When “Flying Saucers” (as such) appeared in the skies, they were, at first, a national security issue (a matter whose implications Dr Kimberly Engels has recently addressed). As the mystery of their origin and nature persisted, they became as much an object of scientific inquiry. At the same time, their presence became a matter of psychological and sociological interest and even religious significance. Some few, however, have ventured reflections on the social or political dimensions of the phenomenon, among them A. M. Gittlitz and Walker Jaroch.
In his most recent article, Jaroch probes “the leftist instincts driving UAP disclosure.” I must confess I find the thread of Jaroch’s argument as fragile as it is difficult to follow. Nevertheless, he seems to argue that the longstanding hostility to left-leaning thought and activism (be it organized labour, Anarchism, Communism, or Socialism) in the U.S., which, during the Cold War, resulted in some UFO groups being suspected of harbouring Communist sympathies, has led to a suppression of “socialist” thinking, which, Jaroch writes, leaves “most people today without the tools to describe and confront the issues in their lives adequately,” i.e., at least as far as certain corners of social media appear to suggest. For this reason,
For many, disclosure is being conflated with a society where people don’t have to worry about their bills, healthcare and aren’t forced to work jobs they hate.
Disclosure culture is functioning as a surrogate political language, expressing socialist desires without naming them.
The utopia dangled in front of those fascinated by Disclosure by its advocates (including Hal Puthoff, Tom DeLonge, Steven Greer, and Luis Elizondo) is underwritten by exploiting the technology behind UAP, particularly what is said to power them, Zero Point Energy. In general, Disclosure promises, as Jaroch puts it, “a world transformed by hidden alien tech.”
He most clearly makes his point when he writes concerning Disclosure that:
It’s undeniably a con to peddle fantasies of an alien tech utopia to people desperate for real societal change but who lack the knowledge to accurately describe or enact these changes in real life for themselves.
While no longer taboo, socialism is still a dirty word today for many. Yet, what people in the disclosure movement actually want is a more socialist society. They’re asking for affordable lives, accessible healthcare and decreasing the gap between the wealthy and poor. They want a revolution — and they’re being told it’ll come via disclosure.
Surely, Jaroch touches on some truth in his article. Many Americans are anxious for a way out of deepening precarity. Some explicitly look to “socialism,” while others, succumbing to “the politics of despair,” opt for authoritarianism and outright fascism. Those, on the other hand, “desperate for real societal change” without being able to name that change (at least with an -ism) grasp a knot of contradictions even more revealing than Jaroch himself seems to understand.
An obvious contradiction is stated clearly by Jaroch himself: “The real gains of the disclosure movement haven’t been societal — they’ve been commercial.” That is, the peddlers of Disclosure have successfully commodified an idea, ironically selling the promise of a “socialist” utopia. More deeply, however, the utopia alien tech promises is withheld by its monopolization by government or what might be termed today a “deep state.” The idea is hardly new: Philip J. Corso’s The Day After Roswell (1997) made similar claims concerning the origins of the technology that underwrote the digital revolution, chips and fibre optics, for example, in the reverse engineering of debris retrieved from crashed alien spacecraft. What remains unrealized in the present-day Disclosure chatter is that the technological breakthroughs alluded to by Elizondo or Greer would, were they real and disclosed, be no less monopolized and commodified by corporate interests in the same way computer technology was, not to the benefit of society at large but to that of the diminishing 1%. In grasping at what promises deliverance from capitalist exploitation the very nature and workings of that exploitation are overlooked.
But the “socialist desires,” as Jaroch calls them, are even more deeply betrayed by the object of their desire, as the very idea that technology can solve what is essentially a social problem is precisely the idea being sold by the Tech Bros and techo-optimists. Even more fundamentally, Jaroch’s unconscious socialists, the Disclosure hucksters who dupe them, and Silicon Valley all buy into an unquestioned fetishization of technoscience, an unquestioned faith that that which has led to a Sixth Mass Extinction and has disrupted the temperate climate of the Holocene that nurtured the emergence of agriculture and settled, civic life (in a word, civilization) is that which will solve the problems it itself has caused. The Disclosurists dangle the same solution before their dupes that the technologically-invested ruling class dangles before their constituents in general, an imaginary solution (whether fictional in fact or whose facts are only fictionally, i.e., falsely, a solution) to a real problem, the very definition of ideology (in the Marxist sense). Those fascinated by Disclosure are, indeed, “people desperate for real societal change but who lack the knowledge to accurately describe or enact these changes in real life for themselves,” changes not, however, science-fictionally technological but radically and inescapably social.











