Bad Science Read online

  As Mesmer described the principles of his healing powers, the human body often suffered from blockages and disruptions to the flow of magnetic fluid, and his therapies corrected that flow. This was achieved by touching the patient with metal rods that were usually connected to a fluid that allegedly created electricity and magnetic power. He even came up with a tub of fluid in which the patient sat and was then touched with metal rods. However, when crowds began to gather for treatments, Mesmer realized he needed to expand and create mass magnetic devices.

  Actually asserting that he could magnetize just about anything, Mesmer claimed to have magnetized a large tree. He then hung ropes out of this magnetized tree, and patients would hold on to the ropes to receive their remarkable treatments. Sticking with the original tub concept, he also constructed “baquets.” These were big wooden tubs about five feet in diameter, which contained various bottles and iron filings submerged in a foot of water, the whole of which was supposed to act something like a battery for magnetic fluid. Metal rods were placed in the walls of the tub, and patients would rest their afflicted regions against the rods.

  Mesmer’s greatest performances, however, must have been those he conducted while wearing colorful robes, like Merlin working his magic on wealthy and clueless audiences. Combining hypnosis, his magnetic tubs, and a level of showmanship that would have brought a tear to eye of P.T. Barnum, he became the darling of the court of Louis XVI. Until the party ended in 1784…

  A group of scientists—including Ben Franklin, who knew a thing or two about electricity—examined Mesmer’s tubs and devices, and found nothing. No electricity, no powerful mysterious forces, no trace of animal magnetism. Finally exposed as a fraud, Mesmer’s therapies were officially banned.

  Mesmer eventually left Paris and lived a quiet life until his death at the age of 85, which wasn’t too shabby for those days. Perhaps he did know something after all?

  Unfortunately, the magic of magnetism still has the power to separate naïve people from their money. Magnetic bracelets, bands, belts, and even self-adhesive magnets to stick wherever you like, are still marketed in catalogs, infomercials, and alternative healing clinics. In retrospect, the success of these items may speak more to the failure of modern medicine to cure what ails us—or at least be able to do it at a price the average person can afford!

  So go ahead, toss some ropes into a tree, build a baquet in your backyard, throw in some iron filings, add a few metal rods, and invite your friends over for a mesmerizing evening…

  Where’s your Sense of Humour?

  For thousands of years, the practice of medicine was based upon the four humours, or fluids, that supposedly determined a person’s temperament and physical characteristics, and they also led to disease if they were out of balance. These humours were yellow bile, black bile, blood, and phlegm, or as Hippocrates referred to them—cholera, melankholia, sanguis, and phlegma.

  If the humours were in equilibrium, a person would be healthy and have an even temperament. However, if a person was thought to have too much blood, for instance, he was prone to one of the “hot” diseases and fever, and would need to be bled to restore order. Of course, too much bleeding would lead to death, but at least the corpse would have a balanced sense of humour.

  It was also a commonly held belief that many things could adversely affect the humours, such as the seasons, mysterious “vapors” in the air, as well as the food one ate.

  In all fairness, considering the fact that previous to the concept of humours, the practice of medicine was often nothing more than ceremonies to drive away evil spirits, this was all quite a big step forward. It at least got people thinking about the relationship of diet and exercise to overall health, and to start categorizing symptoms of various diseases and how they affect the organs.

  The problem is, no real advancements beyond the belief in humours took place for many centuries. The erroneous and often harmful practices and treatments which attempted to balance the humours continued into the 19th century, and are actually still part of some modern systems of medicine. These ancient beliefs have also left their mark in our daily lives, as many terms that harken back to “humourism” have become permanent fixtures in our language, such as sanguine, melancholy, a “dry” wine, and “hot” spices.

  It is impossible to imagine how many lives were lost over the millennia because of the belief in humours, but the road to Good Science is all too often paved with human suffering. Perhaps some people were actually helped by a more sensible diet, some exercise, and the judicious use of herbs. And perhaps, if there was a lot less yellow and black bile in the world today, mankind’s humour would improve.

  The Royal Touch

  King Edward the Confessor (1002-1066) of England earned his name through his piety. However, as compassionate and devout as he was, it may have gone to his head just a bit.

  There was, at the time, a nasty disease known as scrofula; a swelling of the neck due to tuberculosis in the glands. The condition came to be known as the “king’s evil,” because King Edward believed he could cure it, starting a long tradition of a monarch’s alleged ability to heal by touch.

  The whole affair began, as the story goes, when a young married woman contracted the disease because she was unable to conceive, which led to a build-up of bad humours in her neck (but that’s all an entirely different story). Suffice it to say, the woman’s neck was swollen. One night, she dreamt that the king could cure her by washing the affected area. So the next day, she went into the palace (apparently a lot easier to do in those days), told the king her sad story, and was delighted that he agreed to wash her neck.

  As good King Edward rubbed the swollen area, the skin ruptured and all manner of putrid fluids gushed out, accompanied by a substantial population of squirming, writhing worms (clearly not a typical case of tuberculosis). Barely a week later, the worms were all gone, the gaping wound had closed with no sign of scarring, and a faith healer was born. King Edward soon expanded his repertoire to curing epilepsy and all types of ailments, although scrofula did remain his sentimental favorite.

  Most amazing of all, the practice of the “Royal Touch” continued in France and England until the 18th century. Elaborate ceremonies were developed for the regal dispensation of the touch, and during a single ceremony, as many as 1,500 people would have the magic hand of the benevolent ruler placed upon their brows. In fact, it seems that just about everyone in those days was touched in the head.

  A broadside about the “healing” event.

  However, not all monarchs believed themselves to be healers. Yet those who tried to stop the practice were vehemently criticized and accused of being cruel and heartless. King William III of England (1650-1702), himself a reluctant healer, dispensed something with each touch which was indeed valuable—a piece of wise advice. William would lay his hands upon the patient and utter the words, “May God give you better health and more sense.”

  Getting Your Head Read

  A person’s character and behavior are complex things, and can be influenced by environment, stress, diet, disease, and of course, hormones. Oh, and did I mention hormones?

  Anyway, in the 1790s, a doctor in Vienna, Franz Gall, believed he discovered the “one true science of the mind,” where the contours of the skull were signposts to an individual’s nature. He drew these conclusions based upon the premise that the brain had separate and distinct “organs” for each of the various characteristics. The larger the organ, the more powerful that characteristic, and the more prominent that region of the skull would be. Similarly, a depressed region of the skull would indicate a lack of that particular tendency.

  For example, there is a spot behind the left ear that supposedly corresponds with a person’s innate courage. There are other areas for reasoning ability, dexterity, and perseverance. Then things get a little more bizarre as one explores the cranial peaks and valleys that denote “Hope for the Future,” “Parental Love,” “Spiritual Faith,” “Worship,” “Mirth
fulness,” “Desire for Liquids,” “Patriotism,” and “Philanthropy.” Gall also believed there were brain organs and bumps for murder and theft. Some employers even required that job applicants have their heads examined by a specialist to ensure that they were honest, hardworking people.

  While Gall called his discovery “organology,” it became widely known as phrenology, meaning study of the mind. Phrenology was very popular in England in the 1820s-40s, and spread throughout the United States. Many texts were written, charts were drawn, and people paid good money to have their heads read by expert phrenologists.

  There was just one little problem—it was all nonsense. Critics, of which there were many, termed the pseudoscience “Bumpology,” and pointed out its many flaws. For example, if an individual had a prominent bump on the spot that indicated fidelity in marriage, but constantly cheated on his wife, phrenologists explained it away by claiming other organs of the brain had negatively influenced that part of the marriage organ.

  But wait, if size didn’t matter after all, didn’t that completely negate the very foundation of phrenology? In fact, it did, but no one bothered to mention it. Phrenology continued to thrive and continued to attract suckers, including some very prominent suckers.

  “I never knew I had an inventive talent until Phrenology told me so. I was a stranger to myself until then!” said Thomas Edison, perhaps the greatest inventor of all time. (Perhaps it’s a good thing someone felt the bumps on his head or we might all still be sitting in the dark.)

  One of the primary reasons that phrenology continued to prosper for so long is that there was a lot of money to be made “reading” the skulls of the gullible. Even as late as 1934, visitors to the Century of Progress Exposition in Chicago shelled out a total of over $200,000 to have their coconuts analyzed by the “psychograph,” a semi-circular cage of measuring devices that fit over the head and printed out a complete laundry list of your virtues and vices.

  Today, one only needs to search the Internet to see that phrenology is still alive and kicking. One site that staunchly defends it, even plainly states that scientific criticisms are nothing but “crap.” The author of that statement might want to check the “Combativeness” bump in the “Defense” region of his skull, not to mention the various peaks and valleys of stupidity, common sense, and the ability to extract one’s head out of one’s rear end. (Okay, I made up some of those, but it did make my “Wit” bump tingle...)

  In all fairness, Gall and his subsequent followers did get some things right. There are indeed localized functions in the brain, and areas that are used extensively can grow larger. However, none of that has anything to do with your pate’s protuberances.

  The road to knowledge and truth has always been rocky, but in the unfortunate case of phrenology, there’s no reason to make that road any bumpier.

  “I am tired of all this sort of thing called science here... We have spent millions in that sort of thing for the last few years, and it is time it should be stopped.”

  Simon Cameron, U.S. Senator, speaking about the Smithsonian Institution, 1901

  William Harvey

  Many of the things we take for granted today were once taboo, and many of our most basic concepts were considered to be dangerous subjects that could cost you your career, or your life. Even though we have seen this resistance to new ideas century after century, it seems absurd to think that something as fundamental as the beat of a heart could have stirred up such a storm of controversy.

  The first half of the 1600s wasn’t the safest time in history to propose original ideas. Men of science in Catholic Europe were being threatened, tortured, and burned at the stake for trying to disrupt the old school of thought with new theories based upon observations and experiments. In other words, they were in peril simply because they were being good scientists.

  So it was with some trepidation, and twelve long years of deliberation, that Englishman William Harvey finally published his theories on the heart and blood. In 1628, he presented the little 72-page book with the big name: Exercitatio Anatomica de Motu Cordis et Sanguinis in Animalibus (An Anatomical Exercise on the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Living Beings). (To cut down on fatigue we shall henceforth refer to it as “Harvey’s book.”)

  And what was in Harvey’s book that caused such a ruckus? Here’s the monumental, earth-shattering revelation: The heart pumps the blood that circulates through the body.

  No, really, that’s it. Harvey said that the heart is a pump and blood circulates through the veins and arteries. That was it in a nutshell. Doesn’t sound like anything to get upset about, right?

  Wrong! For over twenty years after Harvey’s book was published, he endured scathing criticism, with some “learned” men going so far as to declare that his theories violated the very laws of God and nature.

  No, really. People were quite upset by the idea of the heart pumping circulating blood.

  The reason they were so upset was that over 1400 years earlier the legendary Greek physician Galen had written that blood was created in the liver, went one way through the veins out to the edges of the body where it just disappeared. According to his theory, blood was essentially disposable—use it once and throw it away. And the heart was not a pump, it was the seat of a spiritual force. And arteries were not meant to carry blood, they were designed to transport air and this mystical spirit.

  Galen became so revered over the centuries that his work was taken as gospel. And anyone who challenged Galen was a fool and a heretic. If you conducted experiments that produced evidence that went against Galen, it could only mean one thing—your experiment was faulty and your conclusions were wrong. (And you were a fool and a heretic.)

  Why people who are supposedly educated have such a hard time thinking for themselves I’ll never know, but poor William Harvey courageously continued to try to demonstrate that he was right. Of course, he was missing one very big piece of the puzzle—or one very tiny, microscopic piece, to be more exact—capillaries, those smallest of vessels that act as conduits between the arteries and veins. Even though Harvey was certain that blood circulated, he couldn’t explain how it bridged that gap.

  An illustration from Harvey’s book. Note the importance of the researcher’s wrist having the proper lace cuff.

  Yet, there was plenty of other evidence, including a very simple calculation. By measuring the capacity of the left ventricle—the chamber that was the last stop for blood in the heart before it headed out into the body—and multiplying that number by how many times the heart beats, Harvey determined that if new blood was constantly being produced as Galenists believed, the body would conservatively have to make 65 quarts of blood every hour! That’s 1,560 quarts a day, or 569,400 quarts every year. Critics countered by asserting that since the heart wasn’t a pump, Harvey’s calculations were meaningless.

  If your blood isn’t boiling by this point, consider this—Harvey was still taking flak over twenty years after the publication of his book, even though many physicians had finally understood the truth. In a historic show of restraint, Harvey waited until 1649 to respond in writing to his steadfastly ignorant critics. Fortunately, he was comfortably confident in his results and had attained enough recognition for his achievements that he was able to rise above those critics and feel satisfied with his life’s work.

  Still, William Harvey died in 1657 not knowing the missing piece to his circulatory puzzle. He had survived to the ripe old age of 79, but had he made it to 83, he would have had his answer—and complete vindication.

  In 1661, Italian physician Marcello Malpighi was studying the lungs of a frog with a microscope, and was the first man to observe capillaries. Here was the missing link, the fine network of tiny vessels that cemented the connection between the heart, arteries, veins, and the considerably less than 65 quarts of blood that circulated through our bodies.

  It’s a shame that Harvey didn’t live to see through Malpighi’s microscope, but it warms my heart to imagine that somehow
Harvey was looking over his colleague’s shoulder at that moment of discovery…

  Spanish physician Michael Servetus (born 1511) was a highly educated man who also studied astronomy, meteorology, geography, anatomy, and pharmacology. Servetus might have been credited with the discovery of circulation, had his books been more widely known. The problem was, he was considered a heretic because of his anti-trinity beliefs, so Servetus and all but three copies of his books were burned in 1553. (In a thoughtful gesture by his executioners in Geneva, one of Servetus’ books was chained to his leg when he was burned at the stake.)

  “The abdomen, the chest, and the brain will forever be shut from the intrusion of the wise and humane surgeon.”

  Sir John Eric Ericksen, Surgeon Extraordinary to Queen Victoria, 1873

  “The abolishment of pain in surgery is a chimera. It is absurd to go on seeking it...knife and pain are two words in surgery that must forever be associated in the consciousness of the patient.”

  Dr. Alfred Velpeau, French surgeon, 1839

  Keep them From Harm…

  For centuries, physicians have sworn the Hippocratic Oath. The oath speaks to the nobility of the profession and the integrity under which one must conduct oneself at all times. And it clearly states that a doctor’s primary obligation to his patients is to “keep them from harm and injustice.” While it can be argued that everything is open to some interpretation, in this case, murder might be stretching the envelope a wee bit too far.

  In the early 1800s, students flocked to the medical school in Edinburgh, Scotland. Anatomy was all the rage, and one of the foremost anatomists was Dr. Robert Knox. It was not uncommon for Knox to have five hundred students per class, and each potential new doctor was thrilled to explore the secrets of the human body with such a renowned expert. Unfortunately, Dr. Knox had quite a few secrets where bodies were concerned…