A WAR OF WORLDS — AND WORLDVIEWS
From Vatican Halls to Tech Billionaires: the Battlefield of UFO/UAP Discourse
There was a time, not too long ago, when the public conversation around UFOs — often rebranded as UAP (Unidentified Aerial Phenomena) — seemed poised to cross party lines and ideological boundaries with ease.
After all, the questions those mysterious lights and alleged encounters raise cut straight to the core of our shared curiosity: Are we alone? Could there be others out there — others who might be observing us, or perhaps making contact under strange circumstances?
But since the much-hyped “disclosures” of 2017, spurred in large part by the New York Times’ revelations of the Pentagon’s AATIP program, what might have been a unifying moment too often devolved into partisan vitriol and culture-war posturing.
FROM ISENGARD TO THE SILICON VALLEY
It did not help that these were — and still are — dangerous and volatile socio-political times, full of anxiety about disinformation and institutional failures. Into this environment stepped individuals like Peter Thiel, a billionaire known for his contrarian, libertarian streak, and Jesse Michels, a media figure and podcast host who works for Thiel and amplifies many of his positions. Thiel’s influence in tech, politics, and the cultural conversation has long been formidable. His venture capital decisions shape our digital future, and his data-analytics company, Palantir, sits at the nexus of US government contracts, intelligence, and private sector deals — a veritable symbol of state surveillance and big-data ambition.
The name “Palantir” itself comes from J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, where these seeing stones could peer across great distances — though they often became tools of deception and manipulation. It’s a particularly resonant piece of symbolism, especially for those of us who grew up watching how far-right extremists, in my native Italy and beyond, co-opted elements from sci-fi and fantasy lore to infiltrate youth subcultures. I wrote about this in a previous article discussing how certain political groups weaponised the imagery of orcs, elven hierarchies, and pseudo-medieval symbolism to recruit and radicalise.
In that context, Thiel’s choice of a Tolkien reference for his surveillance-oriented company feels like more than just a whimsical nod to fantasy; it suggests a particular ethos about knowledge, power, and control.
What does all this have to do with UFOs? Thiel and Michels, by their own words in various podcasts and social media posts, have been vocal about seeing potential NHI (Non-Human Intelligences) as “evil” or “demonic.”
That perspective is not unique to them, of course; evangelicals have been framing UFOs in “angels or demons” terminology for decades. What makes the Thiel-Michels partnership significant is its ability to put money behind these views — funding think tanks, media channels, and influencers who weave together anti-government sentiment, Christian moral panic, and NHI conspiracy theories into an “us vs. them” narrative. In this polarised worldview, genuine scientific or philosophical inquiry into UFO phenomena gets sidelined by an urgent suspicion that malevolent cosmic forces are either allied with, or at war with, the so-called “Deep State.”
Through podcasts like Michels’s American Alchemy, or through the broader constellation of conservative media outlets and academics who adopt this posture, the conversation too often orbits around a simple question: Are the aliens (or whatever these entities might be) aligned with God or with Satan?
This is the language of an evangelical cosmic battle, and it leaves no room for more nuanced possibilities. We can see how quickly that polarises the subject: UFOs become a prop in a larger culture war rather than an avenue for open-ended exploration.
ULTRACONSERVATIVE CATHOLICISM AND UFOs: PASULKA, VIGANÒ, AND BEYOND
Into this swirl steps Diana Walsh Pasulka, a Catholic scholar whose book American Cosmic (published by Oxford University Press) introduced many readers to the interplay between religious experience and the UFO phenomenon.
On one hand, her work broke new ground by taking the subject matter seriously — acknowledging that there is a quasi-spiritual dimension to how people approach UFOs. On the other, her perspective, at times, can feel narrowly tethered to a Catholic framework of angels, demons, and potential miracles. Moreover, as a Catholic scholar who has hinted at having Vatican contacts, Pasulka can inadvertently (or perhaps deliberately) bolster that same “strictly Christian” interpretive lens that the far-right seems intent on perpetuating. Some who’ve tried to involve her in more expansive discussions — touching on esotericism, occult studies, or even the deeper historical record of non-Abrahamic faith traditions — find her reluctant to engage.
You can hear an example of this rhetoric in the video below, but it’s just one of many. I selected this one in particular because, at 24:57, we have Michels stating outright, “Jack Parsons’ view were demonic, my interpretation.”
Two birds with one stone!
I’ve wondered if part of the reason lies in her background; maybe it’s simpler to maintain a mainstream Catholic footing than to wander into the complexities of ceremonial magic or alternative religious thought. Perhaps there is also a political angle: if she were to adopt too broad a stance, she might lose the backing or goodwill of those in the conservative Catholic orbit, including admirers of Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò. Viganò, a figurehead for extreme traditionalist Catholics, has aligned himself with populist politicians and traffics in conspiratorial warnings of satanic infiltration — a worldview that can make the UFO phenomenon yet another demonic plot.
Viganò stands out as a central figure within ultraconservative Catholic circles, often linked — at least by association — with the concept of sedevacantism. In essence, this viewpoint challenges the very legitimacy of Pope Francis’s authority, claiming the papacy is effectively “vacant.” He was excommunicated in 2024 for schism.
Not every supporter of Viganò literally upholds this extreme position, but many share his profound mistrust of progressive tendencies within modern Catholic leadership and his penchant for interpreting global events as spiritual battles. That inclination, in turn, makes him an attractive ally to far-right UFO narratives, where clandestine government collusion and demonic forces supposedly conspire to mislead humanity. Indeed, Viganò’s scepticism of institutional authorities dovetails seamlessly with certain evangelical end-times beliefs, even if the fine points of doctrine differ from group to group.
The archbishop’s outspoken backing of populist politicians — many of whom talk about “Deep State” machinations — further amplifies these suspicions. By casting worldly disputes in cosmic, good-versus-evil terms, his circle effectively encourages religious conservatives to see UFO phenomena as a battlefield between divine revelation and satanic deception rather than as a topic for calm investigation. In that environment, any anomaly in the sky automatically becomes proof of a spiritual war. This is how Viganò’s worldview, initially rooted in a critique of the modern Catholic Church, ends up shaping the broader conversation on UFOs and NHI: when the ultimate reality is framed in terms of heavenly or hellish forces, there’s little space left for more measured perspectives.
POLITICS, DEEP STATE, AND THE LEFT’S RETREAT
This is, of course, the same tension we see playing out in the broader UFO community. People who once hailed US Congresswoman Nancy Mace for her “interest” in promoting disclosure realised, with disappointment, that she was primarily using it to attack institutions and stir up distrust in the very government structures that might one day give us actual data. It mirrors how the Times’s 2017 revelations were eagerly adopted by the right-wing as proof of a Deep State cover-up — allowing them to stoke anti-establishment sentiment — while many on the left, fearful of being lumped in with conspiracy theorists, distanced themselves from the entire conversation.
Consequently, mainstream liberal voices like Neil deGrasse Tyson resort to straw-man dismissals to shield progressive platforms from accusations of dabbling in pseudo-science.
Then there’s Mitch Horowitz. He’s a fascinating character in all this — a writer who’s attempted to recast esoteric and occult traditions in a more mainstream, palatable way, emphasising positive thinking and the power of the mind. A well-known face in occulture, he recently made the jump to mainstream television with his Alien Encounters: Fact or Fiction on Discovery Channel.
His “big tent” approach to spiritual and occult scholarship means you can talk about hermetics, New Thought, and religious pluralism, all under one umbrella of inclusivity. In many ways, I find that beautiful, maybe even necessary. After all, in times as turbulent as ours, perhaps encouraging people to find common ground or uplifting spiritual practices is a gentler antidote to fear-mongering. But the pessimist in me worries that a purely affirmative, broad-church approach does not always hold up when confronted with the wave of aggressive culture-war narratives we see swirling around UFOs. Horowitz’s brand of optimism and willingness to keep it light might, inadvertently, let more manipulative operators go unchallenged.
Yet, I’ll admit that I’m prone to a darker, more critical view of our times. It may be that Horowitz’s perspective offers a crucial counterweight — reminding us to envision a better, more open-minded conversation about UFOs rather than a closed system of suspicion and demonisation. Without that dash of hope, we risk letting the nightmares define the narrative.
THE ROAD AHEAD
All of these dynamics — Thiel’s venture capitalism and contrarian politics, Michels’s role as a social media spin doctor, Pasulka’s cautious Catholic lens, Viganò’s apocalyptic zeal, and Horowitz’s open-hearted optimism — collide in the heart of our so-called “Disclosure” moment. The fundamental question is whether that moment is already lost to partisan and theological bickering, or if there is still space for a revitalised approach that welcomes the full spectrum of science, spirituality, and yes, even esotericism.
Historically, from Tolkien references in surveillance-tech companies to the infiltration of fantasy subcultures by far-right agitators, we’ve seen how mythic tropes can be bent to serve political ends — especially if no one intervenes with a more inclusive or critical narrative. That’s why I keep coming back to this essential need for nuance. If the UFO/UAP phenomenon is genuinely mysterious (and I believe it is), we deserve an equally broad-minded inquiry that spans scientific rigour and spiritual wonder, scepticism and open-hearted curiosity.3
For now, though, it feels as if a well-funded religious and political bloc, flush with Palantir-level resources and a zeal for demonising the unknown, has put a chokehold on the dialogue. Those of us who remain interested in what’s really out there will have to keep seeking new platforms and forging new alliances. Maybe it’ll take another major event — another wave of sightings or an actual “landing on the White House lawn” scenario — for us to shake off the shadow of angels-and-demons frames. Or maybe, as Horowitz would suggest, there’s power in shifting the narrative from within, planting seeds of curiosity in every corner of that deeply divided field.
In any case, the conversation around UFOs has become a microcosm of our broader socio-political battles — where misinformation, populist vehemence, religious dogma, and big money swirl together in a tangled mess.
If we can recognise that tangling for what it is, maybe we can begin to untie the knots and reclaim some sense of genuine exploration. But as it stands now, there are more eyes watching us — through Palantir’s metaphorical seeing-stones and the lens of dogmatic fervour — than we may ever realise, eager to cast that cosmic riddle in stark terms of good and evil, “us” and “them,” with little room in between.
