HIV/AIDS Skepticism

Pointing to evidence that HIV is not the necessary and sufficient cause of AIDS

Posts Tagged ‘Robert Root-Bernstein’

Believing and disbelieving

Posted by Henry Bauer on 2009/07/03

(This is a long post. HERE is a pdf for those who prefer to read it that way).

“How could anyone believe that?” is a natural question whenever someone believes what is contrary to the conventional wisdom, say, that HIV doesn’t cause AIDS, or that Loch Ness monsters are real animals.

Since the role of unorthodox views in and out of science has been the focus of my academic interests for several decades, I had to think about that question in a variety of contexts. My conclusion long ago was that this is the wrong question, the very opposite of the right question, which is,

“How does anyone ever come to believe differently than others do?” (1)

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It’s a widespread illusion that we believe things because they’re true. It’s an illusion that we all tend to harbor about ourselves. Of course I believe what’s true! My beliefs aren’t wrong! It’s the others who are wrong.

However, we don’t acquire beliefs because they’re true, we acquire them through being taught that they’re true. For the first half-a-dozen or a dozen years of our lives, before we have begun to learn how to think truly for ourselves, as babies and children we almost always believe what parents and teachers tell us. Surely that has helped the species to survive. But no matter what the reason might be, there’s ample empirical evidence for it. For instance, many people during their whole lifetime stick to the religion that they imbibed almost with mother’s milk; those who reject that religion do so at earliest in adolescence.

That habit of believing parents and teachers tends to become ingrained. Society’s “experts”  — scientists and doctors, surrogate parents and teachers — tend to be believed as a matter of habit.

So how do some people ever come to believe other than what they’ve been taught and what the experts say?

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I was prompted to this train of thought by receiving yet again some comments intended for this blog and which were directed at minor details, from people whom I had asked, long ago, to cut through this underbrush and address the chief point at issue: “What is the proof that HIV causes AIDS?”

Whenever I’ve asked this of commentators like Fulano-etc.-de-Tal, or Chris Noble, or Snout, or others who want to argue incessantly about ancillary details, the exchange has come to an end. They’ve simply never addressed that central issue.

And it’s not only these camp followers. The same holds for the actual HIV/AIDS gurus, the Montagniers and Gallos and Faucis. Fauci threatens journalists who don’t toe the orthodox line. Gallo hangs up on Gary Null when asked for citations to the work that made him famous.

Why can’t these people cite the work on which their belief is supposedly based?

Finally it hit me: Because their belief wasn’t formed that way. They didn’t come to believe because of the evidence.
The Faucis and Gallos came to believe because they wanted to, because a virus-caused AIDS would be in their professional bailiwick, and they were more than happy to take an imperfect correlation as proof of causation.
The camp followers came to believe simply because they were happy to believe what the experts say and what “everyone else” believes. Who are they to question the authority of scientific experts and scientific institutions?

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To question “what everyone knows”, there has to be some decisive incentive or some serendipitous conjunction. I’ll illustrate that by describing how I came to believe some things that “everyone else” believes and some things that “everyone else” does not believe.

The first unorthodox opinion I acquired was that Loch Ness monsters are probably real living animals of some unidentified species. How did I come to that conclusion?
Serendipity set the stage. Reading has been my lifelong pleasure. I used to browse in the local library among books that had just been returned and not yet reshelved, assuming that these would be the most interesting ones. Around 1961, I picked from that pile a book titled Loch Ness Monster, by Tim Dinsdale. I recall my mental sneer, for I knew like everyone else that this was a mythical creature and a tangible tourist attraction invented by those canny Scots. But I thumbed the pages, and saw a set of glossy photos: claimed stills from a film! If these were genuine . . . . So I borrowed the book. Having read it, I couldn’t make up my mind. The author seemed genuine, but also very naïve. Yet his film had been developed by Kodak and pronounced genuine. Could it be that Nessies are real?
I was unable to find a satisfactory discussion in the scientific literature. So I read whatever other books and articles I could find about it. I also became a member of the Loch Ness Investigation, a group that was exploring at Loch Ness during the summers, and I followed their work via their newsletters — I couldn’t participate personally since I then lived in Australia.
A dozen years later, on sabbatical leave in England, I took a vacation trip to Loch Ness. More serendipity: there I encountered Dinsdale. Later I arranged lecture tours for him in the USA (where I had migrated in 1965). Coming to know Dinsdale, coming to trust his integrity, seeing a 35mm copy of his film umpteen times during his talks, brought conviction.
It had taken me 12-15 years of looking at all the available evidence before I felt convinced.

The unorthodox view that underwrites this blog is that HIV doesn’t cause AIDS. How did I come by that belief in something that “everyone else” does not believe?
More serendipity. Having concluded in the early 1970s that Nessies were probably real, I became curious why there hadn’t been proper scientific investigations despite the huge amount of publicity over several decades. That led eventually to my change of academic field from chemistry to science studies, with special interest in heterodoxies. So I was always on the lookout for scientific anomalies and heresies to study. In the mid-1990s, I came across the book by Ellison and Duesberg, Why We Will Never Win the War on AIDS (interesting info about this here ; other Ellison-Duesberg articles here).
Just as with Dinsdale’s book, I couldn’t make up my mind. The arguments seemed sound, but I didn’t feel competent to judge the technicalities. So, again, I looked for other HIV/AIDS-dissenting books, and wrote reviews of a number of them. Around 2005, that led me to read Harvey Bialy’s scientific autobiography of Duesberg. For months thereafter, I periodically reminded myself that I wanted to check a citation Bialy had given, for an assertion that obviously couldn’t be true, namely, that positive HIV-tests in the mid-1980s among teenage potential military recruits from all across the United States had come equally among the girls as among the boys. The consequences of checking that reference are described in The Origin, Persistence and Failings of HIV/AIDS Theory.
As with Nessie, it had taken me more than ten years of looking into the available evidence to become convinced of the correctness of something that “everyone else” does not believe.

So am I saying that I always sift evidence for a decade before making up my mind?
Of course not. I did that only on matters that were outside my professional expertise.

Studying chemistry, I didn’t question what the instructors and the textbooks had to say. I surely asked for explanations on some points, and might well have raised quibbles on details, but I didn’t question the periodic table or the theory of chemical bonding or the laws of thermodynamics or any other basic tenet.

That, I suggest, is quite typical. Those of us who go into research in a science don’t begin by questioning our field’s basic tenets. Furthermore, most of us never have occasion to question those tenets later on. Most scientific research is, in Kuhn’s words (2), puzzle-solving. In every field there are all sorts of little problems to be solved; not little in the sense of easy, but in the sense of not impinging on any basic theoretical issues. One can spend many lifetimes in chemical research without ever questioning the Second Law of thermodynamics, say, or quantum-mechanical calculations of electron energies, and so on and so forth.

So: Immunologists and virologists and pharmacologists and others who came to do research on HIV/AIDS from the mid-1980s onwards have been engaged in trying to solve all sorts of puzzles. They’ve had no reason to question the accepted view that HIV causes AIDS, because their work doesn’t raise that question in any obvious way; they’re working on very specialized, very detailed matters — designing new antiretroviral drugs, say; or trying to make sense of the infinite variety of “HIV” strains and permutations and recombinations; or looking for new strategies that might lead to a useful vaccine; and so on and so forth. Many tens of thousands of published articles illustrate that there are no end of mysterious puzzles about “HIV/AIDS” waiting to be solved.

The various people who became activist camp followers, like the non-scientist vigilantes among the AIDStruth gang, didn’t begin by trying to convince themselves, by looking into the primary evidence, that the mainstream view is correct: they simply believed it, jumped on the very visible bandwagon, took for granted that the conventional view promulgated by official scientific institutions is true.

It is perfectly natural, in other words, for scientists and non-scientists to believe without question that HIV causes AIDS even though they have never seen or looked for the proof.

What is not natural is to question that, and the relatively small number of individuals who became HIV/AIDS dissidents, AIDS Rethinkers, HIV Skeptics, did so because of idiosyncratic and specific reasons. Women like Christine Maggiore, Noreen Martin, Maria Papagiannidou, Karri Stokely, and others had the strongest personal reasons to wonder about what they were being told: since they had not put themselves at risk in the way “HIV” is supposedly acquired, and since they were finding the “side” effects of antiretroviral drugs intolerable, the incentive was strong to think for themselves and look at the evidence for themselves.
Many gay men have had similar reason to question the mainstream view, and some unknown but undoubtedly large number of gay men are living in a perpetual mental and emotional turmoil: on one hand much empirical evidence of what the antiretroviral drugs have done to their friends, on the other hand their own doctors expressing with apparent confidence the mainstream view. So only a visible minority of gay men have yet recognized the failings of HIV/AIDS theory.
One of the first to do so, John Lauritsen, was brought to question the mainstream view for the idiosyncratic personal reason that, as a survey research analyst, he could see that the CDC’s classification scheme was invalid.
Among scientists, Peter Duesberg recognized some of the errors of HIV/AIDS theory because he understood so much about retroviruses and because he had not himself been caught up in the feverish chase for an infectious cause of AIDS. Robert Root-Bernstein, too, with expertise in immunology , could recognize clearly from outside the HIV/AIDS-research establishment the fallacy of taking immunedeficiency as some new phenomenon. Other biologists, too, who were not involved in HIV/AIDS work, could see things wrong with HIV/AIDS theory: Charles A. Thomas, Jr., Harvey Bialy, Walter Gilbert, Kary Mullis, Harry Rubin, Gordon Stewart, Richard Strohman, and many others who have put their names to the letter asking for a reconsideration.

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To summarize:

Mainstream researchers rarely if ever question the basis for the contemporary beliefs in their field. It’s not unique to HIV/AIDS. HIV/AIDS researchers and camp followers never cite the publications that are supposed to prove that HIV causes AIDS for the reason that they never looked for such proof, they simply took it for granted on the say-so of the press-conference announcement and subsequent “mainstream consensus”.

The people who did look for such proof, and realized that it doesn’t exist, were:
—  journalists covering “HIV/AIDS” stories (among those who wrote books about it are Jad Adams, Elinor Burkett, John Crewdson, Celia Farber, Neville Hodgkinson, Evan Lambrou, Michael Leitner, Joan Shenton);
—  directly affected, said-to-be-HIV-positive people, largely gay men and also women like those mentioned above;
—  individuals for a variety of individual reasons, as illustrated above for John Lauritsen and myself;
—  scientists in closely related fields who were not working directly on HIV/AIDS.

That last point is pertinent to the refrain from defenders of HIV/AIDS orthodoxy that highly qualified scientists like Duesberg or Mullis are not equipped to comment because they have never themselves done any research on HIV or AIDS. But that’s precisely why they were able to see that this HIV/AIDS Emperor has no clothes — scientists working directly on the many puzzles generated by this wrong theory have no incentive, no inclination, no reason to question the hypothesis; indeed, the psychological mechanism of cognitive dissonance makes it highly unlikely that scientists with careers vested in HIV/AIDS orthodoxy will be able to recognize the evidence against their belief.
More generally, this is the reason why the history of science contains so many cases of breakthroughs being made by outsiders to a particular specialty: coming to it afresh, they are not blinded by the insider dogmas.

So there is nothing unique about the fact that the failings of HIV/AIDS theory have been discerned by outsiders and not by insiders, and that the insiders are not even familiar with the supposed proofs underlying their belief. Nor is it unique that the dogma has many camp followers who never bothered to look for the supposed proofs of the mainstream belief. What is unique to HIV/AIDS theory is the enormous damage it has caused, by making ill or actually killing hundreds of thousands (at least). The annals of modern medicine have no precedent for this, which is another reason why thoughtless supporters of HIV/AIDS orthodoxy may feel comfortable with it despite never having sought evidence for it.

So here’s the question to put to everyone who insists that HIV causes AIDS:

HOW  DID  YOU  COME  TO  BELIEVE  THAT?
WHAT  CONVINCED  YOU?

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Cited:
(1) Henry H. Bauer, Beyond Velikovsky: The History of a Public Controversy, University of Illinois Press, 1984; chapter 11, “Motives for believing”.
(2) Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, University of Chicago Press, 1970 (2nd ed., enlarged; 1st ed. 1962)

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Science Studies 101: Why is HIV/AIDS “science” so unreliable?

Posted by Henry Bauer on 2008/07/18

Recent comments and e-mails reminded me of my career change, about 3 decades ago, from chemist to science-studies scholar. I had begun to wonder: What is it exactly that has made science so strikingly reliable?

(This is a long post. If you prefer to read it as a pdf—of course without hyperlinks to some of the on-line references—here it is: sciencestudies101).

Over the years, teaching chemistry and publishing research in electrochemistry, I had become increasingly aware that research practices and practitioners differ significantly from the ideal images that had attracted me (1). My education, like that of most scientists, had been strictly technical: chemistry, physics, math, biology, statistics. Recreational reading had added some history of chemistry, which also focused on the technical aspects—progress, discoveries, breakthroughs. We were not exposed to history, philosophy, or sociology of science in any meaningful way; nor are most people who study science even nowadays.

Mid-20th century, that lack of exposure to the context and significance of scientific activity was partly a matter of Zeitgeist, I recognize in hindsight. Philosophy of science was rather in flux. History of science as a whole was not so different in approach from the history of chemistry I had read—and perhaps not so different from how history in general was being taught: as milestones of achievement made by great individuals (largely, of course, men). Sociology of science had been founded only in the late 1930s. It was the 1960s before historians of science and philosophers of science began to engage seriously with one another, an engagement illustrated by Thomas Kuhn’s “The Structure of Scientific Revolutions”. Sociologists of science, too, began to engage with the historians and philosophers of science.

Following World War II, some scientists and engineers were looking for ways to make their knowledge an effective influence in public policy. Emblematic of this quest was the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists. Starting about 1960, there were founded a variety of free-standing academic courses, a few research centers, and some organized academic programs under the rubric of “science and society”. These science-based ventures and the history-philosophy-based ones soon recognized each other as concerned with the same issues, yet even after a half-century, no truly integrated multi-disciplinary approach to understanding scientific activity has matured into an overall consensus (3). There persists a distinct internal division between those whose backgrounds are in the practice of science and technology and those whose backgrounds are in the humanities and social sciences (3, 4, 5). But despite differences over modes of interpretation and what is most worth looking into, there has accumulated a body of agreed facts about scientific activity. Most important for the present purpose is that many of those facts about science are at variance with commonplace conventional wisdom. Misconceptions about scientific activity are pervasive, not least among practicing scientists and medical practitioners.

I was lucky enough to participate in the early days of one of the first programs in the world in what has become known as “science and technology studies” (STS). At Virginia Tech, we began with physicists and chemists, economists and sociologists, mathematicians, statisticians, political scientists, and other as well, telling one another how we thought about science. We scientists learned to be less sure that our research reveals unchanging, objective, universal facts about the real world. The humanists and social scientists learned that the physical and biological sciences uncover facts about the real world that are more trustworthy than the knowledge accessible in such disciplines as sociology. We learned also how different are the viewpoints and intellectual values to which we are schooled in the various disciplines: in a sense, the differences are not so much intellectual as cultural ones (6,7, 8). I learned even more about such cultural differences between academic fields through having responsibility for the variety of disciplines embraced by a college of Arts & Sciences (10).

A salient fact is that “the scientific method” is more myth than reality (2, 11). What makes science relatively reliable is not any protocol or procedure that an individual scientist can follow, it is the interaction among practitioners as they critique one another’s claims, seek to build on them, and modify them, under constraints imposed by the concrete results of observations and experiments. Because individual biases predispose us to interpret the results of those observations and experiments in congenial ways, the chief safeguard of relative objectivity and reliability is honest, substantive peer-review by colleagues and competitors. That’s why I was grateful to “Fulano de Tal” when he pointed to errors in one of my posts: we rethinkers do not have the benefit of the organized peer-reviewing that is available—ideally speaking—in mainstream discourse [see Acknowledgment in More HIV/AIDS GIGO (garbage in and out): “HIV” and risk of death, 12 July 2008].

Because proper peer-review is so vital, conflicts of interest can be ruinously damaging (12, 13). Recommendations from the Food and Drug Administration or the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention are too often worthless—worse, they are sometimes positively dangerous (14)—because in latter days the advisory panels are being filled overwhelmingly with consultants for drug companies. That’s not generally enough appreciated, despite a large and authoritative literature on the subject (15-20).

Lacking familiarity with the findings of science studies, scientists are likely to be disastrous as administrators. It was a Nobel-Prize winner who relaxed the rules on conflicts of interest when he headed the National Institutes of Health, with quite predictably deplorable consequences (21). There have been many fine administrators of technical enterprises, but few had been themselves groundbreaking discoverers. To convince the scientific community of something that’s remarkable and novel, a scientist must be single-minded, captivated by the idea and willing to push it to the limit, against all demurrers—very bad qualities in an administrator; the latter ought to be a good listener, an adept engineer of compromises, an adroit manager able to stick to principles with an iron hand well masked by a velvet glove.

Those who have the egotism and dogmatic self-confidence to break new ground also need luck to be on their side, for—as Jack (I. J.) Good likes to point out—geniuses are cranks who happen to be right, and cranks are geniuses who happen to be wrong: in personal characteristics they are identical twins (22, 23). This role of luck has important implications: it’s why Nobel-Prize winners so rarely have comparable repeat successes, and why they should not be automatically regarded as the most insightful spokespeople on all and sundry matters.

HIV/AIDS vigilantes like to denigrate rethinkers for not having had their hands dirtied by direct research on the matters they discuss. Historians and sociologists of science, however, know that some of the most acclaimed breakthroughs were made by disciplinary outsiders, who were not blinkered and blinded by the contemporary paradigm (24, 25).

Self-styled “skeptics” (26) like to denigrate heterodox views as “pseudo-science” just because those views are heterodox, ignorant of the fact that there are no general criteria available by which to judge whether something is “scientific”; and they tend to be also ignorant of the fact that “scientific” cannot be translated as “true” (2, 27, 28).

Most relevant to the question of the “truth” of scientific knowledge is that science and scientists tend to occupy something of a pedestal of high prestige in contemporary society; perhaps because when we think of “science” we also tend to think “Einstein” and other such celebrated innovators. But nowadays there are a great many run-of-the-mill scientists, and even considerably incompetent ones: “Science, like the military, has its hordes of privates and non-coms, as well as its few heroes (from all ranks) and its few field marshals” (29)—which serves to explain, perhaps, some of the examples of sheer incompetence displayed in HIV/AIDS matters (30). Pertinent here is the fact that much medical research is carried out by people trained as doctors; training for physicians’ work is by no means training for research.

——————-

Those are some of the ways in which the commonplace conventional wisdom is wrong about science, but there are plenty more (24, 25, 32, 33). Those misconceptions play an important role in the hold that HIV/AIDS theory continues to have on practitioners, commentators, and observers, and they need to be pointed out in answer to the natural question often put to rethinkers: “But how could everyone be so wrong for so long?”

That’s why Part II of my book (31) has the title, “Lessons from History”, with chapters on “Missteps in modern medical science”, “How science progresses”, and “Research cartels and knowledge monopolies”. (About research cartels and knowledge monopolies, see also 34, 35). I’m enormously grateful to Virginia Tobiassen, the fine editor who helped me with the book, not least for the opportunity to augment the technical Part I with this Part II and the Part III that recounts the specific details of how HIV/AIDS theory went so wrong.

I’ve come to understand a great deal more since the book came out, among other things that perhaps the crucial turn on the wrong path came when Peter Duesberg’s rigorously researched and documented argument against HIV/AIDS theory went without comment, even in face of an editorial footnote promising such a response (36). Just as virologists ignored Duesberg’s substantive critiques, so epidemiologists ignored the informed critiques by Gordon Stewart (37) and immunologists ignored the fully documented questions raised by Robert Root-Bernstein (38); and just about everyone in mainstream fields ignored John Lauritsen’s insights into data analysis and his insider’s knowledge of interactions among gay men (39).

Peer review in HIV/AIDS “science” lapsed fatally from the beginning and has not yet recovered. Thus the only real safeguard of reliability was lost, it sometimes seems irretrievably.

References:
1. “Are chemists not scientists?”—p. 19 ff. in reference 2.
2. Henry H. Bauer, Scientific Literacy and the Myth of the Scientific Method, University of Illinois Press, 1992.
3. —— , A consumer’s guide to science punditry, Chapter 2 in Science Today: Problem or Crisis?, ed. R. Levinson & J. Thomas, Routledge, 1997.
4. —— , Two kinds of knowledge: maps and stories, Journal of Scientific Exploration 9 (1995) 257-75.
5. —— , The anti-science phenomenon in science studies, Science Studies 9 (1996) 34-49; .
6 —— , Disciplines as cultures, Social Epistemology 4 (1990) 215-27.
7. —— , Barriers against interdisciplinarity: Implications for studies of Science, Technology, and Society (STS), Science, Technology, & Human Values 15 (1990) 105-19.
8. Chapters 11, 14, 15 (in particular) in reference 9.
9. Henry H. Bauer, Fatal Attractions: The Troubles with Science, Paraview, 2001.
10. Chapters 15, 16 in Henry H. Bauer (as ‘Josef Martin’), To Rise above Principle: The Memoirs of an Unreconstructed Dean, University of Illinois Press.
11. Chapters 4, 5 in reference 9.
12. Chapter 5 in reference 2.
13. Andrew Stark, Conflict of Interest in American Public Life, Harvard University Press, 2000.
14. Joel Kauffman, Malignant Medical Myths: Why Medical Treatment Causes 200,000 Deaths in the USA each Year, and How to Protect Yourself, Infinity Publishing, 2006.
15. John Abramson, Overdosed America: The Broken Promise of American Medicine, HarperCollins, 2004.
16. Marcia Angell, The Truth about the Drug Companies: How They Deceive Us and What To Do about It, Random House, 2004.
17. Jerry Avorn, Powerful Medicines: The Benefits, Risks, and Costs of Prescription Drugs, Knopf, 2004.
18. Merrill Goozner, The $800 Million Pill: The Truth behind the Cost of New Drugs, University of California Press, 2004.
19. Jerome Kassirer, On the Take: How Medicine’s Complicity with Big Business Can Endanger Your Health, Oxford University Press, 2004.
20. Sheldon Krimsky, Science in the Private Interest, Rowman and Littlefield, 2003.
21. David Willman, Los Angeles Times, 7 December 2003: “Stealth merger: Drug companies and government medical research”, p. A1; “Richard C. Eastman: A federal researcher who defended a client’s lethal drug”, p. A32; “John I. Gallin: A clinic chief’s desire to ‘learn about industry’”, p. A33; “Ronald N. Germain: A federal lab leader who made $1.4 million on the side”, p. A34; “Jeffrey M. Trent: A government accolade from a paid consultant”, p. A35; “Jeffrey Schlom: A cancer expert who aided studies using a drug wanted by a client”, p. A35.
22. Henry H. Bauer, “The fault lies in their stars, and not in them — when distinguished scientists lapse into pseudo-science”, Center for the Study of Science in Society, Virginia Tech, 8 February 1996; “The myth of the scientific method”, 3rd Annual Josephine L. Hopkins Foundation Workshop for Science Journalists, Cornell University, 26 June 1996.
23. Chapters 9, 10 in reference 9.
24. Ernest B. Hook (ed.), Prematurity in Scientific Discovery: On Resistance and Neglect, University of California Press, 2002.
25. Henry H. Bauer, The progress of science and implications for science studies and for science policy, Perspectives on Science 11 (#2, 2003) 236-78.
26. The mother of all “skeptical” groups is CSICOP, publisher of Skeptical Inquirer; see George P. Hansen, “CSICOP and the Skeptics: an overview”, Journal of the American Society for Psychical Research, 86 (#1, 1992) 19-63.
27. Chapters 1-3, 6, 7 in reference 9.
28. Henry H. Bauer, Science or Pseudoscience: Magnetic Healing, Psychic Phenomena, and Other Heterodoxies, University of Illinois Press, 2001.
29. “Science as an institution”, pp. 303-6 in Henry H. Bauer, Beyond Velikovsky: The History of a Public Controversy, University of Illinois Press, 1984.
30. Pp. 110, 192, 195 in reference 31.
31. Henry H. Bauer, The Origin, Persistence and Failings of HIV/AIDS Theory, McFarland, 2007.
32. Chapters 1, 4, 6, 7 in reference 2.
33. Chapter 12 in reference 9.
34. Chapter 13 in reference 9.
35. Henry H. Bauer, Science in the 21st century: knowledge monopolies and research cartels, Journal of Scientific Exploration 18 (2004) 643-60.
36. Peter H. Duesberg, Retroviruses as carcinogens and pathogens: expectations and reality, Cancer Research 47 (1987) 1199–220; Human immunodeficiency virus and acquired immunodeficiency syndrome: correlation but not causation, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 86 (1989) 755–64.
37. Gordon T. Stewart, A paradigm under pressure: HIV-AIDS model owes popularity to wide-spread censorship. Index on Censorship (UK) 3 (1999).
38. Robert Root-Bernstein, Rethinking AIDS—The Tragic Cost of Premature Consensus, Free Press, 1993.
39. John Lauritsen, The AIDS War: Propaganda, Profiteering and Genocide from the Medical-Industrial Complex, 1993, ASKLEPIOS. ISBN 0–943742–08–0.

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