Bad Science
A Brief History
of
Bizarre Misconceptions,
Totally Wrong Conclusions
and
Incredibly Stupid Theories
Eagle Press
New York
For more information, or to contact the author, go to:
www.badsciences.com
Or write to:
Linda Zimmermann
P.O. Box192
Blooming Grove, NY 10914
Bad Science
Copyright © 2011 Linda Zimmermann
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
ISBN: 978-0-9799002-4-2
CONTENTS
Medicine 10
A Shocking Experience 10
Animal Magnetism 13
Where’s your Sense of Humour? 15
The Royal Touch 17
Getting Your Head Read 19
William Harvey 22
Keep them From Harm… 26
Bad Blood 29
Lying About Your Age 33
The Pen is Mightier than the Scalpel 35
When Good Scientists Go Bad 36
A Hole in One 38
Human Guinea Pigs 41
Fun with Radium and X-Rays 43
Chemistry and Pharmaceuticals 46
The Sears Catalog Did Have Everything 46
Legal Poison 48
Defective Testing 51
Nobel Prize for Death and Destruction 53
You Are What You Eat? 55
One Bad Apple 57
Dephlogistocation 59
Who Needs Scientists and Chemists, Anyway? 61
Birth, Contraception,and Sex 63
It’s The Thought That Counts 63
The Birth of an Anesthetic 64
Burning Curiosity 65
Clamping Down on a Family Secret 66
Take Two Aspirin and Get Burned at the Stake 68
Breeding Like a Rabbit 69
Inconceivable Conception 72
Back in the Saddle Again 75
Childbed Fever 78
A Stitch in Time 82
Rule of 120 85
Egyptian Dick and Jane An Ancient Tale of Contraception 86
Dentistry 88
The Evil Tooth Worm 88
Paying with your Teeth 90
Rub Them Out 92
Hush, Little Baby 93
Washing your Mouth Out with What? 95
Geology, Paleontology, Archaeology (and other things found in dirt) 98
Stone Blind 98
Skeletons in the closet 102
The Cardiff Giant 105
Another Giant Hoax 108
Piltdown Man 110
Missing the Link 113
Divine Hands 116
The Thirst for Gold 119
Catch My Drift? 123
Be Careful What You Ask For 126
The Miracle Mineral 127
Astronomy & the Space Program 132
Just in Time for Dinner 132
A Slight Miscalculation 133
Not So Happy Hour 134
Counter-Intelligence 135
The More The Merrier 137
Job Security 139
Too Much of a Bad Thing 140
Music To His Spheres 143
It Takes an Upstart… 146
Hitting Bottom 147
A High Stake Gamble 149
A Banner’s Day 150
To See, Or Not to See… 152
Insult and Injury 155
They Didn’t Call Them Dark For Nothing 157
Can’t Make Them Think 159
Six and Six Equal Nothing 161
Rising Above The Occasion 162
Send in the Clowns 163
Locke, Stock, and Barrel 165
Castles in the Sky 167
As The Planets Turn 168
Can't Argue With Success 170
Blood, Sweat, and Fears 172
You Think Your Job Is Tough? 173
Eclipsing Reason 174
Now You See It, Now You Don’t 176
Aiming To Please 178
Et Tu, Augustus? 180
Good Comet, Bad Comet 181
In The Eyes of the Beholder 183
It’s the “Thought Balls” that Count 184
All Dressed Up and Look Out Below! 186
Divine Protection? 189
Hot Rocks 190
Close Encounters of the Absurd Kind 191
Another Nutty Professor? 193
One of the Few Times Bigger Isn’t Better 195
Bad Archaeoastronomy 196
Friar Fire 197
Is Anybody Home? 199
Put Up and Shut Up 200
Martians Are Easy 201
Fine Line 202
Lunar Roving 205
Broken-down Chariots 206
Not Worth the Ink 208
Let’s Face It 209
Star War? 212
Deep Disturbance 214
It Doesn’t Take a Rocket Scientist… 215
Have You Ever Been Plutoed? 217
Hubble, Hubble, Toil and Trouble 219
In Conclusion: The Mother of All Bad Space Travel (or Lack Thereof) 220
Scientists, Heredity, DNA, Firearms, and Everything Else that didn’t Fit into Previous Categories 224
Spontaneous Generation 224
Pasteur 226
Shooting Your Mouth Off 228
William Charlton 232
Perpetual Fraud 233
Was it Dominant or Recessive Fraud? 236
Hereditary Nonsense 238
Getting the Cold Shoulder 242
Taking Out the Garbage? 245
The Unkindest Cut of All 248
Breathtaking Inanity 250
Author’s Note
I love science.
Although I didn’t realize it at the time, in retrospect I freely admit I was a science geek when I was a kid. I charted sunspots, collected bugs, built models of spacecraft, mixed household chemicals and cleaning products to see how they would react, took things apart to see how they worked, and enthusiastically tried to learn everything I could.
Even though I also loved to write and knew someday I would give it a shot, there was never any question that I would first pursue a career in science. While in college, I got a part-time job working in the Quality Control microbiology lab of a medical diagnostics company. I moved over to chemistry QC, and after graduation, became a full-time employee in the Research and Development department.
I wore the requisite white lab coat, the nerdy safety glasses and safety shoes, and was completely enamored of all the glassware, chemicals, and instrumentation. What I didn’t like was the company politics, the sales and marketing people who were treated like demigods (while the scientists who created the products they sold were clearly second-class citizens), and the arrogance and outright dishonesty of some of the scientists who felt that higher degrees were something akin to being members of the aristocracy.
The writer in me stirred. These people were sullying the purity of science, and I became rather miffed. In response, I wrote a satirical newsletter called the Narwhal Gazette (it’s a long story), and lampooned the company’s people, policies, and projects. To my astonishment, I didn’t get fired! In fact, everyone—including the bosses and stuffy scientists—loved it, and people began lining up at the copier to get the latest issue “hot off the presses.” People actually wanted to be written about, and I was emboldened to be even more outrageous and daring in my satire.
The Gazette flourished for many years, until new management came in. They were not amused. I had two options—stop writing the Gazette, or continue with the agreement that all my articles would be approved and edited by management. Inflamed with
righteous indignation, there was no question that I would sooner stand before a firing squad, before I would submit to state-sanctioned censorship, so the farewell issue of the Gazette signaled the end to my humorous barbs aimed at the world of science.
Or so I thought.
When the company eliminated the R&D department, I didn’t seek out another job in a lab. The magnetic pull of writing took hold and I began working on short stories, novels, history articles and books, and articles on astronomy. I also started lecturing on astronomy, and came upon the idea for a humorous program about the history of all the crazy things that were once believed. One thing led to another, and in 1995, I published the book Bad Astronomy: A Brief History of Bizarre Misconceptions, Totally Wrong Conclusions, and Incredibly Stupid Theories.
I gave presentations on Bad Astronomy at “Star Parties” and astronomy conventions from New England to Florida, and enjoyed every minute of it. There was the occasional audience member who thought I was being too critical of those throughout history who had committed acts of Bad Astronomy, but the overwhelming majority of people just laughed and had a good time.
I went on to many other writing projects over the years, but all the while kept my eyes open for similar examples in other fields of science, and added those stories to a folder I marked “Bad Science.” I knew some day another book would emerge from that overstuffed folder, and that day came in 2010, when the magnetic pull of science—and memories of the Gazette—signaled that the time had come.
As much as I enjoy writing on a wide variety of topics, plunging headlong into Bad Science was a wonderful revelation. This is who I was—the geeky science kid, grown up into the wisecracking author/lecturer, with an irresistible urge to smite the foes of Good Science. It was a project I never wanted to end, but as sad as I was to complete the manuscript, I was overjoyed at the prospect of sharing my irreverent views with readers and audiences again.
So, where do I stand on what constitutes Bad Science? For starters, the short answer would be torturing someone like Galileo for his heliocentric theories. Then there are those who commit fraud or harm people because of greed and ego. There’s also the ever-popular ignoring the obvious to perpetuate one’s own agenda, and refusing to evaluate the merits of the facts because of personal and religious beliefs.
On this last point, I need to make special mention. When it comes to personal beliefs, I am fully aware that my way of thinking isn’t exactly in the mainstream, and I believe in some things that others would consider completely absurd, weird, and unscientific. But at least I know they are unscientific, and always try to maintain a separation between personal beliefs and science.
But enough of all this. The purpose of this book is to amuse you, the reader, and if you learn something along the way, so much the better. Judge for yourself the merits of each case presented here. And if you happen to work in a lab, hospital, or research facility, keep your eyes and ears open—for Bad Science is always lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike!
Linda Zimmermann
January 2011
Medicine
A Shocking Experience
In 1781, Luigi Galvani made a dead frog jump by applying an electric current to its muscles. Immediately, dissatisfied young housewives dreamed of using this technique on their aging husbands, while physicians envisioned a greater benefit, i.e., to their bank accounts. Operating under the broad assumption that hefty doses of electricity had a stimulating and therapeutic effect on people, patients everywhere were soon dishing out the cash to be zapped by various devices. Most of these devices impressed patients with their noise and the tingling sensations and pain they produced, but the scientific community eventually realized they had no real medical value.
While the use of properly controlled electricity can be of enormous medical value today (for instance, the “paddles” used to get a heart beating again), the early “medical batteries” can be elevated no higher than to the level of amusing parlor tricks. However, if a study of medicine has proven anything, it is that some people never give up.
Enter Charles Willie Kent in 1918, who fancied himself the living embodiment of both Euclid, the ancient Greek mathematician, and Abraham Lincoln. His claim to fame was the Electreat Mechanical Heart, which, curiously enough, was neither mechanical nor any type of pumping apparatus. It was, in fact, a throwback to the old electric devices of the previous century, with a rather disturbing twist—thin metal rods which could be inserted into the orifice of your choice.
Beyond providing nasty shocks in unspeakable places, the Electreat was supposed to stop pains of all sorts, and cure everything from dandruff to glaucoma to appendicitis. Kent even claimed that his device had the power to enlarge women’s breasts. All this for the low price of $15 retail, and at $7 wholesale, the 229,273 units Kent sold made him a tidy little fortune.
The Electreat’s many useless uses.
There was only one small problem. The only thing the Electreat helped was Kent’s cash flow. In 1941, the FDA finally brought Kent to court to answer to his wild claims of the device’s miraculous powers. The government paraded an impressive line of experts who systematically demolished Kent’s assertions.
For example, the primary benefit of the Electreat was supposed to be increased blood circulation. A biologist from the University of Kansas explained in detail how the device actually caused the opposite reaction, effectively stopping the flow of blood in the unfortunate muscle to which the Electreat’s current was being applied (information which no doubt brought great disappointment to those dissatisfied housewives).
After the blistering testimony for the prosecution, Kent, against the better judgment of his lawyer, decided to take the stand. Repeatedly embarrassing himself with his medical and electrical ignorance, his crowning blunder came when asked if he used the Electreat on his own body.
“Yes, sir,” Mr. Kent boldly replied, “For menopause!”
With the court’s blessing, Kent’s stock of Electreat Mechanical Hearts was rounded up and destroyed. Defeated, but undaunted, Kent was determined to resume production. Shortages due to World War II kept him from his goal until 1946, when Electreats once again appeared on the market, albeit with greatly subdued claims. Once again, Kent and the experts met in court, and once again the government ably proved its point.
This time, Kent could have gone to prison for endangering and duping a gullible populace, but due to his advanced age, he was fined a mere $1,000. With his dreams and business shattered, perhaps he was able to find some little comfort in his twilight years with his fortune, and a well-placed metal rod.
“Fooling around with alternating current is just a waste of time. Nobody will use it, ever.”
Thomas Edison, 1889
Animal Magnetism
Today, animal magnetism alludes to one’s sexual allure, but in the 1700s it referred to a mysterious force that was supposed to have the power to heal. Promoted by Dr. Franz Anton Mesmer, animal magnetism may go down in history as one of the greatest marketing ploys, as well as one of the greatest frauds.
For starters, Dr. Mesmer earned his degree the old fashioned way—plagiarism. The dissertation from which he “borrowed” concerned the influence of the planets on health, so it was no great leap to his contention that there was a “universal magnetic fluid,” and he had the ability to control it with various devices.
However, even without these devices, Mesmer did appear to have quite the magnetic personality. He developed a form of hypnosis that worked rather effectively with his patients—especially on the impressionable “hysterical bourgeois women” that seemed to predominate his clientele. Mesmer was said to have been able to make people fall into a trance, have convulsions, dance, and best of all, think they were cured. His prowess is forever immortalized in the popularly used term “mesmerized,” which today still describes a hypnotic or spellbinding effect.
But let us return to animal magnetism and the creative ways Mesmer used to exploit it. First, it should be
explained where he got the idea to use magnetism—he stole it. This time, it was from a Jesuit named Maximilian Hell. The regrettably named Father Hell used a steel plate that was supposedly magnetized to heal people. Many claimed that the metal plate cured what ailed them, so Mesmer took the concept and ran with it—eventually running all the way to Paris where he was to reach the heights of the royal court, and the pinnacle of quack medicine.