They don't actually think anyone who suggests IRB approval is very mean and very bad, that line really isn't the thesis statement. If you read a bit further I think you'd be less annoyed by it.
They don't actually think anyone who suggests IRB approval is very mean and very bad, that line really isn't the thesis statement. If you read a bit further I think you'd be less annoyed by it.
In this case, it functions as a hook; it's there to give you a slight chuckle before diving into a long and relatively dry informative article. It's some clear sarcasm makes you evaluate the supposed assertion made - that people who push for IRB evaluations are meanie-heads - and challenges any preconceived notions you might have of it being a simple "this is good" or "this is bad" thing either way because of course it's not that simple. This invites the question to the reader: if it's not as simple as that, then how is it actually?
Of course, if the tone doesn't land and you read it as a factual statement - and, importantly, it's so distasteful that you immediately bail and don't read the rest of the article to see what it's actually about, and just assume it's a petulant tirade against IRBs - none of that works. If you're at all interested, I would recommend reading some Adam Mastroianni / Experimental History posts, as it has a very similar feel but plays to the strengths of the tone a bit better (IMO). This one [0] actually touches on the use of humor in scientific papers, and I think makes a pretty good case for why clinical language isn't necessarily a good thing.
[0] https://www.experimental-history.com/p/the-rise-and-fall-of-...