Operation STARGATE: The CIA’s Search for Minds That Could See Beyond

During the late Cold War, the U.S. quietly funded research into “remote viewing”—the attempt to perceive distant targets without physical contact. The work evolved under a series of program names—GRILL FLAME, CENTER LANE, SUN STREAK—before consolidating as Operation STARGATE, based largely at Fort Meade, Maryland. The CIA and DIA oversaw efforts that ran from the late 1970s until 1995, when parts of the archive were declassified and the program was officially shuttered.

Transcripts show viewers receiving geographic coordinates or target numbers, sketching structures and terrain they could not physically see. A handful of sessions produced sketches and descriptions later judged “operationally interesting.” Others fell flat. That tension—between the compelling and the inconclusive—kept funding alive for years and then closed the door just as quickly.

Behind the public summaries are hints of everyday protocols: controlled lighting, quiet rooms, timed sessions, and—in several training outlines—permission for “stimulant beverages in controlled quantities” to sustain attention during extended focus. It’s not glamorous, but it is human. Long work, long silence, and, according to multiple recollections, a lot of coffee.

The logic tracks. Caffeine can heighten alertness and stabilize drift, which matters when a protocol depends on holding a mental image without breaking concentration. Some technicians informally noted steadier alpha/beta patterns when routines stayed consistent: same seat, same time, same cup.

In 1995, an external review concluded the program did not deliver reliable, actionable intelligence on demand. Officially, STARGATE ended there. Unofficially, the story lingers in interviews and footnotes. People still debate the transcripts, the hits, the misses—and the possibility that awareness sometimes stretches farther than our eyes.

As for the coffee: it wasn’t magic. It was a tool. The right ritual can keep the body grounded while the mind does its work. That was true in a windowless room at Fort Meade. It’s true at a roaster’s bench, too.