In this episode of The Deep Dive, we trace the evolution of official UAP investigations—from the post-WWII hunt for wreckage to a radical conclusion reached by insiders: the phenomenon may be intrinsically tied to human consciousness.

It begins in the early 1950s, when Canadian official Wilbert Smith discovered that the U.S. was already running a deeply classified program focused on flying saucers. In a sensitive memo, Smith noted that American authorities were interested not just in the craft—but in the mental phenomena associated with them. This wasn’t a fringe idea. It was embedded in the earliest stages of secrecy.

Smith named Dr. Vannevar Bush, the wartime science czar, as heading a small group studying the “modus operandi” of the saucers. Bush’s involvement signaled that the highest levels of American science were taking the phenomenon seriously. Around the same time, Dr. Eric Walker, executive secretary of the Research and Development Board, admitted attending meetings about the recovery of a flying saucer and its occupants—reportedly stored at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. When asked about MJ-12, the legendary secret group, Walker said he’d known about them for 40 years.

These early confirmations lend weight to the idea that crash retrievals and compartmented programs were real. But as the decades progressed, the investigation took a strange turn.

In the 2000s, the U.S. government launched a new wave of UAP research. One of the most prominent was Robert Bigelow, who spent millions studying the phenomenon. While known for chasing hard evidence—exotic materials, reverse engineering—Bigelow also funded parapsychology research, including grants to Dean Radin in the 1990s.

This dual interest led directly to the creation of AAWSAP—the Advanced Aerospace Weapon System Applications Program with support from Senator Ted Stevens, AAWSAP received $22 million to study aerial phenomena, particularly those reported at Skinwalker Ranch.

Under Bigelow’s direction, buildings were reportedly modified to store recovered UAP materials. Luis Elizondo, a key figure in later disclosure efforts, claimed these materials were “metamaterials” with isotopic ratios not found on Earth—implying off-world origin.

But the deeper shift came from James Lakatsky, who managed AAWSAP for the DIA. After years of research, Lakatsky concluded that physical phenomena were connected to psychic phenomena—and that consciousness played a crucial role.

He defined the UAP as a technology that integrates physical and psychic elements, and that manipulates psychological and physiological parameters in the witness. In other words, the phenomenon doesn’t just fly—it interacts with minds, tailoring experiences to individuals, and potentially influencing culture.

Robert Bigelow echoed this in his “Theory of WOW View,” suggesting that the intelligence behind the phenomenon performs absurd, physically impossible acts to grab attention and challenge our assumptions. It’s not just surveillance—it’s messaging. Games. Performance art designed to break our reality framework.

Tim Taylor, a high-level intelligence official, visited experiencer Chris Bledsoe not because Bledsoe was a threat—but because the phenomenon seemed to “like” him. It was communicating with Bledsoe, not the intel officers. This suggests that connection, intent, and consciousness matter.

Jim Semivan, former CIA, described the truth as “indigestible.” He worried about how to explain to children that there’s a force that can control the environment, insert thoughts, deceive, and that we’re not in control. The fear isn’t about technology—it’s about existential collapse.

This leads to a profound realization: the secrecy may not be about protecting advanced hardware, but about shielding humanity from a truth that could shatter our worldview. If the phenomenon is tied to consciousness, then our understanding of reality, free will, and identity is at stake.