MISHAPS and disasters of the IRS-1D and INSAT-2D kind may be an accepted part of the global space game, but many are asking if ISRO's recent troubles have anything to do with man-management, post-liberalisation. "It looks like a great place to be. But frustration is building up," says one ISRO scientist who quit recently. "It's top-heavy. Nepotism is on the rise. Underpaid and underutilised, key guys are getting demoralised." Pre-Manmohanomics, the pride of working for a government organisation wanting to put India on the space map was enough to woo the best brains to ISRO. It offered decent money, a little glamour and a lot of job security.
But in the age of Mammon, ISRO has been unable to match the carrots dangled by other players in the space industry and software transnationals. Result: a constant erosion of high-quality manpower.
Minister of state for science and technology Y.K. Alagh says some 530 scientists and engineers have left ISRO in the past five years.
"It's amazing how people are still sticking around," says former INSAT programme director P. Ramachandran.
In 1995 alone, 130 technical staff bid goodbye; 42 per cent of them junior level computer scientists in ISRO's space application centre. "Less than five per cent of the 17,000 staff are now Ph.Ds," says another former scientist. ISRO can hire people at middle and senior levels directly. But it hasn't been easy attracting the best to Antriksh Bhavan.
While the TNCs offer 4-5 times more money, foreign trips and postings, all ISRO has in its quiver is the Fifth Pay Commission's revised scales. And free housing as perk. But the commission's recommendations have only made things worse.
An ISRO director was of joint secretary rank earlier, earning a basic of Rs 5,900-7,300. With the new structure, the scientist gets less than the babu. Ditto middle-level scientists. At best they can hope to earn Rs 2 lakh a year, the TNCs offer Rs 7 lakh.
So ISRO's new recruits are not from the IITs and IIMs, but from the regional engineering colleges and good private colleges.
ISRO chief Kasturirangan says he isn't unduly worried about people leaving. There are still some from the heady '70s to guide the newcomers. But the oldtimers will retire three-five years from now. That's when the crunch will come. "The flight of talent will impact the programme in the long run," says P. Ramachandran.
Mercifully, nobody has yet said those who do not know their onions are assembling satellites that go kaput. Or that there are enough bruised egos within the ranks which would like to see a few reverses. But it's open season. "The incidence of nepotism at the higher echelons of ISRO has made scientists feel frustrated," reports The Pioneer . The implication: not only is ISRO unable to get or retain the best, it isn't treating those who are around too well.
ISRO has a history of ego trip-ups. When U.R. Rao became boss in 1984, V.R. Gowariker of the Vikram Sarabhai Space Centre quit on being overlooked. When Rao picked a relatively junior Kasturirangan as his successor, A.E. Muthunayagam of the liquid propulsion lab put in his papers.
