There’s nothing quite as inspiring — or insulting — as the ancient astronaut theory: the belief that early civilizations could not possibly have built pyramids, temples, or intricate road systems without the intervention of extraterrestrial babysitters.
The premise, for those unfamiliar: aliens visited Earth thousands of years ago, uplifted our ancestors, taught them how to align stones and carve lumpy statues, and then — as benevolent interstellar tourists — promptly vanished without leaving behind anything more advanced than suspiciously symmetrical piles of rocks.
You’ve probably encountered this theory if you’ve ever watched late-night cable TV and wondered how a show called “Ancient Aliens” has run for 20 seasons without once upgrading its special effects budget.
Proponents love to point at impressive ancient structures — the Pyramids of Giza, Stonehenge, the Nazca Lines — and solemnly intone, “How could primitive people have done this?”
The answer, apparently, is not “hard work, ingenuity, and centuries of trial and error.” It’s “space architects with really bad follow-up support.”
There’s a certain bleak genius to the theory. It says:
- Humans can’t possibly be clever on their own.
- Aliens took the time to fly across galaxies, only to help build ceremonial tombs and lay out giant pictures of birds in the desert.
- Then they left, having taught no one how to invent plumbing, antibiotics, or effective political systems.
During my travels, I attended an Ancient Astronaut Theory Symposium — an experience that mostly involved grown adults pointing at bad Photoshop slides and nodding knowingly.
One speaker solemnly claimed the Sphinx was a “gift” from an alien lion-worshipping race. Another showed an “artist’s rendering” of an alien helping stack stones in Peru. There was a lively debate over whether the aliens preferred gold, crystals, or ancient corn as trade currency. Consensus was not reached.
Ancient astronaut theory doesn’t honor human history. It insults it. It reduces thousands of years of brilliance, resilience, and innovation into a cosmic fairy tale where ancient peoples weren’t smart — they were just lucky enough to catch a ride from the galactic Home Depot delivery team.
If there are aliens watching us today, I can only hope they’re as embarrassed by these theories as I am.