You know it's woo when....

....even the naturopaths agree that it's useless (more or less).

The CBC reports on a British study that confirms what we pretty much already knew: that strapping little magnets to your wrist (or sticking them in your shoes) doesn't relieve pain. They don't improve blood flow, or align your cells, or anything like that. They just sit there and....do nothing. Apparently, a lot of these "therapeutic" magnets aren't even as strong as the ones that stick witty sayings and kids' artwork to your fridge door.

But really, this should be old news -- and in fact it is old news. Almost five years ago, the CBC reported on a study by the Mayo clinic which concluded -- guess what? -- magnetic bracelets don't relieve pain. Unfortunately, both these articles fall too much into the journalistic fallacy of binary objectivity -- reporting "both sides" as if there were a legitimate controversy. It falls to the CBC's Marketplace -- almost eight years back -- to give something approaching an unequivocal debunking of the quackery. So why are we still seeing reports on studies that take this sort of thing seriously?

But I have to love the language it is reported in (emphasis mine):

"There is no definite grounds of being absolutely sure that a magnet works or not," lead author Dr. Max Pittler, a complementary medicine specialist, said Monday....Pittler acknowledged, however, that the findings also mean that magnets could work — but the clinical trials weren't able to prove that.

That's a mighty slim straw Dr. Pittler is grasping at there: "There's no evidence it works, but we can't prove beyond a shadow of a smidgen of a whisper of a doubt that they don't". Well of course not, lunkhead -- go read up on the difficulty of proving a negative. I don't know what the title "complementary medicine specialist" signifies in his case, but I can't help wondering if it has something to do with the good doctor's odd reluctance to say forthrightly what this study merely confirms: magnet therapy is a load of bollocks.

C'mon Dr. Max, you can do it.

The article gives the last word to Toronto naturopath Kieran Cooley, who recommends acupuncture and mild exercise over magnets. But even he can't just come out and say a definitive "bollocks":

"There are clearly some people [in the British analysis] who are benefiting from the therapy. There are other people who are not benefiting very much and a few people who seem to be getting worse."

Um, as someone who has suffered from sporadic bouts of back pain for decades, I know that getting better, getting worse or staying the same is exactly what the condition does even if you do nothing. Which is exactly what the magnets are doing, right?

However, Cooley's mention of acupuncture is interesting, because another recent study reports that acupuncture works better than conventional therapies, such as analgesics, physiotherapy and exercise. One significant aspect of that study is that the acupuncture group was divided in two: one received real acupuncture, according to the traditional method of sticking needles into specific points held to control the flow of qi while the other patients got sham acupunture, in which the needle pokes specifically avoided all the "correct" acupuncture points. The result: there was no significant difference between the real and sham acupuncture cohorts, though both did better than the conventional therapy group.

This would seem to mean that:

1. The whole theory of qi is wrong -- there are no "meridians" of the stuff running up and down the body, influencing our health.
2. Sticking needles in the skin may nonetheless have some effect -- maybe stimulating the release of hormones? -- that is as good or better than the usual therapies.

Or maybe not. Orac takes apart the study, and points out a number of methodological problems that compromise that second conclusion (but go read it for yourself).

Would you like a little woo in your tea?

Stooging around Superior, Wisconsin on a cloudy rain-spittin' day, we stop in at a little book/coffee shop for our afternoon cuppa. The tea was good -- hot, in a little personal pot -- and we even stocked up on a favorite brand not available in Ottawa.

Having finished my tea, I began my mandatory perusal of the bookshelves (hey, there are way worse OCDs to have). As usual, I looked for the Science and/or Philosophy sections.

The closest they had was a "Spirituality" shelf, hawking among other authors and titles: newage guru Deepak Chopra, demonstrated psychic fraud Sylvia Browne, and The Secret. On the plus side (albeit bizarrely classified) was Forty Days And Forty Nights, Matthew Chapman's account of the Kitzmiller Intelligent Design trial. But altogether, a wee bit disappointing.

Also on the plus side, they had an anti-censorship display of books which have been banned, somewhere, sometime; appropriately wrapped in chains or enclosed in little jail cells.

God has a horrible plan for your life

My last 10-15 years as a Christian were increasingly liberal (I would probably have been best described as universalist Christian agnostic), and even in my more evangelical days, I was never big on the idea of damnation, hellfire and brimstone, preferring the seemingly more benevolent idea of Hell as separation from god for those who would rather not be with god anyway.

But, on my recent travels across the northern midwest US, I had a couple of encounters that reminded me of the enormity of the horrors that fundagelicals believe are in store for those who live without Jesus (not to mention the glee with which many of them consider and recount said horrors).

My first encounter was with a religious radio station that I came across while searching for a weather report. The news got progressively more Christian-slanted as we listened. Alas, it was not followed by any weather forecasts, but next came a sermon, titled: "God has a Horrible Plan for your Life". In spite of myself, I decided to listen for a bit. OK, so God has a horrible plan for my life, *UNLESS* I have decided to devote myself to God, so I can be saved and then God will plan good things for me. BUT, how do I know if I have, in fact, been saved? Well, of course, I am not saved by anything that I do, but by my faith, but I only know if I really am properly faithful by checking what I do against various proclamations in the bible. OK, been there, done that. I apparently don't have the right kind of faith, so I guess I get the horrible plan - time to turn off the radio and go off in search of a laundromat in town anyway.


So there we were at the laundromat in L'Anse, Michigan. And on the bulletin board at the front was the second encounter - a large poster inviting one and all to "A Dramatized Real Life Presentation You'll Never Forget": Heaven's Gates and Hell's Flames". This appears to be a production syndicated to local churches, which is designed to put the fear of eternal damnation into the audience by dramatizing cases of individuals getting sent to hell because their names were not "written in the book of life". (For an example, see http://www.mze.com/heavensgates/video.html, though I recommend extreme caution for anyone with casein allergies.)

All of which makes me think about cognitive dissonance, which we recently discussed at our local godless book club meeting. Surely the idea of a loving God sending people to hell must be one of the prime sources of cognitive dissonance for Christians (right up there with the existence of so many non-Christian religions, or even not-the-right-kind-of-Christian religions). But apparently, a little (or even a lot of) cognitive dissonance doesn't dissuade anyone from anything. On the contrary, from what I have been reading, a *little* cognitive dissonance can actually encourage people to more firmly internalize ideas and principles. Hmm - maybe if we rationalists find a way to be a bit less rational, it would make rationalism more believable?!

A Tourist's Guide to Deepest Darkest Morris

Morris, Minnesota: a sleepy (and seemingly typical) little prairie town -- a row of grain elevators by the train tracks, a one-screen cinema that has seen better days, a brick-front main street featuring a coffee shop, hardware and farm implement dealer, the town hall, etc. But reliable intelligence told us that this little town is harboring a secret, that it is the source of a baneful emanation that spreads far beyond its borders. It was to search out the source of this influence that we journeyed across fifteen hundred miles of blazingly hot asphalt, enduring moderate (by Canadian standards) gas prices, polite American customs agents, occasional mosquitoes, and filthy toilets in cheap campgrounds.

Our initial survey of the territory raised more questions than it answered: What is the meaning of "Biomass Conversion Facility"? This structure on the hill -- is it just a wind turbine? Or a cover for some more sinister purpose? What is the bone-chilling, teeth-gritting sound that emanates from the local cemetery at hourly intervals?






Why are there train tracks -- but never any trains? And why is the name of local "Potato Park" given in French?




The first stop on our quest was this little coffee shop -- ostensibly run by a church, yet we had heard rumours of less holy goings-on. While we sipped our afternoon tea (BTW: what is it with American coffee shops and tea? Coffee may only require 180 degrees Funnyheit, but good tea requires boiling water. But I digress.) Theo found our first positive lead -- the signs of a shadowy local cabal known as the Pharyngulista.












Indications were that the conspiracy centered on the science building at the local university. A search of the building led us to this locked door. There was (apparently) no one inside, but the posted pictures tell a tale -- in each one, the same man appears, in company with certain other individuals already known to us. We set out again to search the area for the mysterious individual known only by the code letters "PZ" -- the leader of the Pharyngulists!

A few minutes later, we spotted our quarry: the man in the pictures! Cautiously we approached, bearing what we hoped was a suitable tribute -- a libation prepared in an exotic land (Quebec), where they speak a language known only to the natives, bearing symbols indicating our sympathy with his cause. The cold, haughty eye (ie. the one not covered by the eye-patch) regarded us for a moment, then softened as he examined the bottles. "Your offering is acceptable. Come, you will dine with me".

Dinner conversation ranged from the weather to the quickest path to world domination. "Pinker gives too much credence to evolutionary psychology", PZ intoned, pulling a mewing kitten from a basket and biting its head off. "Oh don't worry", he said, noting my expression "These are rejects from the Biomass Project -- the fur clogged the piping, so we had to switch to a less hairy mammal". "You mean like naked mole rats, or porpoises?" I asked, wondering a bit anxiously which non-hairy mammal they were using. "No", replied PZ, "Porpoises have too much body fat, and the process works best with something around 60 kilograms. Frosh, for example, have proven quite suitable....By the way, is there something wrong with your dinner? You've barely touched it. This restaurant is usually excellent, but if the kitchen is slipping I shall have to order the chef".

"Um, order the chef to do what?" I inquired nervously.
"No, not to *do* anything" he said "I'll just order the chef. In a light wine sauce, I think"
I quickly assured him that the pasta was excellent, but pleaded a mild stomach upset brought on by enduring too many Culver's frozen custards along our journey through the Midwest (It was research, OK? I had to test all the flavours.)

After dinner, we were conducted into PZ's inner sanctum, where he permitted his likeness to be recorded, seated on the Octopus Throne.
There we were introduced to the famed Trophy Wife, and served a lovely cup of tea at just the right temperature. Somewhat later, we took our leave - it would be an evening we would not soon forget.

Woo far and near

Princess Martha Louise of Norway believes she can read people's feelings and talk to angels. She has also opened the "Astarte Education Centre" (page is in Norwegian and I can't find an online translator) to promote alternative therapies. Fortunately for Norway, she's only fourth in line to the throne. At least she's not the heir apparent, unlike a certain well-known New-Ager and alt-med fan who is first in line to become titular Head of State of my country.

It's enough to make one become an anti-monarchist - until I look south and realize that electing one's HoS doesn't necessarily provide much quality assurance.

Much closer to home: a couple in Quebec are refusing chemotherapy for their 3yo son who has cancer of the brain and bone marrow, opting instead to feed him organic vegetables. Organic veggies are great (provided you understand the nutritional values -- like having beans with your cereal to complete the protein), but they're not a substitute for chemo. Regular readers of Respectful Insolence have seen Orac take on cancer alt-therapy woo before (specifically the Cherrix and Wernecke cases). I can almost see his lights blinking in medical indignation from here.....

Technorati picks up a link to the story from Be Lambic or Green (which appears to be written by a British ex-pat currently living in Montreal). What I find noteworthy is the very first comment -- posted a mere two hours after the original post -- making the predictable accusation that the blogger is a doctor in the pay of Big Pharma (a few mouse-clicks would have revealed that he is, in fact, a computer guy).

I'm jealous, though -- what do I have to do to attract some good cranks? That's what this blog really needs!

Sheesh, what more do you want?

The busses here are now carrying these ads for the Alpha Course. The poster bears the picture[1] at left, with the caption "Is there more to life than this?".

My initial reaction is: "Sheesh, what more do you want?" There can't be many feelings to compare with climbing a mountain, and being rewarded with a view like that. And if you get tired of climbing literal mountains, there are plenty of figurative ones left: like learning about how the universe works, or understanding the great ideas of human thought, or solving world hunger, or...... anyways, seems like there's already plenty of "life" out there, for those who want it.

Of course, the Alpha group's answer would be "Yes: our religion". Obviously, 50yo atheists who've been there and done that aren't really the target demographic. But when I was 16 and naive, this sort of message appealed to me. I think there is a wide-spread desire for what is vaguely termed "the meaning of life" -- some sort of larger context to interpret one's experience; a desire to understand one's place in the universe.

Well hey, Alpha Course guys: I tried it your way for quite a few years, and I eventually figured out a couple of things. One is that the "meaning of your life" is what you make it to be -- no one is going to hand it to you, carved on stone tablets or written in an old book. And the other is that when it comes to finding your place in the cosmos, science and reason beat all the other ways hands down.

So personally, I've found that living in reality is plenty satisfying.

[1] Still captured from the video at alphacanada.org, who own the copyright. As far as I'm concerned this is fair use for commentary purposes.

I think they're looking for his head

I shouldn't stoop this low, but really the possibilities are too good to pass up. From the BBC:
President George W Bush is to have a 'routine colonoscopy' on Saturday. More soon.

I've had one of these procedures (being of a Certain Age). They pump several stiff drinks' worth of sedative into you -- you're awake but "feeling no pain", as they say. And you're not allowed to drive or run machinery for 24 hours after.

Hmm....didn't say anything about running a country. I wonder if we'll notice any difference?

Contest time: In comments, give your one-line reaction to that headline (mine is in the Title).
Prize for the funniest one: I'll buy you a drink next time we're in the same venue. (Astute readers will note that I can avoid paying out simply by picking a winner in, like, Australia or something).
(And now I'll find out who really reads this blog)