Why Do Ufologists Wear Ties?

Nick Redfern

Well, it’s a fair question: why do they?

In the Redfern household, suits and ties are strictly reserved for marriages and funerals. Usual attire in these parts is black t-shirts, chunky black boots, and black jeans. Black being the overriding requirement.

But, having been on the ufological lecture circuit since the early 1990s, I have come to learn that there is a certain degree of slightly ridiculous, behind-the-scenes, pomposity in the subject that says if you don’t wear the suit and tie, or have the university-obtained letters after your name (or, even sometimes, you hold alternative views to the ETH of a type that me and Greg adhere to, and don’t say what people - or conference organizers - want to hear), you ain’t gonna be allowed into the “serious” ufological sandpit - which, of course, is absurd. But, sadly, all too common.

Oh, and by the way, the serious ufological sandpit is usually the one where ET and big conferences dominate.

As I have mentioned on previous occasions, we all need to remember that the “U” in UFO still stands for “Unidentified.” It does not necessarily mean “alien spacecraft” (although that may possibly be the root cause of some UFO sightings, I admit).

So (purely hypothetically speaking) how does having a starched collar, and a university degree in some aspect of genetics help further “alien abduction” research if genetic issues aren’t really at the heart of so-called “alien abductions,” as many believe them to be? The answer, of course, is that it doesn’t help. Now, it may help in terms of raising interesting questions and observations; but that’s about it.

However, the key thing to many people is this: it looks impressive. But without actual, firm evidence of relevance to the ufological issue at hand, it’s about as impressive as my driving skills on the “wrong” side of the road were when I first attempted to get behind the wheel of an American car.

But it’s this dreadful, elitist, conformity-driven, clique angle of the UFO research community that really annoys me. To my everlasting regret, I wore the dreaded business suit and tie for a couple of conferences in the UK years ago, and I think, one US based gig and a TV show. But why should we? Well, the answer is I don’t. And neither should you, if you don’t want to.

Ufology is about doing research, finding answers, sharing results, and getting to the bottom of the mystery. It should not be about egos, or who does the best impression of trying to look like a member of the Secret Service, or who has the biggest alphabet soup of initials after their name.

Of course, much of this is due to the fact that many old UFO researchers grew up in a time when business suits and ties were the norm. And, for many - young and old - suits are still the norm, in this rigid, conformity-driven society that so many find themselves sucked into and where individuality is (consciously or otherwise) utterly discouraged.

But when, like me, you grew up in the punk era and where, also like me, you have an outlook on life where what other people think matters not a bit; and living a life the way you want to live it is all that counts, sticking to a rigid conformity laid down by others has no place at all. And it should have no place in Ufology where speculation, theorizing and open discussion should be encouraged - and not stifled by people who want to keep ufology as it was in the “good old days.”

I’ll tell you possibly the worst thing I ever saw: a well-known ufologist - who I know is an absolute non-believer in the tales of George Adamski - at a conference in the US in 2004 sucking up to another well-known ufologist who is a believer in now-departed George, and praising Adamski! And it was so obvious that Ufologist Number 1 just wanted to be accepted into the world of Ufologist Number 2 that he would say anything to gain entry. It was genuinely sickening to see this display, and I walked off shaking my head. Ufologist Number One had sold his soul to get “in” with what he perceived were the important people. He sold out in an effort to enter the mainstream ufological establishment, instead of being himself. He was wearing a business suit. No surprise there, then.

It is my wish that one day, one of the leading UFO groups will hold a conference where a mohawked, Doc Marten-wearing punkette gets up on stage and tells the audience that Roswell was the result of LAM-style entities - conjured up at the witching hour on a dark and stormy night by Jack Parsons - straying off course and crashed catastrophically in the harsh deserts of New Mexico.

And it is my hope that this same punkette will be treated by the old guard with the same degree of respect and acceptance as the suit-wearing, ABC/XYZ-after-the-name brigade; and it will not matter that said punkette is poking a fist at the ET hypothesis. Of course, the old-guard won’t last forever anyway, so I suggest a bit of revolution in the ranks won’t go amiss.

For that reason, perhaps me, Mac Tonnies, Paul Kimball, and Greg Bishop should start a band. Both me and Paul play electric guitar, so it may be a fight to see who plays rhythm, lead (or both), and bass. Maybe Greg can pound the drums, and Mac (surely the Morrisey of Ufology) can be our angst-driven vocalist.

If we hit the lecture circuit with song titles like “Old Ufologists: Your Time Is Up,” or “Wear A Tie? The End Is Nigh,” we might be able to make some of the stuffier elements of ufology realize that research - and good, strong, in-depth research - is all that matters; and nothing else matters if we are going to get answers to this puzzle. And certainly not the color of your tie or your crease-free, Wall Street business suit.