Are you a “medical disinformer”?

What a blessing that the modern age has traded the blunt sword of burning heretics for the scalpel-sharp instrument of “medical disinformation.” Anyone suspected of spreading such information is no longer burned at the stake, but simply silenced in the digital ether.

After all, it is an act of pure charity when self-proclaimed fact-checkers protect the public from toxic heresy by neatly removing troublesome mavericks and other intellectual troublemakers from the discourse. The fact that science, historically speaking, thrives on eternal debate and the overturning of old dogmas is an inconvenient detail that one can safely ignore for the sake of
public hygiene. Where would we end up if responsible patients suddenly began to question white-coated demigods, weighing the benefits and risks for themselves, instead of blindly paying homage to the pharmaceutical-subsidized consensus?


“Medical disinformation”? A very convenient term: In the past, one had to refute a lie. Today, a sticker is enough. It follows that disinformation is truth with bad timing.

The term sounds like hygiene, smells like science, and acts like a disinfectant spray against unwanted thoughts. Anyone who asks whether guideline committees and health authorities might also be wrong, whether pharmaceutical companies can deceive with impunity, and whether patients are allowed to have their own experiences is already halfway into the digital quarantine tent. There, they are not refuted, but labeled — which saves time, arguments, and tedious encounters with uncooperative evidence. Divergent opinions are then not regarded as hypotheses worthy of discussion, errors, or minority positions, but as infectious aerosols in the debate room.

Of course, there are real charlatans, fraudsters, and dangerous nonsense—but how convenient it is when their shadow falls immediately on anyone who doesn’t sing along with the chorus of licensed professionals. Thus, enlightenment becomes bureaucracy, debate becomes risk mitigation, and science becomes an exclusive club with a lab coat requirement. The informed patient is still free to believe anything, as long as it has been pre-approved and declared safe by the right commission. And so he continues to sleep soundly, sheltered by third-party-funded science that is so sterile and germ-free that, amid all the consensus, there is no room left for scientific progress. Amen.

(Harald Wiesendanger)