thermistor 108 Plants
–– requirements 104 –– chlorophyll 244
–– suit, bioconnector 107 –– dietary fatigue 248
Mesosphere 4 –– germination
Metabolic rate 85, 86, 88, 267, 270 –– hypocotyle 245
Microcosms 96 –– radicle 245
Micro-ecological Life Support System –– gravitropism 246
Alternative (MELiSSA) –– phototropism 246
–– basic research and development 252–253 –– plant pillows 246–248
–– BIORAT 253 –– roots
–– bioreactor 252 –– conduits 245
–– communication and education 252, –– tubules 245
254–255 –– stems 244–246
–– ground and space demonstration 252, 253 Primary oxygen subsystem
–– higher plant compartment 252 –– cabin pressure relief valve 110
–– preliminary flight experiments 252, 253 –– Egress Oxygen Subsystem 111
–– technology transfer 252, 254 –– oxygen capacity 110
Microgravity 13, 14, 28, 29, 31, 35, 36, 38, 43–45, Protein 9, 47, 87, 88, 95, 211, 232
70, 81, 88, 96, 105, 114, 145, 173, 176, 205, Psychology
236, 249, 253 –– biometric monitoring 53
Micrometeoroid 14, 132, 185 –– confinement 53, 54, 58, 235
Micronutrients 7 –– Crew Interactive Mobile companion
Muscle 14, 31, 32, 34–36, 47, 88, 189, 201, 204, (CIMON) 234
207, 208, 213, 238, 259, 265, 267, 270, –– endurance 49
271, 278 –– Fram 53, 54
Index
313 L–T
–– Nansen, Fridtjof 53, 55 Slow twitch 32
–– right stuff 53, 235 Solar particle events
–– salutogenesis 56–58 –– magnetic storms 60
–– Shackleton, Ernest 50 –– solar minimum 60
–– WINSCAT 234 Solid polymer water electrolysis 90
–– wrong stuff 51–53 South Atlantic Anomaly (SAA) 61
Space motion sickness 35, 36
–– vomiting 35
R Space shuttle
–– active thermal and control system
Radiation –– ammonia boilers 143, 144
–– acute effects 64 –– Freon-21 143, 144
–– central nervous system effects 65–67 –– Advanced Crew Escape System 146
–– chronic effects 64 –– air revitalization system 140–142
–– direct damage 64 –– Airlock Support System 146
–– frontal cortex 67 –– atmosphere revitalization pressure control
–– indirect damage 64 system 142–143
–– Mars 21, 31, 32, 35, 38, 48, 52, 53, 62, 63, 66, –– Extravehicular Activity Mobility
68–70, 78, 81, 83, 85, 94, 96 Units 146–149
–– microlesions 65 –– supply and waste water system
–– oxidative damage 68, 237 –– hydrogen separators 144
Radiation Area Monitors (RAMs) 218 –– nitrogen 145
Radiation assessment detector (RAD) 66, 69 –– Waste Collection System 144–146
Relative biological effectiveness (RBE) 11, 12, –– water coolant loop system 142
22, 64, 65, 201, 213, 225–227 Stratosphere 4
Risk of exposure induced death (REID) 212 Submarine life support systems 176
Russian orbital segment
–– atmosphere control system
–– air purification system 169–171 T
–– Elektron 169, 170
Temperature
–– gas analysis system 169, 171
–– controlling 89
–– fire detection and suppression
–– maintaining 89
–– Class 1 alarm 174
–– monitoring 89, 270–271
–– Class 2 alarm 174
Temperature control subsystem
–– food supply facilities, refrigerator 173
–– cabin temperature 112
–– sanitation and hygiene compartment 173–174
–– coolant 112
–– water supply system 172
–– equipment temperature 112
–– atmospheric condensate water regeneration
–– space radiator 112
system 172
–– suit loop 113
–– suit temperature 112
Thermoluminescent detectors (TLDs) 218,
S 221, 239
Sabatier process 91 Thermosphere 5
Semicircular canals 263 Thirsty Walls 175–178
–– angular acceleration 35, 263 Tissue Equivalent Proportional Counter
Shielding (TEPC) 218–220, 226, 239
–– boron nitride nanotubes 227 Trace contaminant control system
–– electrical 225 –– catalytic oxidizer assembly 161
–– magnetic 224–225 –– charcoal bed assembly 161
–– polyethylene 227–228 –– lithium hydroxide 162
–– RXF1 227 –– volatile organic compounds 162
–– spallation 226, 227 Treadmill 31, 35, 205, 206
–– water 224 Treadmill with Vibration Isolation and
Sievert (Sv) 12, 62, 69, 213, 215, 230 Stabilization (TVIS) 206
Skylab 90, 203–205 Troposphere 4, 6
Index
314
V –– diplopia 40
–– magnetic resonance venogram 40
Vacuum 14, 16, 20, 21, 126, 130, 154, 166, 167, –– nerve fiber layer 40
170, 171, 188, 192, 194 –– optic nerve sheath 42
Van Allen Belts 12, 61, 227 –– optical coherence tomography 40
Vasculoid 278–282 –– posterior globe 42
–– defluidization 281, 282
–– installation 281, 282
–– respirocytes 281 W
–– vascular plating 281
Water management 123
–– vasculocyte 281, 282
Water management subsystem
Veggie 93, 244, 246–250, 254
–– drinking nozzle 112
Vision impairment
–– heat exchanger reservoir 112
–– cerebrospinal fluid 41
–– urine receptacle 112
–– cotton wool spots 38, 39

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Erik Seedhouse

Life Support Systems

ISBN 978-3-030-52858-4 ISBN 978-3-030-52859-1 (eBook)

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020

― Ernest Shackleton, South

1 Life Support System Basics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

2 Space Physiology and Psychology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25

3 Open-Loop Vs. Closed-Loop Life Support Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75

4 Evolution and Development of Life Support Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101

Suit Loop . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113

5 International Space Station Life Support System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151

6 Extravehicular Activity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181

8 Growing Food in Space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243

9 Future Life Support Concepts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257

summit of Kilimanjaro, Aconcagua, Elbrus, Rainier, Island Peak, and

Life Support System

The Lithosphere, Hydrosphere,

Matter Cycling in the Biosphere – 7

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020

.. Fig. 1.2 The divisions of the

.. Fig. 1.3 The Northern lights. Credit: NASA

The Lithosphere, Hydrosphere, and Biosphere

.. Fig. 1.4 The water cycle. Credit: NASA

The Oxygen Cycle

Regardless of which nutrient element is required, these elements continuously

and then converted into carbohydrates during photosynthesis, with oxygen

.. Fig. 1.5 The oxygen cycle. Credit: NASA

The Nitrogen Cycle

.. Fig. 1.6 The nitrogen cycle. Credit: NASA

The Phosphorus Cycle

.. Fig. 1.7 X-15. Credit: USAF

.. Fig. 1.9 The origins of

whole-body dose to be calculated (see Appendices Ia and Ib).

.. Table 1.1 Tissue weighting factors for organs

Organs Tissue weighting factor

Whenever we see images of astronauts floating (. Fig. 1.10) around the ISS, we

.. Fig. 1.10 ISS crewmembers floating in the Unity module. Credit: NASA

.. Fig. 1.11 Space debris is a serious and evolving hazard. Credit: NASA

.. Fig. 1.12 Impact crater

Space is often portrayed by those in Hollywood as a cold and inhospitable place at

.. Fig. 1.13 Harry Arm-

.. Fig. 1.14 Cosmonauts Dobrovolski, Patsayev, and Volkov. Credit: Roscosmos

Now that we have discussed a few characteristics of our planetary environment

.. Fig. 1.15 A future lunar base. Credit: NASA

support engineers. An even bigger headache is the lunar regolith, a by-product of

.. Table 1.2 Select properties of the Moon (with Earth as comparison)

Mean radius 1,737 km 6,378 km

.. Table 1.3 Select properties of Mars

Planetary data for Mars

Mean distance from Sun 227,943,824 km (1.5 AU)

Radiation is still a problem, as is dust, which is comprised of oxidized iron

Credit: Jim Wilkie

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020

Bone Loss in Spaceflight

The result of this process is a healthy skeleton that is fracture-resistant. But in

.. Fig. 2.2 Osteoporosis. Credit: NASA

Countermeasures to Bone Loss

.. Fig. 2.6 Skeletal muscle structure. Credit: National Cancer Institute

Muscle Atrophy in Space

1 Life Support System Basics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

2 Space Physiology and Psychology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25

3 Open-Loop Vs. Closed-Loop Life Support Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75

4 Evolution and Development of Life Support Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101

5 International Space Station Life Support System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151

6 Extravehicular Activity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181

8 Growing Food in Space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243

9 Future Life Support Concepts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257

The Lithosphere, Hydrosphere, and Biosphere

The Oxygen Cycle

The Nitrogen Cycle

The Phosphorus Cycle

Bone Loss in Spaceflight

Countermeasures to Bone Loss

Muscle Atrophy in Space

Space Motion Sickness

Optic Nerve Sheath Diameter

Posterior Globe Flattening

Space Food System

Astronauts with the Wrong Stuff

youtube.com/watch?v=CHMIfOecrlo). In fact, the current trend in memoirs writ-

Galactic Cosmic Rays

Measuring Galactic Cosmic Rays

Solar Particle Events

Measuring Solar Particle Radiation

Radiation Dose on Board the International Space Station

Biomedical Consequences of Exposure to Space Radiation

Central Nervous System Effects

Behavioral Studies of CNS Risks