Former central bank analyst calls for plans in case of alien contact

Former central bank analyst calls for plans in case of alien contact

A former analyst who worked for a central bank has asked, according to a message circulating on a forum, that its governor activate contingency plans in case extraterrestrial life is ever confirmed. The request is circulating these days alongside recommendations attributed to NASA on what to do in the event of contact, and it has been enough for half the internet to start debating the same thing we have been debating since humans first looked up from the ground: if they come, who is in charge here, and who picks up the tab.

This is not cheap science fiction. The interstellar object 3I/ATLAS has put the topic back on the agenda, along with the uncomfortable question: do we really need a committee of experts for something that, if it happens, will catch us off guard? The official answer, according to the documents circulating, is yes. The unofficial answer of anyone with any sense is something else.

What NASA says to do if there is contact

The protocol attributed to the space agency does not involve shooting first or hiding under the table. It involves what any administration does when it doesn't know what to do: create a committee. An international group of experts to assess the signal, verify it and decide whether it merits a response. Translated into plain terms: two or three new ministries and a round of hearings.

That is where the first big laugh of the whole affair comes from. "From the creators of 'we must save the planet' comes 'we must save the galaxy from interstellar change,'" sums up one of the most repeated comments. The joke has substance: if climate change served to justify taxes, agencies and subsidies, an alien contact would be the ultimate bureaucratic bonanza. There is no crisis that doesn't end up as a new directorate-general.

And then there is the technical detail nobody wants to face. If someone has crossed light years to get here, their technology is not slightly above ours: it is on another scale entirely. "If there really are extraterrestrials capable of traveling among the stars to Earth, their technology would be overwhelmingly superior to ours, so they will do whatever they please," one participant notes. In that scenario, the protocol is about as useful as an umbrella in a hurricane.

The Voyager golden record: we already sent them our calling card

There is one detail that keeps coming up and is worth remembering: we are not about to introduce ourselves to anyone. We have been sending signals into space for decades. The Voyager golden record is traveling with information about the planet, its inhabitants, its languages and its sounds. In other words, we already sent the résumé. If anyone comes with bad intentions, they can't say they weren't warned.

That feeds the most cynical current: those who argue that contact, more than a scientific event, would be a business opportunity. Some joke that vacation rental platforms would rub their hands at millions of visitors needing accommodation. And others point out that, if they arrive, the first thing governments will do is open a grant program.

The recurring joke is the one about benefits: if they come, will they be entitled to welfare? Will they be registered as residents? Will they get citizenship after two years? The joke works because it hits a real nerve: in Spain, any new phenomenon is processed first as public spending and then as a cultural debate. Aliens would be no exception.

The multidisciplinary expert and other native species

If anything has become clear in this discussion, it is the utter contempt for the figure of the expert. "Multidisciplinary expert is an segarro," one person declares. Another recalls that they used to be called wise men and are now called know-it-alls. The distrust of expert committees is no accident: it is the same reflex that appears every time someone in Brussels, Washington or Madrid announces that a group of specialists is going to decide something on our behalf.

The irony sharpens when it is pointed out that experts get things wrong too, and that the real business is not in the contact but in selling the alarm. "The only thing more embarrassing than scientists burying their heads like ostriches is the rat conspiracy farming clicks," sums up one comment aimed directly at the media that amplify every rumor about aliens.

There is a third, more prosaic view that also has its audience: those who believe all this will be resolved the way the last global health crisis was, with a stone, a crystal or a piece of engraved metal, live broadcast, mandatory masks, lockdown and a vaccine. "I've seen this story before. They have too little imagination. You have too much," wraps up one of the most upvoted messages.

The central bank and the scenario nobody had foreseen

The part that turns this into more than a joke is the financial angle. A former central bank analyst has publicly asked its governor to include extraterrestrial contact among the institution's risk scenarios. It is not a bar-room notion: it is the recognition that, if such a thing were confirmed, the markets would react before any government knew what to say.

The problem is that nobody knows in which direction. Panic? Technological euphoria? A mass sell-off of assets? The only certainty is that central banks have spent years preparing for black swans, and this would be the blackest of them all. The letter to the governor does not ask for a concrete plan, only that the possibility be considered. And in central banking language, that is already asking a lot.

Meanwhile, the public conversation swings between the joke and the suspicion. Will the government of the day use it to raise taxes? Is it the 2030 Agenda? Is this another smokescreen? Distrust of the official narrative no longer distinguishes between a pandemic, a flood or a mothership: everything is read through the same filter.

What really matters: nobody knows what to do

In the end, the protocol attributed to NASA says less about aliens than about us. It says that the human species, faced with the unknown, does what it has always done: appoint a committee, draft a procedure and hope nothing happens. It is the same response we gave to the meteorite, to bird flu and to any threat we don't understand.

The only difference is the scale. If they come, no committee will be of any use. And if they don't come, we will keep arguing about them just as we argue about anything that gets in the way. The protocol, meanwhile, is already written. Just in case.