Why UAPs Are Kryptonite for Strongman Leaders
A president can frame “deep state conspiracies,” but how do you spin being powerless against non-human intelligence?
Imagine waking up to headlines confirming humanity is no longer alone. Non-human intelligence has been operating behind the scenes of our world, piloting craft that defy gravity, surveilling nuclear sites, and entering restricted military airspace with ease. Their capabilities outmatch anything humans have developed, and their motives are a mystery. Governments—which derive power by promising security and control—would be shaken to their core.
Now think about what that means for a leader like Donald Trump, someone whose entire identity is built on projecting strength and dominance. When faced with a truth that renders him—and by extension, the government—powerless, how might he react? For a narcissist, it’s not about seeking answers or transparency. It’s about maintaining the illusion of control at all costs.
Yet many still expect someone like Trump to reveal hidden truths about UAPs. Why? Because he hints that he’s privy to secrets, that he’s an outsider fighting against government suppression. But patterns in his behavior tell a different story—one rooted in misdirection, manipulation, and the need to dominate narratives. If you're looking for disclosure from leaders like him, you’re likely to be disappointed.
The Fantasy of Control
Narcissistic leaders like Trump have one rule: never admit vulnerability. Their entire self-image depends on convincing others—and often themselves—that they are invincible. Psychologist Dr. Todd Grande points out that these leaders rely on tactics like superficial charm, arrogance, and a refusal to accept responsibility for failure. Similarly, Professor Sam Vaknin highlights how Trump’s behavior is also driven by an insatiable craving for attention. In his worldview, maintaining dominance and being the center of every conversation are inextricably linked.
This combination—grandiosity and attention-seeking—explains Trump's contradictory handling of UAPs and mysterious drone sightings. In a 2019 interview, he told Tucker Carlson, “I’m not a believer, but anything is possible,” after acknowledging reports from military pilots about objects that outmaneuvered U.S. aircraft. He followed this up with vague claims about having an open mind, leaving both believers and skeptics confused. By doing so, he remained central to the story without committing to any specific position.
“For some reason, they don’t want to comment. They’re keeping people in suspense.” A week later, his press secretary issued an official statement claiming the drones were "authorized by the FAA for research and various other reasons."
Then there were the New Jersey drone incursions. Initially, Trump implied that the government had information but was withholding it: “For some reason, they don’t want to comment. They’re keeping people in suspense.” A week later, his press secretary issued an official statement claiming the drones were "authorized by the FAA for research and various other reasons." This explanation was full of contradictions, as everything in U.S. airspace must be “authorized by the FAA” and the FAA itself does not conduct research. Trump’s statement overwhelmed with ambiguity—“various other reasons” offered no clarity but instead created more room for speculation.
Compare this to how the Biden administration handled the drone incursions. The White House press secretary issued a statement saying the drones were "not a threat" and likely involved private operators or routine testing. The statement was vague but served to reassure without provoking sensationalism. Trump, by contrast, used a similar lack of specifics to manipulate both sides of the debate. For skeptics, the incomprehensibility of his explanation was dismissive; for believers, it hinted at suppressed knowledge. His approach kept both camps engaged in his narrative.
This tactic—overloading the narrative with confusing details—serves both his need for control and his craving for attention. By offering just enough contradiction and ambiguity, he prevents clear scrutiny while drawing people deeper into his orbit.
When Reality Breaks the Fantasy
Now, let’s look at why disclosure itself is so dangerous to leaders who thrive on control. Governments maintain power by projecting competence—the idea that they can protect their citizens from threats. UAPs challenge this premise entirely. How does a leader admit, “We’re not in control and don’t fully understand what’s in our airspace?” It’s not just the ultimate political risk; it’s a direct assault on the psychological foundation of a narcissist’s authority.
“We’re not in control and don’t fully understand what’s in our airspace?”
Trump’s approach to secrecy reveals this dynamic. When he promised to declassify JFK assassination records (for the second time), he leaned into the narrative of a “deep state” conspiracy. That story fit his need to position himself as the heroic outsider. But UAPs don’t offer the same narrative benefits. They’re not easily framed as a human conflict. Instead, they’re a reminder of a larger, uncontrollable force.
Leaders with healthier psychological frameworks might address such revelations through diplomacy, science, and transparency. For a narcissist, however, those responses feel like admissions of weakness. Their instinct is to obfuscate, distract, or redefine the problem to fit their fantasy of dominance.
Why We Keep Electing Narcissists
Here’s the catch: Trump’s behavior isn’t unique. American democracy has a long history of elevating leaders with narcissistic traits. Studies show that politicians often score higher on measures like entitlement and overconfidence than other professionals. Voters tend to equate confidence with competence, even though research suggests the opposite is true.
This leads to a vicious cycle. We reward leaders who project unshakable authority, only to become disillusioned when they fail to deliver transparency or solutions. Issues like UAP disclosure, which require humility and collaboration with experts, expose the limitations of these leaders. But by then, it’s too late. They’re already in power, and we’re left navigating their self-serving narratives and convincing ourselves they don’t actually mean what they said.
We reward leaders who project unshakable authority, only to become disillusioned when they fail to deliver transparency or solutions.
This dynamic plays out in the UAP community’s interactions with Trump. Despite his contradictory statements, figures like New Jersey Mayor Michael Melham and disclosure advocates Lue Elizondo and Jake Barber have expressed hope that Trump might eventually reveal hidden truths. Some even supported his nominees, like Tulsi Gabbard and Kash Patel, believing these allies could push for greater transparency. Yet time and again, Trump’s behavior—from vague hints to chaotic messaging—has shown that he’s not curious about UAP, and disclosure isn’t part of his agenda until someone shows him how it can serve his personal image.
The hope persists because narcissistic leaders are skilled at dangling just enough intrigue to keep people engaged. They create the illusion that truth is within reach if you just wait long enough. In reality, they’re simply buying time to maintain control.
What Happens If Disclosure Is Real?
Let’s imagine Trump receives undeniable evidence of non-human intelligence. Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard brief him, revealing that:
The U.S. possesses non-human craft and biological materials.
These entities have demonstrated interest in nuclear capabilities and have abducted humans.
The U.S. has been unable to reverse-engineer their technology, while China and Russia may be making progress.
How does Trump handle it?
Minimize and Deflect: Publicly, he might dismiss the information as “probably just advanced Chinese drones.” Privately, he would hint to his supporters that there’s more to the story, allowing conspiracy theories to spread. This keeps him in control of the narrative without having to take accountability.
“They’re very impressive, these things—I’ve seen some reports, very top secret. But don’t worry, it’s under control. Probably just some competitor technology. We’re monitoring it closely.”
Frame It as a Personal Victory: He could portray himself as the only leader capable of forcing the truth out of reluctant agencies. To avoid the implication that he’s not in control, he would likely pivot to a narrative that reframes the UAPs as a challenge only he has the unique strength to handle.
“Other presidents? They were too scared to touch this. But I’m making them reveal it. You’re seeing transparency like you’ve never seen before—because of me. And nobody else could handle this like I’m handling it.”
Exploit Ambiguity: Trump would likely drop cryptic hints without offering details, ensuring that people believe he knows more than he lets on.
“I’ve seen things, things you wouldn’t believe. But I can’t talk about it right now. Maybe soon. We’ll see.”
Blame Others: Should public pressure for full disclosure increase, he’d pivot to blaming intelligence agencies or political rivals. He would emphasize that institutional forces were keeping information from him, casting himself as both a victim and the ultimate problem-solver.
“The swamp runs deep, folks. They’re not telling me everything. But believe me, I’m fighting for you, and I’ll get the answers. They don’t want me to fix it, but we’re going to fix it.”
You Get the Democracy You Deserve
If we want leaders capable of handling something as profound as the disclosure that a non-human intelligence shares the planet with us, we need to rethink how we choose them. Confidence isn’t competence. Strength isn’t invulnerability. Leaders who can face reality without needing to twist it into a fantasy are rare—but they’re essential.
So, what’s next? Do we keep placing our trust in narcissistic figures who fear transparency? Or do we demand leaders who can grapple with the unknown honestly? The answer may shape not just the future of UAP disclosure, but the very nature of how we govern ourselves.