It's more than a little reminiscent of Sharon Weinberger's Imaginary Weapons, where the journalist pursues questions surrounding the credibility of researchers on the receiving end of DARPA funds awarded for a project set on developing a hafnium bomb. Qualified experts suggested the project was a scam, and in at least one instance the architect of the controversial work was outright called a charlatan. Trouble was, nobody keeping watch really understood the details of the arguments, while camps holding polar opposite views slung mud. One thing rang true, however: the camp making the claim and obtaining grant funds bore the burden of producing results, and experiments were often cited in which results could not be duplicated when checked for accuracy. Ultimately, DARPA discontinued the project - with no bomb and taxpayers none the better.
As podcasters Cogswell and Mayhew inspire us to consider, it can become difficult indeed to tell if people are simply blatantly dishonest or whether they, themselves, have become the most deceived of all by their very own rhetoric. How often do researchers continue to argue their position, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, and sincerely come to believe themselves visionaries, hindered by what they convince themselves are the ignorant masses who request proof of their beliefs presented as facts?
Let's consider the story of Andrew and Kalley Heiligenthal, members of a California megachurch who's two-year-old daughter sadly died several days ago. Kalley is a singer and songwriter, and, in her understandable grief, called upon her social media faith fellowship to pray for the girl's resurrection. The initiative got significant attention, including a funding page which raised tens of thousands of dollars and what was reported as a world-wide prayer effort consisting of thousands of social media responses. And Bethel Church, which is the megachurch where the Heiligenthals are members, was on board with the resurrection.
The church released statements to the effect its members believe in such miracles. It was reported that a pastor informed the congregation they were not mourning because "the Spirit" was expected to "wake the child from a sleep." The grieving couple has since decided to go forward with a memorial service for their daughter. I once lived in a community where a religious revival was held and the "fire fell." More people descended on the town daily. I heard about the sick being healed and the crippled rising to walk. It went on for days, probably weeks, but I'm not sure. At some point after the revival was moved to a large auditorium, seating thousands, I decided to go take a look since an X-Files episode was happening down the street.
There was a lot of music and emotionalism. There was dancing, singing, prayer... hope. There was hope for the desperate and lost, and I do not find this altogether problematic, not by any means, but where such hope and emotionalism are cultivated and nurtured, so do deceit and exploitation find hosts.
Before the time the revival finally came to an end, resurrections were claimed. There was really no other way for it to go. It was nearly inevitable. You can't escalate forever without veering from reality. That's my line transitioning us back to ufology.
I don't see the fire falling and the Bethel Church as entirely different circumstances than Bigelow and the researchers who surround him. Do they believe themselves? Maybe some of them do and some of them just think it's a pretty good gig, like some preachers who stand upon pulpits of emotion and rock n roll with advantageous lyrics. There are no doubt multiple layers of motives and intentions, but in the end, we must ask ourselves at what cost the belief: what cost to our wallets, what cost to our understandings of our universe, and what cost to our emotional well-being.
