Disclosure Day & ONE

What Disclosure Day Reminded Me About My Own Encounter

Spoiler Notice: This article discusses several key themes and selected scenes from Disclosure Day. While it is not intended as a review of the film, it contains spoilers. If you have not yet seen the movie, I recommend watching it before continuing.

This article compares themes explored in Disclosure Day with ideas presented in my book ONE. It is not intended to suggest that the film is based on my work. Rather, it explores the remarkable parallels I personally found between two independent works that approach many of the same fundamental questions from different directions.

Introduction

In the days following the release of Disclosure Day, I noticed that audiences were remarkably divided in their reactions. Some regarded it as an exceptional film, while others came away disappointed, having expected something entirely different. Judging by the promotional campaign—especially the trailers—most viewers, myself included, expected a sensational disclosure of classified information that had supposedly been concealed from the public for more than seventy years: information concerning unidentified aerial phenomena and the long-rumored government cover-up surrounding them.

The surprise comes when you actually watch the film.

The secrecy surrounding those unidentified objects turns out to be only the outer layer of what is really being disclosed. The true revelation is far deeper.

It is the disclosure of the Visitors themselves.

As someone who experienced a profoundly life-altering face-to-face encounter more than forty years ago with several beings remarkably similar to the visitors portrayed in the film, watching those scenes was, to say the least, chilling.

After seeing the film, I found myself increasingly convinced that its deeper purpose is not merely to reveal the existence of non-human intelligence, but to prepare the public for what such a revelation would truly require of us.

Not only intellectually, but psychologically.

Not only culturally, but spiritually.

Not only emotionally, but perhaps even physically—if humanity were someday to find itself standing face to face with the Visitors.

Ultimately, the film asks a much deeper question:

What would such an encounter actually mean for us?

I wrote this article from the perspective of someone who has spent more than four decades trying to understand, in the most rational way possible, the extraordinary experience I underwent.

Like the film itself, my journey began with what philosophers call ontological shock—the profound disruption that occurs when reality no longer fits the framework through which we understand it.

Disclosure Day explores that shock largely through the debate over whether such knowledge should remain hidden from humanity.

My own experience led me toward another dimension of the same phenomenon: the possibility that such a shock can also become profoundly transformative, expanding one's understanding of reality rather than simply shattering it.

This article is organized around several themes through which I hope to illustrate some of the striking parallels I found between Disclosure Day and my own book, ONE, published about five years ago.

These parallels do not necessarily mean that the film and my book are saying the same thing.

Rather, they suggest that both are exploring many of the same fundamental questions about consciousness, human evolution, and what it might truly mean to encounter an intelligence unlike our own.

Recommended: If you haven't seen Disclosure Day, I recommend watching the official trailer before reading this article.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIvRblu2OD4

Telepathy — Is It Really Just the Transfer of Thoughts?

Of all the parallels I discovered between Disclosure Day and ONE, this was perhaps the first—and the one that surprised me the most.

For years, we have tended to think of telepathy as the transmission of thoughts. As if, instead of speaking aloud, one person simply "broadcasts" information while another "receives" it.

That was my understanding as well—until the encounter I experienced in 1981.

That is not how I experienced communication with the beings I met.

Even years later, when I began writing ONE, I realized how difficult it was to put that experience into words.

Naturally, I tried to reconstruct the telepathic dialogue between us.

I wrote:

"I asked..."

"They answered..."

But time after time, I deleted what I had written. Something about that description simply wasn't true.

I couldn't separate the question from the answer. The moment a question arose within me, the answer was already there.

Not because it had been delivered instantaneously, but because there was no ordinary sequence of question, waiting, and response. There was only a single, complete, immediate understanding. Then I encountered another difficulty.

When I tried to translate that understanding into language, I realized that much of it simply could not be expressed in words. It contained layers of meaning that resisted verbal description.

The communication I experienced was not an exchange of information.

It was connection.

A connection between two consciousnesses.

It seemed as though the Visitors' consciousness was open to me, allowing me to understand reality from their perspective.

I did not receive words. I did not hear sentences.

I received understanding.

Only afterward did my own mind translate that understanding into the language I knew.

Looking back, I believe this may have been the greatest gift of the encounter.

For a brief moment, the Visitors allowed me to experience what it feels like for two distinct consciousnesses to be deeply connected without either losing its individuality.

Perhaps that was the first time I truly understood the meaning of One.

Not as the disappearance of the self, but as the connection between selves.

That idea became one of the central themes running throughout my book—and ultimately the reason I chose ONE as its title.

When I watched Disclosure Day, I was surprised to discover that, at least as I understood the film, telepathy is portrayed in much the same way.

In one scene, the message conveyed by one of the Visitors does not feel like a sentence translated from an alien language.

Instead, it seems to arise directly within the human mind, already expressed in the recipient's own language.

Watching that scene immediately brought me back to the struggle I had years earlier while trying to write my book.

Eventually, I realized that understanding precedes language.

Language does not create understanding.

It merely translates it.

In ONE, I described the experience this way:

"...At that very moment I began experiencing them within my own consciousness. Instantly, the awareness of the being standing before me flowed completely into me, and through him, the awareness of everyone else in the room as well. Their expressions did not change, yet everything they thought and felt also became part of me, expanding my own consciousness. Their thoughts were not composed of defined words. They were a vast, flowing landscape of awareness, experiencing an existence beyond anything I had ever known..."

Years after writing those words, I found myself trying to understand what had actually happened.

That attempt led me to write another chapter in ONE, in which I explored what I now believe telepathic communication may actually be.

I wrote:

"...Because your concept of communication is based entirely on transmitting and receiving, you naturally assume that telepathy—whether between yourselves or with us—works in the same way, as thoughts being sent from one mind to another. But telepathy involves neither transmission nor reception. It arises from complete connection. It is one expression of the awareness of the underlying unity that already exists. Many who have communicated with us believe they received thoughts or words implanted into their minds—in their own language. Yet what actually occurs is something far deeper."

In fact, Spielberg appears to take this idea one step further.

He portrays one of the characters using this capacity to merge his consciousness with another person's consciousness.

I don't know whether this was truly the filmmakers' intention.

I only know that this is how I experienced the film.

Perhaps that is why this particular scene remained with me long after the lights came up in the theater.

If telepathy is not merely the transfer of information, but rather a connection between consciousnesses, then another question immediately arises:

What makes such a connection possible?

That question led me to the next striking parallel between Disclosure Day and ONE.

If telepathy is connection rather than communication, then perhaps there is only one word that explains what makes that connection possible.

Empathy.

Empathy — The Greatest Evolutionary Advantage

Of all the conversations in Disclosure Day, one stopped me more than any other.

There was no spacecraft.

No dramatic revelation.

It was simply a conversation between two people.

Hugo, one of the leaders advocating for public disclosure of the Visitors' existence, is speaking with Noah, who believes humanity is not yet ready for such a revelation.

At one point Hugo says:

"...They see empathy as an evolutionary advantage. In fact, the greatest evolutionary advantage. It lies at the very core of our existence, and rejecting or ignoring it ultimately leads to our extinction."

The moment I heard those words, they brought me back instantly to one of the deepest memories that remained from my own encounter in 1981.

Over the years, people have often asked me what impressed me most about meeting the Visitors.

They usually expected me to talk about telepathy.

Or their technology.

Or their extraordinary knowledge.

But if I am completely faithful to what I actually experienced, my answer is different.

The most profound thing I encountered was not their knowledge.

It was their way of being.

I remember a quality that is difficult to describe.

There was no sense of competition among them.

No deception.

No struggle.

Instead, there was complete openness.

Acceptance.

Peace.

At the time, I would not have used the word empathy.

If I had tried to describe what I experienced back then, I probably would have called it love.

Only years later, while trying to understand what I had actually experienced, did I begin asking myself whether love and empathy might simply be two expressions of the same underlying principle.

Could empathy be more than a moral virtue?

Could it be a fundamental mode of consciousness itself?

When I returned to ONE, I found that I had already tried to describe exactly this experience.

In the opening chapter I wrote:

"Their consciousness was now completely open to me, like an open book. I experienced them as gentle, calm, clear, and transparent. I noticed that their thoughts and emotions existed in perfect harmony, without separation. I felt acceptance and love flowing from them toward me—not because of anything I had done, but simply because of who I was. They accepted themselves in exactly the same way: without conditions, without limits, without judgment. They were transparent to themselves and to one another. There was no need to hide, to pretend, to suppress, or to become anything other than exactly what they were in that moment.

I felt that they loved and accepted themselves completely, without doubt or judgment, and this same acceptance extended naturally toward one another, toward humanity, and toward everything around them."

Reading those words again after watching Disclosure Day, I realized that what resonated with me was not simply the idea of empathy.

It was the central place it occupies.

In the film, empathy is explicitly described as humanity's greatest evolutionary advantage.

In my experience, however, empathy was never merely an idea.

It appeared to be a natural consequence of how the Visitors perceived reality itself.

It was reflected in the way they related to one another.

In the way they related to me.

Even in the way they related to themselves.

Perhaps that is why, over the years, I gradually came to see love as something far greater than an emotion.

Perhaps love is one of the deepest expressions of an evolved consciousness.

Again, I cannot know whether this was the filmmakers' intention.

I only know that when Hugo spoke those words, I felt as though I were encountering once again an understanding that had first touched me more than forty years ago.

Is the Purpose of the Encounter to Reveal the Visitors—Or to Reveal Ourselves?

One of the central questions raised throughout Disclosure Day is whether humanity is truly ready for disclosure.

Throughout the film, an ongoing debate unfolds between those who believe the time has come to reveal the truth and those who fear that humanity is still unprepared for the consequences such a revelation would bring.

But while watching the film, I found myself asking a different question.

Suppose humanity were to discover, beyond any doubt, that we are not alone in the universe.

What would actually change?

Would knowledge alone transform us?

Or does genuine transformation depend on something much deeper?

That question accompanied me throughout the years following my own encounter.

As time passed, I realized that the encounter itself was not the most important part of the experience.

The truly important question was:

What did it awaken within me?

Did it change the way I understand myself?

The way I understand other people?

Our relationships with one another?

The meaning of empathy?

Humanity's place within a reality far larger than the one we normally perceive?

For that reason, when I hear the debate over disclosure in the film, I find it difficult to see it merely as a debate about the existence of the Visitors.

I hear another question hidden beneath it.

Are we truly prepared to look at ourselves?

Is the Purpose of the Encounter to Reveal the Visitors—or to Reveal Ourselves?

One of the central questions raised in Disclosure Day is whether humanity is ready for disclosure.

Throughout the film, the disagreement repeatedly returns between those who believe the time has come to reveal the truth, and those who fear that humanity is still not ready to cope with the implications of such a revelation.

But while watching the film, I found myself thinking about a different question.

Suppose that humanity were to discover, beyond any doubt, that we are not alone in the universe.

What would actually change within us?

Would that knowledge alone change us?

Or does true change depend on something else—something much deeper?

This was also one of the questions that accompanied me during the years following my own encounter.

As time passed, I realized that the encounter itself was not the most important thing.

The important question was what it awakened within me.

Did it change the way I understand myself?

The way I understand other human beings?

The relationships between us?

The meaning of empathy?

Humanity's place within a reality far greater than the one we ordinarily perceive?

For that reason, when I hear the debate in the film about disclosure, I find it difficult to see it merely as a debate about the existence of the Visitors.

I also hear another question:

Are we truly ready to look at ourselves?

Over the years, I have been asked many times:

"Tell me—what do they want from us?"

It is a natural question.

But the more I tried to answer it, the more I felt that it overlooked something much deeper.

Perhaps the more important question is not what they wanted from us.

Perhaps it is what we are meant to learn from the encounter.

If such an encounter has any meaning, perhaps it does not begin with the discovery of another civilization.

Perhaps it begins with the discovery of a broader possibility of what it means to be human.

While rereading ONE during the writing of this article, I noticed that many of its central ideas are not really about the Visitors at all.

They are about consciousness.

About empathy.

About love.

About God.

They explore the possibility that human beings can evolve beyond the way they currently perceive themselves.

In that sense, the Visitors are not the center of the story.

They are the catalyst.

They are the ones who awaken the questions.

But the answers, if they exist, are found within us.

When the screening of Disclosure Day ended, I did not leave the theater thinking primarily about the Visitors.

I left thinking about humanity.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons I felt such a strong affinity between the film and my book.

In both, at least as I experienced them, the encounter with the "Other" is not the end of the story.

It is the beginning.

Only while working on this article did I understand again why, years ago, I chose the subtitle of my book:

ONE – Face-to-Face Contact, Experiencing ET Consciousness, and Human Consciousness Evolution.

At the time, it was mostly an intuition.

Today I understand much better why I chose those particular words.

The encounter itself was extraordinary.

But for me, it was never the whole story.

It was the starting point of a journey to understand what may change within a human being as a result of such an experience.

In Chapter 11 of ONE, I tried to express that understanding in words:

"...At present, you are aware that your communication with one another functions only through the body, through the physical boundaries that separate you from one another. Yet there is a place within your physical body that serves as a bridge between the physical dimension and other dimensions. It is unique to human beings, being both physical and non-physical at the same time.

Your bodily consciousness is generally not yet aware of this, and the evolution of your consciousness is the awakening of physical awareness to it.

We become known to you through the point of contact between your conscious awareness and the undefined spaces of your consciousness. You may call this contact with your soul.

Our communication with you is also the beginning of your becoming acquainted with yourselves."

When I read that final sentence again after watching Disclosure Day, I felt that it expressed precisely the question that remained with me after the film ended.

Could it be that encountering the Visitors—or "the Others"—is not only a way of getting to know them, but also a new way of getting to know ourselves?

If so, then perhaps the greatest question is not whether we are alone in the universe.

Perhaps the greatest question is whether we truly know ourselves.

Or reality itself.

Does Contact with Another Intelligence Distance Us from God —or Bring Us Closer?

One of the central questions raised in Disclosure Day is how the discovery of another intelligence would affect humanity's belief in God.

Throughout the film, some of the characters argue that humanity is still not ready for disclosure. One of the reasons they give is the fear that such a discovery could undermine religious beliefs and trigger a profound spiritual crisis.

This is not merely a question raised by the film.

It is a question that many people ask outside the movie theater as well.

If there exists an intelligence more advanced than our own, is there still room for belief in God?

My own experience led me to almost the opposite conclusion.

Before my encounter, I was not especially preoccupied with questions of faith.

But during the encounter itself, something happened that I had never expected.

I was not given a theological explanation.

No religious doctrines were presented to me.

The Visitors did not try to persuade me to believe.

Nor did they present any particular religious worldview.

Instead, through my connection with their consciousness, I felt—if only for a few moments—that they lived with a profound awareness of a single source of reality.

A source that belonged to no particular religion.

Nor to any particular people.

But to existence itself.

At that time, I had no way to describe what I had experienced.

Only years later did I attempt to put it into words in ONE.

In the first chapter, where I recount the encounter, I wrote:

"...Together with them, I now became aware of another presence—a presence of immense love that extended far beyond the Visitors themselves, coming from another source that I could not comprehend. It was a love that illuminated something within me, awakening something I had forgotten.

As I became aware of this light, I felt a current of happiness flowing through me like running water. I suddenly became aware of a place within my human body that had always contained this infinite light—a kind of immense power and love beyond my ability to define or understand, a love whose source existed beyond me and beyond the Visitors themselves.

I tried to understand where this light was coming from. I experienced it in every cell of my body and in every particle of my being. I knew it was the foundation of my existence and my consciousness—of everything I was aware of—and that it sustained, upheld, and brought all of it into being.

It was clear to me that this was also the source of life itself—the One Light that contains all existence and all reality.

I knew that, for the Visitors, their constant awareness of this source was the foundation of their security, their peace, and their happiness—and, in those moments, of mine as well."

Every time I return to this passage, I am reminded that the Visitors themselves were not the center of the experience.

They were the ones who enabled me, for a brief moment, to see reality through their perspective.

And what I saw from that perspective was not them.

It was what they themselves were aware of.

Perhaps that is why the encounter did not distance me from faith.

It enabled me to understand its meaning.

Since then, whenever I use the word God, I do not necessarily think of a particular religious concept.

I think of that source of reality, of consciousness, of life itself—of Being itself—which the Visitors seemed to perceive naturally and continuously.

In the film, some of the characters fear that contact with the Visitors will undermine humanity's belief in God.

I left my own encounter with precisely the opposite feeling.

I did not feel that my faith had weakened.

On the contrary.

It expanded.

For me, it ceased to be merely an idea to believe in and became an experience from which I continue to live to this day.

The Greatest Disclosure

Although the book and the film both revolve around the moment of encounter, they are two very different works.

They were created at different times. They emerged from different points of departure.

Yet they lead us back to many of the same questions.

What is consciousness? How does understanding arise? What is the role of empathy?

What is the source of reality? And what changes within a human being after encountering something that shatters the ordinary way we perceive the world?

These are also the questions that have accompanied me since my encounter in 1981.

And they are the same questions that remained with me after watching Disclosure Day.

Over the years, I have been asked countless questions about the Visitors.

What did they look like? How did they communicate? Where did they come from?

How did their technology work?

I understand that curiosity. I would have asked the same questions myself.

But as the years passed, I found myself becoming less and less interested in those questions.

Because one question gradually became far more important to me.

What happened to me after the encounter?

What changed within me?

How did my perception of reality change?

And what might happen to all of us?

What new understanding of reality might eventually emerge?

Perhaps that is also why I chose to call the book ONE.

At the heart of that word lies the possibility that reality is deeper, more interconnected, than we are accustomed to believing.

And that an encounter with the Visitors may simply remind us of that connection.

I do not know whether humanity truly stands on the threshold of full disclosure.

I do not know what the coming years will bring.

But if such an encounter has a deeper meaning, it does not end with the discovery of another civilization.

It begins with the question of what we choose to do with that discovery.

Will it merely satisfy our curiosity?

Or will it invite us to change?

Ultimately, perhaps the greatest discovery is not that another intelligence exists somewhere in the universe.

Perhaps the greatest discovery is that encountering it may compel us to rediscover ourselves.

And if that is true, then perhaps the most important Disclosure is not the revelation of them. It is the revelation of ourselves.