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Homeopathic remedies are often embraced by those wary (or weary) of conventional medicine

Homeopathic remedies are often embraced by those wary (or weary) of conventional medicine; some believers insist cures can be transmitted by radio

Prince Charles, most Britons decided in 1986, would never live down his confession in a TV interview that he talked to his tomato plants. It confirmed his reputation as a dotty, old-school eccentric and heightened the contrast between the heir apparent and his level-headed mother, who could be relied on for many things – not the least of which is to view tomatoes as good for one thing only, namely, eating.

So it was with particular shock a few weeks ago that I heard a Dr Peter Fisher being introduced as a guest on ABC Radio National’s Breakfast program. Fisher, presenter Fran Kelly revealed, is the personal homeopath of . . . the Queen! And if you’re not sure why that statement deserves an exclamation mark, let me expand.

Homeopathy is only slightly more advanced as a medical paradigm than belief in the “four humours”, which was all the rage in the Middle Ages. Admittedly, when homeopathy was invented in 1810, it would have seemed a distinct improvement on “treatments” of those days, such as that given to US revolutionary hero George Washington, who died in 1799 after five bouts of bleedings over 10 hours, which drained about 3.75 litres of blood – more than half his entire supply. All he had was a sore throat.

What is homeopathy? Not simple herbalism, that’s for sure. It’s based on the ancient Greek notion that “like cures like”, and asserts that particular symptoms can be cured by giving a substance that will induce similar symptoms in a healthy patient. Its inventor, German physician Samuel Hahnemann, wasn’t to know in 1810 that his theory contradicted various laws of physics.

Realising many of his “treatments” were poisonous in their raw state, he devised a system of repeated dilution to reduce their toxicity. Curiously, he insisted this process increased the treatments’ potency, which conflicts with the dose-response relationship seen with other conventional and alternative medicines.

Another problem is that Hahnemann’s solutions were so diluted that they often no longer contained a single molecule of the original substance. His favoured “30C” preparation involved mixing one drop of the active substance with 100 drops of water, and repeating that process 30 times. But it has since been calculated that if 30C solution did in fact contain just one quarter of a teaspoon of the original substance, you would need a cubic vessel with sides measuring 100 light years to hold it all. Homeopaths claim water has a “memory” and retains some characteristic of the substance that is no longer there. Science has disproved this notion, but the crackpots keep coming.

British doctor and quack-buster Ben Goldacre wrote in The Guardian newspaper last year that some homeopaths claimed remedies could be transmitted over the internet or in music. He quoted one who asserted that AIDS in Africa “could be significantly ameliorated by a simple tune played on the radio”.

It might be amusing to know what’s in the music at Buckingham Palace but it’s not hard to see why homeopathy is still around. A homeopathic medicine is akin to a magic potion – it offers hope that might be missing in a doctor’s room. And like many treatments, including conventional ones, homoeopathy benefits from a “placebo effect”. Give most people a pill or injection and, chances are, they will feel better. Studies often show significant improvement after homeopathic medicine. You have to look deeper to realise these improvements are no greater than the results obtained on dummy pills, as a 2005 review of homeopathy in The Lancet concluded.

There might be nothing much wrong with a harmless illusion, unless it’s displacing more effective treatments – and unless we have to pay for it. Which we do. The UK’s National Health Service runs five homeopathic hospitals; in Australia, most private health insurers pay benefits for treatments, which are underwritten by the 30 per cent government rebate.

In 2007–08, more than 3000 customers of Bupa Australia (MBF, HBA and Mutual Community) received $173,976.04 in benefits for 8540 homeopathy services. Other funds, such as HCF, paid benefits but prefer not to disclose the amount. Medibank Private doesn’t pay rebates but members who accrue bonus payments can use them for this purpose. I’d rather pay someone to talk to my tomatoes.
Adam Cresswell is The Australian newspaper’s health editor.