India’s space dream needs more than rockets

India has grown accustomed to celebrating ISRO’s triumphs. Every successful launch, every lunar mission and every satellite deployment is rightly hailed as another milestone in the country’s scientific journey. The headlines speak of technological excellence, strategic capability and India’s emergence as a serious space power. Far less attention is paid to the people who make those achievements possible.

That is why reports of more than a hundred scientists and engineers leaving ISRO through resignations or voluntary retirements should worry us far more than they do. The government’s decision to tighten the approval process for resignations is itself an admission that the trend has become difficult to ignore. Institutions do not make it harder for people to leave unless they fear losing them.

But restricting exits is not the same as solving the problem. Talking to News18, former ISRO Chairman G. Madhavan Nair recently offered a candid assessment of the situation. His observations deserve careful consideration, not merely because he once headed the organisation, but because he belongs to the generation that transformed ISRO into one of the world’s most respected space agencies.

The first reason is also the most obvious. India’s private space sector has finally come of age. Opening the sector to private participation was the right decision. It has encouraged innovation, attracted investment and created opportunities that simply did not exist a decade ago. Several private companies today are designing satellites, developing launch vehicles and undertaking sophisticated space projects. They also need experienced scientists and engineers, and there is no better place to find them than ISRO. A scientist who has spent years working on propulsion systems, satellite integration or mission planning carries experience that cannot be replicated in a laboratory or acquired through a management programme. It is only natural that private companies are willing to pay a substantial premium for that expertise. This is not a failure of the private sector. It is evidence that the reforms have succeeded.

The question is whether ISRO has adapted to the consequences of that success. For decades, the organisation could rely on its prestige, the excitement of cutting-edge science and the absence of serious alternatives. That equation has changed. Today’s scientists have options. Pride in serving the nation remains important, but it cannot compensate indefinitely for slower career progression, lower salaries and limited incentives.

The challenge is compounded by another reality. ISRO’s responsibilities have expanded enormously. Human spaceflight, planetary exploration, navigation systems, strategic programmes and commercial launches all demand specialised manpower. Yet recruitment has not kept pace. A growing mission portfolio supported by an insufficient workforce inevitably places greater pressure on those who remain. No institution can sustain that imbalance indefinitely. 

Equally significant has been the gradual weakening of the original vision behind the Indian Institute of Space Science and Technology (IIST). IIST was conceived as more than another engineering institution. It was designed to be ISRO’s dedicated talent pipeline. Bright students received a world-class education funded by the government and, in return, committed themselves to serving the organisation for a fixed period after graduation. It was a remarkably sensible arrangement, and ISRO received a steady supply of exceptionally capable young scientists who were trained specifically for its requirements. Students received both an education and a clear career path. That model has steadily faded and has more or less been shelved. Many outstanding graduates now move directly into the private sector, leaving ISRO to compete for talent that it once cultivated almost by design.

Mr Madhavan Nair also spoke about increasing bureaucratic interference in the functioning of the organisation. Every publicly funded institution requires accountability. But accountability should strengthen scientific institutions, not burden them with layers of administrative control. Science flourishes when decisions are driven by technical judgement. Excessive bureaucracy rarely accelerates innovation. More often, it delays it.

Compensation presents another challenge. Government pay structures were never designed to compete with venture-funded technology companies. Although that is understandable, the absence of meaningful performance incentives for scientists working on nationally significant missions is far more difficult to justify.

India, by the way, is not alone in confronting this challenge. NASA has periodically grappled with the loss of experienced engineers to companies such as SpaceX, Blue Origin and other private aerospace firms. The European Space Agency and Japan’s JAXA have faced similar pressures as commercial space industries have expanded around them. The difference lies not in the existence of the problem but in the response to it. Those agencies have increasingly focused on improving recruitment, creating opportunities for movement between the public and private sectors, and making scientific careers more attractive. They have largely recognised that talent cannot be retained by administrative fiat; it has to be earned.

One suspects that the government’s instinctive response to the present situation reveals a larger pattern. When institutions show signs of stress, the first impulse too often is to tighten administrative control rather than examine the reasons behind the discontent. The assumption seems to be that systems can be corrected by issuing stricter instructions, centralising more decisions or limiting individual choices. That approach may work in a bureaucracy, but it almost never works in a laboratory. Scientific institutions draw their strength from curiosity, autonomy, collaboration and the confidence that professional excellence will be recognised and rewarded. Those qualities cannot be mandated through government orders.

India’s ambitions in space are becoming more demanding with every passing year. Human spaceflight is only the beginning. Future lunar missions, deep-space exploration, reusable launch systems and an expanding commercial space economy will require an even larger pool of highly skilled scientists and engineers. That makes talent India’s most valuable strategic asset. Launch vehicles can be redesigned, satellites can be rebuilt, and budgets can always be increased. But a generation of experienced scientists that quietly walks away is far harder to replace.

If the present moment prompts a serious review of recruitment, career progression, compensation, institutional autonomy and the restoration of a robust talent pipeline, this episode may ultimately strengthen ISRO. If, instead, the principal lesson the government draws is that scientists should find it harder to resign, it will have mistaken compliance for commitment. History offers a simple lesson. Great scientific institutions are built by attracting exceptional minds, trusting them to do extraordinary work and giving them compelling reasons to stay. They are rarely strengthened by making the exit door harder to open.

The author is a National Award winner for Best Narration and an independent political analyst. Views expressed are personal.