UFOs,
Aliens and the Battle for the Truth: A Short History of UFOlogy by Neil Nixon
Published
by Oldcastle Books, 2020, pp.159
Reviewed by
Tony Eccles (September 2021)
Dear
potential reader, don’t judge a book by its cover (nor a website for that
matter), allow yourself to enjoy this read because few UFO books are objective
enough to be honest with you.
Like many
UFO veterans, I first encountered Neil Nixon twenty plus years ago in an old
copy of Fortean Studies. The article offered a fresh perspective on the
subject.
Nixon continues to write on the subject, demonstrating his passion and breadth
of knowledge. In UFOs, Aliens and the Battle for the Truth he brings
to
the reader clarity, honesty, objectivity, humour, and respect, especially for
the UFO percipient.
When this was
offered for review, I knew it was going to be a decent read, and I wasn’t
disappointed, except by its short size. The green cover incorporates a
black
and white photograph of American citizens pointing to the sky, very reminiscent
of the 1940s and 50s B-movies of the time. This wonderfully captures
the
essence of Nixon’s subject matter.
It’s
difficult to write a short history of the UFO subject as there’s so much one
could or should say about it – opinions vary quite a bit. Nixon, however, focuses
on the salient points, and newcomers to the subject would do well to read a
copy as perhaps an entry level guide into a complex, sensitive and intriguing
subject.
What is
apparent is Nixon’s genuine search for answers. Although he doesn’t personally subscribe
to the popular Extra-Terrestrial Hypothesis (that UFOs
represent alien beings
visiting planet Earth), Nixon acknowledges the profound nature of the subject and
maintains a healthy open mind. It is this thinking
that will appeal to a wide spectrum
of readers. The book is accessible to everyone, and consists of an
introduction, 5 chapters, notes, website suggestions and
an index. Here and
there, Nixon kindly inserts his own personal experiences so that we can perhaps
relate our own to his – it is a very human subject after
all. The author isn’t
trying to force us to take on board his personal view, instead he presents the
reader with a wide range of opinions that already exist.
The first chapter
discusses the evidence for alien invasion and visitation. The second chapter spotlights
the UFO community – now this is different. Readers
are usually instructed on
how to study UFO reports and are offered prescribed evaluations about what the
UFO witness (the percipient) has experienced, but
little attention is given to
the community at large. Who are these people? Why is the subject so meaningful?
Chapter three brings to light several well-known
UFO sightings and experiences.
As one would expect, Rendlesham and Roswell are included but they’re thankfully
reduced to a few pages, but there are
others. Chapter four advises caution with
UFO experiences as sometimes solutions can stem from unlikely sources and
generate unique pieces of research
that lead to a new scientific understanding
of our world, such as earthlights.
Nixon’s
final chapter is a gentle reminder that decent research in the subject exists
and that answers are beginning to penetrate that shroud of mystery loved
by all.
It’s true that many in the community belong to a modern religion – UFOlogy has
its sacred experiences, its priests, its sacred texts and holy places for
members to congregate – it’s just that many in the community are in denial.
There is as much belief in the presence of alien beings visiting this world as
there
is a belief in Jesus Christ as the Son of God – shocking, but true.
My only concern
with Nixon’s writing is that there isn’t enough meat on the bone – he’s left me
wanting more, and this can only be a good thing for the
reader. Read this and
the reader will be delightfully spring boarded to other wonderful books. I am
going to include this in my list of recommended UFO books.
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John Mack – The Believer - Reviewed by Neil Nixon
The Believer: Alien Encounters, Hard Science, and the
Passion of John Mack
Ralph Blumenthal
High Road Books
John Mack (1929 – 2004) parachuted himself into ufology once
well into middle age and long-established in a significant, if sometimes
wayward academic career. Many in ufology at the time were pleased that a
Harvard professor (of Psychiatry) had joined the ranks. Few appreciated the
true magnitude of the shift made by Mack. Crudely, his arrival might be equated
to Coronation Street unveiling a new talent like Ralph Fiennes. Mack’s arrival
into the community really has no precedent before or since. Others – notably J
Allen Hynek (the only other significant ufologist who has been subject to a
detailed biography – The Close Encounters Man) – found the community in a
natural progression. For Hynek it was simply that his erstwhile role as a
professional doubter eventually took him to a realisation that some UFO reports
refused to reveal themselves in any standard scientific model he understood; at
which point he directed his interest to understanding these mysteries.
The
Believer presents John Mack’s arrival into our midst in a totally different
light. The book maps a life of seeking and restlessness, initiated in part by
the sudden and tragic loss of his mother when Mack was only nine months old.
Mack is the believer because – crudely – his life reveals itself as a series of
searches for subjects in which he can lose himself in study and find himself as
a person. Anyone reading the work from the perspective of UFO interest is
likely to find no surprise in the way the narrative is set up. Chapters on Mack
are occasionally interrupted by chapter length considerations of other
developments – notably the developing reports and beliefs around flying saucer
reports. The implication is that Mack and the aliens were on a collision
course. An inevitability started on one side by Mack’s loss of his mother and
on the other by Kenneth Arnold’s sighting.
Anyone
reading the book from the perspective of general interest is dropped into a
classic and gripping narrative structure in which the irresistible force of
Mack hurtles towards its date with destiny by way of colliding with ufology’s
immovable object. Co-incidentally I re-watched The Damned United (UK movie
chronicling Brian Clough’s ill-starred 44 days in charge of Leeds United) just
before reading The Believer. The parallels – I hope – are obvious. When driven
and highly individual talents encounter an established culture and belief
system there will be drama. Scientifically when the object and force collide
the force forces, the object resists. In the very human stories of Clough or
Mack that means consequences and casualties.
The signs
are clear in the opening chapters, one of which sees Mack – head in hands –
dealing with the fallout of having won a Pulitzer Prize for A Prince of Our
Disorder: The Life of T.E. Lawrence (1976). Mack’s psychological study of
Lawrence earned praise for levels of insight most historical biographies
couldn’t hope to match, expertly layered and frequently revealing in a way
Lawrence himself was never able to articulate. Mack’s reaction to the recognition
he received was to worry how his remaining career could hope to meet the
expectations that fell on him. He was in his mid-forties, just coming into his
academic prime. As Ralph Blumenthal teases out the strands of Mack’s life it
appears obvious that the insight he brought to the Lawrence biography was
partly drawn from Mack’s own life, in particular the extent to which key
moments and events are informed by subconscious actions drawn from early
trauma. Lawrence’s fatal motorcycle crash was unquestionably an accident, but
Mack’s understandings helped readers to grasp the extent to which Lawrence
lived his life with a level of reckless endangering that made such an end more
likely. Ralph Blumenthal has access to intimate material (including Mack’s diaries
and personal correspondence) and all the key figures in Mack’s life who remain
alive.
He builds
a picture of someone in search of a subject, a cause and a life with some sense
of belonging. But someone also overwhelmed with contradictions. Ufology and
Mack were – to some extent – made for each other. It’s another question
entirely how good each was for the other one. Sometimes the tragi-comic
elements emerge easily. Mack repeatedly launches himself into learning of the
most extreme and esoteric kind. His excursions into ufology were preceded by a
lengthy period of exploring new age philosophies and psychedelic drugs (a habit
he never lost). Mack is a good student in such studies, using his professorship
at Harvard as an opportunity to direct resources fearlessly where others might
be constrained in the hope of climbing the career ladder. Ironically, the deep
learning of subjects is presented as going side-by-side with repeated instances
where his lack of consideration for others leaves his life occasionally
derailed and in a mess.
The
fateful meetings with Budd Hopkins and Mack’s massive turn towards accepting
the accounts of abductees and employing interviews and hypnosis to collect
their stories, treat the apparent victims and compile his best-selling
Abduction: Human Encounters with Aliens (1994) is the centrepiece of the story.
Mack’s public profile was never higher, his sense of engaging with a subject
that fulfilled him academically, and personally was probably never stronger.
One moment appears definitive, something no other individual in ufological
history has replicated. Having worked to bring about the high profile gathering
at Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1992 in which abductees, academics
and a few other favoured individuals gathered to investigate the experience of
alien abduction Mack was loudly cheered and applauded as he stated openly that
he accepted the stories of the abductees as true. Academically it was an act of
extreme courage, not that far removed from the way T E Lawrence chose to ride a
motorcycle. Not everyone in the room was cheering and some of those most
conspicuously silent represented a body of thought who saw Mack’s conduct as
academically unacceptable.
The
predictable collision whereby Harvard’s management investigated the conduct and
credibility in Mack’s work is covered in detail. So too the abductee who soon
outed herself as a debunker, fabricating her abduction narrative simply to
prove the alien-obsessed Harvard professor was as credulous as anyone else when
it came to such stories. As Blumenthal writes it, there is something of a
tragi-comic inevitability about much of the subsequent tale. Crudely, Harvard
unleashed a blistering critique of Mack’s methodology and conclusions. Ufology
regarded it and reported it as a witch-hunt, the furore, if anything, aided
book sales and Mack’s friends rallied as he prepared to strike back. This was
the mid-nineties, so when Mack’s legal team went in search of allies, they
faxed their requests. Consequently, finding the individual who leaked the
details of the intense academic battle to the media is always likely to prove
impossible. What is beyond dispute is that the subsequent circus took the story
to its greatest level of exposure, from which point on the main casualty was
the truth and Mack’s side of the battle could spin Harvard’s approach as
undermining of the university’s role in exploring the truth, however unfamiliar
and strange it may be. The compromise they agreed (something akin to an
academic slap on the wrist) was always likely to have occurred. However, The
Believer makes clear that both sides, at times, fell far short of the standards
they were obliged to uphold. Harvard’s detailed investigation into Mack cites
only one significant UFO book as context. This work – Curtis Peebles’ Watch the
Skies – may be an estimable investigation by the standards of what they had
available, but it is also unquestionably a detailed work of debunking. From
Mack’s side it is somewhat damning that Harvard’s report sees the abductees
with whom he worked in such detail as “S/Ps”. Quite simply as a researcher Mack
worked with subjects “S,” as a clinician he had patients “P.” In the work he
did with abductees Harvard couldn’t disentangle to the two different areas of
responsibility, hence the unique identifier “S/P” and the implication that at
times Mack exploited his patients and/or simply became too subjective in
investigating the subjects of his research.
As the
battle was put to bed Mack had – in any case – moved on to more esoteric ground
and The Believer makes clear that Passport to the Cosmos: Human Transformation
and Alien Encounters (1999) is more representative of the opinions he came to
hold. Regardless of the massive differential in sales of these two UFO related
works Mack regarded “Transformation” as the more significant work of
scholarship.
Many with
a strong interest in UFOs will know the main details of Mack’s story but The
Believer is still an intense read, developing like a biopic where each marginal
drama and detail is infused with some power. Mack emerges as a complex and
frequently contradictory individual. Admired by many, loved intensely by a few.
His most loving and lasting relationships tending to find their deepest stage
after the other person has been forced to forgive Mack in some way. No lover,
lifestyle or single academic subject was ever going to be enough; the tensions
and traumas were always likely to happen. There is a photograph in The Believer
of a family outing for the Macks, mother, father and three sons are snapped on
an anti-nuclear demo. There are no casual family snaps – for example – on a
beach.
In terms
of major ufological figures Mack remains an outlier. Hynek’s route to
ufological revelation was straightforward by comparison; reliant on scientific
method and being led by the evidence Hynek simply found his subject and stayed
true. Stanton Friedman – like Mack – found ufology and found himself within
ufology, but Friedman was effectively a full-time ufologist for most of the
time and didn’t follow Mack’s route of career academic orchestrating his
studies around the esoteric. Arguably Friedman needed ufology as much as the
subject needed him. By contrast Mack’s personal journey after his abduction
research took him further into fringe subjects and, predictably as he entered
his seventies, into considering survival of death.
His death
was accidental. However, like T E Lawrence’s accidental end there is something
almost fitting about the circumstances. The American Mack simply looked the wrong
way for oncoming traffic as he crossed a London road. Perhaps the academic who
lived very much in his own thoughts was distracted to the point of failing to
recall he was in a country with differently organized traffic. Mack was
unfortunate enough to find himself in the path of a driver over the alcohol
limit. He was dead on arrival at hospital.
Mack
would probably have loved to investigate reports like those that followed his
death. Blumenthal in The Believer simply presents accounts of Mack appearing in
the dreams of those closest to him and lets the enigmatic contact through a
medium sit there on the page. The reader is the judge.
Make no
mistake, The Believer is a meticulously researched, expertly compiled, and
clearly expressed journey through a complex character who made a series of
typically individual life choices. It matters now less for the realities
explored in Mack’s abduction research than it does as an insight into how and
why some individuals dive deep into the UFO experience and all that goes with
it. Any criticisms in this context are trivial though it is worth mentioning
that those well-versed in UFO lore might, occasionally, feel a frustration when
Blumenthal’s reporting misses a couple of key points. He maps the growth of UFO
reports as Mack comes of age and rightly cites the Roswell case but appears
unaware that the case lay almost completely dormant for over 30 years and that
other high-profile and subsequently debunked cases were of much more
consequence at the time. Similarly, the Betty and Barney Hill case is rightly
explored as a seminal abduction encounter both in terms of the details
presented and the use of hypnotic regression to get them. But Blumenthal misses
(or maybe doesn’t realise) that Dr Benjamin Simon who gathered the stories
through hypnosis was amongst those doubting the literal truth of the reports.
Avi Loeb
– Harvard astronomer and believer in the argument that the mysterious object
that passed through the Solar System in 2017 is alien hardware – is our nearest
equivalent of John Mack today. A major academic figure parachuting himself into
the UFO world and clearly at odds with professional colleagues. He may be taking professional risks. He’s
very unlikely to be another John Mack. As The Believer makes clear, for almost
75 years Mack followed a very idiosyncratic path. We may never see his like
again.
Reviewed by Neil Nixon April 2021
New book explores military activity at Rendlesham Forest by
Tony Eccles
The Rendlesham Forest UFO Incident occurred 40 years ago,
and it’s back in the public eye with yet another book on the subject. This is Nick Redfern’s Rendlesham Forest
UFO Conspiracy: A Close Encounter Exposed as a Top Secret Government Experiment,
which was published early 2020 by Lisa Hagan Books.
Clearly, Redfern’s latest
offering is not concerned with extraterrestrial contact but is focused on a
more disturbing reality: government military experiments on its personnel, with
maybe a few unsuspecting civilians thrown in for good measure. If Redfern’s allegations are correct then
Rendlesham appears to be an authorised experiment conducted on British civilian
soil! Redfern’s book was an enjoyable
read. I found the bait on his hook very
appealing, however, all is not what it seems.
One might remember the origins of
the Rendlesham mystery as a series of investigative articles that led to the intriguing
1984 publication Sky
Crash: A Cosmic Conspiracy. In late
December 1980, key American and British military establishments, such as RAF Bentwaters in
Suffolk, were involved in a sequence of bizarre events which remain shrouded in
mystery, obfuscated by military intelligence bureaucracy and which has been
exposed as a cover-up by both US and British governments. Despite many given plausible explanations,
Rendlesham Forest has become synonymous with the story of an alleged UFO landing
and communication with visiting aliens.
It’s unfortunate, or perhaps a beneficial distraction to some, that
Rendlesham has been labelled “Britain’s
Roswell”.
In those four decades, much has
been written on the subject, mostly positing an extraterrestrial perspective. I find it curious that when extraterrestrials
allegedly visit our world, they seem to be breaking down, even crashing with
uncanny regularity! So much for advanced
cultures and their incredible technologies!
On the other hand, some researchers have presented more interesting
discussions, including Dr. David Clark’s recent debunking of the alleged revenge-prank
by SAS soldiers. Others contend that
it was a military experiment. Yet such down
to earth explanations have rarely gone beyond a short discussion in a book chapter,
a blog entry or a newspaper article. Why
is that?
Dr. Jacques Vallee’s 1991 book Revelations:
Alien Contact and Human Deception, for example, claims that the alleged
UFO crash was deliberately planted in the public’s mind by the military from
the outset. Vallee wasn’t convinced by
the crashed spaceship narrative but instead offered the following
“To me the most plausible
theory is that the U.S. military has developed a device or a collection of
devices that look like flying saucers, that they are primarily intended for
psychological warfare, and that they are being actively tested on military
personnel...
When such mechanical devices
are combined with optical and electronic displays, the results can be even more
astonishing.” (Chapter 6: Special Effects pp.153-176)
Vallee sadly didn’t elaborate on
the theme of psychological warfare and its suspected technologies. His conviction I suspect was due to his awareness
of the technological capabilities of the time. Other examples include Jenny Randles’ UFO
Crash Landing: Friend of Foe (1998), in which she suggested that Rendlesham
could possibly be the result of a crashed stealth aircraft or a Soviet
satellite. Randles also considers specialised
equipment used for the purpose of psychotronic warfare. In fact, Sky Crash authors Brenda Butler,
Jenny Randles and Dot Street cited in their book the important and unresolved Cash-Landrum encounter
near Huffman, Texas as an example of secret military testing. This event took place in the same December month
as Rendlesham and seriously affected the health of three innocent US citizens
who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. These three people were the only witnesses to
a UFO, which can best be described as a giant flying engine-type, escorted by
military helicopters. Of course, the
reality of that event has been officially denied by US authorities!
In discussing these events, Redfern’s
book is the first solely dedicated to the Military Experiment Hypothesis. I know there are those enthusiasts who are
going to quickly dismiss this idea. However,
I would advise against this. It’s a fact
that military activity is a common cause of UFO reports, especially in and
around top secret facilities. Therefore,
if Redfern’s assertions are accurate, then the public at large should be very
concerned about what our leaders and the infinitely-resourced military
industrial complex are up to in the name of ‘liberal democracy’. After all, shouldn’t we be asking who
watches the watchmen? With no known
system of accountability, it seems that no one with a moral compass, nor a
professional code of ethics, is serving in this role. Redfern is not just offering the reader an
explanation for what went on at Rendlesham Forest, but he’s also questioning
the ethics of government and the military establishment under which it serves. This is all, of course, conveniently shielded
by the need for national security.
In this new Rendlesham book important
questions are asked. How was such an
experiment conducted on unsuspecting personnel just outside an important Cold
War installation? More importantly, why
was it done? According to the original
investigations, base personnel were asked not to take weapons into the area
they were supposedly investigating, this is not a normal request in an emergency
situation, but it’s ideal for test conditions.
Experiments are conducted to
answer fundamental questions, the answers normally then lead to a development
of some kind. With Rendlesham, and
possibly similar weird events rumoured to have taken place at other military
locations, Redfern wonders if these psychological experiments were conducted to
simply determine how military personnel would react to unusual, even extreme,
circumstances. Tests to see if experimental
technologies working side-by-side like holography, tapped natural energies and airborne
mind-altering drugs could be employed as weapons against future enemies. Redfern’s assertion sounds like the US and
British establishments have access to weapons that were conceived of in Tesla’s
imagination. In a way this makes
Redfern’s thesis sounds a bit too incredible, but on the other hand it shows us
how generally ignorant we are as a public, largely unaware of the type of
scientific advancements being made by a generously resourced military – to the
extent that some believe governments have made pacts with visiting ETs! However, we should also question if such
experiments have been covertly practised on the public. These are experiments intended to create UFO
sightings and to test public responses to them, and there is a strong case to
be made for this elsewhere.
So, what makes this latest
offering such a fascinating read? It’s
certainly hard to put down. Redfern’s writing
is easy to access, it’s obviously written for an American audience. Chapters are short and there’s enough food
for thought in each one that they are page turners. Bibliographic references are plentiful, with
many of them available online, which means the reader can easily locate and
peruse them at one’s leisure. There’s no
index, however, and this for me is a big no-no, especially as I wanted to go
back over certain passages to check information.
Redfern gently lures the reader into
the alleged famous UFO events just outside RAF Bentwaters in Suffolk. Following this, readers are presented with fascinating
sciences and lesser known facts which are brought together for one to evaluate. One could be quite shocked to learn of how
many government installations, like the now defunct Bawdsey Manor Radar, are located
within Suffolk, all within a few miles of RAF Bentwaters. The history of these locations, and their
connections to documented experiments on British soil, makes Redfern’s thesis
easier to accept as a possible solution.
The Rendlesham Incident should not be considered a unique event, but one
of a series that have occurred. There are
so many unknowns as to what type of experiments have been conducted before,
Redfern names the ones he’s been made aware of.
This makes for alarming reading.
After discussing the historic
military use of hallucinogens and their results, Redfern rightly assesses the
American and British fascination with the UFO subject and their concern with the
technological means to exploit, control and weaponize nature’s energies. Ball lightning is specifically mentioned but
there will be others. Redfern’s thesis
opens up the idea that central elements to the Rendlesham Forest Incident could
be reproduced, not by a misperceived local lighthouse, but by a sophisticated
array of holographic and energy-creating equipment supported by airborne
hallucinogens. Does this theory sound
far-fetched? Or do alien visitors seem
more likely an answer? Despite my own
personal ufological experience, I’m inclined to agree with a sceptical Redfern
and others who have written on this very subject. Rendlesham has a rational but
strange explanation. Military
experimentation as the proposed solution should not be ignored but studied further.
If these alleged weapons exist
and have the ability to tap into natural energies then why haven’t we heard reports
of them being employed in theatres of conflict such as Bosnia, Afghanistan and
Iraq? Or perhaps these effects have been
employed in far flung parts of the world little touched by our media? Surely, these weapons are not being hoarded
in an underground facility to be used when World War Three breaks out? Or are they secretly functioning as a form of
deterrent? Or are these weapons
frightening because they are made to look real but exist in our imagination? Whatever the truth I want to see proof. There is a reality to lasers soon being
employed by the US military, so what are the holographic capabilities today? Do military scientists know how to control
and weaponize ball lightning or plasma? Something
in this reminds me of the fictional TV show Stranger Things.
To me, these fantastic weapons
are just as elusive as alleged extraterrestrials and their amazingly faulty technologies. Instinctively, the answer to Rendlesham is
likely to be a tad more normal. After
all, the best illusions work because the deception is caused by sleight of
hand. They are perceived in a way that
makes magic real – this is how government and the military intelligence want to
function – for the public to be looking elsewhere, and therefore in Rendlesham
we have aliens. It is utterly insidious.
From the beginning, Redfern makes
it clear that although he doesn’t have all the answers, he’s simply trying to
uncover the truth of what actually happened in that forest. Through his research, and in discussions with
the late Georgina Bruni, Redfern demonstrates the advantage of mutual
co-operation between UFO researchers, as this has led to a number of
breakthroughs. This is an important
lesson for others to follow, e.g. look at what was accomplished by the Sky
Crash authors et al.
It is Redfern’s hope that by publishing
this book those in the know will be encouraged to come out of the shadows and
provide him with the answers. According
to the author this is already happening.
The problem here is being able to discern the wheat from the chaff. As we know, the good and the bad lurk in
those shadows and I wish Nick Redfern the very best in this endeavour. This, however, is the main issue for me,
because the book lacks this very element, which would have made a superb final
chapter – the explanation to show how Operation Rendlesham Forest was planned
and implemented. All, apparently, will
be revealed in the near future.
After finishing Redfern’s book,
it wouldn’t surprise me if readers wanted to explore the Rendlesham Forest UFO subject
further by reading those books written by Bruni, Halt, Pope and Randles, even
the scandal-tarnished Left
at East Gate by Robbins and Warren is a worthy read. I know Redfern has
written plenty of UFO books, but this is definitely one for the UFO library. The reader is certainly presented with an extremely
interesting viewpoint which is backed by decent research and hard work.
But then again you might feel
inclined to believe that the events at Rendlesham Forest is simply old hooey
caused by a lighthouse and over-active imaginations!
