My Journey into Researching Pandemics, Vaccines, and Viruses

By Matthew North - 25 Jan 2025

Introduction

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been deeply curious about the ways we understand and respond to disease. While I’ve always been more inclined to keep to myself, my growing concerns about the systems and assumptions underlying modern medicine eventually became impossible to ignore. The work I’ve been doing—quietly, in the background—for years felt too important to keep private any longer.

I live in California, where I’ve been researching pandemics, vaccines, and the dynamics of viral transmission. My views on vaccines might not align with the mainstream narrative, and I’ve faced criticism for openly questioning their safety and effectiveness. But these questions, born out of years of reading, observing, and reflecting, are what drive me.

My skepticism stems from what I see as gaps in the research and a lack of transparency from those creating and promoting vaccines. I’ve dedicated myself to exploring these issues, not as an outsider hoping to stir controversy, but as someone committed to uncovering the truth—whatever that truth may be.

Why I Turned to Research

At first, my role was mostly that of an advocate. I shared information, gave talks to small groups, and encouraged people to think critically about the risks and benefits of vaccines. Over time, though, I realized that advocacy wasn’t enough. There were too many unanswered questions, too many assumptions that hadn’t been fully investigated. So, I turned to research.

One of the areas I’ve been diving into recently is the methodology behind studying viruses themselves, specifically the process known as cell culture isolation. It’s a fundamental technique in virology, used to identify and analyze viruses, but I’ve always wondered how much of what we “know” is shaped by the tools we use. These methods involve growing viruses in a controlled lab environment, typically using host cells, and then interpreting the behavior of those viruses.

But what if those interpretations are influenced by the process itself? What if the environment we create in the lab doesn’t fully reflect what happens in real life? These are the kinds of questions I’m exploring, to push for a deeper understanding of what we’re looking at when we study viruses (if they even exist).

Rethinking Transmission Studies

Another focus of mine has been viral transmission studies—how we study and explain the spread of diseases. These studies are often used to justify public health measures, but I’ve noticed that the experimental designs can leave room for alternative explanations.

For instance, how much of what we attribute to “viral spread” is actually influenced by factors like environment, human behavior, or even misinterpreted symptoms? I’ve been combing through decades of transmission studies, looking for patterns, gaps, and assumptions that might warrant a closer look.

This work isn’t glamorous, and it doesn’t come with instant answers. It’s slow, detailed, and sometimes frustrating, but I believe it’s necessary. If we’re going to base policies and practices on these studies, we need to ensure they hold up under scrutiny.

Why I’m Speaking Out

I’ve always been someone who prefers to work quietly, outside the spotlight. But as I’ve gone deeper into this research, I’ve realized that staying silent isn’t an option anymore. What I’m uncovering raises important questions—not just about vaccines or pandemics, but about the way we approach science itself.

I don’t have all the answers, and I’m not claiming to be the final authority on these issues. My goal isn’t to convince anyone to think exactly like me, but to encourage people to think critically and ask questions. Science is supposed to be a process of exploration, not dogma.

Moving Forward

There’s still so much to learn, and I plan to keep going as long as I can. Whether it’s refining how we study viruses, reexamining how diseases spread, or questioning long-standing assumptions about vaccines, my goal is to contribute to a deeper, more transparent understanding of the world we live in.

I know this work won’t make me popular, and I’m okay with that. I didn’t start this journey for recognition. I started it because I believe the questions I’m asking—and the answers I’m seeking—matter. And if my work can inspire others to dig a little deeper, to challenge what they think they know, then it will have been worth it.

Conclusion

Michael Crichton explains it best when he said (Reference):

I regard consensus science as an extremely pernicious development that ought to be stopped cold in its tracks. Historically, the claim of consensus has been the first refuge of scoundrels; it is a way to avoid debate by claiming that the matter is already settled. Whenever you hear the consensus of scientists agrees on something or other, reach for your wallet, because you’re being had.

Let’s be clear: the work of science has nothing whatever to do with consensus. Consensus is the business of politics. Science, on the contrary, requires only one investigator who happens to be right, which means that he or she has results that are verifiable by reference to the real world. In science consensus is irrelevant. What are relevant are reproducible results. The greatest scientists in history are great precisely because they broke with the consensus. There is no such thing as consensus science. If it’s consensus, it isn’t science. If it's science, it isn't consensus. Period.