When Tucker Carlson sits down with a congressman who literally sells a T-shirt that says “More people believe in UFOs than in Congress,” you know you’re in for something special. His interview, “New Underwater UFO Sightings and the Non-Human Tech the Government Is Hiding,” featuring Tennessee’s Rep. Tim Burchett, is part confessional, part campfire story, and part bureaucratic horror film. Naturally, we at Are We Aliens had thoughts.
Burchett kicks off by saying what a lot of UFO researchers have been shouting for years: there’s been a 70-year disinformation campaign designed to keep the public dizzy. According to him, it’s not that everyone involved is lying—many of them genuinely believe what they’re told—but the result is the same: confusion, denial, and redacted PDFs that look like avant-garde art.
Burchett’s Motto: “You Can’t FOIA Lockheed Martin”
His personal interest started innocently enough in the 1970s, when he was a library kid in small-town Tennessee, bouncing between books about the occult, Bigfoot, and UFOs. Add in a little Bible study (“Ezekiel saw the wheel, and it sounded a lot like a landing gear”), and you can see how a lifelong curiosity might start. Fast-forward a few decades, and that kid is a congressman sleeping on his office couch, asking Pentagon officials questions they don’t want to answer.
Burchett describes how he predicted a major UFO report would be delayed, heavily redacted, and generally useless—and sure enough, it was. Then came the congressional hearing that went viral: packed rooms, people lining up before dawn, ministers, pilots, and even old-money skeptics all showing up to say, “We’re not crazy. We just want the truth.” When’s the last time Congress inspired that kind of enthusiasm for anything?
His reasons for the cover-up are classic but convincing: power (keep the good stuff in the inner circle), money (free energy doesn’t help defense contractors), and arrogance (because Washington). He argues that the most sensitive information has been moved off the books and into private contractors’ hands—where FOIA can’t touch it. “You can’t FOIA Lockheed Martin,” he jokes, and he’s not wrong.
Then there’s the wild part: Burchett insists he’s heard from military insiders who’ve seen things moving at 200 mph underwater—craft the size of football fields that make no noise and generate no heat. Our best subs rarely exceed 40 mph, so either someone’s rewritten physics or Poseidon’s got a secret space program.
And about those classified briefings? He calls them traps. You walk in hoping for answers, get handed what’s already public, and now you’re legally forbidden to talk about it. It’s the government equivalent of “thanks for coming to this meeting that could’ve been an email.”
What’s compelling is Burchett’s mix of blunt skepticism and faith. He’s not claiming little green men—just that something real, powerful, and deeply buried is being kept from the public. He jokes that Congress is too ADD to stay focused on disclosure (“Americans want their pizza in 30 minutes or less, and that’s about Congress’s attention span”), but he keeps pressing anyway.
In the end, Carlson seems both amused and alarmed. The congressman’s stories veer from undersea mysteries to insider corruption, from whistleblowers in hiding to the strange bureaucracy of secrecy itself. It’s equal parts exposé and existential shrug. Burchett’s bottom line? Whatever these things are, they’re not ours, not Russia’s, not China’s—and definitely not staying still.
What Do We Make of It?
Tucker got what every interviewer hopes for: an unpolished, unfiltered believer with nothing to lose. Burchett’s sincerity makes him easy to underestimate—but maybe that’s why his words resonate. You don’t have to agree with everything he says (or anything, really) to appreciate the uncomfortable point he keeps circling: when the people funding the military can’t even get straight answers from it, something’s off.
Whether you call it a cover-up, compartmentalization, or cosmic bureaucracy, the story isn’t about saucers—it’s about secrecy. We might not know what’s flying over our heads or swimming beneath our oceans, but we do know this: curiosity shouldn’t be classified.
And that, dear reader, is why Are We Aliens exists—to keep poking holes in the fog until something resembling the truth shines through.