Imagine an IT guy who wanted to find traces of UFOs and instead found himself at the centre of the most high-profile hacking case of the 2000s. In 2002, Gary McKinnon, an ordinary sysadmin from Scotland, broke into NASA and the Pentagon computers under the nickname Solo. The United States immediately called it "the largest military hack of all time" and squeezed the most out of this formula - media, diplomatically, legally.
Ten years of trials, extradition requests, an autism diagnosis, an activist mother, hysteria around human rights, conspiracies, spaceships - all this is not a Netflix scriptwriter's invention, but a real story of a British man who just wanted to know if the US government was really hiding information about aliens.
Fast forward.
- The guy who was looking for UFOs
- Intrusion: an attack on US Army and NASA computers
- Accusation and arrest
- Decades of legal uncertainty: the battle for extradition
- The human factor: Asperger's syndrome, mental health and a mother's struggle
- The intervention of the UK Home Secretary
- McKinnon's legacy: the impact on law, policy and awareness
- In a nutshell.
The boy who was looking for UFOs
Gary MacKinnon was born in Glasgow in 1966, but his real "start" came at the age of 14, with an Atari 400 in his hands. It was then that his love of computers began, which later grew into a career as a system administrator. But the story of the hacking that brought him worldwide fame (and problems with the US Department of Justice) had nothing to do with his career ambitions.

The Atari 400, 14-year-old Gary McKinnon's first computer. Illustration: Wikipedia
McKinnon was looking for... the truth. In his mind, this was the truth about UFOs, "hidden" anti-gravity technologies and free energy, which he believed governments were deliberately hiding. These ideas did not come from TikTok, but from a "serious" source -The Disclosure ProjectbySteven Greer. In May 2001, this movement held a large press conference in Washington, D.C., where military officers, engineers, and former intelligence officers spoke publicly.

Cover of the pseudo-scientific series "Disclosure" with a photo of the author - Steven Greer. Illustration: Amazon Prime
For McKinnon, this was a "revelation" - confirmation that governments were hiding something, and no one was going to expose it except him.
He was looking for concrete evidence. The hacker's attention was drawn to rumours that NASA, in particular the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center (NASA's headquarters in Houston), was retouching images from orbit to remove objects of unclear origin. McKinnon claimed to have seen one of these images: something silvery, cigar-shaped, hovering over the northern hemisphere of the Earth. He also believed in the Majestic 12, a legendary committee of scientists and officials who allegedly dealt with alien technology. And, of course, he was a member of the British UFO Research Association(BUFORA ).
Go Deeper:
The Majestic 12 (MJ-12) is an allegedly secret government group created in the United States in the late 1940s to investigate contacts with extraterrestrial civilisations and study UFO wreckage, including the Roswell incident. MJ-12 first came to light in the 1980s through leaked documents whose authenticity remains in doubt. Many experts believe they are forgeries, but conspiracy theories and the culture surrounding UFOs actively feed this legend. For people like Gary McKinnon, Majestic 12 is a symbol of the conspiracy of silence that governments have followed in hiding the truth about aliens from humanity.
It was a search for truth, driven not by a thirst for hacking as such, but by a belief in injustice. His diagnosis of Asperger's syndrome later became part of his court argument: people with this condition often have an extraordinary concentration on narrow topics. In McKinnon's case, it was an obsession with discovering the truth about space and hidden technologies.
And another important nuance is time. 2001-2002 was the era before Facebook, before WikiLeaks, before massive leaks and Telegram channels. There were no Reddit threads or open-source analytics to find out anything. If you believe in a conspiracy, the most direct way to get to the truth, Gary thought, is to log into the computers of those who are supposedly hiding it.
His logic was simple: if NASA is "cleaning up" something, then NASA is the place to look.
In today's world, McKinnon would most likely hang out on forums, get stuck into QAnon-like threads of "insights" or leak analysis. But in the early 2000s, he chose the direct route - and it turned out to be the most dangerous route to the truth.
Go Deeper:
QAnon is a conspiracy theory that emerged in 2017 on the 4chan forum. Its supporters believe that the United States is run by a secret elite - pedophiles, satanists and corrupt politicians - and Donald Trump is allegedly waging a secret war against them. The source of the "insights" is a mysterious user under the pseudonym Q, who posts messages with hints and codes that attract the attention of thousands.
Although there is no actual evidence for the theory, it has become widespread, especially among Trump supporters and anti-systemic movements. QAnon has influenced real-life events, such as the storming of the Capitol on 6 January 2021, and has become a tool for political radicalisation. The movement encompasses online communities, social media, and YouTube channels, creating an alternative reality with its own heroes, "investigations," and enemies. QAnon combines cult logic, belief in a global conspiracy, and total distrust of official sources.
So, we are dealing with a man who combined technical knowledge, a sincere belief in conspiracy and an ethical conviction that humanity should know the truth. He did not steal money, encrypt servers, or ask for ransom. His hack is a cry: "Tell people the truth!" But in the immediate aftermath of the 11 September 2001 terrorist attacks, this sounded like a challenge to the national security system. The result is 10 years of litigation, a media war, an extradition request and the title of the main cyber enemy of the United States. Hacking in search of UFOs.
Intrusion: an attack on US Army and NASA computers
Working under the nickname "Solo" from his girlfriend's aunt's house in London, Gary McKinnon, according to US investigators, carried out a series of hacks into computer systems belonging to the US military and NASA over a period of 13 months (from February 2001 to March 2002). In total, he allegedly broke into 97 computers.
The targets were not just any random servers, but systems of the US Army, Navy, Air Force, Department of Defence and NASA itself. One of the most serious incidents, according to the indictment, was the hacking of the Earle Naval Weapons Station in New Jersey. After 9/11, McKinnon, according to the investigation, deleted important weapons logs, which disrupted a network of 300 computers for a week and effectively stopped the supply of ammunition to the US Navy's Atlantic Fleet.

Gary McKinnon. Illustration: AP
Another episode is the Washington DC military district network outage that affected 2,000 computers when critical system files were deleted. The case also mentions hacks of computers at the Pentagon, NASA in Hampton, Virginia, Navy systems in Groton, Connecticut, and six private companies.
Investigators claimed that McKinnon's method of operation was fairly typical of novice hackers: he scanned networks looking for computers with open or weakly protected administrative ports, a common vulnerability.
To gain access, he used the remote administration software RemotelyAnywhere, first by signing up for a trial version through his girlfriend's email, and later with a cracked, illegal version.
Once he gained access, he installed this and other "tools" to control the systems, elevated his privileges to administrator level, copied sensitive files - passwords, accounts - and deleted system logs that could record his presence. In some cases, he allegedly deleted up to 1,300 user accounts and critical system files, without which computers simply stopped working. He allegedly used the already hacked machines as springboards to break into other military and space networks.
The damage was an important part of the prosecution's case. The hacking of the network of the Earl Naval Weapons Station alone was estimated at nearly $290,500.
The investigation and restoration of the systems is estimated to have cost the US between $700,000 and $900,000.
The technical accusations were closely intertwined with the "ideological" ones: McKinnon left messages on some of the computers. The most famous of them is a short one:
"Your security is crap". But there were also harsher ones: "US foreign policy is akin to Government-sponsored terrorism these days... It was not a mistake that there was a huge security stand down on September 11 last year... I am SOLO. I will continue to disrupt at the highest levels"...

Gary McKinnon left this message on hacked PCs. Illustration: DALL-E
In the United States, these messages were called "stupid and anti-American", but they probably finally shaped McKinnon's image as a malicious actor rather than an enthusiastic hacker, and intensified the official response.
The fact that Gary McKinnon's hacks took place after 11 September 2001 had a significant impact on the American perception of the situation. At a time of heightened anxiety, any intrusion into the MoD's networks was interpreted as a potential terrorist threat. The hacking of the systems of the Earl Naval Weapons Station, which paralysed the supply of ammunition, was perceived as a blow to military infrastructure at a critical time.

The Earl Naval Weapons Station. Illustration: navy.mil
Against this background, messages such as "I am SOLO. I will continue" only reinforced the idea of malicious intent. One of the investigators said bluntly: "We thought it might be al-Qaeda". And it was in this context that the "biggest military hack" formula emerged.
McKinnon probably saw himself as a researcher, not a criminal.
But regardless of his motivation, the fact of the intrusion had real consequences: network outages, data loss, and threats to operations. And this was enough to launch a full-fledged legal and diplomatic machine.
Charges and arrest
The digital trail left behind by Solo eventually led investigators to Gary McKinnon. The key evidence was the server records of Binary Research, a distributor of the RemotelyAnywhere software that McKinnon allegedly used for hacking. The logs revealed the IP address and email address of his girlfriend, used to sign up for a trial version of the software before he upgraded to the hacked version. One commentator called this a "classic mistake" - a typical example of how technical skill in hacking does not guarantee perfect anonymity. It is the human factor that often becomes the thread that can be easily pulled.
After that, the British police began to act on the US request. The first official survey took place on 19 March 2002. According to some sources, he was arrested on the same day, while others say that the National Cybercrime Unit (NHTCU) conducted a second interview on 8 August. Whatever the case, British law enforcement officers promptly joined the case at the request of the Americans - an example of international cooperation in the fight against cybercrime.
McKinnon was released on bail, but with restrictions: a ban on using the Internet and daily check-ins at the police station.
Things escalated in November 2002, when a federal jury in the Eastern District of Virginia formally indicted him on seven counts, each of which carried a maximum sentence of 10 years in prison. A separate one-count indictment came from New Jersey for damaging a secure system at the Earle Naval Weapons Station. The maximum sentence for this count is 5 years and a fine of $250,000.
McKinnon was facing up to 70 years in prison, which is how long he could have been sentenced if he had been found guilty on all charges in Virginia, not including the separate sentence for the New Jersey case. Against this backdrop, his fear of being declared an "enemy combatant" and sent to Guantanamo Bay was dramatic, but understandable in the post-9/11 environment. Although such a scenario was unlikely, the mood of the era drew even cyber cases into an atmosphere of extreme legal pressure.
After the indictment, the United States officially announced its intention to seek McKinnon's extradition from the UK to stand trial on its territory. And the severity of the possible punishment was not only about him personally - it was a clear signal to anyone thinking of "hacking" someone else's infrastructure from across the pond.
The crime was committed in London, but the consequences were in US computers.
This brought to the fore a long-standing question: whose jurisdiction is it? The US did not transfer the case to a British court, but filed charges and went for extradition itself. This was Washington's clear message: if you hack into our servers, no matter where you are physically located, we will get you.
The McKinnon case became a media example of how states are trying to extend their laws into cyberspace. A space where there are no borders, but political ambitions are more than real.
A decade of legal uncertainty: the battle for extradition
The indictment against Gary McKinnon in November 2002 was only the beginning - he faced a gruelling ten-year legal battle against extradition to the United States. For the first three years, he was released without restrictions, but in 2005, after the new 2003 Extradition Act came into force, he was officially placed on recognised recognisance and the process of transferring him to the United States began. The longer this case went on, the more it affected his mental health - and at the same time attracted more and more public support for him.
The law on extradition itself was controversial. It was part of a new bilateral agreement between the United States and the United Kingdom, under which the United States was not required to provide conclusive evidence of guilt in a British court - only to indicate the grounds for the accusation. In other words, America could demand the extradition of a Briton without a detailed judicial analysis, while Britain would have to provide much more evidence to do the same in the United States.
Critics immediately called the treaty "unilateral" and depriving the British of basic legal protections. Although an official investigation (the Baker Review) later concluded that the difference between the US "probable cause" standard and the British "reasonable suspicion" standard was not significant, public opinion remained opposed.
The sense of injustice became one of the main trump cards in McKinnon's defence campaign.
The parties to the case took tough, opposing positions. The US prosecutor's office constantly emphasised the scale of the hack, repeating the phrase "the largest military hack in history" and highlighting the serious consequences - from the shutdown of the Washington Military District network to the blocking of ammunition supplies at a naval base in New Jersey. All of this was done in the context of post-9/11 national security.
The United States also insisted that since the hacks targeted American servers, the damage was done to American infrastructure, and all the key witnesses were in the United States, McKinnon should be tried there. Moreover, the anti-system messages left on the computers, according to the prosecution, were an attempt to "influence the US government through intimidation" - which automatically turned the case from a technical to a political one. And that is exactly how the US side viewed it: as an act of cyber aggression that should be responded to with maximum determination.
Gary McKinnon's defence initially focused on criticising the extradition procedure itself. The lawyers emphasised the key difference between the American system of plea bargaining and British case law. In the US, if McKinnon pleaded guilty, he could be sentenced to 37-46 months. But if he refused, he risked 8-10 years for each of the seven counts. According to the defence, this "choice without choice" is an abuse of process. "If the US wants to use the English courts, let them follow our rules," the lawyers said.
Go Deeper:

In August 2009, Pink Floyd's David Gilmour released an online single, "Chicago - Change the World", dedicated to the case of Gary McKinnon. It was a re-imagined version of Graham Nash's "Chicago", but with a new meaning - to draw attention to the risk of McKinnon's extradition to the United States. The recording also featured Chrissie Hynde, Bob Geldof and McKinnon himself, and was produced by Pink Floyd's long-time collaborator Chris Thomas. The project received the support of Graham Nash himself and became a musical gesture of solidarity in a cause that combined cybercrime, human rights and international politics.
However, the House of Lords, then the highest court in the UK, rejected the argument. It ruled that extradition between allied states can take into account cultural and legal differences.
The defence also insisted that the crimes were committed in the UK, and therefore the trial should take place there.
But these arguments did not work.
As McKinnon's mental state deteriorated, the defence changed its focus: now it was about human rights violations. But these arguments were rejected one by one. The appeal to the House of Lords was lost in 2008. The temporary ban on extradition imposed by the European Court of Human Rights was later lifted. A judicial review in the High Court in 2009 was also unsuccessful.
These defeats only confirmed how strong the American extradition request was formally justified.
Outside the courtroom, meanwhile, a loud political and public campaign unfolded. In August 2009, the then Prime Minister Gordon Brown tried to negotiate with the US to allow McKinnon to serve his possible sentence in the UK. But the US refused. The main driver of this campaign was McKinnon's mother, Janis Sharp. Her struggle, described in the book Saving Gary McKinnon: A Mother's Story, turned the case into a national event. She gained the support of key political figures, including David Cameron and Nick Clegg, who had publicly opposed extradition before the coalition government was formed.

Cover of the book "Saving Gary McKinnon". Illustration: Amazon
The British public and media almost unanimously perceived the attempted extradition as disproportionate. A profound dilemma arose: on the one hand, a legally valid extradition under all the rules of the 2003 treaty, and on the other hand, a human story about a vulnerable man with Asperger's syndrome who could be sentenced to decades in a foreign country.
The human factor: Asperger's, mental health and a mother's struggle
A key turning point in Gary McKinnon's case occurred in August 2008, when he was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, a form of autism. This opened a new page in the ten-year fight against extradition. Instead of legal nuances, human rights - and the question of whether McKinnon's psyche would survive an American prison - became the focus of the discussion.
Asperger's syndrome is accompanied by difficulties in social interaction, increased sensitivity to stress, and a tendency to focus on certain topics. In McKinnon's case, these topics were UFOs, "hidden" technologies and conspiracies - and this obsession, according to his defenders, explained his risky actions.
Go Deeper:
Asperger's syndrome is one of the autism spectrum disorders that usually manifests itself in difficulties in social interaction, communication and understanding non-verbal cues. People with this syndrome often have normal to high intelligence, as well as a deep interest in narrow topics, to which they may show almost obsessive attention. At the same time, they may have difficulty adapting to change, show excessive straightforwardness and sensitivity to sensory stimuli. The diagnosis is not associated with speech impairment, but intonation or facial expressions may be atypical.
The late diagnosis - six years after the charges were brought - changed not only the interpretation of his actions, but also the assessment of the potential threat to his life in the event of extradition. His lawyers argued that McKinnon's extradition to the United States would mean deep mental destruction, with a real threat of suicide. This was not a hypothetical risk - the medical reports were concrete and alarming.

McKinnon suffered from Asperger's syndrome, which is characterised by an interest in narrow topics and difficulties in social interaction. Illustration: DALL-E
One of the key voices in the defence was psychiatrist Jeremy Turk, who stated bluntly that if McKinnon was extradited, he was almost guaranteed to attempt suicide. Other reports, including those involving experts engaged by the Home Office, confirmed the high risk of suicide.
The family described Gary as a man who withdrew from the world, hardly communicated and spent his days in a dark room.
This body of medical evidence formed the basis of the argument that McKinnon's extradition was contrary to his right to life and freedom from inhuman or degrading treatment. The case was no longer perceived as a purely legal one - it was a human tragedy that attracted the attention of the media, politicians and the public.
His mother, Janice Sharp, remained the most steadfast fighter for her son. Her campaign turned the legal case into a symbolic struggle of a "little man" against a large state machine. She met with MPs, spoke to the press, wrote a book, Saving Gary McKinnon, and kept the case on the radar. She called these ten years "mental waterboarding" for Gary - and "cruel, unnecessary punishment" by the American authorities.

McKinnon's case has since become a mirror for the UK judicial system. Illustration: DALL-E
This case was a reminder: The legal procedure must see people. And if the law does not keep pace with reality, it means that the system must change. And although such changes are slow, Gary McKinnon's story has become a catalyst for important discussions about justice, humanity and the role of mental health in the judicial process.
Intervention by the UK Home Secretary
When all the courts had been exhausted and Gary McKinnon's extradition to the United States seemed to be a matter of time, the case took a dramatic turn. Theresa May, the then Home Secretary of the United Kingdom - she was later Prime Minister of the United Kingdom from 2016 to 2019 - stepped in and initiated an independent review of the case, which went beyond the legal extradition procedures. At the centre of the review was the question of whether extradition would violate the human rights guaranteed by the Human Rights Act 1998.
On 16 October 2012, May spoke in the House of Commons and officially announced that Gary McKinnon's extradition was blocked. The reason was his mental state and the serious risk of suicide if transferred to an American prison. "There is no doubt about his illness. He has Asperger's syndrome and severe depression. Extradition would pose such a high risk to his life that it would be incompatible with his rights," she said.
This was an unprecedented decision, made after a thorough analysis of medical reports and consultations with leading experts.
And it demonstrated that the Minister of Internal Affairs has the right to put the brakes on even when the courts have given the green light, if there is a threat to human life. In this case, humanity outweighed legal technique.
Interestingly, Theresa May herself subsequently supported the Baker Review's recommendation to limit the Home Secretary's powers in human rights matters during extradition. She acknowledged that it would be more logical to refer such decisions to the High Court. However, it was her intervention in the McKinnon case that proved the need for a mechanism of protection outside the formal judicial process.
The US reaction was predictable: disappointment. The Ministry of Justice expressed its disagreement, especially given the previous court decisions and the support for extradition from other British ministers. But the US side also agreed that the case was "exceptional" - a formulation that helped to maintain a diplomatic balance. That is, on the one hand, the United States did not receive the suspect, but on the other hand, the United Kingdom clearly showed that this was not an undermining of the extradition agreement, but a single, humanitarian decision.
After the case was stopped at the level of extradition, a new question arose: should McKinnon be tried in the UK itself? It was decided by the then Attorney General, Keir Starmer, yes, the one who now heads the Labour Party. On 14 December 2012, he announced: "Gary McKinnon will not stand trial in a British court.
The main reason was that there was no realistic possibility of bringing a case. All the key evidence was in the United States, and the likelihood of a successful prosecution in a British court was deemed low.
Thus, after 10 years of legal, media and political struggle, the McKinnon case ended - without a trial, without a verdict, but with a trace that will remain in the history of British law, diplomacy and human rights discussions for a long time.
MacKinnon's legacy: impact on law, policy and awareness
After the case ended, MacKinnon disappeared from the headlines. It is known that around 2020, he was engaged in SEO services, using his technical skills in a professional capacity. In 2022, he joined the NFT Collection project on the OpenSea platform, creating a series of animated works about his story in partnership with Vertical Vertical. This project, hosted on the Polygon blockchain, contains seven unique animated works of art depicting key scenes from his story. It was an attempt to tell its version of events in a modern digital language.

"Hacking the Pentagon in search of UFOs". Illustration: verticalvertical.com
Gary himself has repeatedly admitted to the hacking, stressing that the motive was not malicious, but related to the search for information about UFOs. The psychological burden of the case, the years of depression and isolation left their mark. And although the real return to normal life remains a personal process, his new projects seem to be the first step in this direction.
Gary McKinnon's case has gone far beyond a personal story - it has influenced laws, raised public awareness and changed the way we look at extradition and the rights of people with autism.
The most tangible consequence was the introduction in 2013 of the "forum bar", which allows British courts to refuse extradition if a significant part of the offence took place in Britain. It was this mechanism that was key in the case of Laurie Love, who was also accused of hacking and, like McKinnon, had Asperger's syndrome.
In addition to legal changes, McKinnon's case became a focal point for public attention to the autism spectrum in the justice system. It showed how behavioural patterns can be misinterpreted - and that the system does not always take into account the vulnerability of such people. Organisations such as the National Autistic Society have developed materials for lawyers and police officers, but research has shown that practical changes are slow to come about. Even a high-profile case does not guarantee a systemic breakthrough, but it does set a precedent and opens up space for change.
The bottom line
It is difficult to call Gary McKinnon's case just a hacker case - it has become a symbol of the collision between digital technology, legal boundaries and human vulnerability. Starting with a search for the truth about UFOs, he found himself at the centre of an international conflict and a decade-long fight against extradition. His diagnosis of Asperger's syndrome transformed the case from a legal to a humanitarian one, and it was this that allowed Britain to stop the extradition on human rights grounds.
The case triggered reforms in extradition law (including the introduction of the forum bar), highlighted the problems of justice for people with autism, and became an example of how digital crimes require a more nuanced, human approach. Gary McKinnon's story is a warning to those who have technical skills, strong convictions and underestimate the line between curiosity and crime.
For those who want to know more