If YOU Think Aliens Aren’t Real, You NEED To See This
If YOU Think Aliens Aren’t Real, You NEED To See This
The low hum of London’s afternoon traffic was audible even through the heavy drapes of the studio, but inside, the air was thick with a different kind of tension.
Stephen sat across from his two guests, his fingers steepled, his eyes darting between the older gentleman with the quiet demeanor of a seasoned academic and the younger, sharper man sitting beside him. The cameras drifted on their silent dollies, capturing every flicker of expression.
“If it is released,” Stephen began, his voice dropping into that rhythmic, measured cadence that had captivated millions of listeners worldwide. “If all the information that you’ve heard from your witnesses is released… if they release, you know, craft—alien craft—and they release alien bodies and all of these things… how do you imagine the world would be different?”
The younger man, Stephen’s co-host for the afternoon, leaned forward eagerly. “I think it will lead to a giant technology boom. I think once we’re told, hey, there’s this technology that exists that could revolutionize the way we live… you know, it could lead to anti-gravity technology. It could lead to new energy sources. Solve the energy crisis overnight, right? It could lead to interstellar travel, going farther out. And I think it would have a great psychological effect because, suddenly, you go from the point of saying, ‘Well, maybe we’re the only intelligent species in the universe,’ to getting the idea that this is a universe full of life.”
Stephen nodded slowly, turning his gaze to the older man, Hal, whose expression remained entirely unreadable. “What does that mean for religion?”
“I think all dogmas will just apply to it, you know?” the co-host countered smoothly before Hal could speak. “I think the Vatican’s already gotten ahead of it. They put out a message a couple of years ago—the gist of it was, look, God’s universe and God’s work is vast, and we couldn’t say He wouldn’t have the ability to do that. So from a religious standpoint, and certainly in the case of the Catholic Church, they’ve had very positive views about population being throughout the universe. There’s nothing really countering the fact that there’s other life out there.”
Stephen smiled slightly, a sudden personal curiosity striking him. “Are you guys religious?”
“Not like overly religious,” the co-host said, offering a self-deprecating shrug. “But, you know, my mom’s Irish, grew up going to Catholic school. I went to CCD—Sunday school was called CCD where I grew up. But yeah.”
“Do you believe in God?” Stephen asked him directly.
“I do. I do.”
Stephen turned his eyes back to Hal. “Do you believe in God?”
“I do too. Yeah,” Hal replied, his voice a calm anchor in the room. “And I’m a practicing Catholic.”
“So,” Stephen pressed, his tone genuinely intrigued, “would that mean that you believe God has made all of these aliens as well?”
“That’s my… that’s what my worldview is,” Hal said with a gentle shrug. “Yeah. I would think that I couldn’t say that’s not the case. But, you know, as a scientist, I can’t prove that it is the case. Just on the statistics of it, though, it’s pretty likely.”
The studio lights seemed to grow warmer as the conversation shifted gears, moving from the philosophical to the deeply political. The co-host tapped the armrest of his chair, shifting the narrative.
“You know, an interesting thing happening right now, Stephen, is these people who have been gatekeeping the truth. A lot of them are afraid to come forward and tell the White House what they know because they think they’re going to be villainized. They think the optics around this are such that, if someone’s been covering this up, they’re the villain of the story, right?”
Stephen leaned in. “Right.”
“And so, the White House, the Director of National Intelligence, and the Department of Defense realize this. In the last couple of weeks, they’ve been messaging out to the military and the intelligence community that this is not a witch hunt. It’s not an endeavor to punish anyone. They want to encourage people to come forward, assure them there will be no punishment for being involved in gatekeeping this. They just want to learn the truth and find out where the real evidence sits. If that gets out there enough, it will lead to more people coming forward with the evidence we all want to see.”
Stephen’s brow furrowed. The romantic notion of interstellar travel was one thing, but the reality of a deep-state cover-up was far more grounded—and far more dangerous.
“Earlier on, we talked about how some people feel like their lives are at risk because of what they know,” Stephen said, his voice dropping an octave. “Has there been any instance of anyone being punished for saying anything in this regard?”
“Well, certainly having their clearances pulled or losing their opportunities for advancement,” Hal answered, his clinical detachment making the statement all the more chilling. “We’ve heard stories like that from several people in the intelligence community.”
“Is there anyone you can name that has said that they were threatened or punished in some form because of what they know?”
“Certainly, the number one whistleblower for many people has been David Grusch,” the co-host interjected. “He has outlined the various steps taken against him to basically ruin his career significantly enough that he went to the Inspector General of the Intelligence Community and said, ‘I’m being punished, shoved aside, losing clearances, and so on, because I came out with this data.’ And the IG said, ‘Well, what you provided us is serious and worthy of urgent consideration.’” He paused, letting the weight of his next words hang in the air. “I think a lot of people have had their lives threatened. I’m not certain if anyone has been killed… but I know people have had their lives threatened.”
“And who’s threatening them?” Stephen asked, a chill running down his spine.
“People that are involved in this program referred to as the ‘Legacy Program,'” the co-host said bluntly. “People who think that the evidence should not ever come out.”
“This Legacy Program,” Stephen repeated, wanting to be absolutely clear. “This is a program run within the U.S. government?”
“Elements of it, yes. And also defense contractors.”
“And you think the Legacy Program knows the truth in this regard?”
“Yes,” Hal nodded. “Because they have the firsthand evidence of the crash materials and the bodies. There’s eighty years of data that this group has.”
Stephen looked flabbergasted. “And they haven’t released or leaked that data for the last eighty years? No one’s hacked it?”
“There’d be no advantage,” Hal explained simply. “This program is the epitome of a Special Access Program. I think this program is as off-the-grid as it could possibly be.”
Stephen shook his head, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “It almost seems like there’s nothing that eventually hasn’t come to light that the government has done. I mean, I’ve sat here and interviewed a lot of CIA spies who’ve told me the history of the Agency—how this program lasted for twelve years, and then it came out, and then that program came out… Even some of the stuff that I’ve heard you talk around… what’s it called? Remote viewing.”
“Remote viewing,” Hal confirmed with a faint, knowing smile.
“That was a CIA project,” the co-host added.
Stephen looked directly at Hal, his journalistic skepticism flaring up. “What exactly is remote viewing?”
“Well,” Hal began, crossing his legs comfortably. “The CIA suddenly got concerned because they saw that the Soviets were spending millions of dollars at some of their best institutes to investigate the possible use of, quote, ‘ESP.'”
“What’s ESP?” Stephen asked, playing the proxy for his audience.
“Psychic abilities,” the co-host chimed in. “Extra-sensory perception.”
“Yeah, psychic abilities,” Hal continued. “And so, as it turns out, I was at the Stanford Research Institute at the time. They saw my background, they came to me and said, ‘We’d like for you to look into this. Is there anything to it?’ Because, frankly, no mainstream scientist in America even believed there was such a thing as ESP.”
“Who came to you?” Stephen pressed.
“The CIA.”
“This is in the seventies?”
“Back in the seventies, yes. They approached me and asked me to investigate remote viewing. They asked me to set up a small program—fifty or sixty K, whatever it was. They said, ‘We hope you’ll find this is all nonsense so we can forget about it and don’t have to worry about it.’ Instead, it grew into more than a two-decade program. Millions of dollars. ‘Stargate’ is the label for it that most people know about, because by now, most of the information in the program has been declassified.”
Hal leaned forward, his eyes bright with the memory of the data. “Basically, we just found that people, essentially… just like you have artistic ability, or athletic ability, or musical ability… we found out that remote viewing—this ability to sit in a locked room and pick up accurate information from some place thousands of miles away—is a talent that many people could demonstrate. And so, we ended up actually training Army Intelligence officers at the Army Intelligence and Security Command at Fort Meade on how to do this.”
Stephen paused, staring at Hal as if waiting for the punchline of an elaborate joke. “So, wait. Let me just simplify this for the audience that might not fully understand what we’re talking about. Remote viewing is the idea that I could sit here in London, where we are now, and I could be trained to see what was going on in another part of the world? To make your mind’s eye go to a remote station?”
“Exactly,” Hal said. “I’ll give you a specific example. A Soviet plane that the CIA desperately wanted to get ahold of went down somewhere in Africa. They didn’t know where it was because the pilot had bailed out, and the plane just flew on autopilot until it ran out of gas. Our satellites couldn’t find it. So, we got two of our best remote viewers—one that worked for the Air Force and one that worked for my organization—and we said, ‘Okay, here’s a map of Africa. Where’s that damn plane? We’ve got to go in and get it before the Soviets do.’ They put an X on the map that was within three miles of where the plane actually went down, out of hundreds of thousands of square miles. And the CIA went in and recovered the plane.”
Hal paused, letting the implication settle. “By the way, there’s an audio recording of President Jimmy Carter telling that exact story post-presidency.”
“Yeah,” the co-host muttered in agreement.
Stephen rubbed his temples. “Again, this sounds like it’s impossible. It sounds completely bananas. It sounds like something out of an X-Men comic book. It sounds crazy.”
“Well, I was practical about it,” Hal said with a soft laugh. “Skeptics would often say to us, ‘Well, if they’re so psychic, why aren’t they rich? Why aren’t they playing the stock market?’ So, we set up a little program on a challenge to predict silver futures.”
Stephen blinked. “The value of silver?”
“Yeah, the value of silver on a daily basis. Was it going to go up, or was it going to go down? We had an investor who said, ‘Okay, if you set up a little program like that for thirty days, I’ll bet on what your remote viewers say. I’ll put the money in, and I’ll give your institute ten percent of what I make.’ We said fine. To make a long story short, he made two hundred and sixty thousand dollars in those thirty days. We got our ten percent, which was twenty-six thousand dollars. So, people could actually, in this case, look into the future by twenty-four hours, generate a description of what they were going to see, and handle it the following day.”
“Presumably not everybody,” Stephen said, his logical mind searching for the catch. “How many people did you have do that experiment?”
“We had seven in that specific experiment.”
“And how many of them were successful?”
“Six of the seven generated really good, highly accurate data.”
“So, are those six people now rich?” Stephen asked, half-joking.
“Well, I don’t know,” Hal smiled. “Some of them may have followed up on it. But remember, we picked them because we had learned that almost anybody can do this if properly trained. We were actually raising money for a school that was being put together, so I just went to the school’s board of directors and said, ‘Okay, I’m going to give you a crash course over the weekend in the exact type of remote viewing we train intelligence officers to do.’ And they were the ones who did it. They all knew what I did for a living.”
Stephen shook his head in disbelief. “And this program, Stargate, got actionable intelligence?”
“So much actionable intelligence,” Hal said, “that we started briefing the Director of the CIA on a regular basis. I personally briefed all the way up to Bill Casey.”
“So, does it still exist?” Stephen asked, leaning over the table. “This program, in any capacity? Remote viewing within the government?”
Hal’s expression turned deadpan. “If it does, you wouldn’t hear about it.”
“Why?”
“Because it would be a black, highly classified program. We wouldn’t want our adversaries to know exactly how we might be getting access to their most sensitive data.”
“But you just told us,” Stephen countered.
“People can choose not to believe it. And that’s fine,” Hal said mildly.
“But aren’t you under some sort of non-disclosure contract?”
“Well, as it turns out, the CIA and the DIA finally declassified the program at the level it was operating at back then. You can go straight to the CIA FOIA reading room right now, search for it, and you can pull up all the official documents yourself. But my work was originally a Top Secret, Special Access Program.”
The room fell into a brief silence, the weight of the historical reality clashing with the sheer absurdity of the concepts.
“There’s a part of me,” Stephen said slowly, choosing his words with care, “that goes, listen… if people could do remote viewing, and see into other parts of the world, or predict the things that you’re saying… if it was trainable, everything—like, life as we know it—would be completely flipped on its head. I mean, I think it’s unreasonable to think that when Stargate became public, the US government just stopped remote viewing. If it worked, I wouldn’t stop if I was the US government. I think it just went underground. Moved to a different agency.”
“I think so too,” the co-host agreed. “It went underground.”
“But you were training people to do it,” Stephen said, pointing a finger at Hal. “Train me. How do you train someone?”
Hal laughed. “A number of the military intelligence officers that we trained have now left the military, and they actually run civilian training courses.”
Stephen turned his eyes to his co-host. “Do you believe it?”
“I do,” the co-host said without hesitation. “At first, I thought it just sounded too much like something in a comic book, right? But the more I read about Stargate in the declassified documents, the more I started to realize how seriously the government took it. And then, eventually… I really don’t want to get into the fine details of this, but eventually, I got connected with someone who has done remote viewing for the government. And they did a demonstration for me that completely blew my mind.”
He leaned in closer to Stephen. “Because you would think, if anyone was capable of doing remote viewing, they could just go on the internet, make one undeniable prediction or do one video, and they would literally be considered superhuman. People would probably think they were a deity or a spiritual leader. But what the researchers found was that this seems to be an action that is just a natural part of the human makeup. It isn’t like they’re a super-deity or godlike. It’s something that people can learn to do, just like they can learn to play the piano.”
“Maybe it was an ancient skill set,” Hal added thoughtfully. “Now, psychiatrists and neurophysiologists are beginning to study how consciousness operates in the brain. And once you get into quantum theory and quantum entanglement, there are elements that suggest you could have evidence of connection beyond just our physical structure. It could be rationalized with a quantum connection, basically—moving your mind’s eye to another location.”
The co-host nodded aggressively. “Which also goes to Hal’s later work. He started with Stargate, and then he got into UAPs. The overlap that I find absolutely fascinating is some of these recovered craft from crashes. The reports from people involved say that a lot of these vehicles don’t have any control panels in them.”
Stephen’s eyes widened. “No control panels?”
“None. They’re basically empty other than seats. Which suggests that maybe there’s some sort of direct mind-machine interface controlling these craft.”
“I did wonder about the crafts,” Stephen admitted, his voice dropping to a contemplative murmur. “I thought, you know, if I was an advanced civilization, and I was that smart, why would I send biological life to these planets when I could just send automated craft? Why am I sending fragile biological entities?”
“Maybe they’re manufactured biological life,” the co-host suggested. “Maybe they’re the equivalent of bio-drones. Maybe they’re not even sentient in the way we understand it.”
“It’s true,” Stephen conceded.
“But the remote viewing stuff opens up a lot of possibilities,” Hal noted. “As part of that CIA program, we found that people could mentally affect physical quantum devices that were totally shielded by superconducting materials.”
“Tell him that story, Hal,” the co-host urged. “That particular story.”
Hal smiled warmly. “Yeah, we had a quote, ‘psychic,’ so-called. I brought him to Stanford, and I was highly skeptical at the time. I told him, ‘Okay, we’ve got this super-isolated experiment where there’s a tiny quantum chip deep inside layers of electrical shielding, magnetic shielding, and superconducting shielding. We want to see if you can affect it.’ And he did. This apparatus was supposed to be totally non-affectable by anything in the known universe. In fact, it was developed by the Navy to look for quarks and deep subatomic particles. It was supposed to be completely impervious.”
“And he influenced it?” Stephen asked.
“He influenced it. And when I say he influenced it, I’m not just saying there was a little blip that you could kind of read into if you wanted to see it. No. It was a system that ordinarily just produced a steady, predictable oscillating signal. When he focused on it, he completely stopped the oscillation. And then, he made the oscillation go twice as fast. Of course, the poor graduate student whose entire life and thesis depended on this machine not being affected from the outside was absolutely terrified.” Hal chuckled at the memory. “But that raised a massive national security issue for the intelligence community. They thought, ‘Gee, does that mean if we hide our top-secret documents inside a superconducting safe, the Soviets might be able to read them or alter them anyway?’ In fact, later on, the American remote viewers actually got together with the Soviet remote viewers during a period of detente, and they traded war stories and did joint experiments together.”
Stephen sat back, stunned. “I think I’m naturally skeptical, because I’m skeptical of all things until I see proof. But I’m often proven wrong. My fiancee, she believes in lots of things I don’t believe in. And so frequently she’s been proven right that I’ve learned to remain open-minded to things in life. So, I think that’s where I stand. I remain open-minded. On the balance of probability, if you ask me, ‘Do I think there’s other life in the universe?’—I think it would be crazy to say there wasn’t.”
“Right. Exactly,” Hal agreed.
“But,” Stephen countered, “has there been life that has arrived here that we’ve recovered? I just… I would need more evidence.”
“I think that’s the absolute right attitude,” Hal said approvingly. “And we’re hoping that with the release of documents that’s starting to happen now, the public will finally get that evidence. In the absence of actually getting your hands on the data, it’s entirely reasonable to be skeptical.”
“Absolutely,” the co-host said. “I do think, though, that the current administration is heavily focused on following through with the directive to gather all the evidence within the possession of the federal government—the agencies, the military branches—and figure out what can safely be declassified. I think they’re taking it so seriously that we’re going to get tranches of much more meaningful evidence soon. And I think eventually, we’ll get to that moment that we’ve all only ever seen in movies, where a sitting president steps to a microphone, looks into the camera, and tells the world: ‘We are not alone in the universe.’ I think we’re going to get there.”
Hal nodded slowly. “I think so too. Just a matter of time.”
Stephen looked at both of them, his mind racing toward the final, ultimate question. “Does it change the meaning of life if that becomes the case? Does it mean anything for us as humans? What do you think the meaning of life is, Hal? And do you think we should change our behavior in any way if this moment does occur?”
Hal looked down at his hands for a moment, then back up at Stephen, his eyes filled with a quiet, profound wisdom.
“I think if we found out that there was life throughout the universe, developed in all kinds of unimaginable forms, then that forces us to take a brand-new look at what it actually means to be human. We ought to think about interacting with these other species, seeing what we can learn from them, and what they might learn from us. It just opens up a whole new view of what reality is. I mean… I’ve got fifteen grandkids. They have the opportunity to grow up in a universe where they know it is teeming with life, and that is a incredibly exciting kind of world to inherit.”
“I think it could also be the one thing that could finally unify all of humanity,” the co-host added, his voice tinged with a rare note of optimism. “Ronald Reagan gave a great speech during his presidency at the United Nations where he said he often thinks about how a threat from outside this world would force all of humanity to come together, to realize what we have in common rather than focusing on our differences, moving us past the conflicts of the moment. Now, that might be wishful thinking, and it might be naive, but it also might actually be the one catalyst that could line people up on the same team. Has it changed how you think about the meaning of life?” he asked, turning the question back to his co-host.
The younger man took a deep breath. “Between what I’ve learned about the reality of the UAP situation, the existence of non-human life, and what I’ve witnessed with remote viewing… it’s made me realize that our Western, present-day view of reality is fundamentally incomplete. We think we know everything there is to know about life and how the universe works, and we just don’t. When you’re honest with yourself and you look back at human history, every single time a civilization thought they had everything figured out, they were proven wrong pretty quickly. It’s made me open to a lot more possibilities than I ever would have been even just ten years ago.”
Hal smiled, a warm, hopeful expression breaking across his weathered face. “I think it would be a renaissance. A complete renaissance in our attitudes toward life, toward each other, and toward everything.”
Stephen looked out at the cameras, then back at his guests, feeling the profound weight of the conversation lifting into a sense of grand mystery. He faced the main lens, offering a warm smile to the millions watching through their screens.
“If you love this channel and you watch our episodes,” Stephen said, his voice echoing the intimacy of the room, “please do me a huge favor. Become part of the fifteen percent of our viewers who have hit that subscribe button. It helps us bring you these incredible stories. Thank you for listening, and we’ll see you next time.”
