UFOlogy has a branding problem. Between the conspiracy theorists yelling about shadow governments and the academics who treat every anomaly like a personal insult, the field desperately needs someone who remembers that mystery is supposed to be fun. Enter David Hatcher Childress—adventurer, author, and the only man who can make ancient megaliths sound like the setup for a really good campfire story.
We love him. Unapologetically. And here's why you should, too.
The Man Who Actually Goes Places
While most researchers are content to rehash the same Wikipedia entries from their parents' basement, Childress straps on a backpack and disappears into the jungles of Bolivia or the deserts of Peru. He doesn't just theorize about lost civilizations—he wades through actual mud looking for them.
His Lost Cities series reads like a travel diary written by someone who genuinely believes the world still has secrets worth finding. And whether he's trekking through the Himalayas or poking around Easter Island, there's an infectious enthusiasm that makes you want to book a flight and join him. When's the last time an academic paper made you feel that?
He's Wrong Sometimes—And That's Okay
Here's the thing about Childress: he's not always right. Sometimes he's gloriously wrong. Ancient astronauts building the pyramids? Atlantean power grids? Vimanas dogfighting over ancient India? Some of it lands, some of it doesn't, and honestly? That's what makes him interesting.
Unlike the stone-faced skeptics who treat every unconventional idea like a personal attack, Childress tosses theories into the ring and lets the evidence duke it out. He's more interested in asking "what if?" than in being the smartest guy in the room. And in a field dominated by gatekeepers and trolls, that kind of intellectual playfulness is refreshing.
The Ancient Aliens Era
Say what you will about the History Channel's most meme-able show, but Ancient Aliens gave Childress a platform to reach millions of people who might never have cracked open a book about Puma Punku. Yes, the show can be repetitive. Yes, Giorgio Tsoukalos' hair has its own gravitational field. But Childress brought a groundedness to the chaos—a guy who'd actually been to these places and could describe them with the kind of detail that only comes from standing there, sweating, and wondering.
He never came across as a huckster. He came across as someone genuinely curious about the unexplained, willing to follow the trail even when it led somewhere weird. That authenticity is rare, especially on cable television.
The Beard of Destiny
We'd be remiss if we didn't mention it: the man has a magnificent beard. It's the kind of facial hair that says, "I've seen things in remote valleys you wouldn't believe." It's a beard that belongs on the prow of a ship or carved into the side of a mountain. In a world of clean-shaven talking heads and TikTok influencers, Childress looks like he just stepped out of a Rudyard Kipling novel—and we mean that as the highest compliment.
He Keeps the Spirit of Exploration Alive
At the heart of it all, what we love most about David Hatcher Childress is this: he makes the unknown exciting again. Not scary. Not forbidden. Not wrapped in layers of academic jargon or drowned in conspiracy paranoia. Just... exciting.
He reminds us that the world is still strange, still full of questions we can't answer, and still worth exploring. Whether he's speculating about anti-gravity stones or mapping out forgotten trade routes, he approaches it all with the wide-eyed wonder of someone who genuinely loves the mystery more than the answer.
Why UFOlogy Needs More Childresses
The UAP community is at a crossroads. On one side, you've got the true believers who think every light in the sky is an intergalactic Uber. On the other, you've got the hardcore skeptics who wouldn't believe in aliens if E.T. personally showed up to their book club. Both camps are exhausting.
Childress occupies a rare middle ground. He's open-minded without being gullible. He's skeptical without being cynical. And most importantly, he's having a good time with it all. In a field that takes itself way too seriously, that's not just refreshing—it's necessary.
Meeting a Legend in Scottsdale
Our own Tom Foster got to experience the Childress magic firsthand at the recent Quest for Ancient Civilizations conference in Scottsdale. Picture this: a room full of people who've spent their lives asking uncomfortable questions, swapping stories about megaliths and mysterious artifacts, and genuinely excited to be there. No cynicism. No eye-rolling. Just pure, unfiltered curiosity.
And there, holding court like the patron saint of "what if," was David Hatcher Childress himself.
Tom describes the encounter like meeting Indiana Jones at a dive bar—equal parts surreal and exactly right. Childress was gracious, funny, and still bursting with enthusiasm about his next expedition. No pretense. No ego. Just a guy who's spent decades chasing mysteries and still lights up when someone asks him about ancient trade routes or impossible stonework.
But here's what struck Tom most: it wasn't just Childress. It was the entire atmosphere of the Quest for Ancient Civilizations. This wasn't some fringe gathering of basement-dwelling conspiracy theorists. It was a community of sharp, passionate, open-minded people who refuse to accept that all the world's mysteries have already been solved. Researchers, enthusiasts, skeptics, and believers all sharing space, sharing ideas, and—most importantly—having an absolute blast doing it.
Why You Should Go
If you've ever found yourself staring at footage of Göbekli Tepe at 2 a.m., wondering how the hell they moved those stones, the Quest for Ancient Civilizations is your people. If you've ever wanted to ask a real researcher about Atlantis without getting laughed out of the room, this is your chance. And if you've ever wanted to meet someone like David Hatcher Childress—someone who's actually done the thing instead of just talking about it—well, you know where to be.
The conference isn't just informative. It's inspirational. You leave with a notebook full of ideas, a reading list twice as long as when you arrived, and a renewed sense that the world still has secrets worth chasing. In an era where curiosity is increasingly treated as something to be managed and controlled, events like this are a breath of fresh air.
So mark your calendar. Book your ticket. Pack your questions and your sense of wonder. Because if there's one thing we've learned from David Hatcher Childress, it's that the best adventures start when you stop waiting for permission and just go see for yourself.