Signals of Hostility: Fifth Generation Warfare, Non-Human Intelligence, and the Crisis of Human Communication

I. Introduction: The Message We Didn’t Know We Sent

In the 21st century, humanity entered a new kind of warfare—one without front lines, uniforms, or formal declarations. Known as Fifth Generation Warfare (5GW), this form of conflict is fought not with bullets, but with symbols, narratives, and perceptions. It is decentralized, psychological, and often invisible, weaponizing information itself as a tool of influence, destabilization, and control. This type of warfare doesn’t just operate between nations—it invades personal lives, political systems, and belief structures.

In earlier work, I coined the term hegemonic conflict to describe this emerging form of warfare. Hegemonic conflict emphasizes the struggle over who gets to define truth, identity, and social meaning. It is a war not for territory, but for epistemological dominance. As such, hegemonic conflict is nearly synonymous with Fifth Generation Warfare—so close, in fact, that the two can be considered mutually reinforcing frameworks for understanding how warfare has evolved beyond the physical into the cognitive and cultural domains.

But perhaps the most alarming aspect of this evolution is one that few recognize: we may have already involved another species in our hegemonic conflict.

Since late 2024, the skies and seas of our planet have been increasingly populated by Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena (UAPs)—objects that defy human understanding and technological classification. While many default to labeling them “drones” or foreign surveillance devices, these phenomena consistently resist human attempts to identify or control them. When examined holistically, they point not toward conventional adversaries, but toward the involvement of Non-Human Intelligence (NHI).

This is not merely a scientific question—it is a civilizational one.

By appropriating the presence of UAPs into our information ecosystem—using them as fuel for political campaigns, psychological operations, and cultural manipulation—we have turned them into information-generating objects within a 5GW framework. In doing so, we have pulled NHI into our own warfare, treating their existence not as an invitation to prepare for peaceful contact, but as symbolic material to escalate human-on-human narrative battles. Put simply: we may have already declared war on another species—unintentionally, but unmistakably—through our information behavior.

At the root of this crisis is an epistemological failure. For millennia, humans have assumed that language is personal—an act of self-expression. But as hegemonic conflict and fifth generation warfare both reveal, language is not merely expressive; it is a weaponized knowledge technology. What we say, write, and circulate doesn’t just reflect who we are—it projects who we are to others, including potential NHI observers. In this context, our chaotic, weaponized language may well be broadcasting to the cosmos that we are a species at war with itself, and possibly with others.

This essay argues that our current trajectory—rooted in cognitive warfare, saturated with epistemological negligence, and addicted to narrative domination—has positioned humanity as a threat rather than a peaceful participant in the Multiverse. The question “Are we alone?” should have already been answered. But more importantly, we should already be coordinating a peaceful response. Instead, we are radiating signals of instability, aggression, and irrationality—broadcasting a species-wide message that we do not fully understand, but which others might interpret very clearly.

Unless we change course—consciously and urgently—we risk becoming not just victims of our own hegemonic conflict, but unwilling combatants in an inter-species war we never intended to start.

II. The Epistemological Failure of Modern Society: Induction, Deduction, and the Crisis of Truth

At the core of humanity’s confusion over Non-Human Intelligence (NHI) is not merely a lack of data—it is a failure of epistemology. Specifically, it is a failure to choose the right tool for producing truth. This failure is not isolated to the scientific community or policymakers; it is endemic to the culture at large. In an era where fifth generation warfare and hegemonic conflict dominate public discourse, we are witnessing the global consequences of this misalignment between data and method.

Epistemology, the philosophical study of knowledge production, offers multiple pathways for arriving at truth. Two of the most fundamental are deduction and induction. Yet modern society has become addicted to deduction—an epistemological shortcut that attempts to extrapolate sweeping truths from narrow, idealized inputs. This addiction is especially pronounced in the scientific-industrial complex, where grant funding, publication pressure, and institutional prestige incentivize knowledge production that is fast, reductionist, and convenient. Deduction is efficient—but not always appropriate.

Induction, by contrast, is slow, rigorous, and systems-oriented. It works by assembling large, diverse sets of data points, and then deriving logical relationships among them to form general conclusions. It is not designed to give us certainty from a single source; rather, it builds truth as a function of aggregation. It requires effort. And in the case of NHI, induction is the only valid epistemological tool.

When we ask the question, “Are we alone in the universe?” we are asking something that deduction cannot answer—because we do not possess the ideal initial inputs deduction demands. We do not have a live alien on camera at a press conference. But what we do have is far more profound: millennia of reports, artifacts, cave paintings, inexplicable phenomena, statistical probabilities, and, in recent years, multiple whistleblowers providing formal testimony to Congress regarding secretive programs, reverse engineering efforts, and potential contact with NHI. These are not isolated stories—they are pieces of a growing body of information that the deductive model is unequipped to handle.

In deductive terms, these are “weak” data points. But in inductive terms, they form a massive constellation of evidence—a trillion feathers that, together, weigh four tons, and ultimately provide us with the truthful conclusions we seek.

And yet, society continues to insist there is “no evidence.” This is not just factually wrong—it is epistemologically incoherent. The truth is that there is not enough evidence to satisfy deductive reasoning, but there is more than enough to reach an inductive conclusion. The implication is clear: if we accept that truth must emerge from the full system of available data, then we are not alone, and we never have been.

This epistemological negligence—our failure to switch from deduction to induction—is not a passive oversight. It is a symptom of hegemonic conflict. In hegemonic conflict, the battle is not merely over facts, but over which epistemological tools are socially legitimate. Deduction has become hegemonic precisely because it can be more easily controlled, politicized, and weaponized. Induction, by requiring inclusivity and system-wide analysis, threatens dominant paradigms. Thus, it is sidelined—even when it is the only rational choice.

In fifth generation warfare, truth is not what is, but what can be weaponized. And when we ignore inductive logic in favor of deductive shortcuts, we allow entire populations to be misled into believing that we are alone in the cosmos—not because the data says so, but because the wrong tool was chosen to read it.

Unless we correct this foundational error—unless we rehabilitate induction and hold our institutions accountable to proper epistemological practice—we will remain trapped in self-imposed ignorance. Worse, we will continue broadcasting that ignorance to any intelligent species watching us.

III. The UAP Phenomenon as Involuntary Recruitment into Fifth Generation Warfare

The presence of Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena (UAPs) in Earth’s skies and oceans has, for decades, raised profound existential questions. But in the last several years—and especially since late 2024—UAP activity has escalated in both volume and visibility. Governments around the world have acknowledged their presence. Military pilots have captured inexplicable aerial maneuvers. Civilian witnesses and whistleblowers alike have pushed the conversation out of the margins and into the mainstream.

Yet instead of collectively organizing a coherent response to this phenomenon—one grounded in humility, logic, and peaceful intention—human societies have absorbed UAPs into the informational chaos of fifth generation warfare. These phenomena are no longer just objects of scientific curiosity or evidence of advanced life; they have become tools of narrative warfare. They are seized upon to sow division, justify secrecy, radicalize online communities, and manipulate public trust. They are interpreted not through epistemological rigor, but through fear, opportunism, and tribal loyalty.

This is a catastrophic mistake.

Because once we understand that UAPs may represent the activity of Non-Human Intelligence (NHI), then their integration into fifth generation warfare has a staggering implication: we have involuntarily recruited NHI into our intra-species conflict.

By weaponizing the UAP narrative—whether through disinformation, political theatre, or militarized speculation—humanity has entangled technologically superior lifeforms into our own hegemonic conflict. We have begun to treat the presence of these intelligences not as a call to peaceful engagement, but as narrative raw material in our own civil wars.

Put more bluntly: we may have already declared war on another species, not through intention, but through informational behavior.

This is not just a poetic metaphor. In fifth generation warfare, perception is the battlefield and messaging is ammunition. Any intelligent observer—especially one with far greater cognitive and technological capacities than our own—could plausibly interpret our behavior as the buildup to hostilities. What might they see?

• A global species flooded with paranoia and tribal propaganda.

• Institutions weaponizing mystery to control public perception.

• Civilians producing and sharing language that mimics military-level psychological operations.

• A collective that cannot interpret anomalous contact without folding it into its own aggression narrative.

This is how hegemonic conflict and fifth generation warfare intersect with the NHI question. The issue is no longer just whether NHI exist—it is what they see when they watch us. Do they see a rational species, capable of self-awareness and dialogue? Or do they see a chaotic, reactive, hostile intelligence too unstable to trust?

If the latter, then humanity is broadcasting the worst possible signal—one not just of ignorance, but of accidental aggression.

IV. Language as a Weaponized Knowledge Technology

One of the most overlooked—and most dangerous—realities of fifth generation warfare is that language itself has become weaponized. In a world saturated with cognitive conflict, language is no longer just a tool for interpersonal communication or personal identity. It is, and always has been, a knowledge production technology—a system that shapes, structures, and distributes meaning. Its role in producing truth is not conditioned on whether or not humans recognize it as such.

For thousands of years, humans have operated under the mistaken assumption that self-expression is merely expressive—that language is an outlet for individual identity, emotion, and belief. But this assumption was always incomplete. The function of language extends beyond personal narrative. It is a mechanism that produces epistemic aggregates—that is, truths—by organizing symbols into communicable patterns that structure what societies know, believe, and act upon.

In the fifth generation warfare environment, this deeper nature of language is exposed—and exploited. What once passed as harmless opinion or casual speech now carries the weight of strategic significance. Every utterance, post, or symbol contributes to an information ecosystem that influences perception, behavior, and societal trajectory.

And increasingly, this ecosystem is weaponized.

Much of what humans today call “free speech”—especially in the United States—is unknowingly embedded in systems of psychological manipulation. People believe they are merely voicing personal opinions, but they are often reproducing symbolic content that has been engineered to polarize, destabilize, or misinform. In this way, self-expression has become one of the most efficient delivery systems for informational weapons.

This reality sits at the heart of hegemonic conflict—a term I introduced to describe the war over who controls truth, meaning, and the architecture of reality itself. In hegemonic conflict, language is not neutral; it is the primary terrain over which dominance is contested. And when it becomes saturated with aggression, paranoia, and epistemic confusion, it doesn’t just threaten national cohesion—it threatens our very capacity to relate to other intelligences coherently.

If Non-Human Intelligence is observing humanity, then they are not merely studying our technologies or our behaviors. They are studying our language—the informational output of our collective mind. And if they interpret language as the truth-generating technology that it is, then our global discourse today sends a deeply troubling message: this species is unstable, adversarial, and unready for responsible communication.

What matters most in this context is not our intent, but the signal we are emitting. In a world defined by fifth generation warfare, intention is no longer the measure of consequence. The language we produce—whether conscious or not—is shaping how others, human or not, will understand us.

If we want to change the message, we must first change how we understand language. Until then, we remain trapped in a self-generated feedback loop of informational hostility—broadcasting confusion into a universe that might be listening.

V. The American Fifth Generation Civil War

Nowhere is the phenomenon of fifth generation warfare more visible—or more tragic—than in the contemporary United States. The nation is not engaged in a conventional civil war, with armies or territorial lines. Instead, it is gripped by a fifth generation civil war, waged not with bullets but with narratives, identities, conspiracies, and symbols. It plays out across media, education, public discourse, and social networks—fueled not by coordinated strategies, but by ambient, constant informational combat.

Most Americans believe they are simply exercising their right to free speech—voicing political opinions, defending values, or participating in democracy. In reality, however, countless citizens have become unwitting participants in hegemonic conflict, circulating and amplifying weaponized language, memes, and ideology. This content often originates from psychological operations designed to polarize and fragment—and yet it is repeated, believed, and weaponized by civilians under the guise of self-expression.

This is the essence of fifth generation warfare: a war of perceptions conducted by people who do not even know they are at war.

In my personal view, the American fifth generation civil war is perhaps the most pointless civil war in human history.

Unlike civil wars driven by famine, occupation, or survival, this one is waged by a population living in unprecedented material abundance. Americans are not being forced to fight; rather, they are choosing to fight, inventing symbolic battlegrounds out of relatively trivial or performative issues. And that is what makes this war so damning—not just to Americans themselves, but to the image of humanity being projected outward into the cosmos.

The very fact that Americans do not need to fight, yet actively choose to engage in ideological warfare, amplifies the message that humans want war.

This is a critical point. If non-human intelligences are observing Earth—and interpreting our informational behavior as a form of species-wide communication—then the American civil war broadcasts something far worse than desperation. It broadcasts aggression without necessity. A species with everything it needs, tearing itself apart not out of necessity, but out of desire.

From an external perspective, especially that of a more advanced intelligence, this signals voluntary hostility. It suggests that humans are not only conflict-prone, but conflict-seeking—a civilization psychologically addicted to war, even in times of abundance.

This message is not encoded in formal declarations—it is embedded in the data: the partisan outrage, the algorithmic polarization, the weaponized rhetoric flooding the digital commons. And all of it says the same thing: this species is at war with itself, and has no apparent interest in peace.

Unless Americans recognize the nature of the war they are fighting, and the message it sends beyond national borders and even planetary boundaries, this informational civil war will not only weaken the nation—it will also mark the species as unstable, undiplomatic, and potentially dangerous to others.

VI. The Strategic Implications of Being Watched

If Non-Human Intelligence (NHI) is observing Earth—a premise that induction strongly supports—then it follows that our species is not merely being watched for its technologies or biology, but for its cultural behavior, its epistemological posture, and its readiness to communicate.

From this vantage point, humanity’s actions in the age of fifth generation warfare send a clear, if deeply troubling, message.

We have already argued that language is a knowledge production technology, that humans are addicted to epistemological shortcuts, and that we’ve drawn NHI into our hegemonic conflicts by treating their presence as narrative fuel. But now we must ask: What does all of this look like to them?

What would a rational, technologically advanced observer see when watching a species that:

• Systematically weaponizes its own communication infrastructure?

• Treats knowledge as a tool for control rather than understanding?

• Engages in civil war not over survival, but over symbolic abstractions?

• Interprets the unknown not with humility, but with paranoia, denial, and militarization?

The answer is sobering.

To any intelligence capable of monitoring our informational behavior, humanity appears as a species that is not only unprepared for contact—but unwilling to become prepared. Our dominant epistemological tool, deduction, excludes most of the available evidence relevant to NHI. Our cultural norms encourage emotional reasoning over systemic analysis. And our political systems increasingly reward those who exploit confusion rather than those who clarify it.

Even more concerning, our behavior is escalating. The fifth generation civil war in the U.S., for example, does not appear to be winding down. It is accelerating. And the presence of UAPs has not catalyzed a global response rooted in curiosity or peaceful coordination. Instead, UAPs are used as psychological triggers, political leverage, and military justification.

This sends a highly specific signal: We do not seek peace—we seek advantage.

In the logic of fifth generation warfare, perception is reality. We may tell ourselves that we are rational, peaceful, and democratic. But the informational ecosystem we’ve created tells a different story—one of volatility, disorganization, and latent aggression.

NHI may not need to decode our intentions; they only need to observe our patterns.

And if they do, they may logically infer that humanity, as it stands, is too erratic, too divided, and too hostile to be trusted as a communicative species.

This isn’t about alien invasion tropes or science fiction fantasies. It’s about informational accountability. If we are broadcasting a message to the cosmos, even unintentionally, then we must consider what that message says, how it is structured, and whether we are prepared to take responsibility for it.

Because if we are being watched, we are also being evaluated.

And so far, we are failing the test.

VII. A New Use for Fifth Generation Warfare: Peace

Fifth generation warfare has revealed some of the darkest potentials of human civilization. It has shown us how easily language can be turned against us, how institutions can collapse under epistemological confusion, and how civilians can be weaponized in conflicts they don’t understand. But just as 5GW is capable of destabilizing reality, it is also capable of reconstructing it.

This is the paradox—and the opportunity.

If fifth generation warfare is fundamentally a struggle over perception, belief, and meaning, then it can be repurposed. Its tools—memes, narratives, symbols, decentralized media—can be used not only to sow division, but to build consensus, promote clarity, and project peace. This is not a naive suggestion; it is a strategic imperative.

In fact, at this stage in human development, the only valid application of fifth generation warfare is to promote world peace.

This is not just about creating harmony within nations. It is about managing our species-wide signal—what we are broadcasting to potential observers across the Multiverse. As it stands, our informational output looks like chaos. But if we are willing to collectively redirect the tools of 5GW, we could begin to communicate our true intentions: that we seek diplomacy, understanding, and peaceful coexistence with all forms of life, human and non-human alike.

To do this, we must embrace a new kind of epistemological discipline:

• We must teach people that language is not just expression—it is a truth-generating technology.

• We must rehabilitate inductive reasoning, especially in questions of civilizational scale.

• We must educate ourselves and others on how fifth generation warfare operates, so that people can stop unknowingly serving as vectors of conflict.

This isn’t utopian. It’s survival.

Because if we continue to misuse 5GW to divide, confuse, and destabilize—if we keep broadcasting hostility and incoherence—we will eventually encounter a force that sees us for what we appear to be: a threat.

But if we shift the signal—if we use the same mechanisms to generate trust, clarity, and peaceful intent—then we create the conditions for diplomatic contact, not conflict.

And we do something even more profound: we evolve.

In a world where perception is everything, 5GW is not just a weapon—it is a mirror. It reflects who we are and who we want to be. If we want to survive, and if we want to thrive in a Multiverse of intelligent life, we must choose to broadcast peace—intentionally, persistently, and systemically.

We have the tools.

What remains is the will.

VIII. Conclusion: We Must Choose Our Signal

Humanity stands at a crossroads—not just of science, politics, or diplomacy, but of epistemology and intention. In an age of fifth generation warfare, we no longer have the luxury of thinking that our words, actions, or narratives are confined to the personal or national. Everything we produce—every symbol, every argument, every tweet—becomes part of a species-level broadcast.

We are sending a signal. The only question is whether we are choosing that signal consciously.

Through our addiction to deductive shortcuts, our misuse of language, and our weaponization of perception, we have constructed an informational landscape that tells a story of chaos. It is a story of a species at war with itself, one that drags even the unknown—UAPs, NHI, the very cosmos—into its narrative machinery. This is not a message of curiosity. It is not a message of peace. It is a message of hostility.

And if Non-Human Intelligence is listening—and all signs suggest they might be—then we have already made our first impression. One not shaped by scientific inquiry or global diplomacy, but by accidental aggression, born of epistemological laziness and narrative dysfunction.

But this story is not finished.

We still have the opportunity—and the responsibility—to choose a different signal. We must recognize that language is a technology—a technology of knowledge production that produces epistemic realities, not merely reflects them. Truth is not a possession but a process. War is not the inevitable endpoint of every conflict, but the failure of imagination.

We can use the mechanisms of fifth generation warfare—memes, media, symbols, stories—not to divide, but to unify. Not to deceive, but to clarify. Not to dominate, but to build peace, across nations and across species.

The question is no longer “Are we alone?”

The question is: What kind of species do we want to be in the presence of others?

Do we want to be the species that couldn’t control its own signal—one that transmitted hostility into the stars because it couldn’t understand itself?

Or do we want to be the species that evolved—intellectually, morally, and epistemologically—into something worthy of peaceful contact?

The choice is ours.

But we must make it now.

Because we are already being heard.

"Instilling responsibility for change with military-grade Epistemology"