water powers really have a memory?

The news that the number of prescriptions for homeopathic medicines written by GPs in England has nearly halved in just two years coincides with the 20th anniversary of a seminal scientific paper on the subject.

Twenty years ago, in the summer of 1988, the science world was rocked by one of the most controversial research papers ever published in the highly-respected journal Nature.

According to a charismatic French scientist named Jacques Benveniste, pure water could somehow remember what it had previously contained.

Benveniste had started with a substance that caused an allergic reaction, he diluted it over and over again until there was nothing left except water, and then he observed that the pure water still managed to trigger an allergic reaction when it was added to living cells.

If the experiment was correct then it would mean rewriting the laws of physics and chemistry.


Moreover, the research would have a major impact on the credibility of homeopathy, because it is a form of alternative medicine that relies on remedies made by diluting the key curative ingredient over and over again until that ingredient has disappeared.

Even Benveniste was shocked by the implications of his own work.

"It was like shaking your car keys in the Seine at Paris and then discovering that water taken from the mouth of the river would start your car!"

Supernatural powers

John Maddox, editor of Nature, realised that Benveniste's research would be controversial, so it was accompanied by a disclaimer similar to one that had been run when he published research about Uri Geller's supposed supernatural powers.

It said: "Editorial reservation: Readers of this article may share the incredulity of the many referees ... Nature has therefore arranged for independent investigators to observe repetitions of the experiments."

The investigation team was led by Maddox himself, and he was joined by chemist Walter Stewart and James Randi, a magician, who had a reputation for debunking extraordinary claims.

Homeopathy is still not understood, however his efforts started a new era of rigorous scientific investigation of the field

Alex Tournier, of the Homeopathy Research Institute

Unfortunately for Benveniste, the investigators soon discovered that the results in his laboratory were unreliable.

The three of them went on to publish a report explaining how Benveniste's assistants were being subconsciously selective in the way that they interpreted their data.

They said: "We believe that experimental data have been uncritically assessed and their imperfections inadequately reported."

Benvensiste gradually moved out of academia as a result of the Nature debacle, but right up to his death in 2004 he maintained that his research was valid and that he was being ignored by a blinkered scientific establishment.

Twenty years after his research was published, perhaps now is the ideal time to asses his long-term impact on the debate surrounding ultra-dilute solutions and homeopathy.

Was he an unrecognized genius who was ahead of his time or was he a deluded scientist who failed to see that his research deeply flawed?

First of all, it is worth noting that there have been many attempts to reproduce Benveniste's experiments - occasionally there are positive results, but they are neither consistent nor convincing, and in any case these are countered by several negative results.

For example, the BBC science series Horizon attempted to test Benveniste's claims in 2002, and the conclusion was announced by Professor Martin Bland, of St George's Hospital Medical School.


He said: "There's absolutely no evidence at all to say that there is any difference between the solution that started off as pure water and the solution that started off with the histamine [an allergen]."


Phenomenon

Similarly, Benveniste started a spin-off company called DigiBio, which claimed that water could not only have a memory, but that this memory could be digitized, transmitted via email and reintroduced into another sample of water, which in turn could have an impact on living cells.


The US Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) tested DigiBio's claim and came to the following conclusion: "Our team found no replicable effects from digital signals."

Nevertheless, Benveniste's research continues to be very influential among many homeopaths, such as Alex Tournier, the founding director of the Homeopathy Research Institute.


He said: "Benveniste was a very inspiring and dedicated scientist, who at the very apogee of his career at the French National Institute for Health and Medical Research, was ready to put his reputation on the line to report a phenomenon he didn't understand: homeopathic dilutions.

"Homeopathy is still not understood, however his efforts started a new era of rigorous scientific investigation of the field."

Other homeopaths are convinced by Benveniste's idea of digital homeopathy and are even willing to sell such remedies over the internet.

Some might argue that, as there are over 200 clinical trials, but still no convincing evidence that homeopathy is effective for treating any condition, the idea that digitized homeopathy can help patients is fanciful.

But for $1,000 you could go online and buy yourself a digital homeopathy software kit and start treating yourself and others today.

Serious question marks remain over the Benveniste paper, but what is not in doubt is that its influence is still powerful and profound 20 years on.
Simon Singh is the co-author of 'Trick or Treatment? Alternative Medicine on Trial'.

Striking a balance with passion

Striking a balance with passion, poise
As student and teacher, Peabody woman sees life-changing lessons in tai chi
At first, it didn't take Lisa Kirshon 10 seconds before she started to fidget.

The local tai chi masters were telling her to "change your consciousness."

Be the tree.

Your feet don't hold you up, they said, the earth holds you up.

Your head is touching the clouds.

"You have to think a little bit beyond your physical space," explained Kirshon, who lives in Peabody. "That idea of expansive energy dropping through the earth and lifting upward toward the heavens. And then you have this conduit, which is your spine. So life force flows through."

All you're supposed to do is stand.

Like a tree.

"There's no greed for results," she said.

No rush for instant gratification, just a search for a feeling"the million-dollar secret," she called it - and the thought that you're building a foundation for something greater.

"You feel that connection," she said. "You start to sense that you are a tree. It's hard to explain. It's such a personal experience. You have to experience it."

People thought she was a flake. She admitted as much.

The only reason Kirshon looked into tai chi was because of the herniated disk in her back. Acupuncture worked only so much. Aerobics was too stressful, and yoga didn't make much sense either. She took to tai chi, a "soft" martial arts technique often praised for its health and longevity benefits. She went to the Oriental Culture Institute in Danvers, learning under Rick Wong and Tom Tam, who had been studying the form for ages.

Despite what people thought, she could feel herself becoming sharper, healthier, more confident, and more interested in the art itself.

"I really became very passionate about this type of mind-body exercise and needed to understand," she said. "How am I getting better? What is it? What's changed?"

When Kirshon started the sessions, she was a "domestic engineer," 21st-century language for stay-at-home mom. But when she and her husband divorced, leaving her with their two daughters, she needed to make a living. She needed to make a new Lisa.

Tam had already shown his faith, allowing her to teach a few classes in tai chi.

She took courses to become certified in tai chi, health, and fitness, so that she could be fully compensated.

"The more I read, the more I researched, I became very passionate about this because I've been on the other side," she said. "I know what it's like to be in pain, to have your body control your mind when it should be the other way around."

Now 49, Kirshon is the fitness specialist at Brooksby Village, a retirement community in Peabody, where she passes on the same lessons she learned some 17 years ago. She's also taught tai chi at the North Shore Cancer Institute.

"I just want to inspire and educate and motivate people for my passion," she said.

Last month, the United States of America Wushu Kungfu Federation held its national championship and its third New England International Chinese Martial Arts Championships at Eastern Connecticut State University.

The crowd never rattled Kirshon.

She was a dancer as a young girl, and tai chi often reminded her of ballet.

"It teaches you poise," she said, comparing the two. "It teaches you focus. I drew on that experience."

She could still remember one huge performance with a full orchestra at the Hynes Center when she was a young girl. She just took her deep breaths and prepared for her ballet routine.

The orchestra played a jazz number instead.

By now, pressure, to Kirshon, was simply something you dealt with.

She trained for two months, squeezing in moments when she could - when she was brushing her teeth or at work when no one was looking. "Every day was a day of training," she said.

She returned to Massachusetts with five medals from national competition, taking gold in three events and silver in the others. "It's a very surreal experience. Sometimes I feel like, 'Wait a minute, I don't know how I got this.' "

When she thinks about it, though, she says she pictured it back when she was trying to be the tree.

She said she could see herself teaching, competing, becoming a different person.

"This is a whole new life," she said. "It's life-changing."

In a way, it's tree-like.

"Twenty years of training," she said. "Then you really identify with that."

Why Musicians Make Us Weep And Computers Don't

Music can soothe the savage breast much better if played by musicians rather than clever computers, according to a new University of Sussex-led study.
Neuroscientists looked at the brain's response to piano sonatas played either by a computer or a musician and found that, while the computerised music elicited an emotional response -- particularly to unexpected chord changes - it was not as strong as listening to the same piece played by a professional pianist.

Senior research fellow in psychology Dr Stefan Koelsch, who carried out the study with colleagues at the Max Planck Institute for Human Cognitive and Brain Sciences in Leipzig, played excerpts from classical piano sonatas to twenty non-musicians and recorded electric brain responses and skin conductance responses (which vary with sweat production as a result of an emotional response).

Although the participants did not play instruments and considered themselves unmusical, their brains showed clear electric activity in response to musical changes (unexpected chords and changes in tonal key), which indicated that the brain was understanding the "musical grammar". This response was enhanced, however, when the sonatas were played by musicians rather than a computer.

Dr Koelsch said: "It was interesting for us that the emotional reactions to the unexpected chords were stronger when played with musical expression. This shows us how musicians can enhance the emotional response to particular chords due to their performance, and it shows us how our brains react to the performance of other individuals."

The study also revealed that the brain was more likely to look for musical meaning when the music was played by a pianist.

"This is similar to the response we see when the brain is responding to language and working out what the words mean," says Dr Koelsch. "Our results suggest that musicians actually tell us something when they play The brain responses show that when a pianist plays a piece with emotional expression, the piece is actually perceived as meaningful by listeners, even if they have not received any formal musical training."