collaborating with the CIA, simply neglected to carry them. Today, in the 21st century, this happens to be one area in which there is potential to turn the tables. Now, local stories can be spread far and wide via the Web. In the future, this may prove to be a problem for the secret-keepers.
So far, however, a preponderance of power remains on the other side of the fence. In fact, the revolving doors connecting academia, journalism, and the national security community are openly acknowledged. An abundance of intellectuals actively court the national security world. Why not, when the connections, prestige, and paychecks are so compelling?
As it happens, most UFO debunkers have been connected with the national security community. In this regard, Donald Menzel has already been discussed, but during the 1960s, a successor to Menzel was in the wings: Philip J. Klass. 11 Klass was no scientist like Menzel, but he was the Senior Avionics editor for the prestigious defense publication, Aviation Week and Space Technology . For more than three decades, Klass used any and all means to throw cold water over the idea of UFOs. Some explanations were astronomical, even to describe large objects that were tracked on radar. Some he quickly labeled as hoaxes, such as a 1964 landing case witnessed by a terrified police officer, in which ground traces were photographed and studied. Other explanations were more creative, such as “ball lightning” to describe an enormous structured craft hovering at treetop level. When these failed to impress, Klass plied the trade of the propagandist, often via ridicule, invective, and furious letter-writing campaigns to smear reputations.
Throughout his career, Klass was under widespread suspicion—not proven as of this writing—of being an intelligence community asset. That he lived in the Washington, D.C. area, had consistent and exceptional access to the mainstream U.S. media, and worked within the defense community made such suspicion understandable.
People such as Menzel, Klass, and their successors have been important as vocal, media-savvy debunkers who seem independent, but are actually tied to the defense and intelligence community. Their work sets the tone for the mainstream media, which generally follows along happily.
Denial and Ridicule in Service to the State
Today, most professors and journalists—who have nothing to do with the national security state—have internalized the sanctioned opinions. They have learned to discuss UFOs the way a weary parent chastises a child for reading too many comic books. These things are not real. If you speak about them too much or too openly, people may think there is something wrong with you.
That is one reason why the cover-up has stood for so long. Had we followed our own glasnost policy from the beginning, the UFO argument would be over. People would have discussed this problem in the editorial pages, on the nightly news, and over hot dogs at their children’s ball games. They would have concluded that something was there. Except that the architects of the cover-up stumbled upon the twin concepts that enabled them to hide the truth from the people they were sworn to protect. Two pillars, each one lending strength to the other in service of the common goal.
Denying the witnesses. People who saw “flying saucers” were often marginalized and ridiculed. One of the two famous McMinnville Photos from May 1950, strongly believed to be authentic . Photo by Paul Trent.
Denial and Ridicule
Official denial works. When a general or leading scientist explains there is no fire, that the smoke is an illusion, our natural instinct is to believe—despite what the crazy neighbor thinks, sometimes despite the evidence from our own eyes. We want to believe our authority figures.
Ridicule gives denial its power. When official statements are made, language is of the utmost importance. It is easier to smirk at a “flying saucer” than an “unidentified
So far, however, a preponderance of power remains on the other side of the fence. In fact, the revolving doors connecting academia, journalism, and the national security community are openly acknowledged. An abundance of intellectuals actively court the national security world. Why not, when the connections, prestige, and paychecks are so compelling?
As it happens, most UFO debunkers have been connected with the national security community. In this regard, Donald Menzel has already been discussed, but during the 1960s, a successor to Menzel was in the wings: Philip J. Klass. 11 Klass was no scientist like Menzel, but he was the Senior Avionics editor for the prestigious defense publication, Aviation Week and Space Technology . For more than three decades, Klass used any and all means to throw cold water over the idea of UFOs. Some explanations were astronomical, even to describe large objects that were tracked on radar. Some he quickly labeled as hoaxes, such as a 1964 landing case witnessed by a terrified police officer, in which ground traces were photographed and studied. Other explanations were more creative, such as “ball lightning” to describe an enormous structured craft hovering at treetop level. When these failed to impress, Klass plied the trade of the propagandist, often via ridicule, invective, and furious letter-writing campaigns to smear reputations.
Throughout his career, Klass was under widespread suspicion—not proven as of this writing—of being an intelligence community asset. That he lived in the Washington, D.C. area, had consistent and exceptional access to the mainstream U.S. media, and worked within the defense community made such suspicion understandable.
People such as Menzel, Klass, and their successors have been important as vocal, media-savvy debunkers who seem independent, but are actually tied to the defense and intelligence community. Their work sets the tone for the mainstream media, which generally follows along happily.
Denial and Ridicule in Service to the State
Today, most professors and journalists—who have nothing to do with the national security state—have internalized the sanctioned opinions. They have learned to discuss UFOs the way a weary parent chastises a child for reading too many comic books. These things are not real. If you speak about them too much or too openly, people may think there is something wrong with you.
That is one reason why the cover-up has stood for so long. Had we followed our own glasnost policy from the beginning, the UFO argument would be over. People would have discussed this problem in the editorial pages, on the nightly news, and over hot dogs at their children’s ball games. They would have concluded that something was there. Except that the architects of the cover-up stumbled upon the twin concepts that enabled them to hide the truth from the people they were sworn to protect. Two pillars, each one lending strength to the other in service of the common goal.
Denying the witnesses. People who saw “flying saucers” were often marginalized and ridiculed. One of the two famous McMinnville Photos from May 1950, strongly believed to be authentic . Photo by Paul Trent.
Denial and Ridicule
Official denial works. When a general or leading scientist explains there is no fire, that the smoke is an illusion, our natural instinct is to believe—despite what the crazy neighbor thinks, sometimes despite the evidence from our own eyes. We want to believe our authority figures.
Ridicule gives denial its power. When official statements are made, language is of the utmost importance. It is easier to smirk at a “flying saucer” than an “unidentified
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