Update 1-10-17: There is one additional limit to consider. Below about 3 psi pressure of pure oxygen, the absolute humidity is so low, it causes the lungs to dry out, crack, and bleed, if exposure is long-term. For a pure oxygen suit, the exposure time is actually fairly short, and the pressures proposed in this article (2.67 to 3.81 psia) are pretty close to the limit anyway, so they should not present a problem. The two-gas habitation atmospheres, where exposure is long-term, are proposed to be much higher (6.8 to 10.6 psia at 30% oxygen by volume), thus avoiding the problem completely.
Update 2-16-16: Had the wrong plots for Figures 10 & 11; now corrected.
This article updates and supersedes earlier articles on this subject. Those are:
Update 2-16-16: Had the wrong plots for Figures 10 & 11; now corrected.
This article updates and supersedes earlier articles on this subject. Those are:
Date
title
1-15-16 Astronaut Facing Drowning Points Out Need
for Better Space Suit
11-17-14 Space Suit and Habitat Atmospheres
2-11-14 On-Orbit Repair and Assembly
Facility
1-21-11 Fundamental Design Criteria for
Alternative Space Suit Approaches
Background
Up to now, space
suits have been designed with 100% oxygen atmospheres inside at suit pressures
equaling or even exceeding the partial pressure of oxygen in Earthly air near
sea level. That is probably “overkill”, which makes the design of more supple space
suits difficult, whether they are
conventional “full pressure” suits or the alternative mechanical
counterpressure (MCP) suits. Space
station atmospheres have usually been two-gas: oxygen with nitrogen for dilution, similar to Earthly air.
Criteria
There are four things of importance to consider when
running numbers for suit and habitation atmosphere design: (1)
the displacement of dry breathing gas pressure by water vapor pressure inside
the moist lungs, reducing the effective
partial pressure of oxygen driving diffusion of oxygen across the lung tissues
into the blood, (2) how much or how little oxygen is really needed to stay
functional, (3) reducing the fire danger posed by oxygen enrichment, and (4)
reducing or eliminating the “pre-breathe time” necessary to blow off dissolved
nitrogen (or other dilution gases) from the blood when transitioning from a
multiple-gas atmosphere to a pure oxygen suit.
These are independent of suit type.
Water Vapor
Displacement Effect
The movement of oxygen,
nitrogen, other dilution gases
(if any), and carbon dioxide across lung
membranes is a diffusion process, driven
by the differences of partial pressures,
including those of the dissolved gases in the blood. Unlike those,
the water vapor in the lungs is dominated by simple evaporation of the
liquid phase at body temperature,
attempting to reach the equilibrium value. This approach to equilibrium (a number
straight from the steam tables) is not perfect,
but it’s not a bad estimate either,
and it is easy to compute, when
non-equilibrium is not.
Having non-equilibrium water vapor pressure reduces the
actual water vapor pressure, and thus reduces
dry gas displacement. This leads to
slightly-higher oxygen content inside the wet lung than one would calculate for
equilibrium. Thus equilibrium design is
a lower bound on oxygenation: you
actually do slightly better than that in real life. It’s easy and it’s slightly
conservative: a good tool.
Human body temperature is 98.6 F (37.0 C), at which the equilibrium vapor pressure of
water is 0.061921 atm. That is the value
you subtract from the supplied dry breathing gas pressure to determine the
partial pressure of that dry breathing gas inside the wet lungs. The volume percentage of oxygen in that
breathing gas, applied to the in-lung
partial pressure of dry breathing gas,
is then the partial pressure of oxygen in the air inhaled into the wet
lungs. It will be less than the partial
pressure of oxygen in the dry breathing gas.
But, this wet in-lung
oxygen is your real design criterion.
How Much or How
Little Oxygen is Needed?
This depends upon whom you ask. The USAF says pilots must use supplemental
oxygen when flying in an unpressurized cockpit above 10,000 feet. The USN is worried more than USAF about loss
of night vision, something well known to
be sensitive to hypoxia. So USN says to
use supplemental oxygen above 5000 feet.
The FAA says that pilots flying above 10,000 feet for more than 30
minutes, and that pilots flying above
14,000 feet for any time at all, must
use supplemental oxygen. These FAA
requirements apply to all civil aircraft,
commercial or private.
Most of humanity lives within several hundred feet of sea
level: call them “flatlanders” for
convenience. There are lots of people
living in cities near 5000 feet elevation.
Flatlanders visiting these elevated places have essentially zero
problems acclimatizing almost immediately.
There are also quite a few cities around the world at 10,000 feet. Flatlanders visiting these elevated places
require nothing to a few days to acclimatize,
leading to few if any problems. Max
airliner cabin altitude is also 10,000 feet.
There are a very few cities in this world located near
15,000 feet above sea level. The people
who live there are well-acclimatized,
but visitors might require significant time to acclimatize, and will experience some mild problems until
they do. But they eventually do
acclimatize, on a time scale of days to weeks, usually.
Designing to a 15,000 foot equivalency is certainly feasible, therefore.
There are no cities,
but there are a very few rural herders, and some mountain climbers, at 20,000 feet who use no supplemental
oxygen. Not very many flatlanders can
acclimatize to this, and it takes months
or years to do so for permanent residency.
Yet almost no one dies from this exposure, especially if it is not prolonged. So that’s too high for practical design
equivalency, but it is survivable.
What that suggests is that space suits and habitat
atmospheres should be easily feasible and quite acceptable anywhere between sea
level and 10,000-to-perhaps-15,000 feet elevation-equivalent oxygenation. Based on the water vapor displacement
discussion above, the criteria by
which to measure this is the wet in-lung oxygen partial pressure, not the oxygen partial pressure in the dry
ambient air at whatever equivalent altitude that we are considering.
Fire Danger
This is a judgmental factor,
governed by simple human experience.
Most supplemental oxygen systems range from 50% to 100% oxygen, with well-known fire dangers. Most hospital oxygen is 60%, also with well-known fire dangers. NASA’s rough rule-of-thumb is that nothing
over 30% oxygen is safe enough. For this
article, I will use the 30% max oxygen
criterion.
Pre-Breathe Time
Both oxygen and nitrogen dissolve in the blood. If you move to another atmosphere at lowered oxygen
and nitrogen partial pressures, what’s
in your blood must come out of solution,
a process that requires time. The
bigger the differences in partial pressures driving the solution and
un-solution rates, the faster the
process. Except, if you try to do this too fast, the gases form bubbles in your blood before
they can diffuse into your exhalation.
This is “the bends”, which can be
quite damaging, even fatal.
A person in a space habitation with a multiple-gas
atmosphere must generally put on a suit with a pure oxygen atmosphere. The nitrogen (and any other dilution gases)
in his blood must come out of his blood,
but without forming bubbles. This
takes time spent breathing pure oxygen at near-habitation pressures, before reducing the pressure to the suit
design point and going outside. This
time is called the “nitrogen blow-off” or “pre-breathe” time.
There is a rough rule of thumb derived from deep sea diving
experiences, used by NASA, that says that if the ratio of nitrogen
partial pressure to suit atmosphere pressure is 1.2 or less, then the required pre-breathe time is zero
(decompression may safely be immediate).
Whether this applies separately to all dilution gases, or collectively to the sum of their partial
pressures, is perhaps still unclear, but a conservative design approach says apply
it to the collective sum. So that is
what I do here.
What is Required Not
to Asphyxiate at High Altitude or in Space
You must have sufficient oxygen pressure in your lungs to
oxygenate the blood. When that oxygen
pressure is larger than the local ambient atmospheric pressure at altitude, a vented oxygen mask cannot work: you must then breathe oxygen at
pressure-above-ambient. This is called
“pressure breathing”, and it makes you
subject to two classes of serious, even
fatal, problems.
The immediate effect is from trying to breathe at about 2
psi or more above ambient pressure. This
ruptures the lung tissues, and is called
“pneumothorax”. It is irreversible and
fatal: you literally drown in your own
blood. This risk is well known among
divers; it is why you never, ever hold your breath while diving with a
breathing rig. Rising as little as 4
feet while holding your breath can kill you.
One of the longer-term effects is something called
“edema”, which is body parts painfully
swelling up with gases and fluids driven out of the blood. These go into the spaces between cells in the
other tissues, which is what causes the
swelling. For small exposed body
parts, this takes a while: something like 30 minutes for a hand or foot
exposed to vacuum, when the rest of the
body is not. It can happen quicker with
whole-body exposure: something like 10
minutes.
The other longer-term effect is simple blood pooling in
uncompressed extremities, like the
arms, and especially the legs, driven there by the pressure differences. You faint pretty quickly from this, something like 10 minutes’ exposure at
most, 5-10 seconds at minimum. It’s quite similar to high gee-exposure in
flight: blood pools in the legs, leaving your brain starved, and you faint.
So you must have pressure-breathing of oxygen, but your body must also be compressed by the
same pressure, and this has to be
fairly-evenly distributed. This body
compression is called “counterpressure”.
Many people were hurt,
disabled, even killed, learning these rules.
History of
High-Altitude Suits and Space Suits
There are two known ways to achieve the
counterpressure: (1) put yourself inside
a gas-tight balloon so that the gas pressure you breathe is also the
counterpressure applied to your body, or
(2) use a breathing gas helmet and use very tight garments to mechanically
apply the counterpressure all over your body.
The first approach is called a “full pressure suit”, and the second approach has been implemented
as something called a “partial pressure suit”,
or more generically, a “mechanical
counterpressure” suit (MCP suit). The
body simply does not care how the counterpressure is applied.
The first successful means of pressure-breathing at
unsurvivable altitudes was a full pressure suit literally adapted from a
deep-sea diver’s hard-hat diving dress,
in the mid 1930’s. This was
literally a rubber balloon with cloth inside to ease friction donning the
suit, and protective canvas on the
outside to prevent ruptures to the rubber balloon layer. Unlike the deep sea application, this suit is inflated above ambient
pressures, which stiffens the garment
immensely. You’re sealed
inside, so moisture builds up from
breath and sweat. And you are
well-insulated and so cannot get rid of body heat. Movement was extremely restricted in such suits, and they were extremely uncomfortable, even debilitating. A person wearing one could actually do very
little in the way of useful activity.
Figure 1 – Partial Pressure Suit, Left; Early Full Pressure Suit, Right, note bellows easing joints
Starting in the late 1950’s, the advent of high-altitude spy planes and the
beginnings of human spaceflight required something better than the partial
pressure suit with its short protection interval. The full pressure suit was updated with
better joints that flexed easier, and by
the Apollo program, water-cooled
underwear was added to help keep the astronaut cooler as he worked in the
suit.
The suits and life support backpacks got very large and
heavy, because of these heat and
moisture control requirements. Mobility, while better,
was still quite restricted.
Particularly difficult is doing anything but rather gross tasks with the
clumsy, bulky pressure gloves. The higher the suit pressure, the worse this problem is. Such suit designs went from 200 pounds of
suit and equipment on the moon with Apollo,
to nearly 400 pounds in the shuttle,
and on the space station today.
Figure 2 – A Modern Full Pressure Suit as Used on the Space
Shuttle (also has maneuvering thrusters)
Suits like this are designed as little “personal spaceships”
surrounding the astronaut. The one
garment must protect against any and all conceivable hazards. Requirements can be contradictory.
This kind of thing simply will not work very well for
astronauts visiting the surfaces of other worlds (moon, Mars,
etc.). Movement and joint flexion
are still too restricted. The suits are
heavy enough and clumsy enough to limit the ability of an astronaut who has
fallen to get back up without help. If
the suit pressure is lowered, these
restrictions ease slightly, but there
are limits to how much change can be made.
But, this is where we have been
since about 1960.
Except, for some
extremely interesting experiments in MCP, that were never seriously developed.
Experiments in MCP
In the mid to late 1960’s,
Dr. Paul Webb, an expert in
high-altitude crew survival, conducted
experiments with an improved MCP suit approach.
He substituted elastic compression garments for the clothing drawn tight
by inflated air capstans. At that
time, the elastic materials used in
pantyhose were brand new, and he used
them. This suit design approach was
intended for Apollo on the moon, but he
could not get the design fully developed in time. It’s been mostly forgotten ever since.
These materials are not gas-tight; they are quite porous. You sweat right through them to cool, just as with Earthly clothing. There is no gas pressure in your clothing, your skin is really actually exposed to
vacuum, but your clothing squeezes
you, thus countering your breathing gas
pressure. That’s all that is really required. See Figure 3.
The backpack contained liquid makeup oxygen in a Dewar, plus controls.
No water-cooled underwear is needed, which eliminates the risk of drowning when
your underwear springs a leak (something seen at least twice now with full
pressure suits).
Puncture a full pressure suit, and you will die if it deflates before you
can get inside. Puncture an elastic
leotard (or even the old partial pressure suit), and there is no leak: there is no gas in the clothing to leak
out. If the hole is under about 0.1 inch
in size, you may safely ignore it. Simply sew it up later, once inside.
If it is bigger, it still won’t
kill you. You can avoid local vacuum
injury to the exposed skin by a simple tight wrap of something like duct
tape. Fix it later when you go
inside, by sewing it up.
These elastic leotards are easily launderable; full pressure suits are not. That is a crucial advantage in dirty, dusty places like the moon and Mars, and for repeated long-term use anywhere.
And Webb changed the design philosophy: think of this as a pressure-breathing helmet
and vacuum-protective underwear, over
which you don whatever protective outerwear fits the task at hand.
Figure 3 – Paul Webb’s “Elastic Leotard” MCP Suit of about
1968
Figure 4 – The MCP “Elastic Leotard” Provides Very Excellent
Mobility
Dr. Webb’s experiments clearly demonstrated the suppleness
and mobility achievable in this MCP elastic approach. The fact that his test subject was not
wearing the insulated coveralls and hiking boots needed for the moon or Mars
makes no difference. Those apparel items
are something bought at Walmart or its equivalent. They do not need to be incorporated
into the vacuum-protective underwear.
Nor would they have added any significant impediment to the test subject
wearing the elastic leotard.
The back bend maneuver shown in Figure 4 is completely
impossible in today’s full pressure suits.
Yet this test subject in an MCP suit could do the maneuver. Plus,
the much smaller and lighter backpack evident in Figure 3 would not have
compromised this ability.
Likewise, the
ladder-climbing exercise in Figure 5 would also be virtually impossible in
today’s full pressure suits. It was
barely possible in the much-lighter (but still cumbersome) Apollo
moonsuit. And again, the smaller MCP backpack would not have
impeded this activity.
Figure 5 – MCP Suppleness Allows Performance of Tasks
Impossible in Full Pressure Suits
In Dr. Webb’s design,
there are elastic compression gloves and booties, so no body parts are left uncompressed. If you compare these gloves to the full
pressure suit gloves in either Figure 2 or Figure 1 above, you can see at a glance these are far thinner
and far more supple.
The elastic leotard MCP suit is not a single
one-piece garment. You put it on in many
separate pieces and layers. In
particular, you can don and doff the
gloves without disturbing the suit compression on the rest of the body. There is no risk of losing breathing gas
pressure, as there is none anywhere in
the suit, except the helmet and
breathing bag.
Given the 30 minute interval before swelling starts in a
vacuum-exposed hand, this presents the
possibility of doing very fine tasks completely bare-handed in space, on a short-term basis. The only other requirement to do this is
workpiece temperatures that will not cause thermal injury to the bare
hand, and that has nothing to
do with the suit design.
Figure 6 – Final Test of “Elastic Leotard” ca. 1968 in Vacuum Chamber at 87,000 feet for Half an Hour
This work by Dr. Webb on the elastic leotard MCP suit was
partly funded by NASA, so they knew
by 1968-1970 that this kind of suit would work, and that it offered some very attractive
characteristics. But NASA has never seriously
followed up on this development, not
back then, nor ever since. And yet,
this is the kind of suit we really need for long term activities on the
surfaces of other worlds, such as the
moon or Mars. Dr. Webb tried over the
years to get private funding without success,
and has now died.
NASA has in recent years provided grant monies to Dr. Dava
Newman at MIT to continue work on a variation of the elastic leotard MCP
suit. This is academic research at
relatively small funding levels, not a
major engineering development effort.
Dr. Newman’s variant looks at fewer layers of more-tailored elastic
properties, something not available in
Dr. Webb’s day. Her version is still
quite a supple-looking “skinsuit”, shown
in Figure 7.
Dr. Newman has since been hired to work directly at
NASA. Yet, there is still no major development effort
going on for MCP spacesuits. Insiders
tell me the astronaut office is afraid of MCP because they have been
erroneously told that skin exposure to vacuum is fatal. There’s simply no excuse for that, given Dr. Webb’s experimental success almost
5 decades ago.
Running the Numbers
on Suit Pressures
I looked at a sea level-equivalent design, and a design equivalent to 10-15,000
feet, as bounds on what we might really do
for spacesuits. This applies to either
type (full pressure or MCP). There has
to be a little leakage margin for the suit or the breathing system. You want the leaked-down pressures to still
be adequate enough to get back inside without help.
I based my calculations on wet in-lung partial pressure of
oxygen as the criterion, as discussed
above. I used a spreadsheet to calculate
the dry air pressures, and the displaced
in-lung wet pressures for air as a function of altitude on a US 1962 standard
day. Then I looked at pure oxygen at
atmospheric pressures as a function of altitude, and did the wet in-lung displacement on
those. The image of that spreadsheet is
given as Figure 8. At the bottom of the
image, I have converted the design point
data into a variety of units of measure for the reader’s convenience.
For the low-pressure suit design, I looked at 10 to 14,000 feet air, highlighted green in the spreadsheet. There’s a yellow highlight on the 15,000 feet
conditions that I used for the leaked-down condition. I settled on a 12,000 foot design. It’s pure oxygen counterpart is also
highlighted green, at about 40,500
feet. The corresponding leakdown is
about 42,000 feet. The wet in-lung
oxygen partial pressures for this design are 0.120 atm nominal and 0.107 atm
leaked-down, for a 12% margin.
Figure 8 – Spreadsheet Image of Pressures vs Altitude for Suit Designs
Looked at the more usual way, the “low pressure” suit has a nominal suit
pressure of 0.182 atm (2.67 psia), and
can safely leak down to 0.169 atm (2.48 psia).
The “sea level oxygen” suit has a suit pressure of 0.259 atm (3.81
psia), and can safely leak down to 0.236
atm (3.47 psia). They are both pure
oxygen suits, requiring dessicant, carbon dioxide absorbent, and makeup oxygen. The margins look different using those
numbers, at 7.7% low-P and 9.7% high-P. But,
comparing wet in-lung partial pressure of oxygen is the more proper
measure, and the more proper basis for
calculating leak-down margins. So that
is the way I did it, not the usual
way.
Running the Numbers on
Habitation Atmospheres
The minimum habitation air pressure obtains when you set its
wet in-lung oxygen partial pressure equal to that in the suit. In other words, you let the suit drive the habitation
atmosphere selection. You can always set
it higher, but you should not set it
lower than suit oxygenation. Doing this
calculation as a function of design suit pressures, across a range of them, allows you to see the trends in what is
important and what is not. You also do
it for a range of oxygen concentrations (volume percentages) in the habitation, as the parameter on a parametric plot with
multiple curves.
There are two questions to investigate: what effects (if any) suit pressure selection
might have upon habitat pressure, and
also upon the pre-breathe time requirements.
Again, I did this in a
spreadsheet, images from which are given
in Figure 9.
The illustrated sequence of calculations is simple and
straightforward. Start with the suit
pressure, which is pure dry oxygen. Do the water vapor displacement subtraction
to determine the suit wet in-lung oxygen partial pressure. Make that value the habitation wet in-lung
partial pressure of oxygen. Use the
volume percentage oxygen to figure the wet in-lung partial pressure of
nitrogen, then sum the gases to obtain
the wet in-lung partial pressure of dry air.
Then add back in the partial pressure of water vapor to determine the
habitation atmosphere total pressure before any vapor displacement occurs.
Figure 9 – Spreadsheet Images for Habitation Atmospheres
Driven to Match Suit Design Pressure
I did this for the normal Earthly air oxygen percentage of
20.94%, for the max allowable percentage
acceptable from a fire risk standpoint (30%),
and finally an even higher oxygen percentage that meets the “no
pre-breathe time” rule of thumb. That
last value is just about 41%. This data
can also be plotted in the same basic format to visualize the true nature of
the pre-breathe trends.
I plotted habitation atmosphere pressures versus suit
pressures in Figure 10, parametric on oxygen
percentages. For the highest suit
pressure and lowest oxygen percentage,
the minimum required atmosphere pressure can be right at sea level
standard pressure, the rest are reduced-pressure.
I plotted the ratio of habitation nitrogen partial pressure
to suit pressure (the pre-breathe factor) versus suit pressure in Figure
11, again parametric on oxygen
percentages. Those are relatively less sensitive
to suit pressure, but more sensitive to
habitation oxygen percentage: richer
oxygen is closer to feasibility for no pre-breathe time, and the stronger effect of the two.
You can eliminate pre-breathe time (at any feasible suit
pressure) by using just about 41% oxygen,
unacceptable from a fire hazard standpoint. Otherwise, use the greatest oxygen percentage (30%) that
you safely can, and also use the lowest
credible suit pressure (a weaker effect,
but still significant) to achieve the minimum required pre-breathe time.
Figured at the nominal suit pressures for the “sea level
oxygen” and low pressure designs discussed above, the corresponding habitat atmospheres are
described (and converted to a variety of units of measure) in the data of
Figure 12. Again, this is a spreadsheet image.
Figure 12 – Results for Preferred Suit Designs and Oxygen
Percentages
I do not have a way to calculate the actual pre-breathe time
requirement from the pre-breathe factor,
something needed when that factor exceeds about 1.2. But,
the larger the factor, the longer
the time, that much is certain. So there really is some benefit in terms
of pre-breathe time to using the lowest credible suit pressures.
Checking the Upper
Limit
There is one final thing to check during pre-breathe
activities: upper limits on the pressure
of the pure oxygen. With no more than 1
atm of habitation pressure, this is not
a problem. The upper limit for pure
oxygen exposure is known to be 1 atm from deep-sea diving. Pure oxygen exposure becomes fatal at 2 atm, although this does take several minutes to
occur. The usual first symptom is
convulsions.
Conclusions
#1. Habitations should probably use a two-gas atmosphere
that is oxygen-enriched (to the fire safety limit), basically an oxygen-enriched synthetic
air: 30% by volume oxygen and 70%
nitrogen. That is a simple and easy
thing to do.
#2. The minimum habitation
atmospheric pressure depends upon the selected suit design pressure, ranging from near 0.462 atm (6.8 psia) for
the low-pressure designs, to 0.720 atm
(10.6 psia) for the higher-pressure designs, all when using the 30% oxygen composition.
#3. The range of credible suit pressures extends
from 0.182 atm (2.67 psia) to 0.259 atm (3.81 psia).
#4. Using the lower suit pressure design decreases required
pre-breathe time, but not to zero.
#5. The suit pressure designs and habitation atmospheres recommended
here apply to either full-pressure suits or MCP suits.
#6. Far
better mobility in a much lighter and more versatile suit design can be
achieved using MCP; so these suits need
to developed into a routinely-reliable form as soon as possible!
#7. Raising the
habitation pressure above minimum increases pre-breathe time required
somewhat.