it was a “Finding of Fact.”
There was another force working against Joey Hofbauer in Judge Brown’s courtroom that day—a force far more powerful than clinicians like Michael Schachter or laetrile promoters like Ernest Krebs Jr. or ideologues like Robert Bradford. It was revealed during an exchange between the Hofbauers’ lawyer, Kirkpatrick Dilling, and Victor Herbert, a cancer specialist. Dilling was questioning Herbert about the value of bonemeal.
DILLING: Calcium, is that an essential nutrient?
HERBERT: Yes.
DILLING: Are you familiar with the fact that bonemeal is very high in calcium?
HERBERT: I’m familiar with the fact that bonemeal is a dangerous quack remedy because of its lead content and people have died from being given bonemeal instead of calcium properly in milk and milk products.
DILLING: Isn’t bonemeal widely available?
HERBERT: Certainly is, your organization pushes it.
Dilling froze. His organization? Herbert had revealed something that wasn’t evident to most in the courtroom that day—exactly who was paying for the Hofbauers’ defense. Recovering, Dilling went on the offensive. “I want to state for the record,” he said, “that I’m proud to represent the National Health Federation and I would appreciate it if the witness would keep his views to himself.”
The National Health Federation (NHF) is an organization that represents the financial interests of the alternative medicine industry. At the time of Joey’s trial, these therapies had become quite lucrative. Kirkpatrick Dilling was general counsel to the NHF. Against these powerful financial interests, Joey Hofbauer didn’t have a chance.
Michael Schachter was never held accountable for his treatment of Joey Hofbauer. On the contrary, since Joey’s death Schachter has thrived, directing the Schachter Center for Complementary Medicine, in Suffern, New York. In 2010, a promotional brochure claimed he “has successfully treated thousands of patients using orthomolecular psychiatry, nutritional medicine, chelation therapy for cardiovascular disease, and alternative cancer therapies.”
Joey Hofbauer’s story, while extreme, contains much of what attracts people to alternative therapies today: a heartfelt distrust of modern medicine (John and Mary Hofbauer didn’t believe the advice of hematologists and oncologists); the notion that large doses of vitamins mean better health (Joey was given massive doses of vitamin A, which was likely to have been to his detriment); the belief that natural products are safer than conventional therapies (the Hofbauers preferred laetrile, pancreatic enzymes, coffee enemas, and raw liver juice to radiation and chemotherapy); the lure of healers whose charisma masks their lack of expertise (Michael Schachter, a psychiatrist, convinced the Hofbauers he could cure their son, even though he had no expertise treating cancer); the power of celebrity endorsements (Steve McQueen was one of the most popular movie stars of his day); and, perhaps most of all, the unseen influence of a lucrative business (Kirkpatrick Dilling’s NHF, still active today, is one of many lobbying groups that have influenced Congress to offer special protections to the fourteen hundred companies that manufacture alternative remedies in the United States).
Rediscovering the Past: Mehmet Oz and His Superstars
Oh, no, my dear; I’m really a very good man, but I’m a very bad Wizard.
—The Wizard of Oz
Few celebrities are more recognizable than Oprah Winfrey. At the height of her syndicated talk show, which attracted more than 40 million viewers a week, Oprah launched the career of a man who would soon become America’s most recognized promoter of alternative medicine: Mehmet Oz, star of The Dr. Oz Show.
Like Winfrey’s, Oz’s show is also popular—more than 4 million people watch it every day. It’s not hard to figure out why. It’s the same reason that John and Mary Hofbauer were attracted to Michael Schachter, or Steve McQueen to William Kelley. Oz believes that modern medicine isn’t always to be trusted—that we should retreat to an age when healing was more natural, less cluttered with man-made technologies.
On the surface, Mehmet Oz would seem to be the last person to argue against modern medicine.
After graduating from Harvard University, the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine, and the Wharton School, Oz climbed the ranks at Columbia University Medical Center to become a full professor in cardiovascular surgery. He performs as many as 250 operations a year and has authored 400 medical papers and book chapters. Six of his books have been on the New York Times best-seller list. Oz was voted one of Time magazine’s 100 Most Influential People, the World Economic Forum’s Global Leader of Tomorrow, Harvard University’s 100 Most Influential Alumni, Esquire’s Best and Brightest, and Healthy Living’s Healer of the Millennium. He’s not just famous; he’s a brand (“America’s Doctor”).
Certainly, no one appreciates the advances of modern medicine more than Mehmet Oz. He’s a heart surgeon. He holds people’s hearts in his hands and fixes them. Oz couldn’t do this without anesthesia, antibiotics, sterile technique, and heart-lung machines. But there was one moment when it became clear that Mehmet Oz wasn’t a typical heart surgeon. During an operation, “Oz jumped up on a standing stool, peered into the patient’s chest, and said, ‘I knew we should have used subliminal tapes.’” Oz believed that surgery wasn’t enough—success also depended on tapping into his patient’s subconscious. Watching this scene was Jery Whitworth, a nurse who operated the heart-lung machine. Whitworth shared Oz’s love of alternative therapies. “After a few minutes we stopped,” recalled Whitworth, “because the operating room was totally quiet,” stunned into silence. Oz, Whitworth, and a group of believers later met secretly to discuss what would eventually become Columbia’s Cardiovascular Institute and Complementary Medicine Program. “If the higher-ups had known about these meetings,” recalled Whitworth, “they would have disbanded us.”
Oz has used his show to promote alternative therapies ranging from naturopathy, homeopathy, acupuncture, therapeutic touch, faith healing, and chiropractic manipulations to communicating with the dead. To understand where Mehmet Oz is coming from, we need to understand where medicine has been.
People have been living on earth for about 250,000 years. For the past 5,000, healers have been trying to heal the sick. For all but the past 200, they haven’t been very good at it.
First, people believed disease was a divine act. In Exodus, written around 1400 B.C., God, angry at the Egyptians for their mistreatment of the Hebrews, punishes them with ten plagues, including boils and lice. In Homer’s Iliad, written around 900 B.C., the god Apollo destroys the Achaean army with a disease ignited by a flaming arrow. In 2 Samuel, written around 500 B.C., God gives David a choice of three punishments for his pridefulness: seven years of famine, three months fleeing his enemies, or three days of plague. David chooses plague, and God obliges, killing 77,000 people. Because God or the gods caused disease, healers were shamans, witches, and priests, and treatments were prayer, amulets, and sacrifices.
Then, starting with the Greek healer Hippocrates in 400 B.C., the focus changed. No longer were diseases defined in supernatural terms; rather, they were caused by something inside the body—specifically, an imbalance of bodily fluids called humors. Hippocrates, the father of medicine, named these humors yellow bile, black bile, phlegm, and blood, likening them to four colors (yellow, black, white, and red), four elements (fire, earth, water, and air), four seasons (summer, autumn, winter, and spring), four organs (spleen, gall bladder, lungs, and liver), and four temperaments (choleric, melancholic, phlegmatic, and sanguine). Because diseases were caused by an imbalance of humors, treatments were designed to balance them, most prominently bloodletting, enemas, and emetics (drugs that induce vomiting). Malaria wasn’t caused by a parasite; it