From Alzheimer’s to Zebrafish: Eclectic Science and Regulatory Stories 4
diagnosed by a wire on a patient a block away.” However, Abrams was not content with that
prognostication. He decided to design an even greater machine—one that could diagnose all
diseases and treat them as well. Abrams asked the proprietor of a small electrical shop in San
Francisco to fabricate his invention. When questioned about specifications, Abrams requested
a pendulum, a light and a few dials. When asked about function, Abrams replied, “Never
mind about that. Just be sure that everything works—and if you have any loose wires in the
machine, bury the ends in paraffin so they won’t show.”8 Thus was born the Oscilloclast.
Later, Abrams’ devices and theories became more sophisticated. In 1917, he published
a book modestly entitled The Electronic Reactions of Abrams, later shortened to The E.R.A.
The volume sold well. It disclosed the belief that the human body possessed rates of elec-
tronic vibration of sickness and health. It followed that the type, severity and location of
any disease could be determined by measuring the perturbed vibratory rates. These rates,
of course, could be measured by new instruments designed by Abrams.
For diagnosis, a drop of blood, preserved tissue, photograph or sample of the
patient’s handwriting was needed. Any of these items possessed the patient’s vibra-
tory rate.9 The diagnostic machinery consisted of a dynamizer, ground plates, a rheostat
dynamizer, a vibratory-rate rheostat, a strain-rate rheostat, a measuring rheostat and a
proximal electrode.10 A sample was placed in the dynamizer and passed through the vari-
ous machines to the proximal electrode connected to the forehead of a healthy subject or
“reagent.” The reagent, usually an employee of the laboratory, faced west, his feet resting
on the ground plates, his arms held out at the sides to prevent “shorting out.” A horse-
shoe magnet was first used to remove the reagent’s extraneous vibrations. The apparatus
was adjusted to various settings according to the disease. At each setting, Abrams or his
practitioner would percuss the reagent’s abdomen to determine “areas of dullness ” it
was a simple matter then to deduce the patient’s problem. Almost everyone who applied
for help was diagnosed to be suffering from cancer, syphilis, tuberculosis or streptococcic
infection. But even the patient with all four diseases need not despair since he could be
cured with a few sessions of the Oscilloclast and the payment of a modest fee.
Abrams and his remarkable claims took the world by storm, and the E.R.A. became
known throughout most of the civilized world.11 Drops of blood on blotters, accompanied
by checks for $10, poured in by the hundreds. Droves of people flocked to his home in San
Francisco to pay $200 to attend Abrams’ courses.
Finally, in March 1922, the AMA journal published the first of several articles on
Abrams’ preposterous theories and practices. Scientific American followed in September
1924 with a series of 12 papers investigating the E.R.A. A civil engineer, a specialist in
electricity and radio, a physician and a bacteriologist all concluded that the Oscilloclast
was barren of any therapeutic value—at best an illusion, and at worst, a colossal fraud.
Abrams died from pneumonia on 13 January 1924, while Scientific American was in the
midst of its investigation. He left an estate of over $2 million, a hard core of disciples and
an organization called the American Association for Medico-Physical Research.12 With the
death of its leader, electronic medicine quickly lost its momentum.
It was not long, however, until Gaylord Wilshire of Los Angeles announced his inven-
tion of the Ionaco to the press. This device was merely a coil of wire inside another coil.
The second coil was connected to house current, and a light also could be attached. The
patient was told that by placing the device around the neck and turning on the current, all
chronic disorders could be cured. A magnetic field was presumably created that controlled
all disease by magnetizing the iron in the blood. Gaylord Wilshire sold those devices
for $55 cash or $65 on time payments, and thousands of devices were sold. Shortly after
developing the device, Wilshire died from a disease of the kidney in a New York hospital,
no doubt without the benefit of his own invention.13
diagnosed by a wire on a patient a block away.” However, Abrams was not content with that
prognostication. He decided to design an even greater machine—one that could diagnose all
diseases and treat them as well. Abrams asked the proprietor of a small electrical shop in San
Francisco to fabricate his invention. When questioned about specifications, Abrams requested
a pendulum, a light and a few dials. When asked about function, Abrams replied, “Never
mind about that. Just be sure that everything works—and if you have any loose wires in the
machine, bury the ends in paraffin so they won’t show.”8 Thus was born the Oscilloclast.
Later, Abrams’ devices and theories became more sophisticated. In 1917, he published
a book modestly entitled The Electronic Reactions of Abrams, later shortened to The E.R.A.
The volume sold well. It disclosed the belief that the human body possessed rates of elec-
tronic vibration of sickness and health. It followed that the type, severity and location of
any disease could be determined by measuring the perturbed vibratory rates. These rates,
of course, could be measured by new instruments designed by Abrams.
For diagnosis, a drop of blood, preserved tissue, photograph or sample of the
patient’s handwriting was needed. Any of these items possessed the patient’s vibra-
tory rate.9 The diagnostic machinery consisted of a dynamizer, ground plates, a rheostat
dynamizer, a vibratory-rate rheostat, a strain-rate rheostat, a measuring rheostat and a
proximal electrode.10 A sample was placed in the dynamizer and passed through the vari-
ous machines to the proximal electrode connected to the forehead of a healthy subject or
“reagent.” The reagent, usually an employee of the laboratory, faced west, his feet resting
on the ground plates, his arms held out at the sides to prevent “shorting out.” A horse-
shoe magnet was first used to remove the reagent’s extraneous vibrations. The apparatus
was adjusted to various settings according to the disease. At each setting, Abrams or his
practitioner would percuss the reagent’s abdomen to determine “areas of dullness ” it
was a simple matter then to deduce the patient’s problem. Almost everyone who applied
for help was diagnosed to be suffering from cancer, syphilis, tuberculosis or streptococcic
infection. But even the patient with all four diseases need not despair since he could be
cured with a few sessions of the Oscilloclast and the payment of a modest fee.
Abrams and his remarkable claims took the world by storm, and the E.R.A. became
known throughout most of the civilized world.11 Drops of blood on blotters, accompanied
by checks for $10, poured in by the hundreds. Droves of people flocked to his home in San
Francisco to pay $200 to attend Abrams’ courses.
Finally, in March 1922, the AMA journal published the first of several articles on
Abrams’ preposterous theories and practices. Scientific American followed in September
1924 with a series of 12 papers investigating the E.R.A. A civil engineer, a specialist in
electricity and radio, a physician and a bacteriologist all concluded that the Oscilloclast
was barren of any therapeutic value—at best an illusion, and at worst, a colossal fraud.
Abrams died from pneumonia on 13 January 1924, while Scientific American was in the
midst of its investigation. He left an estate of over $2 million, a hard core of disciples and
an organization called the American Association for Medico-Physical Research.12 With the
death of its leader, electronic medicine quickly lost its momentum.
It was not long, however, until Gaylord Wilshire of Los Angeles announced his inven-
tion of the Ionaco to the press. This device was merely a coil of wire inside another coil.
The second coil was connected to house current, and a light also could be attached. The
patient was told that by placing the device around the neck and turning on the current, all
chronic disorders could be cured. A magnetic field was presumably created that controlled
all disease by magnetizing the iron in the blood. Gaylord Wilshire sold those devices
for $55 cash or $65 on time payments, and thousands of devices were sold. Shortly after
developing the device, Wilshire died from a disease of the kidney in a New York hospital,
no doubt without the benefit of his own invention.13