Lifting lid on fiery cauldron of homeopathy

FOR THE RECORD - Column
Of all the things I ever thought I'd take an interest in, homeopathy was not one of them.
Homeopathy never struck me as a topic to inflame people's passions.
Riots aren't started over homeopathy. Neither are petitions.
You don't see people donning black T-shirts and marching on Parliament, chanting as they go, because of homeopathy.
I'd imagine homeopathy would occasionally turn up in the later rounds of the occasional school spelling bee, but that's probably about it.
But in Tauranga at least, homeopathy this week received a rather large boost to its profile, ironically, from one of its staunchest critics.
Professor Shaun Holt, a local medical researcher, issued a media statement putting the boot into homeopaths for allegedly targetting victims of the Canterbury earthquake.
His main weapon was a large, bold font, which screamed "Shameless homeopaths preying on earthquake victims".
Preying? I was struck with an image of homeopaths, cardigan-clad and smelling of incense, lurking in the rubble of a demolished building, hissing in a threatening manner and looking to peddle their wares to distraught earthquake victims.
Of course, that's an entirely unfair stereotype. I doubt homeopaths hiss.
Letters flooded in, including from one writer who was particularly upset at Professor Holt supporting a comparison which described homeopathy as witchcraft. The reason this person was so upset? Apparently, they're a real-life witch.
Were I Professor Holt, I'd be keeping an eye on the skies for the next few days.
I've always struggled with the concept of homeopathy.
I need to confess that my research is not the best, but so far as I can tell (or at least, as far as the internet can tell me), homeopathy appears to involve preparations which cause certain symptoms in healthy people, being given in diluted form to patients already experiencing those same (or similar) symptoms.
Remedies are prepared through something called serial dilution, shaking the mixture by forceful striking after each dilution, with an assumption that this increases the effect.
Dilution often continues until none of the original substance remains.
I have no idea how this can possibly work, but I do think homeopathy would be great for diet programmes - it takes the concept of "less is more" to a whole new level.
In my quest for the truth about homeopathy, I turned to the New Zealand Council of Homeopaths website - surely they could help me?
The council describes homeopathy as "essentially a natural healing process, providing remedies to assist the patient to regain health by stimulating the body's natural healing forces. It concentrates on healing the patient, rather than the disease."
Right. So the disease isn't the problem, the person is?
Desperate for answers, I tried abchomeopathy.com.
The website has a fascinating list of homeopathic remedies, among them sulphur, phosphorous and, of all things, petroleum.
I hope the petroleum comes in an unleaded variety. Then I could cure my annoying migraine problem and then fill up my car.
Sadly, the one thing I couldn't find a cure for was extreme cynicism.
You may not have guessed, but this whole column lark isn't actually new to me.
I wrote one for two years in a previous life at another newspaper.
One of the best parts of that experience was getting feedback, and the same holds true today.
Praise, inevitable abuse and free samples of homeopathic products can be sent to reon.suddaby@bayofplentytimes. co.nz or the usual mailing address, thanks.
Speaking of thanks, I'd like to thank the kind Tauranga mayoral candidate who offered to take me out to lunch in the wake of last week's column, as well as another reader who perhaps wasn't so keen on the piece, and suggested I might like to start wearing a tutu.
Sadly I can't take up either suggestion, one to avoid an issue with professionalism, the other to avoid an issue with fashion.
Reon Suddaby is the Bay of Plenty Times chief reporter and is writing a column while Tom Scott is on leave.