policy—or nonpolicy—in Washington.
But what makes Symington’s situation even more exceptional is that although he was awestruck by his sighting, and believed this craft could not have been man-made, he didn’t just simply ignore it. He went so far in the other direction as to stage a farcical press conference featuring a costumed alien that inadvertently insulted his fellow witnesses. How could he have laughed about this, and made a public joke out of it, given his direct experience of the physically real, inexplicable event a few months earlier?
Symington, in retrospect, says, “If I had to do it all over again I probably would have handled it differently.” But the state of Arizona was “on the brink of hysteria” about the UFO flyover when he called the press conference, and the frenzy was building. “I wanted them to lighten up and calm down, so I introduced a little levity. But I never felt that the overall situation was a matter of ridicule,” he says. That was why, ten years later, free of the constraints of political office, he wanted to set the record straight and make amends to constituents like Stacey Roads.
Now, we can gain insight from the former governor into what drives government officials to intensely resist the simple acknowledgment of the mere existence of something unidentified in the sky that does not
He explains it this way:
You’re not a normal person when you’re a governor. You have to be extremely careful about public statements and how you handle yourself. A public figure is fair game for attack. Everything is picked over by the media and your political opposition. You try to avoid being the subject of harsh ridicule because you have a serious responsibility while in this role, and your public stature is directly related to your ability to get things done. If all of a sudden you’re typed as a buffoon or a loony, you won’t be effective. I had to make a choice. My top priority was to fulfill the responsibilities I had been elected to accomplish as governor.
In the months following the event, Symington had observed the press making fun of his friend Frances Barwood for simply taking the sighting seriously in response to public pressure—and she wasn’t even a witness. He was also dealing with his share of political battles within the vicious world of Arizona politics, and says today, “Can you imagine what would have happened if I had said anything?” Although his decision is understandable, this is a sad commentary on our unspoken political policy toward UFOs, and the power of that irrational, habitual taboo that most of us have not questioned and that led Governor Symington to believe he would be branded a “buffoon” or a “loony” if he acknowledged something he and countless others had seen in the sky. Although he was at risk politically, such damaging labels are not only dangerous for political figures such as he, but are also harmfully applied to many everyday people who witness the phenomenon. Imbued with prejudice and an irrational fear of the unknown, these attitudes have been entrenched in our culture for over fifty years, and have not been well understood. But Symington’s experience, for one, shows why elected officials and military brass in America wait until after retirement before risking saying anything at all about UFOs, no matter what their experience.
At the time, this governor found himself facing an unprecedented situation. Suddenly confronted with an escalation of public outcry following unanticipated national news coverage of a state-wide UFO sighting, he had to act fast. He felt it had become urgent that he change the mood. His administration was on its own in that moment, with no idea what had passed through the skies over Phoenix, or how to handle the aftermath of this momentous event. There was no support coming to state officials from the federal government, no answers from local authorities, and public ridicule had been unleashed against those daring to question what happened. So, relying on his own personal strengths in dealing quickly with a highly unusual problem, Governor Symington opted for a public spoof to lighten things up and cut the momentum with one sharp blow. “I never felt this sighting represented any kind of a threat,” he explains. “I also had a good sense of humor. Everyone, including the media, was caught off guard. This seemed like an effective way to change things.”
Imagine, for a moment, if a government office tasked with the investigation of UFO events such as this— exactly what we’re hoping to establish now—was in place at the time of the Phoenix Lights, and the case had been properly handled. One can envision the following: During the actual event, as the result of a few calls from Washington, pilots already aloft could have been asked to fly near the objects, observe them, and photograph them if possible. Air Force jets would have been scrambled to get a closer look and attempt to engage the objects further. Civilian and military air traffic controllers could have attempted to catch them on radar, and military bases could have tried to contact the objects via communications signals sent out from the best technology for doing so. High-powered telescopes would have been aimed at the skies, at the proper altitude to possibly view the objects. The lead investigator from our UFO desk would have been in phone contact with a local team of scientists and aviation experts, already on the ground in Arizona or nearby states as part of an established network.
Early the next morning, the official from our agency would be dispatched to Phoenix for a briefing with all relevant officials, including, of course, the governor. His own sighting, and perhaps those of other officials or their families, along with commercial and military pilots, would be discussed and documented. Civilian witnesses would be encouraged to file independent reports and supply drawings of what they saw, along with any photos or home videos, as quickly as possible. Reporters would supply footage and witness interviews captured on camera the previous evening. Our coordinating official from the central office would have access to all radar records, and could interview air traffic controllers, police officers, government offices receiving calls, and all pilots flying near the multiple objects. Air Force bases and military installations in Arizona—all having been put on alert during the flyover—would be approached regarding the object, and would inform the investigators whether any flare drops, unusual flight formations, or other military maneuvers had been scheduled that night.
The public would be informed through a series of press conferences—like those provided by the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB), as an example, in the days following an airline crash—about progress in the investigation. Citizens would be assured that the sighting did not constitute a threat, that no one had been harmed, that the proper authorities were investigating the incident, and that the public would be kept abreast of developments. Ideally, this event would not be sensationalized or blown out of proportion by the media, and would simply be one of many news stories of the day, perhaps not even of interest to the many who didn’t witness an unidentified object themselves.
In short, a small agency, with links to experts within multiple disciplines around the country, could undertake a clean, clear, and thorough investigation of something like the Phoenix Lights within a short time frame. If the identity of the objects could not be determined after a reasonable amount of time, there would be no need to withhold that from the public. People would go about their lives, as they have done in Europe and South America when such announcements were made, and the scientific community—by now actively investigating the phenomenon—would be provided the relevant data for further study.
“If the sighting affecting so many people in Arizona could have been officially, quickly, and openly investigated, with no stigma attached, all the resulting public confusion and hysteria that I faced as governor could have been avoided,” Symington states. “This is the sane approach, as is recognized in other countries, and should become the new American policy. I would not want to see another governor go through what I did in 1997, and it’s only a matter of time before this will happen again.”
No wonder apprehension and frustration mounted in the state of Arizona. How could anyone feel safe, or trust the authorities to protect them, when such an intrusion by a massive craft is treated as if it never happened? Each of us must ask ourselves what
Another factor, as has been pointed out by many military officials, is the risk that potentially disastrous aggressive actions might be taken against a UFO, due to a lack of preparation of those responsible for the defense of the country. If an object the size of the one seen over Phoenix came even closer to the ground, for example, or shot a penetrating beam onto an observer, or took any number of frightening actions that we could imagine, how would we respond? Pilots have attempted to shoot down UFOs from the air. What would it take for a similar response to be triggered from an air defense base on the ground? We must not forget that we are dealing with