Bridging Science and Engineering to Explore the Cosmos
Why interdisciplinary thinking is vital to making planetary exploration flourish
When I was young, I wondered about life beyond Earth. I was told I had to choose: study it through science or engineer the tools for the exploration. But why not both? To me, it wasn't clear why those paths had to be different.
What is Planetary Science?
To pursue my passion for space, I chose planetary science—a dynamic field that explores the planets, moons, and celestial bodies within and beyond our solar system. This discipline weaves together insights from astrophysics, geophysics, chemistry, and more to examine their chemical and physical compositions, atmospheres, magnetospheres, geology, origins, and evolution. By unraveling these mysteries, planetary science reveals the fascinating story of how these bodies formed, evolved, and exist today, deepening our understanding of our cosmic neighborhood.
The Separation Between Science and Engineering
You’d think planetary scientists and aerospace engineers would be two peas in a pod—both are fascinated by the mysteries of the universe, both push the boundaries of what’s possible. But in practice, they often operate in separate worlds. I’ve seen this play out firsthand, scientists frustrated by instrument designs that limit their work, and engineers unsure how their new technological development applies to scientific discovery. There is a real philosophical divide between the groups. Scientists want to know why things are the way they are, piecing together the universe through observation. Engineers are focused on how to make things work, solving problems through practical application.
The philosophical divide between seeking understanding and prioritizing practical application manifests in other domains as well: in medicine, researchers uncover disease mechanisms while clinicians treat patients; in literature, scholars dissect narratives and themes while writers craft stories in art; and so on for the arts, literature, economics, and so much more.
But when these different groups work side by side, over time, they start to speak each other’s language. They learn to think more alike, bridging that philosophical gap. Instead of studying the same coin from opposite sides, they flip it together, seeing the whole picture. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. That’s why I’m such a big believer in bringing these groups together under one roof, like we do here at Stanford’s planetary science lab within the aerospace engineering department.
When scientists and engineers share the same space, scientists start to get how design works; engineers begin to see the science behind the tools. Collaboration stops being a clunky process and becomes second nature.
How I've Fused Planetary Science and Aerospace Engineering
My research explores the icy moons of Jupiter and Saturn, using simulations and inversions to assess their potential for life.
But I also want to shape missions that visit these worlds, working on the complete loop from mission and instrument design to scientific goals and specifications.
In traditional space missions, collaboration exists where various groups negotiate back and forth—scientists focus on potential discoveries, engineers on technical goals. They’re working toward the same goal, but their different focuses can pull them in opposite directions. So, what's wrong with scientists and engineers staying in their lane, speaking from their expertise?
While there is nothing objectively wrong with this approach, it limits the innovation the mission could potentially achieve. With a unified approach, each individual can influence the mission’s design to get the results they want from both a scientific and engineering standpoint, working as a singular group rather than between groups. This approach blurs the line between scientist and engineer, fostering investigators equipped to tackle space’s toughest challenges from all angles.
This is something that I get to do here at Stanford's AA department. For example, we have a lab specializing in autonomous distributed space missions (SLAB) that orbit Earth and another planetary science lab with a past of studying asteroids and dwarf planets in the asteroid belt. I hope to work with both of them, developing a concept for a distributed space system with small-scale CubeSats to orbit and study the composition of near-Earth asteroids.
Success of the Interdisciplinary Approach
This interdisciplinary approach is not just a theoretical idea—it has proven critical in real-world space missions, especially when unexpected challenges arise. In 1989, NASA launched Galileo, the first spacecraft to orbit Jupiter and study its moons, poised to transform our understanding of the gas giant, its satellites, and even the solar system’s origins. But in 1991, disaster struck: the umbrella-like high-gain antenna, critical for transmitting data back to Earth, failed to fully deploy, leaving the low-gain antenna’s sluggish 8-16 bits per second—far too slow to deliver the mission’s ambitious scientific payload.
Fixing a spacecraft millions of miles away was no small feat. An engineer alone might grasp the spacecraft’s technical quirks but miss how tweaks could affect scientific data; a scientist might prioritize data but lack insight into possible fixes. Thankfully, Galileo’s interdisciplinary team of investigators tackled the crisis together, blending their expertise to devise innovative solutions. They boosted the low-gain antenna’s performance with innovative onboard data compression, optimized scientific pipelines, upgraded ground receivers, and Deep Space Network antenna arraying, raising the data rate to 160 bits per second and an effective bandwidth of up to 1,000 bits per second. By storing critical backlogged data on the spacecraft’s tape recorder for later transmission, they salvaged the mission. This collaborative approach delivered groundbreaking results: the first direct measurements of Jupiter’s atmosphere, evidence of a potential subsurface ocean on Europa, detailed observations of Io’s volcanism, and deep insights into Jupiter’s magnetosphere.
How You Can Bridge the Gap Between Fields
The Galileo mission’s success, driven by scientists and engineers working as a unified team, showcases the potential of interdisciplinary collaboration. This approach serves as a powerful model for anyone seeking to blend fields, whether in space exploration or other domains. But how can engineers curious about science, scientists eager to tackle technical challenges, or anyone aiming to merge disciplines make this happen? Not everyone is in a place where science and engineering or any other field naturally mix—lots of departments or institutions keep them separate, divided by tradition and/or structure. That’s okay. You can still make it happen with a bit of effort and an open mind.
Here’s how to start bridging those gaps, based on what I’ve learned:
Check out talks or workshops in the field you’re curious about:
These are easy ways to get a taste of what’s going on without diving in headfirst.
For example, a planetary scientist might go to an engineering talk and realize a small instrument design choice that they can exploit in their research. An engineer at a science seminar might spot a problem that they feel could be readily solved with new technology
You’ll hear about current challenges, tools, or questions that might spark a connection to your work, opening your eyes to how the two fields can intersect
Chat with people from other fields:
Seminars and workshops are great for meeting people—researchers, students, or professionals—who are interested in the same big questions. Ask about their work, share what you’re doing, and see where it goes.
These connections become the foundation of interdisciplinary work, linking you to mentors, peers, or teams who share your vision, regardless of institutional barriers.
Keep your mind open and ask questions:
Don’t stick to what you already know. Being open to new ways of thinking or new ways of solving a problem can lead to cool ideas you’d never get otherwise.
Don't be afraid to ask questions, even if it might feel uncomfortable, this is one of the best ways to pick up a new field of knowledge
An Institutional Case for Interdisciplinary Collaboration
Like I mentioned above, an individual can take this interdisciplinary jump with their own initiative, but it is much more effective if this collaboration is built into the structure of their institution. Logistical and bureaucratic hurdles slow the development of cutting-edge technology and discoveries. For example, as a leader in space exploration like NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL), I saw that the divide between scientists and engineers is deeply embedded in the organization. Scientists and engineers often work in separate buildings, follow entirely different leadership and management structures, and operate under distinct funding structures, yet they must collaborate closely on the same projects. While JPL undoubtedly achieves remarkable results, this structure raises the question of whether more seamlessly integrated collaboration could further enhance its output.
A blended department or institution breaks down these barriers, merging science and engineering or any discipline, to address cosmic questions more effectively and efficiently. Instead of training scientists and engineers in isolation, we should prepare investigators skilled in both. It’s a smarter way to explore the universe, and I feel more institutions should embrace this interdisciplinary approach to spark innovation and push the boundaries of what’s possible. There are very powerful minds working in science and engineering, respectively. Why not have them work together on the same problems to come up with ideas that progress our knowledge in both domains?
The Future Is Interdisciplinary
For those in very traditional settings, the challenge is real, but so is the opportunity. By stepping outside your bubble—whether through a seminar, a conversation, or a new project—you’re not just building skills; you’re shaping a mindset. You’re becoming an investigator who sees problems from all angles, ready to design missions, interpret data, or solve cosmic puzzles in ways that single-discipline approaches cannot. Institutions may not always make this easy, but you can. And as more people embrace this mindset, it will push for departments and programs that train investigators, not just scientists or engineers. That’s how we’ll deepen our understanding of space—by linking ideas across disciplines to answer questions neither side could tackle alone.
Ian Fu
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