Flu Symptoms? Try Duck
Why sales of homeopathic products are soaring today
Somewhere near Lyon, France, sometime this year, officials from the French pharmaceutical firm Boiron will slaughter a solitary duck and extract its heart and liver--not to appease the gods but to fight the flu. The organs will be used to make an over-the-counter flu medicine, called Oscillococcinum, that will be sold around the world. In a monetary sense, this single French duck may be the most valuable animal on the planet, as an extract of its heart and liver form the sole "active ingredient" in a flu remedy that is expected to generate sales of $20 million or more. (For duck parts, that easily beats out foie gras in terms of return on investment.)
How can Boiron claim that one duck will benefit so many sick people? Because Oscillococcinum is a homeopathic remedy, meaning that its active ingredients are so diluted that they are virtually nonexistent in the final preparation. In every gram of the medication, according to the list of ingredients on the package, there are 0.85 grams of sucrose and 0.15 grams of lactose. For those without a chemistry degree, that means that Oscillococcinum is 100 percent sugar.
As with other homeopathic drugs, Oscillococcinum has been subjected to little outside scientific testing of its effectiveness in fighting flu symptoms. Yet it can be found in many U.S. pharmacies alongside conventional cold and flu medicines, remedies that have had to undergo testing by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration. Partly because many drug chains now display homeopathic medicines next to conventional remedies, and partly because many homeopathic drug makers are now packaging their products to look like other cold, flu, and sinus remedies, homeopathic products are booming. Sales have grown about 20 percent a year during the past few years, reaching roughly $200 million in 1995.
Hands off. It is this placement and marketing of homeopathic products that has critics up in arms. "The rationale is [the FDA] doesn't want to waste its regulatory energy on products that don't hurt people directly," says Stephen Barrett, a psychiatrist who has petitioned the FDA to hold homeopathic products to the same standard as other drugs. "But what's going on is fraud."
For homeopathic drug makers, such disrespect comes with the territory. Homeopathy is a 200-year-old therapy in which medications are formulated by what's known as the "law of infinitesimals," meaning that the smaller the dose, the more potent the cure. The theory is that minute doses of a substance will boost the body's immune system; the curative powers are said to come from the ability to induce symptoms in a healthy person that are similar to those produced by the illness, thus counteracting it. Promoters liken the effect to that of a vaccine. In the case of Oscillococcinum, the heart and liver of the duck naturally contain flu virus antibodies.
But the extreme dilution of the active ingredients in homeopathic medicines may seem absurd to nonbelievers. Most remedies are diluted down to "30X," or a strength of 1/10 multiplied by itself 30 times. That means one drop of the active substance is diluted in nine drops of alcohol or water; then a drop of the new solution is further diluted by nine drops, and so on, 30 times. It has been estimated that a 30X dilution is the equivalent of one drop in a container more than 50 times the size of thearth.
The dilution of Oscillococcinum goes further still: "200C," with a potency equal to 1/100 multiplied by 1/100 200 times. Robert Park, a University of Maryland physicist, figures the odds of a consumer actually getting even a single molecule of duck heart or liver in Oscillococcinum are less than those of getting hit by an asteroid.
Homeopathic drug makers don't deny any of this. "Strength is a nonissue in homeopathic medicine," says Boiron spokeswoman Gina Casey. "Just because we can't detect the molecular activity doesn't mean it doesn't work." Several studies have shown that homeopathic medicines work better than a placebo. Each has been attacked by the medical establishment for being unscientific, mostly because control group guidelines were not properly adhered to.
Everyone's a critic. But homeopathic drug makers don't seem especially eager to fund any large-scale studies to gauge their products' effectiveness. "Some of our products have been used successfully for so long that an academic study would be of little use and could only be used by our critics," says Jay Borneman, a spokesman for the American Homeopathic Pharmaceutical Association.
As aging baby boomers embrace "all natural" alternatives to conventional drugs, sales of alternative remedies have soared, from about $2 billion in 1991 to $3.77 billion last year. But homeopathic products didn't keep up with the growth, and drug chains decided they didn't warrant space in the alternative medicine section. Their solution was to mix the homeopathic remedies in with other over-the-counter products. The result has been that consumers, perhaps seeing "All-Natural" in big letters and "Homeopathic Medicine" in smaller type, are buying homeopathic products as never before. "A customer looking for relief from a migraine headache isn't going to go looking in the vitamin section of the store," explains Ed Kane, a manager at Rite Aid Corp., which has 3,800 stores across the country.
The problem, say critics, is that most consumers don't have the faintest idea what homeopathy is. "[The homeopathic drug makers] are allowed to make very specific health claims with little regulation," says Charlotte Gyllenhaal, a professor in the College of Pharmacy at the University of Illinois--Chicago.
So where is the FDA in all of this? Because homeopathic medicines were grandfathered into the 1938 law that created the regulation of medicines, the FDA has little choice but to allow homeopathic medicines to be sold alongside more rigorously tested products. But that may not be as alarming as it sounds. While scientists may argue over the effectiveness of homeopathic products, no one thinks they can harm you. As Boiron's Casey explained when asked if a remedy made from the heart and liver of a duck was safe: "Of course it is safe. There's nothing in it."
CURE FOR COLDS? Prescription for controversy One of the hottest homeopathic products on the market today claims to do something that has long eluded medical researchers: cure the common cold. And while many scientists doubt the effectiveness of Cold-Eeze--a zinc lozenge that purports to cut the length of cold symptoms by almost half--the controversy surrounding the manufacturer has recently spilled over to Wall Street.
Cold-Eeze is made by Quigley Corp., a Pennsylvania-based company whose owner previously specialized in knock-off perfumes and health-food snacks. In 1992, its founder, Guy Quigley, signed a licensing deal with researchers who had patented a formula that suspended zinc in a lozenge. Medical researchers had long known of the effectiveness of zinc in fighting cold viruses; the problem had always been concocting a product that people can stand to eat. Cold-Eeze passes into the nasal cavity through the mouth and throat.
Sniffles. Quigley sought reputable medical research for his product. A study by the Cleveland Clinic Foundation found that Cold-Eeze shortened the duration of cold symptoms by 42 percent, and the results were published in a medical journal last summer.
The news sent Quigley stock soaring 6,000 percent. But researchers have since raised questions about the study; it has also come to light that the Cleveland Clinic doctor who conducted the study had invested in the company before releasing the results--and has since pocketed $144,000 in profits.
The company suffered a series of embarrassments, including a fake press release announcing that a key executive had resigned--when in fact he had stayed with the company. The stock nose-dived as a result. Some sources blame disreputable short-sellers for the misinformation, and Quigley has asked the Securities and Exchange Commission to investigate.
Despite the controversies, the company is plugging away. It has ramped up production to $1.5 million worth of the lozenges a week. Consumers can't seem to get enough of the product: In most pharmacies, Cold-Eeze sells out as soon as it hits the shelves.
This story appears in the February 17, 1997 print edition of U.S. News & World Report.