We’re all different. Sounds obvious, right? Yet, every day, people on platforms like X go to war over health advice, medications, and “miracle cures” as if one size fits all. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Our genetics make us unique—not just in how we look but in how our bodies handle diseases, drugs, and even nutrients. This is called bioindividuality, and ignoring it is why so many online arguments about health are a waste of time.

Take my friend Oz Garcia, a world-renowned nutritionist who’s worked with A-listers and, frankly, saved my life. When I was struggling, Oz used IV treatments like N-acetylcysteine (NAC) and glutathione to keep my liver functioning—way better than the outcome Steve Jobs faced with his liver transplant. But when Oz recently pointed out that some people don’t respond well to ivermectin (a drug hyped for off-label use), he got attacked online. Why? Because he dared suggest that a genetic mutation might make some folks immune to certain diseases or unresponsive to certain treatments. The mob didn’t want to hear it. But he’s right.

Your Genes, Your Health

Let’s talk science for a second. About 10% of people of European descent carry a genetic mutation called CCR5-delta 32. This tiny tweak in DNA stops HIV from entering immune cells, offering near-total resistance to the virus. Researchers like Christopher Duncan and Susan Scott from the University of Liverpool believe this mutation became common because it protected people during the plagues of the Middle Ages (1347–1660). They argue those plagues weren’t bubonic plague (a bacterial disease) but a viral hemorrhagic fever, since CCR5-delta 32 doesn’t block bacteria. Their computer models show the mutation’s prevalence jumped from 1 in 20,000 during the Black Death to 1 in 10 today. Survivors with the mutation passed it on, and it stuck around.

Does this mutation protect against modern diseases like COVID-19? The data’s murky. A University of Copenhagen study calls the HIV resistance “almost coincidental,” and there’s no solid evidence it helps against SARS-CoV-2. Other genetic factors, like errors in type 1 interferon, explain about 20% of severe COVID-19 cases, according to Nature Immunology. But CCR5-delta 32? Not a clear player. There’s also a catch: genes that helped your ancestors survive the Black Death might increase your risk of autoimmune diseases today, per a Harvard Health report. Survival back then could mean health trade-offs now.

Why One Cure Doesn’t Fit All

We’ve all heard stories of someone “cured” of cancer or another serious illness by a specific nutrient, tea, prayer, meditation, or even a shaman. I’m not here to dismiss those stories—our minds and bodies are powerful, and I believe in exploring all possibilities. But what works for one person might do nothing for another because of bioindividuality. Your genes might make you a super-responder to a drug like ivermectin, while someone else’s genes make it useless or even harmful. The same goes for supplements, herbs, or that trendy green juice.

This brings us to the FDA, which I hate to admit might have a point. Their insistence on rigorous, placebo-controlled studies before approving drugs isn’t just bureaucracy—it’s an acknowledgment that bioindividuality makes universal claims about treatments tricky. A drug that saves one person might harm another. That’s why they test broadly. But here’s where I get mad: the FDA’s narrow definition of a “drug” as the only thing that can “cure” a disease ignores the power of natural remedies—plants, herbs, nutrients, and even your own mindset. These can’t be patented, so they’re often sidelined.

Here’s the kicker: many drugs are just tweaked versions of compounds found in nature. Pharmaceutical companies make small changes to plants or herbs, patent the result, and call it a “drug.” Sometimes, those changes don’t even improve the original. So, while we’re arguing about “natural” versus “pharmaceutical,” the truth is they’re often closer than we think.

Stop Fighting, Start Listening

Before you jump into an X thread to scream about how ivermectin, vitamin C, or a kale smoothie cured your cousin’s friend, take a breath. Bioindividuality means your cousin’s friend isn’t you. Or me. Or anyone else. That CCR5-delta 32 mutation is just one example of how our genes shape our health in ways we’re only beginning to understand. Smallpox might have driven its spread too, but as Duncan points out, it wasn’t widespread enough in Europe before the 1600s to fully explain it. We need more research—not more yelling.

So, next time you’re tempted to dunk on someone’s health take online, remember: we’re all wired differently. What worked for you might flop for someone else. Instead of arguing, let’s push for more research into how our unique biology shapes our health. And maybe, just maybe, listen to folks like Oz Garcia, who’ve seen firsthand how bioindividuality changes the game.

Your thoughts? Drop them below, but let’s keep it civil—no Twitter-style pile-ons, please.

References

• Duncan, S. R., Scott, S., & Duncan, C. J. (2005). Reappraisal of the historical selective pressures for the CCR5-Δ32 mutation. Journal of Medical Genetics.
• Galvani, A. P., & Novembre, J. (2005). The evolutionary history of the CCR5-Δ32 HIV-resistance mutation. Microbes and Infection.
• Hubacek, J. A., et al. (2021). CCR5Delta32 deletion as a protective factor in Czech first-wave COVID-19 subjects. Physiological Research.
• Harvard Health Publishing (2022). Genes that helped people survive the Black Death may be influencing our health today. Harvard Medical School.
• Hütter, G., et al. (2009). Long-term control of HIV by CCR5 Delta32/Delta32 stem-cell transplantation. New England Journal of Medicine.
• Ellwanger, J. H., et al. (2020). Beyond HIV infection: Neglected and varied impacts of CCR5 and CCR5Δ32 on viral diseases. International Journal of Molecular Sciences.
• Novembre, J., Galvani, A. P., & Slatkin, M. (2005). The geographic spread of the CCR5 Δ32 HIV-resistance allele. PLOS Biology.
• Cohn, S. K., & Weaver, L. T. (2006). The Black Death and AIDS: CCR5-Δ32 in genetics and history. QJM: An International Journal of Medicine.

Your thoughts? Drop them below, but let’s keep it civil—no Twitter-style pile-ons, please.