SP9 - Ouellet commenting on Disclosure

Demanding the disclosure of what does not exist is, in itself, an interesting anomaly about an anomaly (i.e., the UFO phenomenon). The (il)logic of disclosure has its own internal dynamics woven into the collective psyche of the nuts-and-bolts ufologists. To paraphrase Isaac Asimov, the disclosure movement is the last refuge of the ETH ufologists’ incompetence. Early on in the history of ufology, the door was open to find an exit from seriously pondering about this difficult and elusive anomaly called UFO; the government knows everything, so let’s pressure them to reveal everything. But who would admit in ufology that disclosure is an exit strategy?

Then, disclosure did happen. In spite of what many people may say, the disclosure of the largest UFO database in the 1970s, called Project Bluebook, provided a lot of useful information, and people like Hynek made good use of it. Since, other countries like Belgium, Canada, France, Russia, and the United Kingdom have done the same, providing a wealth of information. Interestingly, all these countries, including the United States, came more or less to the same conclusion: there is a small minority of UFO reports that are not explainable, but these do not represent a threat to national security and no useful technological advances can be found. These multinational conclusions are in line with the “nil” return of 65 years of ETH ufology. As public agencies are not mystery investigation organizations, it is not their business to spend public funds on researching anomalies. But who would admit in ufology that the governments of the world and ETH ufology produced similar evidence that there is nothing tangible to work with?

The disclosure movement is not only about UFOs, but it is allegedly about truth and democracy. Were the various governments not fully truthful over the years about UFO? Certainly. Did those lies really hid anything of substance? No. Would more of those revealed lies about UFO change anything? Very unlikely. By comparing themselves with those who unveil real horror stories (e.g. Watergate, unlawful medical experiments, various forms of corruption, etc.), the disclosure ufologists hope to look good, but their “stuff” is truly insignificant. Outside the people really involved in ufology, very few care about disclosure because, indeed, it is insignificant. But who would admit in ufology that disclosure is about nothing significant?

Individuation is about becoming a full-fledge individual, with his or her conscious and unconscious mind fully aligned to become totality. Individuation is about becoming aware of what one really believes at the unconscious level, so he or she can stop self-BSing at the conscious level. It means accepting oneself. But individuation is a two-way street, as it also means dealing with dysfunctional unconscious beliefs with the help of the therapist. It is about aligning the inner and outer truth, whatever it may be, to live a fulfilling life. The collective unconscious of ufology is light years away from individuation. If anything, it looks more like a collective neurosis.


Can the UFO phenomenon foster collective individuation, if the attitude is right? The small minority of UFO cases that remain unexplainable should be seen as an opportunity, rather than as a challenge, for collective growth. It encourages us to think much beyond the confine of our taken-for-granted assumptions. Its elusiveness is a constant reminder that short-cuts like “what else could it be but aliens in their spaceships” never work in science as in life in general. If the phenomenon is essentially a grand scale psi event, then it becomes our mirror, an opportunity to face our collective unspoken fears. The phenomenon oftentimes becomes woven into the political structures of our societies, reminding us that some are more equal than others; our societies remain profoundly hierarchical and create its lot of unfairness. The phenomenon does not discriminate, over time, reaching a small tiny fraction of every social classes and continent, reminding us of our common humanity. It calls upon us to be compassionate for those who were profoundly shaken by the experience.

Could we then say that the phenomenon is some sort of mythical process, guiding us towards collective individuation? It is the thesis of some. But for those acquainted with the humanities, this teleological thesis does not fare well when we look at our collective history. In the end, collective individuation is a non-sense. Individuation implies that one, by becoming totality, is not dependent on others to be. Communities, when they become truly totality, are arguably comparable to some healthy pre-modern societies. Large societies aspiring to become totality invariably became totalitarian; hardly a step forward. From all ages there were anomalies giving us opportunities to look at ourselves in a different way. Some societies, some generations chose to ignore them, others gave them heterogeneous interpretations (i.e., these must be the work of the gods), rarely were these anomalies interpreted in an autonomous way (i.e., about us, by us). These anomalies provide us with a mirror for the present; that’s it. The notion of us “evolving “ towards something (i.e. the teleological thesis) is only a projection of our collective unspoken fears; such teleological belief is in fact a symptom of a lack of individuation.