A recently posted billboard by a legitimate, respected health care provider made me mad.

Most likely hoping to appeal to the alternative medicine crowd, aka unfortunate dupes, they had slipped a few alt med buzzwords into the headline. That wasn’t what bothered me. What bothered me was the medical claim itself. I was pretty sure that, if not outright lying, it indulged a bit of truth-stretching.

That was going to be the subject of this post. But—and this may come as a shock—I really don’t fancy myself one who knows everything. So before sitting down to blog, I dashed off an email to My Nephew The Doctor. His prompt reply politely made clear that I was full of it: In fact, the advertiser’s claim held up.

I appreciated it. Though I am not unaccustomed to making a fool of myself, I don’t actively seek such opportunities.

Nope. I explained that though testimonials are evidence, they are of the weakest kind. For just one example, consider the millions of people who mistakenly report positive results from homeopathic “medicines.” Or the millions who report that Vitamin C prevents or shortens colds, when in fact it does nothing of the sort and may increase the incidence of other, life-threatening diseases.

Since testimonials can be compelling, advertisers would do well to verify them before parading them. Hopefully I needn’t explain why that’s especially important where health claims are concerned. Yet bogus health claims in advertising abound. Among other reasons, they persist because they’re too numerous for regulatory and watchdog groups to keep up on; because profits can substantially outweigh fines; and, sometimes, because politicians back them. When it comes to the supplements industry, the ringleader of said politicians is none other than Orrin Hatch, allegedly representing my home state of Utah. Contributions to his campaigns from the supplements industry aside, I don’t accuse him of being corrupt, but of being honestly duped.

But now and then the law nails a marketer for bogus health claims. Last week, prosecutors in nine California counties slapped a $1,000,000.00 deceptive advertising fine on MyPillow. According to an NBC News article:
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Not surprisingly, MyPillow CEO Michael Lindell maintains that his company did “nothing wrong.” (Is it just me or has anyone else observed a correlation between saying “I did nothing wrong” and being guilty as hell?) His defense is that his company posted real testimonials from real customers. Oh, and their advertising included the disclaimer, “Claims for MyPillow are based on medical opinion and user experience and not on actual clinical studies. My Pillow is not a medical device and is not intended to diagnose, treat, mitigate or cure any disease.” Never mind that the testimonials sure seemed to say the pillow did exactly that. Or that the testimonials were featured in large type while the disclaimer appeared in minuscule type way the heck down at the bottom of the page.

Lindell says he has changed his advertising because fighting the decision isn’t worth the time and trouble. Meanwhile, he has three class-action suits to look forward to.