Ben Goldacre of badscience.net writes about detox and cosmetics in Bad Science.
Like contemporary Matthews, the detox industry dedicates itself to warning us that we are whitened sepulchres: even those who appear beautiful outwardly are ‘full of uncleanness’. Plainly, it is the cosmetics industry that keeps us presentable and sweet-smelling and its products are the only thing that keeps us from retching in eachother’s presence.(a)
Corinna…
Takes off her artificial hair;
Now picking out a crystal eye,
She wipes it clean, and lays it by…
[She] must, before she goes to bed,
Rub off the daubs of white and red,
And smooth the furrows in her front
With greasy paper stuck upon’t…
[A Beautiful Young Nymph Going to Bed(b): Swift]
Skincare essentially boils down to keeping the skin clean, hydrated and free from sun-damage. There are basic products that achieve all of those but they would not support a large and thriving industry. So, the cosmetics industry sells an air-brushed dream of magic and transformation and they are successful for reasons denounced by saints and philosophers and outlined, more sympathetically, by commentators such as Naomi Wolf.(c)
Goldacre gives a lively account of the funambulists who write the advertising copy for an industry that uses science to sell its alchemy but is not allowed to include pharmaceutical amounts of active substances in its products.
Look closely at the label or advert…you are being played in an elaborate semantic game, with the complicity of the regulators…it’s rare to find an explicit claim, that rubbing this particular magic ingredient on your face will make you look better. Any claims are made for the cream as a whole, and it is true for the cream as a whole, because…all moisturising creams – even a cheap litre tub of Diprobase – will moisturise…
…The link between the magic ingredient and efficacy is made only in the customer’s mind, and reading through manufacturer’s claims, you can see they have been carefully reviewed by a small army of consultants to ensure that the label text is highly suggestive, but also…semantically watertight. [pp 25-6]
After all, relatively high levels of hydrogen peroxide or certain vitamins may irritate or burn your skin, which puts a whole new complexion on that “fresh, glowing feeling” (pg 25) they tell you about in the adverts. Copy writers eulogise the redemptive powers of fish DNA, and hint about stem cells. The rhetoric implies that it is plausible to become latter-day Elizabeth Báthorys: eternal youth through exposure to the building-blocks of life, but without the inconvenience of hunting down a dwindling supply of virgins or the notoriety of being a serial killer.
In an updated version of “greasy paper” to smooth out wrinkles, several celebrity doctors such as Dr Sebagh and Dr Brandt have captured their reassuringly expensive expertise in a pot. The Dr Brandt range is the brainchild of a feted dermatologist and ‘anti-ageing researcher’ who “helps patients sculpt the younger demeanor they seek with a variety of non-invasive procedures”. His products are marketed as non-invasive cosmetic surgery in a bottle; one example is the “laser in a bottle” series. Dr Brandt’s Crease Release relies upon the power of inhibitory neurotransmitters. The suggestion is that these relax your facial muscles and make the fine lines and wrinkles less apparent (although quite how neurotransmitters can act against gravity is unknown). Given the usual warnings about most products, it seems strange that the website doesn’t caution against using too much cream and over-dosing. Would it be possible to apply too much and discover that the face and neck muscles did not relax into a serene repose, but sag, and make it difficult to smile, talk or swallow but embarrassingly easy to drool? So, presumably, it is difficult to absorb pharmaceutical quantities of these neurotransmitters through the skin despite the reassuringly expensive price of £80 per pot and the press-ganging of neurology to enhance the plausibility.
Dr Sebagh describes himself as an aesthetic sculptor with overtones of cutting and reshaping but using gentler instruments.
Other doctors and companies offer a non-surgical solution to eye puffiness or bags: the long-term intervention in a pot is said to contain an inhibitor for angiotensin converting enzyme (ACE): e.g., Dr Mark’s Tighten and Lighten Eye Cream; Euko’s Eye Contour Lightening Gel. The distributors claim that these products are “combating the effect of tiredness and hypertension” but there is little evidence that only those with high blood pressure (and just how high and how do you measure blood pressure in the skin under the eyes?) develop eye puffiness. ACE inhibitors can restrict the production of ACE and thereby prevent the conversion of angiotensin I to angiotensin II but as this is usually discussed in terms of the interplay of the respiratory, cardiac and renal systems and how they maintain blood pressure, the direct relevance to the tissue around the eyes is not readily apparent.
Some recent products promise to rejuvenate and energise your skin with gold nanoparticles (eg, the Daily Mail praised Chantecaille Nano Energizing Cream). But these nanoparticles only become reactive with the sort of radiotherapy given during cancer treatments. In general, Dermatologists suggest that nanoparticles might be harmful and are best avoided in skin creams.
In December 2007, Which? reported the outcome of their investigation into cosmeceuticals, goods that are sold on their scientific credentials and implicit drug-like efficacy. They asked Olay to explain the anti-ageing mechanism of their much promoted pentapeptides; but Olay’s Customer Services were unable to provide a detailed answer. Further investigation revealed that the state of the art of science lags a long way behind the hype of the marketing material.
Goldacre deplores the harm that such misinformation and semantic football causes to the public understanding of science. However, his sole example that indicates that the impact of the cosmetics industry is “not entirely morally neutral” is that obese people and smokers are being offered “shortcuts…[to] a healthy body…attained by using expensive potions, rather than simple old fashioned exercise and eating your greens” [pg 26]. This seems to overlook the (perhaps over-sensational) surveys that report that A quarter of teens are considering plastic surgery.
This unhappiness with their appearance is holding a number of girls back in life. Nine out of 10 teachers believed it stopped them taking [part] in class activities.
The popularisation of cosmeceuticals has allowed the language of cosmetic surgery to be incorporated into the everyday language of cosmetics. It makes it easier to soften the difference between a botox-like effect and having botox or similar grooming procedures. Cosmetic surgery or aesthetic sculpturing seem less extreme and the default option if the longed-for effects of the cosmeceuticals do not manifest.
It may be difficult to quantify the wider harm of the bad science of the cosmetics industry because of the in-roads it has made into mainstream media and social life. However, if the financial instability continues and millions of people are unable to afford these interventions, then expect streets and public places to become deserted; it’s either that or an upswing in people wearing Buffs in biker style to cover the entire head, except for the eyes. Maybe that will be the next social dilemma – when to suggest that a friend should consider the Buff alternative; will it be good manners to proffer paper bags as well as tissues in the near future?
Notes
(a) Daily Mail on the sin of women appearing without make-up and failing to be ready for Mr De Mille’s close-up: Kate Garraway; Goldie Hawn; Anne Robinson. There are cattier articles that affect disgust at normal bodily variation or the 7 signs of ageing but these seemed like examples of the Daily Mail perspective.
(b) Corinna sounds like that unspoken subtext of articles or advertising that extols the transformative powers of cosmetic surgery.
Now dext’rously her plumpers draws,
That serve to fill her hollow jaws,
Untwists a wire, and from her gums
A set of teeth completely comes;
Pulls out the rags contrived to prop
Her flabby dugs, and down they drop.
Proceeding on, the lovely goddess
Unlaces next her steel-ribb’d bodice,
Which, by the operator’s skill,
Press down the lumps, the hollows fill.
(c) Naomi Wolf explores the propaganda absorbed by women in The Beauty Myth: How Images of Beauty Are Used Against Women: she details the heady mix of guilt, shame and social pressures that drive so much of the advertising for the cosmetics industry. The book is less satisfactory in explaining why societies collude in this when we are aware of the cost to individuals. (Distressingly, Wolf’s recent writing may have veered into intellectual unkemptness.)
However, since Wolf wrote the book, extreme makeover programmes have become routine on television schedules and newspapers regularly carry articles about cosmetic surgery or comment on the (alleged) surgery or procedures of celebrities. Even the author of Counterknowledge has seen fit to write a column outlining the modern dilemma of when it is appropriate to comment on a friend’s cosmetic surgery or to recommend it.
Related Reading
Tags: Bad Science, Ben Goldacre, cosmetics, counterknowledge, pseudoscience
