Our governor looks small even through a giant telescope. When the city editor briefed me as a new reporter at the Honolulu Star-Bulletin in 1968, he strangely emphasized a term I could never use in a story: “FUBAR.”

He said it was a vulgar military acronym standing for “f***ed up beyond all recognition.”

It was a word I didn’t know and wouldn’t likely write, and his fixation on it puzzled me; maybe it had sneaked into the paper and the publisher yelled at him.

Whatever, his admonition stuck and I never wrote the term. Until today. Because it so perfectly describes Gov. David Ige’s bungling of the ugly standoff on Mauna Kea between the Thirty Meter Telescope and Hawaiian opponents.

This can be said without taking sides in the dispute, as Ige has managed to lose the respect of nearly everybody on either side and in between.

When protesters first blocked TMT in 2015, Ige vowed to enforce access for construction crews, only to abruptly walk away when it proved more challenging than he thought.

A four-year delay caused by the state Supreme Court’s order to redo the permitting process gave Ige a redo of his own — a chance to think about what had gone wrong and plan for a better outcome the next time.

The governor had basically two options once a new construction permit was approved: find a way to get TMT crews to the summit safely all around for a decade of construction, or advise TMT he didn’t believe this possible without fracturing the community beyond repair and politely point it to a backup site in the Canary Islands.

Ige came down heavy on Option No. 1, announcing construction would start July 15 and vowing to take whatever steps necessary to enforce TMT’s access rights.

He readied the National Guard and declared an emergency, but when law enforcers came face to face with determined opponents, Ige had nothing. He’d learned zilch from the 2015 standoff. There was no new plan.

So Ige did as as he’d done four years earlier — walked away and left Hawaii island Mayor Harry Kim to clean up his mess.

Nearly four weeks later, there’s no resolution and no meaningful negotiations with emboldened opponents who say they won’t compromise.

Not only is TMT stalled, but Ige’s failure to control the state access road effectively shut down existing telescopes, putting expensive instruments at risk and costing valuable research as tax-paying employees can’t get to work.

TMT officials and opponents alike can only guess what to make of Ige’s continuing promises to support the project as he extends the window to start construction by two years until 2021 (when unfortunately he will still be governor).

Perhaps there’s a more current acronym of salty origin to best express public sentiment: Hey, Ige! WTF?

Reach David Shapiro at volcanicash@gmail.com.