One of the most interesting things to me about the UFO world when I began reading about it was what people meant by research and peer review. As a failed academic, I’ve served some serious time in academe and my understanding of terms like science, research and peer review didn’t seem to map very well onto how things happened in ufology. The reluctance to share data and findings rang an especially bizarre note because science is very much a community endeavor.
Peer review, for example, is really an extended process. A budding researcher will start by learning specific research methods—how to execute them properly and what kinds of questions they are best suited to answering— by meeting with colleagues to review and pick apart published research or each other’s work. This can get quite vicious, but it also forces people to tighten up their game and develop a sharp eye. It’s inherently a group activity done with people you might not always agree with or like.
When it comes to your own work, you have to be able to convince others that your research addresses an important or interesting question. This generally involves placing it the context of existing published or ongoing studies of a similar nature. Again, sharing. Maybe you go to a conference and present a paper draft and get comments on your work from whoever shows up to your session, or you participate in an online group to brainstorm with colleagues doing similar research to solve data collection or analysis problems.
If you end up writing a grant to secure funding, you can be assured that many different eyes will be reviewing your proposed research design to make sure it is sound. (Which is not to say that sound research design will always get funded.) You will also have to include a lengthy section on how you propose to ensure that your research subjects are treated ethically because, as history shows, researchers are actually really, really bad at doing that. Universities (now!) have something called Institutional Review Boards that are charged with protecting research subjects from researchers.
Once you’ve analyzed the data, written the paper and submitted it to a journal (in order to share your results with the rest of the community), your research undergoes formal peer review. Your paper will be sent to some of the people you’ve cited in it on the assumption that they work in a similar area and will be able to make informed comments about your research design, data analysis, conclusions, etc. This is a blind review where you’ll just get back an anonymous set of comments from the editor based on what reviewers said.
In the final analysis, you share all of your data and notes on methodology with anyone who questions your work in order to see if they can replicate your findings. You put that information online so that anyone can run analyses on their town with the data. The General Social Survey is a good example of this kind of thing. Without sharing it and explaining it, your research and your knowledge means nothing.
This is the process as I became familiar with it as a grad student in the human, clinical and social sciences. Every step of the way you are sharing your work with people who don’t necessarily like or agree with you. Sharing serves several functions. At first it is a way to develop your skills by getting feedback from others. Later it’s a way to engage in debate and discourse that pushes ideas ahead. Ultimately it’s the way fields build a foundation of knowledge that outlasts the lives of the individuals who toil in them and eventually pile up into those shoulders of giants we’ve all heard about.
What I’ve heard about Ted Phillips’ work sounds fascinating. I’d certainly like to know more about it; I’d like to have enough information to make my own assessment of his data, methods, and any conclusions; I most certainly want to see his years of effort preserved somehow. I realize there’s a very good chance of that not happening for whatever reason, which is a problem that seems to be endemic to ufology of a certain age.
There are aspects of the Marley Woods case serve as a jumping off point to discuss some of the classic dynamics of science a la UFO:
1) The idea of ownership of a research topic and any information pertaining to it. Various rationalizations are offered for this. Sometimes it’s purported protection of research subjects involved and sometimes it’s the Funniest Joke idea – the truth is too explosive to share indiscriminately. More cynically, the researcher wants to be believed from a safe distance from which their mistakes, deceptions or self-delusions will not be called out, and/or they are holding out to make some profit by packaging and selling a compelling myth or identity narrative based on their work.
2) There’s no emphasis on the protection of the human subjects involved in the research. There may be intermittent attempts to treat them ethically, but in ufology as elsewhere it would appear that your ethical mileage may vary (significantly!). The real research emphasis is on a) understanding The Phenomenon, especially since it very likely holds the key to overunity, etc., and/or b) packaging and selling a compelling myth or identity narrative (see 1 above).
3) Rhetorics of mass communications, jurisprudence, science and spirituality are blended into one confusing mix. Non-disclosure agreements do not really relate to doing science; they relate to aspects of the entertainment and publishing industries (see compelling myth or identity narrative, item 1 above). Likewise, evidence in the juridical sense does not relate to doing science. Collecting and analyzing first-hand accounts or family stories is doing science; calling an account true because it’s written in the form of an affidavit is methodologically naïve. Science and jurisprudence are not the same critter; they have different definitions for admissible evidence. Furthermore, spirituality cannot be reduced to or validated by science, no matter what rhetorical mirrors or cultural predispositions are invoked. Science can answer science-y questions really well; it is not capable of answering questions about ethics, spirituality, or values. Only humans (and of course their alien master overlords and ancestors) are capable of that.
Some although not all of these things are apparent in what I’ve heard about Ted Phillips’ work. From the vantage point of a listener, Phillips seems to be an example of a Culture Hero of a certain style of UFO research that in the long run undercuts its own efforts. Those failures can’t be placed entirely on Ted Phillips’ shoulders. However, after listening to the Aftercast (about him having health issues, not answering his phone or emails) frankly I’d be more concerned about the guy’s wellbeing more than anything else. There are red flags here. At least contact a relative to make sure he’s doing reasonably well. Screw the spook lights and data; I’m sure the locals can defend themselves against legend trippers.
Oops! I guess I forgot about the fourth dynamic of science a la UFO:
4) When you stop producing marketable narratives, you are essentially dead.
