In the shadowed corridors of the Pentagon, some of the government’s most classified programs hold secrets that are barely whispered, even among those with top security clearances. For decades, Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena (UAPs)—formerly known as UFOs—have been the subject of speculative fascination. But for the government, these phenomena are far more than just a public curiosity. Recent congressional testimony by journalist Michael Shellenberger has unveiled allegations of a covert U.S. program known as “Immaculate Constellation,” an effort within the Department of Defense (DOD) that, according to whistleblowers, consolidates data on UAP sightings and encounters, keeping it under a shroud of secrecy.
As Shellenberger explained to Congress, this program and others like it operate under Special Access Programs (SAPs)—initiatives so secret that their very existence is often denied. SAPs allow a level of autonomy that largely sidesteps oversight from Congress, even bypassing the Gang of Eight—the top leaders in Congress privy to sensitive intelligence. This lack of transparency is particularly concerning given the allegations surrounding Immaculate Constellation, which whistleblowers suggest may be handling UAP data using sophisticated sensors that span infrared, forward-looking infrared (FLIR), and full-motion video. These high-tech tools provide a vivid look into UAP activities, yet access to such information is restricted to an almost unfathomable degree.
Immaculate Constellation reportedly came into existence in 2017, shortly after a New York Times article exposed a lesser-known Pentagon UAP program, Advanced Aerospace Threat Identification Program (AATIP). According to Shellenberger, Immaculate Constellation functions as a “parent” program, consolidating observations of UAPs gathered from both routine and unexpected military encounters. He described it as centralizing reports, videos, and high-quality Imagery Intelligence (IMINT), captured by U.S. military assets. This SAP allegedly operates with such opacity that even mentioning its name could trigger surveillance under the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA).
Whistleblowers have shared details about some of the encounters documented under this program, revealing incidents that defy conventional explanations. In one case, an F-22 fighter jet encountered several UAPs in close proximity, reportedly attempting evasive maneuvers but failing to outpace the objects. These UAPs surrounded the jet, displaying an uncanny ability to match the F-22’s speed and trajectory, eventually escorting it out of the patrol zone. Another report describes a UAP over a Navy aircraft carrier, where a “roiling, orange-red sphere” descended to hover just above the flight deck. This sphere, seemingly emitting intense light, cast no illumination on the surrounding area—an anomaly scientists cannot easily explain.
Yet, despite mounting evidence, the government maintains its silence. Shellenberger’s testimony highlighted that not only has Immaculate Constellation remained unacknowledged, but the program is also so highly classified that even many senior military and intelligence officials remain in the dark about its existence. Former DOD officials like Christopher Mellon and high-level whistleblowers, including former intelligence officer David Grusch, argue that these SAPs effectively prevent Congress and the public from accessing crucial information on UAPs.
The existence of SAPs is nothing new in U.S. intelligence, but the level of secrecy associated with UAP research is extraordinary. Whistleblowers allege that the government has collected nonhuman biological materials and advanced, unidentified technology, yet all such evidence remains hidden within these programs. Grusch and others report having faced retaliation, intimidation, and harassment—an echo of the darker practices reminiscent of past intelligence operations aimed at silencing insiders.
The Pentagon’s latest public-facing UAP investigative body, the All-domain Anomaly Resolution Office (AARO), has consistently downplayed the more extraordinary UAP reports. In its public statements, AARO has attributed sightings to natural atmospheric phenomena or foreign drones, categorically denying any knowledge of extraterrestrial technology. But critics of AARO’s work, including former Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense Christopher Mellon, argue that this agency may be little more than a public relations front, obscuring the true nature of the government’s UAP findings. Mellon described AARO’s reports as “riddled with errors,” citing issues in its analytic rigor and questioning its commitment to transparency.
In response to these revelations, Congress has moved to pass the UAP Disclosure Act, which would require government agencies to turn over all recovered UAP materials and data to an independent review board for public release. Proponents argue that this measure is essential for protecting democratic accountability and restoring public trust in government, especially following a series of UAP incursions around critical military sites, including nuclear facilities. Shellenberger emphasized that regardless of what UAPs may represent, the current handling of UAP intelligence—marked by secrecy, silenced whistleblowers, and SAPs shielded from public scrutiny—points to a profound disconnect between national security interests and democratic oversight.
DOD spokesperson Sue Gough maintains that no unreported UAP programs exist within the Pentagon, claiming that all SAPs are disclosed as required. However, this official line contradicts the testimony of individuals who claim direct knowledge of SAP activities and the chilling measures allegedly used to protect them. John Greenewald, a leading Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) researcher, attests to the government’s tight grip on UAP information. Requests for declassified data have been denied or heavily redacted, often citing vague “national security” justifications. “They seem intent on keeping UAPs under wraps,” Greenewald observed, adding that much of what is withheld could likely be disclosed without compromising security.
As these layers of secrecy continue to come to light, the stakes are high. Immaculate Constellation and similar programs raise urgent questions about the balance between safeguarding national security and ensuring government transparency. For those like Shellenberger and Grusch, pushing for disclosure is not about confirming alien life but about holding government programs accountable to the principles of democracy. And as Congress moves toward greater oversight, the growing demand for transparency on UAPs could bring the public one step closer to answers.
What Immaculate Constellation truly conceals remains an enigma, one that challenges both the scientific community and public perception. But in the face of silence, the call for truth grows louder. As Shellenberger concluded in his testimony, “We deserve to know.”
