The phrase came from a Hollywood blockbuster, but the system behind it was built by J. Allen Hynek, the astronomer the Air Force hired to explain UFOs away. His six rungs still shape how sightings get sorted, and show what the Pentagon's new files leave behind.
Almost everyone knows the phrase from the 1977 Steven Spielberg film. Fewer know it began as a piece of scientific bookkeeping, written by the astronomer the U.S. Air Force paid to make UFO reports go away.
That astronomer was J. Allen Hynek, and in his 1972 book “The UFO Experience” he laid out a system for sorting sightings by a single variable: how close the witness got. According to HISTORY, the phrase “close encounter of the third kind” is the top rung of that ladder, the point where a witness reports not just an object but a figure near it. The film borrowed the term, and Hynek, fittingly, appears in it for a moment as a bearded scientist in the crowd.
Here is the short version. Hynek’s scale is a way to file what people say they saw, ordered from a distant light to an object close enough to leave marks. It is still the vocabulary most people reach for. But it measures proximity, not proof, and that gap is exactly what the Pentagon’s modern UFO investigators have quietly moved away from.
The skeptic the Air Force hired
Hynek did not start as a believer. Beginning in 1948 he served as the scientific consultant to the Air Force’s UFO projects - Sign, Grudge, and finally the long-running Project Blue Book, the government’s official UFO investigation from 1952 to 1969. His job, as Biography.com describes it, was largely to supply the ordinary explanation: the misidentified planet, the weather balloon, the temperature inversion.
For years he did exactly that, and grew known for it. But according to HISTORY, a residue of cases refused to resolve, and Hynek came to argue that a small fraction of reports were detailed and credible enough to deserve genuine scientific study rather than reflexive dismissal. In 1973 he founded the Center for UFO Studies to do that work. His classification was the tool he built to keep the analysis honest, to separate a vague glow on the horizon from a case with real texture.
Hynek split sightings into two groups. The first covers distant observations, and it has three tiers, per the Wikipedia summary of his work: Nocturnal Lights, or lights seen at night; Daylight Discs, objects seen in daytime; and Radar-Visual cases, where an instrument backs up the human eye. That last tier was meant to be the strongest, though radar can be bent by the atmosphere into objects that were never there.
The second group is the famous one: the close encounters, which Hynek defined as sightings within roughly 500 feet.
- A Close Encounter of the First Kind is a UFO seen near enough to make out real detail, with no other effect.
- A Close Encounter of the Second Kind adds a physical trace - a scorched patch of ground, a stalled car engine, or an injury. The 1967 Falcon Lake case in Canada, where a man said a hovering craft seared a grid of burns onto his chest, is a textbook example.
- A Close Encounter of the Third Kind is the one the movie made famous: a report that includes a living occupant, on or near the craft.
A fourth kind, covering alleged abductions, was added later by other researchers, not by Hynek himself.
Why the Pentagon doesn’t sort its files this way
The scale endures because it is intuitive. Its weakness is just as simple: it ranks how close a witness felt they got, not how good the evidence is. A dramatic third-kind account can rest on a single memory, while a distant “nocturnal light” might be captured on calibrated radar, infrared, and cockpit video at once. Proximity and reliability are not the same thing.
That is why modern investigation has shifted its emphasis. NASA’s work on unidentified anomalous phenomena, the term governments now use in place of UFO, stresses high-quality calibrated sensor data over eyewitness vividness. The Pentagon’s All-Domain Anomaly Resolution Office, in turn, catalogues its cases by what instruments recorded and whether the case could be resolved, not by how near an observer stood. The files it keeps releasing are sorted by sensor and outcome, resolved or unexplained, rather than by Hynek’s rungs.
Hynek’s ladder has not been disproven so much as outgrown. It remains a genuinely useful map of what people report, and the reason a stray phrase from a 1977 movie still carries a precise meaning. It is simply no longer how the serious work of telling a real anomaly from an ordinary one gets done, a distinction Hynek, the reluctant skeptic, spent his career insisting on.