Now you need more than the 'Right Stuff': The astronauts who will try to fix the Hubble telescope are a breed apart from their predecessors, says Steve Connor

THIRTY years ago, in the age of the first cosmonaut, Yuri Gagarin, and first astronaut, John H Glenn, the 'Right Stuff' meant being young, brave, physically fit and mentally alert, but not necessarily too well endowed upstairs. In fact, the first men in space had little more going for them in the rocket scientist stakes than the monkeys and dogs they replaced in the superpower race for extraterrestrial supremacy.

Gagarin, a military test pilot, had little else to do in his once- round-the-world orbit in 1961 than remember to bale out at the end in the parachute provided. Much the same was true for Glenn in 1962, when his three orbits lasted just under five hours. Although they looked impressive in their fish-bowl helmets and tinsel suits, yesterday's astronauts were little more than glorified test pilots, with fewer controls to tweak.

Over the past couple of decades, however, the notion of astronaut-as-hero has changed. Yes, they are still brave; they are still handsome (usually); and their jobs are still glamorous. But other ingredients are required: they have to be brainy and, quite often, decidedly mature.

Take, for instance, a space shuttle commander with the improbable name of Dr Story Musgrave. At the age of 58, he could easily be a grandfather - his eldest daughter is 31.

Dr Musgrave is also a qualified surgeon, has half-a-dozen university degrees or qualifications to his name, and lists 'literary criticism' as a hobby, as well as hang gliding, parachuting and scuba diving.

He is by no means unique. His colleagues on the shuttle flight this December, whose task is to fix the myopia and jitteriness of the Hubble space telescope, include highly qualified astrophysicists, aeronautical engineers and doctors of other sciences. One, Kathryn Thornton, a youthful 40- year-old doctor of the philosophy of physics, has spent seven hours walking in space; she is also mother to three daughters and two stepsons.

Dr Musgrave, too, is blessed with a youthful physique, despite his severe Yul Brynner haircut and a boyish sense of adventure that exposes his Right Stuff roots.

One problem for astronauts 'riding the stack' - sitting in the shuttle cockpit on top of the highly explosive rockets and fuel tanks that kick the spacecraft into orbit - is how to see what is going on around them. This Dr Musgrave has managed to circumvent with a little optical ingenuity.

'I wear this mirror, right here on my wrist, so I can see out the back window,' he says. 'You're not supposed to be looking out the back window because you're a real dragster. You're only supposed to be looking out the front.

'The first time I did this, I thought I shouldn't have done it 'cos, you know, you're looking at a flame trench back there, and you hope that whatever it is that keeps pushin', keeps pushin', 'cos you don't want to fall back down. 'But it's incredible. It's just like a video camera zooming out. You pick up the whole perimeter of the launch pad and all. You roll over, and the beach and the waves go by, and it's like a huge flashbulb goes off, and there's the whole of Florida lit up.'

He is glad that the December launch will be at night which, though technically the same as a daytime launch, gives the crew a better opportunity to watch 'the fireworks'. 'I guarantee that for the person riding the stack, a night launch is a little different,' he says. 'All you see is blue sky or blackness. It's not like seeing the acceleration of a well-hit baseball or golf ball.'

Literary criticism will be the last thing on his mind when 'the stack' is pushing him towards the 17,000mph velocity that flings the shuttle into orbit. 'You don't get a nice sound in there when it's 137 decibels. You shake, rattle and roll, and I'm scared to death.'

Once safely in orbit, he intends to 'put the ship to bed and go to sleep', before making the final preparations for the arduous series of space walks in the Hubble repair mission.

'On the third day, we're going to chase after Hubble and go get it.' And once his crew captures it, he intends to deploy a little surgical skill.

'It may seem a little ironic that my basic training was that of a surgeon,' he says. 'I hope to apply the basic skills on that telescope: to be that careful, that precise and that gentle.'

Over four or five days, four members of the shuttle crew will spend about 24 hours or more walking in space, attempting to replace the defective solar arrays of the Hubble, and inserting a device to correct the defects in its main mirror that have prevented it taking clear pictures of objects deep in space. They will also undertake the most laborious series of manoeuvres ever attempted outside an orbiting spacecraft.

Physical fitness is vital, but they will also have to make difficult decisions about the most complex scientific instrument at present in space.

'This is not your local garage,' Dr Musgrave says. 'There are going to be some surprises - that's the space flight business.

'Our ability to accommodate surprises - that's going to determine whether we can get the job done.' And that is why today's rocket scientists must be able to reach beyond mission control and launch pad.

Faced with so much danger, dangling several hundred miles above terra firma and never knowing what problems are going to crop up, does he enjoy what he does?

'Well, I've been doing this job for 26 years, so I can hardly say I don't like this business.'

Dr Story Musgrave demonstrates that an astronaut today requires not only the bravery of (to quote Tom Wolfe) 'that elite who had the capacity to bring tears to men's eyes, the very Brotherhood of the Right Stuff itself', but also a lot of scientific nous.

(Photograph omitted)