Satire from Perplexity
20 ways to ignore Rebecca Culshaw's Substack criticisms of the HIV paradigm that threaten your research career in HIV
Cite more acronyms than actual data — the less your audience understands, the safer your paradigm.
Blame “misinformation” vaguely — never define it, just use it as a spell to ward off unwelcome questions.
Publish another mouse model study — nothing silences dissent like more obscure rodent immune graphs.
Wave the peer‑review talisman — proof you are right is printed in prestige journals, not in Substack newsletters.
Invoke “consensus” as if it were the same as evidence, preferably in bold PowerPoint font.
Claim she must be “anti‑science” — no one asks what that actually means anyway.
Refuse to read the essays — if you don’t see them, they can’t hurt you.
Say she’s just recycling 1990s critiques — don’t mention which ones still haven’t been answered.
Pretend Substack doesn’t count as publishing — unless, of course, you want to write your own essay there.
Distract with funding statistics — “Look how much money NIH spends! That proves correctness!”
Label all critics as “fringe” — even if they once shared an office down the hall.
Overuse the “harm to patients” argument — it works great, even if the essay didn’t mention treatment refusal.
Keep committees busy with working groups — delay is the best disinfectant.
Insist her arguments are “too simplistic” — but never actually explain them to students in detail.
Redirect to climate change — “Why are we debating HIV when the planet is burning?”
Recycle the Montagnier and Gallo hero imagery — nostalgia is safer than scrutiny.
Invent elaborate strawman versions — easier to torch than the real essay.
Host another symposium on minor lab techniques — a good pipetting panel always pushes philosophy aside.
Compare critics to flat‑earthers — classic, quick, and requires no further engagement.
Assure everyone “the science is settled” — the career‑preserving lullaby for all occasions.
