Mark: The classic astronaut hero—the lone wolf with 'The Right Stuff'—is a complete myth. The single most important skill NASA teaches isn't flying jets or complex math. It's learning how to fail as a team, and it starts with a terrifying swim test. Michelle: Hold on, a swim test? I thought astronauts were basically fighter pilots who were also geniuses. You’re telling me their biggest challenge is in a swimming pool? That sounds… anticlimactic. Mark: It’s anything but! And that's the core idea from a book I’ve been obsessed with, "Moonshot: A NASA Astronaut’s Guide to Achieving the Impossible" by Mike Massimino. Michelle: Oh, I know him! Isn't he the guy who was on The Big Bang Theory? The first person to tweet from space? Mark: The very same. And what makes his story so powerful, and this book so widely acclaimed, is that he wasn't your typical astronaut. He was a working-class kid from Long Island with bad eyesight and a fear of heights who got rejected by NASA multiple times. His journey is the ultimate underdog story. Michelle: Okay, that I can get behind. Not the superhero, but the guy who probably shouldn't have made it. So where does he even begin? How do you chase a dream that seems, for all practical purposes, completely impossible? Mark: He starts with a simple, but incredibly powerful, piece of mental math. A philosophy that became the engine for his entire career.

Michelle: Okay, but how do you even start when the odds are that stacked against you? 'One in a million' sounds like a lottery ticket, not a career plan. Mark: Exactly. And that's where most people stop. Massimino was a doctoral student at MIT, feeling pretty hopeless about the aerospace job market. He's watching the Oscars one night, and Billy Crystal does a segment with the crew of the space shuttle STS-45, who have an Oscar statuette floating in space with them. Michelle: That’s a pretty random moment of inspiration. Mark: It was everything. It reignited his childhood dream. He starts doing the math in his head. There are about 250 million people in the U.S. at the time. NASA picks about 25 astronauts every couple of years. He figures his odds are, at best, one in a million. And right there, he has this epiphany that becomes the title of the first chapter: "One in a million is not zero." Michelle: Huh. That’s a deceptively simple thought. It’s not about optimism, it’s just… a fact. The door isn't locked, it's just really, really hard to open. Mark: Precisely. And that tiny sliver of possibility is all he needs. But it gets tested, severely. He applies to be an astronaut in 1989. Rejected. He applies again in 1991. Rejected again, with the exact same form letter, just a different date. Michelle: Ouch. That’s got to sting. Mark: It gets worse. He finally gets to the interview stage in 1995. He's at Johnson Space Center, going through a week of intense physical and psychological exams. And then the flight surgeons call him in. They tell him his eyesight is so bad, it can't be corrected to 20/20. He's medically disqualified. The dream is dead. Michelle: Oh man. After all that work, to be taken out by something you can't control. That’s heartbreaking. I think most people would just give up and, honestly, no one would blame them. Mark: And he almost did. But then he gets this incredible piece of advice from a neighbor, who happens to be another astronaut named Steve Smith. Massimino is telling him the bad news, and Steve just looks at him and says, "You have to look at this like any other engineering problem. You have to collect all the information and data you can and figure it out." Michelle: Wow. He reframed it. It’s not a medical death sentence; it's a technical problem with a solution you haven't found yet. Mark: Exactly. So Massimino goes on this quest. He finds an optometrist, Dr. Desiree Hopping, who specializes in "vision training." He spends months doing eye exercises, using special undercorrected lenses to strengthen his eye muscles. He's basically trying to physically will his eyes into getting better. Michelle: That's an amazing story of grit, but it also sounds exhausting. Is the lesson just 'never give up,' or is there a smarter strategy at play? Mark: It's both. The grit is the fuel, but the strategy is the engine. He didn't just blindly keep trying; he actively sought out a new path. He treated his own body like a system that could be optimized. And it worked. He improved his vision just enough to get his medical waiver overturned and was accepted into the astronaut class of 1996. Michelle: That’s incredible. It reminds me of that story he tells about his colleague at Georgia Tech. Mark: Yes! It’s the perfect contrast. He meets this other professor who had also applied to be an astronaut and been rejected once. Massimino asks him if he’ll apply again, and the guy just says, "No, I already got rejected." He just accepted the first "no." Michelle: And that's the difference right there. It’s not just about wanting it. It’s about having that stubborn, almost irrational refusal to accept a closed door. It’s believing that one in a million is not zero. Mark: And that's the perfect pivot, because his individual grit got him to NASA's door, but what he learned inside was that individual grit is useless without the team. This brings us to that swim test I mentioned.

Michelle: Okay, I’m ready for this. Unpack the swim test for me. Why is this the crucible for astronaut teamwork? Mark: So, when you get accepted as an astronaut candidate, or an ASCAN, you get this welcome packet. And buried in it is a warning that you have to pass a swim test to even begin water survival training. Massimino, the kid from Long Island, hated swimming. He was a terrible swimmer. Michelle: Of course he was. It fits the pattern. Mark: He spends the whole summer practicing but he’s still terrified. He gets to NASA, and the class sponsor, a Navy test pilot named Jeff Ashby, gathers all 44 of them at the pool. There are former Navy SEALs, elite pilots, and then there's Massimino, who can barely stay afloat. Ashby lays down the law. He says, "NO ONE LEAVES THE POOL UNTIL EVERYONE PASSES THE TEST. YOU CANNOT DO THIS ALONE. YOU WILL SUCCEED OR FAIL AS A TEAM." Michelle: That's such a powerful image. It's like the anti-corporate ladder. Instead of climbing over each other, they're literally pulling each other up. Mark: It’s exactly that. The test is brutal. They have to swim long distances in a flight suit and tennis shoes. Then they have to do something called "drownproofing," where they have to survive in the water for ten minutes with their hands and feet tied. Michelle: With their hands and feet tied? How is that even possible? Mark: You have to relax, let yourself sink, push off the bottom, grab a breath, and repeat. It's a test of panic control. But the hardest part is treading water for ten minutes while wearing a full flight suit, helmet, and boots. It's exhausting. And the rule is, you can't touch the sides of the pool. Michelle: I’m getting tired just thinking about it. Mark: So the strong swimmers, the SEALs and pilots, they finish early. But they don't get out. They stay in the water, swimming alongside the weaker swimmers, shouting encouragement, giving them tips. They're coaching them in real-time. When someone starts to sink, they're right there, cheering them on. They literally form a human wall around them to keep them going. Michelle: Wow, that's incredible. It completely shatters that 'lone wolf' astronaut myth. But does that kind of teamwork actually hold up when a real crisis hits, like on a mission? When it’s not just about passing a test, but about life and death? Mark: That's the million-dollar question, and it's why this training is so fundamental. Because in space, you can't succeed alone. He tells this story from his Hubble repair mission, STS-125. During the final spacewalk, his crewmate John Grunsfeld accidentally clips an antenna on the telescope. It's a mistake. A piece breaks off and floats away. Michelle: Oh, that’s a bad day at the office. Who gets the blame for that? Mark: No one. That’s the point. Back on the ground, the mission chief, Steve Lindsey, calls them up. And instead of grilling them about the mistake, he says, "Hey, great job today. You guys are rock stars." He completely downplays the error and focuses on the team's overall success. Massimino says, "It’s easy to stand together when you win, but how you carry yourself in defeat is the true measure of your team." They failed as a team, they took responsibility as a team, and they moved on as a team. Michelle: So that pool isn't just a pool. It's a laboratory for building a culture where the group is more important than the individual. Mark: A culture where you know, without a doubt, that your team has your back. But that culture only works if there are clear rules of engagement for when things go wrong. And Massimino learned the first rule the hard way, nearly causing a mid-air collision.

Michelle: A near mid-air collision? Okay, that sounds terrifying. How does that happen when you're flying with an elite astronaut pilot? Mark: That's the scary part—it can happen to anyone. Massimino is a rookie, flying in the back seat of a T-38 jet with Jim "Vegas" Kelly, a super-experienced Air Force pilot. They're on the runway, about to take off, and air traffic control changes their heading at the last second. Massimino updates the flight computer, but he doesn't verbally confirm it with Vegas. Michelle: I can see where this is going. Mark: They take off, and Vegas, on muscle memory, starts turning toward the old heading. Massimino sees it on his display. He knows it's wrong. But he freezes. He thinks, "This is Vegas Kelly. He's a test pilot. He must know something I don't. I'm just the new guy. I don't want to look stupid." Michelle: That fear of looking stupid in front of an expert is so universal. It's paralyzing. Mark: And almost deadly. Suddenly, the air traffic controller's voice screams over the radio: "NASA 901, turn right immediately! Turn right now!" They were heading directly into the path of another aircraft. Vegas yanks the stick, and they narrowly avoid a collision. Michelle: I have chills. What happened when they landed? Mark: Vegas was furious, but not for the reason you'd think. He wasn't mad about the mistake. He was mad that Massimino stayed silent. He gets in his face and says, "The number one thing you need to learn is that you have to speak up when you see something that could be wrong. If you're wrong, that's okay. I'll tell you you're wrong. But I'll still thank you for speaking up. Better to speak up and be wrong than to stay silent and have something unfortunate happen." Michelle: That is such a powerful leadership lesson. It’s not just about individual courage; it’s about the leader creating a culture where speaking up is not just allowed, but required and rewarded. Mark: It's a core NASA principle. And it has a corollary, which is about what to do when things have already gone wrong. It's called "Hoot's Law," named after commander Hoot Gibson. Michelle: Hoot's Law. I love it. What is it? Mark: "No matter how bad things may seem, you can always make it worse." Michelle: (Laughs) That is the most pessimistic, and probably the most accurate, law I've ever heard. Mark: It came from a simulation where a rookie pilot, Charlie Bolden, who later became the head of NASA, had an electrical failure. He panicked, rushed to fix it, and flipped the wrong switch, taking out a second system and "crashing" the simulated shuttle. Hoot's lesson was: when things go bad, the first step is to stop. Don't rush. Go slow to go fast. Michelle: So you have to fight that instinct to panic and just do something. You have to pause, think, and maybe even ask for help. Mark: Exactly. It led to the "Two-Person Rule" for critical actions. One person does the action, the other person verifies it. It slows things down, but it prevents catastrophic mistakes. It’s this incredible blend of urgency and patience. Michelle: It’s a system designed to protect you from your own panicked brain. Mark: A system built on the hard-won lessons of people who made mistakes and were brave enough to share them. It’s a culture of admitting fault, not to place blame, but to make the whole team smarter and safer.

Mark: So you see the pattern emerging here. It's a three-legged stool for achieving the impossible. It starts with an almost irrational personal belief that you can defy the odds—that one in a million is not zero. Michelle: But that's not enough. That individual grit has to be plugged into a collective. A team where everyone is responsible for everyone else, where no one gets left behind in the pool. Mark: Exactly. And that team, that collective, operates on a set of disciplined rules that prioritize safety and communication over ego. You have to speak up, even when you're scared. And you have to slow down, even when you're panicking. Michelle: It’s a fascinating model because it honors both the individual and the group. You need the stubborn dreamer, but that dreamer is useless without a team that has their back, and that team is useless without rules that keep them from destroying themselves. Mark: It completely redefines what a "hero" is. The hero isn't the one who never fails. The hero is the one who gets rejected three times and still finds a way. The hero is the strong swimmer who stays in the pool to help the weakest person finish. The hero is the rookie who has the guts to question the veteran pilot. Michelle: It makes you wonder, what's the 'moonshot' in our own lives we've dismissed as impossible? And more importantly, who is on our team, and are we creating a space where everyone feels safe enough to speak up and help each other pass the test? Mark: That's a fantastic question. We'd love to hear your thoughts. What's a 'moonshot' you're chasing, or a time your team pulled you through? Find us on our socials and share your story. Michelle: This is Aibrary, signing off.