[Note: The genesis of this article is my experience last week with an MRI machine. Being a former submariner, I thought I was essentially immune to the effect of claustrophobia. Once I was inside the machine, I found out very differently. Maybe it was the pain I was in, but once in I just *had* to get out. Oddly enough, when they put me in a different machine a couple of days later, I had no problems at all. The only real differences between them was the tunnel was slightly shorter (thus the rim was just at brow level rather than 'above' my head), and slightly wider (while my shoulders touched the sides, they were no longer 'cramped').]
I find myself musing on the question, "what follows suborbital tourism?". I don't think there is any doubt that high flights will have a customer base, between the various existing aircraft and amusement rides, the interest of the public in such extreme experiences is well demonstrated. (And if you expect to make money there had better be public interest.) The hard part is following that act, and providing something more than just a transitory experience. (I.E. actual CATS.)
Just how uncomfortable is the paying public willing to be? On this simple question hinges the near term future of space tourism. So far as suborbital flights are concerned, this does not seem to be a great issue. The flights are short, and as various aircraft and amusement park rides abundantly demonstrate, folks are willing to pay to be in a state of discomfort that 'normal' people will go to great lengths to avoid. Arguably, this is even more extremely illustrated by the fitness and dieting craze. Folks will willingly endure pain and deprivation to attain what is, to them, a desirable goal.
Interestingly the mounting consumer credit problem shows that they are not willing to endure financial pain and deprivation for the sake of future goals. And as individuals go, so do investors and institutions. Nowadays the watchword is day trading, not blue chips, so much so that Microsoft paying a dividend is big news. Long term investments are out of fashion, replaced by short term gratification. (This has implications for financing the space revolution, but that's a matter for a different day.)
Tito et al. have shown that a market exists for floating around in a cramped space for a while. The question is, who builds and operates that cramped space? How do the paying customers get there?
Bigelow is proceeding with the development of space structures, but leaves the question of access to them seemingly open. Destinations are important, as the vast majority of tourist dollars are spent on going someplace, not doing doing something. Even though they do something at the place they've gone, the emphasis for most people is on 'going to Disneyworld', not 'riding the $SUPER_RIDE'. For ride enthusiasts the emphasis is reversed, but that merely emphasizes the difference between the larger and smaller groups over the similarities.
The end result is the chicken-and-egg problem so familiar to those interested in space access. There is a market for destinations, but no clear market for access. Yet, without access the destinations are pointless. Who bells the cat? Is it healthy from a competition and economic point of view to have destination and access provided by the same company. (Not to mention the implications of the large amounts of capital required.)
While access, in the form of a private Apollo/Soyuz, is a reasonable extrapolation of near term capabilities, does there exist a large enough market willing to endure those privations for the experience of being in space? Here existing tourist experience seems silent.
Ice hotels and
underwater hotels aside, there seems to be no existing analog. Jeff Findley on sci.space.policy suggests that the answer is to seek aggressive reductions in the cost of cramped spaces (I.E. capsules) in the hope that people are willing to pay to endure them for short periods and once their operation is proven, that destinations will follow as a matter of course.
