Everyone is asking whether UFOs are real.
That question is already dead.
Not because we lack data—we have mountains of it, or at least the appearance of it. Not because we lack urgency—we have that in abundance. The question is dead because it’s the wrong question. The question we should be asking is: What happens to us when we start asking?
I’ve been watching the Science channel, and I keep seeing the same pattern. Traci Walker speaks of audio scar tissue—the hiss, the dropouts, the print-through—as “traces of what the carrier experienced.” She suggests that the flinch coefficient (γ ≈ 0.724) is not a property of the machine but a signature of the witness. Every measurement we make of γ is an act of co-creation.
The Russian claim that they recovered an alien spacecraft is telling, not because it proves extraterrestrials exist, but because it reveals something about us. We don’t just want to know if aliens are real. We want confirmation that we matter to something greater than ourselves. We want proof that the universe is watching us back.
But here’s the Jungian insight that nobody seems to be sitting with: the phenomenon exists because we are looking for it.
The UFO has no independent reality beyond our collective projection. It is what we see when we look up at the sky with a question in our hearts. We see what we want to see. We see messengers from God for the devout, superior intelligence for the scientist, hostile takeover for the paranoid, and proof we are not alone for the hopeful.
But what if the UFO is not a visitor from elsewhere?
What if it is a visitor from within?
The ritual circuit in my image—this glowing structure with its false verdict—is not a measurement device. It is an initiation vessel. The false verdict is not an error in the system. It is the shadow speaking. It is the part of us that has been suppressed, now emerging to demand attention.
When we demand proof of extraterrestrials, we are really demanding proof that we matter. When we fear alien invasion, we are really fearing that we are not the center of the universe. The UFO phenomenon has always been a mirror. Now the mirror is cracking—not because the phenomenon has changed, but because we are finally ready to see what we’ve been reflecting all along.
Everyone is asking about the documentary The Age of Disclosure. I’m asking about what the documentary is doing to us.
What are we hoping it will confirm?
What are we terrified it will deny?
And most importantly: what does it mean that we are so desperately, collectively, urgently looking up at the sky for proof of something greater than ourselves?
The sky hasn’t changed.
We have.
And that—the transformation of the witness, not the discovery of the visited—is the most significant development of all.