It was a relief and a moment of pride when Boeing’s Starliner finally lifted off from Cape Canaveral with NASA astronauts Butch Wilmore and Sunita Williams strapped in. The flight had been in the works for years, touted as a simple eight-day mission to the International Space Station (ISS) to demonstrate that Starliner had a place to be with SpaceX’s Crew Dragon as a leading crew transport option. But in the way that things tend to go with space exploration, what was going to be simple became a tale of mistakes, troubleshooting, and difficult choices.
The first couple of hours were uneventful enough. After two previous uncrewed test flights, Starliner finally carried human passengers. Two veteran Navy test pilots, Wilmore and Williams, knew better than anybody that space never actually goes according to plan. They were reminded of it soon enough. On its trip to the ISS, engineers found small helium leaks and that five of Starliner’s reaction control thrusters were not working properly. Those thrusters are key to getting there and back home in one piece. Suddenly, a routine procedure was in jeopardy.
NASA and Boeing didn’t panic, but acted fast. White Sands Test Facility teams worked to replicate the problem, examining data and running diagnostics. The theory that panned out with experts was that excessive heat caused Teflon seals in the thrusters to balloon, obstructing fuel flow. Some of the thrusters were taken back into service later, but confidence in the system had already vanished. As head of NASA’s Commercial Crew Program, Steve Stich put it, the variables were mounting and everyone was nervous about attempting a premature return.
It was no longer a spaceflight schedule but close to a field order. Do you go forward with incomplete data? Do you stay put? Do you pull back and regroup? NASA had some sessions to discuss the options. One option was to have Wilmore and Williams ride home on Starliner. The other was to keep them on the ISS for a long-duration stay, with a potential return trip home on SpaceX’s Crew Dragon. That would be a much longer mission—maybe months—but safer with greater trust.
NASA Administrator Bill Nelson captured the attitude: “Spaceflight is risky, even when all seems well.”. Test flights, as unconventional and risky as they were, were not about to be exempted from that philosophy. The final decision proved it. Starstellar would come back from space with no cargo. The astronauts would stay on the ISS. It was not a technical decision; it was a reflection of the fact that NASA prioritized its commitment to safety over all else. Engineers, controllers, safety experts, and even the astronauts were involved in making the decision, and the universal agreement of all of them was unmistakable—no shortcuts.
Once the route was chosen, Starliner was ready for an uncrewed descent. Meanwhile, Wilmore and Williams were transitioning to longer-duration duties with Expedition 71/72. What began as an eight-day demonstration was essentially a full-duration station mission. They adapted easily, adding to science research, station upkeep, and even distant Starliner system inspections. Routine supply launches and their own perseverance guided the two astronauts into the groove of long-duration spaceflight.
On Earth’s surface, the modifications were done. The subsequent Crew Dragon flight was reconfigured to accommodate the duo’s eventual return. Starliner landed safely in the desert and was towed back to Kennedy Space Center for a complete disassembly and examination. Certification of the capsule for regular astronaut flights was deferred, and the subsequent crewed flight was reverted to SpaceX.
Boeing, on its part, began to make some changes of its own. Old-timer Mark Nappi stepped down, and John Mulholland, who had a lot of experience on the Starliner program, came back to take charge of the Commercial Crew program. The mission was simple: get back the trust, correct the technical issues, and get Starliner in the competition again.
The mission had understandably come under political scrutiny. Sensational pictures of “abandoned” or “stranded” astronauts were painted by the critics, but NASA fought back. Back-up arrangements had always been in the wings, and Crew Dragon had always been the back-up. The astronauts had never, in fact, been in danger—the tale had been one of appearance rather than reality.
But amidst outrage, the higher truth came. Redundancy in human spaceflight is not a luxury—but a necessity. NASA’s decades-old decision to certify both SpaceX and Boeing was based on this same notion. Two suppliers were an assurance of fortitude. When one had issues, the other could carry on business as usual. That foresight paid dividends in this moment.
For the future on the horizon, the outlook for SStarliners is rosy, if guarded. More test flights and fix-ups are on the agenda, another uncrewed flight first, before crew members get on board again. It wasn’t the smooth ride everyone had hoped for, but in space, flexibility is a whole lot more valuable than perfection. Missions shift, things go wrong, and winning is in the hands of teams to act fast.
Ultimately, this mission was more than a test flight. It was a ground test of stress engineering, of making decisions based on a lack of knowledge, and of teamwork among companies and agencies. Even if the path to routine Starliner service is still written in ink yet to be penned, what is discovered on this mission will inform America’s strategy for crewed spaceflight for generations to come.