AI & I foreword by Dr Stowell

Dr. Philip Bradfield Stowell

MB BS (London), FACNEM

Retired GP, Australia/UK/Algeria

 

I retired in 2022 after 44 years as a general medical practitioner or family doctor, having worked across three continents, firstly in the UK, then briefly in Africa, and finally in Australia. Our family can count more than five generations of doctors. Like my father, I was trained at Brasenose College, Oxford, and St Thomas’ Hospital Medical School in London, qualifying in 1977. I emigrated to Australia in 1988, where I remained in practice until retirement. Along the way, I became a Fellow of the Australasian College of Nutritional and Environmental Medicine (ACNEM) and gave talks regularly at their seminars.

Being a doctor is one of the most privileged occupations in the world. It carries immense social and clinical responsibility, you are awarded the profound trust of your patients, and you have a sacred duty to uphold the principles embedded in the Hippocratic Oath:

• Professionalism
• Autonomy
• Privacy
• Informed consent
• And, above all, non-maleficence

“Primum non nocere,” or “First, do no harm,” is a widely known medical maxim and often quoted, but there is a second and perhaps more important guiding principle and it is the precautionary principle, which urges humility and caution at every clinical intervention.

Over the decades, I have witnessed a steady erosion of professional independence and the creeping encroachment of bureaucratic and corporate control over the doctor-patient relationship, guidelines and protocols increasingly replacing thoughtful, individualised care.

By early 2020, I sensed something was deeply wrong. The COVID pandemic was not unfolding naturally; it was being orchestrated. What struck me wasn’t just the clamor of the content but its delivery: synchronised slogans, coordinated and identical media messaging and scripts, and government-sponsored fear and silly distraction campaigns, like “Clap for the NHS.”

We were told to “trust the science,” yet any principled or evidence-based alternative views were mocked, censored, or punished.

We were told the injection stayed in the arm, yet it doesn’t.

We were told it was safe and effective, yet the data says otherwise.

We were even told not to aspirate before injecting the gene therapy, a basic step to avoid intravascular delivery. That advice, in my view, was clinically negligent.

The truth was out there all the time, spoken by respected voices in their fields but not covered by the MSM. Sadly, they were ignored, silenced, or destroyed.

• Medical colleges turned on their own.
• Principled dissenters were deregistered.
• Clinical caution became a crime.
• Medical curiosity became heresy.

This reversal of the most foundational ethics in medicine paralysed many practitioners. It prevented honest understanding of the illness and crippled any humane response.

At every turn, transparency was absent. The public was kept in the dark. And too many doctors, whether fearful, captured, or for whatever other reason, stayed silent.

In retirement, freed from professional constraints and the ever-present threat of AHPRA, I explored more deeply. Many dissenting voices have emerged, some thoughtful, others extreme, but most pointing to long-laid plans: from the eugenics movement to Fabian socialism and early technocratic visions of a managed society.

Dissenters to The Narrative have worked diligently, publishing research, ideas, clinical observations wherever they can. But their contributions were hard to find, suppressed, ignored, ridiculed. Despite the effort and integrity of many professionals, their warnings rarely reached the wider public.

Recently, I came across a website called Not On The Beeb or NOTB and I was offered an early review copy of AI & I.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I dipped in.

AI & I is an assessment of many of the aspects of the theatre of the last five years.

It does not scream or accuse; it reveals and invites.

The text presents a forensic, almost Socratic dialogue between a human author, Mark Playne, and an artificial intelligence system, direct and uninterrupted, except for the occasional short commentary from the author. Playne’s questions are informed, carefully constructed, and wide-ranging, but he never editorialises. He does not tell the reader what to believe. He simply asks and records what comes back. Challenges to these AI responses follow with unexpected answers. The result is a work that is almost shockingly objective given the explosive nature of its subject matter. And further, the implications are staggering.

I don’t know whether everything in these pages is or will turn out to be true, or metaphorical, or a mix of both, but I do know this: it is far better to engage with these possibilities now than to feign ignorance later.

To my former colleagues in medicine:

I extend an invitation to read this book in its entirety.

Read it with an open and inquisitive mind.

Don’t pre-judge it because of your training or current position, or because you’re still walking on eggshells to keep your job.

Question your previous wisdom.

Remember what “Primum non nocere” actually means, and ask yourself whether ignoring potential theoretical harms, simply because they are politically inconvenient and/or not in the headlines, is still compatible with your oath.

To everyone else: 

For scientists, thinkers, and citizens alike, the value of this book lies in its method.

This book doesn’t demand belief. It demands attention. It asks nothing more than that you read, think, and then perhaps investigate further for yourself.

AI & I is not about the answers. It’s about permission to ask questions and how we might begin to reclaim our right to do so.

It is also, I might add, a truly compelling read.