Hypnotherapist Cats: A Real Threat

This week I’m going to take you back to my native North East – imagine if you will the taste of fresh stottie, the smell of the River Wear and the lush and verdant scenery of Durham’s forest. And then forget most of that, because it’s in no way relevant to what we’re about to talk about. Which, specifically, is an episode of the BBC One North East show Inside Out. The show this week featured George Jackson’s success in registering with a professional-seeming organisation of hypnotists. Many people might think a little odd, given that George is in fact a cat.

In the show, which took a look at the hypnotherapy industry and the sham claims to legitimacy of many practitioners, presenter Chris Jackson decide to test just how easy it is to set yourself up as an “accredited” hypnotherapist with absolutely no qualifications. Rather than register himself, he decided to try the Ben Goldacre approach and aim for feline registry – and he discovered that using a fake diploma and paying a pretty nominal sum it was alarmingly easy to set his moggy up as a ‘genuine’ hypnotherapist.

The stunt is reminiscent, of course, of Hettie Goldacre’s success in achieving membership of the American Association of Nutritional Consultants (AANC), despite being both a cat and dead. Ben registered his deceased moggy in order to show up the nutritionist and non-doctor Gillian McKeith’s claims to accreditation – reports of the whole affair can be read in full on his excellent Bad Science blog. As I’m sure you knew.

Aside from exposing the sham nature of organisation bodies, elsewhere in the show the claims of George McNaney were examined. McNaney calls himself ‘hypnotist to the stars’ in a blatant appeal to what’s often seen as authority these days – that of celebrity. On top of that, he also lists all of his certificates and accreditations on his website, including:

• Association for Professional Hypnosis and Psychotherapy (APHP)
• Hypnotherapy Society (HS)
• General Hypnotherapy Standards Council (GHSC)
• General Hypnotherapy Register (GHR Reg)
• National Council of Psychotherapists (NCP)
• Accredited by the National Regulatory Register for Hypnotherapy (NRH)
• UK Confederation of Hypnotherapy Organisations (UKCHO)

All impressive-sounding, I’m sure you’ll agree. But must I remind you about the cat? Excellently, George McNaney lists his full name on his website, with all of his qualification-titles too, describing himself as:

George McNaney
Clinical Hypnotherapist – D.Hyp.LNCP.LAPHP.LHS.NRH.GHR.GQHP.UKCHO

How about that for an appeal to authority. By the way, that’s the Sunderland-dwelling human, not the cat, despite them both being called George, which I’ll admit is a bit confusing, but try and keep up. Maybe ‘George’ is quite a hypnotherapisty name? Who knows.

Anyway, man-George claims to be able to help people stop smoking. Cat-George makes no such claims, I hasten to add. Hypnotherapy has been show to be roughly helpful in around 20-35 percent of smokers – which seems to me to be closer to the normal figures for stopping smoking anyway, so how it can be shown to be exclusively the hypnotherapy that’s helping I’m not sure. Still, that’s an academic point, because Man-George claims a success rate of “up to 90 per cent” using hypnotherapy techniques for a one-off payment of £129. Which is high when it comes to in both numbers.

When asked about his success-rate and the vast gulf between what he claims and what can be shown to be true using actual science and evidence, Man-George responded by saying that he’s less interested in clinical tests than what works for his clients. Where have we heard that before? Oh yeah – with every bullshit-peddler going.

After a bit more digging, the Inside Out team discovered that although Mr McNaney has a website offering hypnotherapy services, he isn’t the director of any registered hypnotherapy company. He is, however, the director of an outfit that predicts who’s going to win at the horse racing, for the small fee of over £5000. Apparently, this scam (sorry, scheme!) is no longer in operation and was stopped before he became a hypnotherapist. This makes sense – why make money scamming people when you can make money scamming people in ways they’re less likely to complain about.

At this point, it’s worth noting that despite the existence of several hypnotherapy organisations around the country, the practice is not regulated by law and there are no standard qualifications. Which is good news for Cat-George, and even better news for Man-George. With this in mind, I’ve decided to become a hypnotherapist myself. Cat-George is gonna show miaow.

Baba Ramdev, left, in orange

This week, the BBC ran a report about the North Ayrshire island of Little Cumbra which is being converted into an international yoga camp after a blessing from India’s most popular lifestyle guru Baba Ramdev.

The island was bought by two devoted Glaswegian followers of the Swami, and will be renamed ‘Peace Island’ for the project which will build the camp – and if the claims Baba Ramdev makes are to be believed, the £2m paid for the island was a bargain. If his claims are to be believed. Which, it turns out, is quite a big ‘if’ – considering the wild claims he’s prone to making.

In fact, the BBC report itself puts some of his wild assertions out uncritically, specifically regarding the healing powers of the Swami’s practice of yoga and pranayama. Pranayama, in case you’ve not heard of it, is a Sanskrit word meaning “restraint of the prana or breath”. In Yoga, it’s used to denote the control of breathing practiced throughout the stretching. But, as the BBC reports, it has other properties too:

“Sunita Podder, the island’s new owner, says before pranayama she was overweight and taking 12 tablets a day”

OK, maybe there’s something in that – yoga is some form exercise, so while the breathing itself won’t have had any effect, the stretching and the associated lifestyle changes could account for the change in weight and mood (although it neglects to mention what the 12 tablets she was taking were).

“Dhruv says he was stressed on his diet of alcohol and meat and says now nothing can trouble him”

Nothing can trouble him? Oh dear. This sounds like it could go somewhere pretty effing crazy. Like, for example:

“Eric Ross, from Bolton, has been doing the yoga for three months and says it is already helping his diabetes. Eric believes in the cancer-treating claims made for pranayama”

That’s right, deep-breathing can cure cancer. Or so says the Swami. Eric continues:

“I believe it 110%. It’s been going on for thousands of years but it’s new to westernised people. I’m going to India so I can learn how to do it myself and teach it. We can cure ourselves from within.”

Can anyone spot the fallacies in that sentence, other than the ‘argument from more than 100%’?

Cancer-curing isn’t the only outlandish health claim made by Baba Ramdev – in August 2006 in an interview with the BBC he claimed his ‘complete medical science’, by which he means yoga, benefits hepatitis sufferers.

What’s more, in December 2006 it was reported that Ramdev had made claims of being able to use Yoga and Ayurvedic herbs to cure AIDS. However, apparently, he had been misquoted (despite these claims existing on his website to this day) – he said his new-age techniques only alleviate the suffering of AIDS, without curing it. For which there’s no proof, of course. So that’s fine, is it? Breathe deep and your AIDS suffering will be lessened? And this man has over 80million followers, we’re told?

What shocked me most about this story, really, was the way in which the BBC reported the claimed cures with no criticism – no note to say that deep breathing, stretching and wishful-thinking won’t cure cancer, no note to urge caution when faced with outrageous health claims. I think the BBC really dropped the ball here, promoting a man who’s been peddling quack, touchy-feely nonsense.

What’s more, the Swami is far from cleaner than clean – in July 2009, after the Delhi High Court repealed the laws that made homosexuality illegal in India, Ramdev was quoted as saying:

“The verdict will encourage criminality and sick mentality. This kind of thing is shameful and insulting. We are blindly following the West in everything. This is breaking the family system in India. Homosexuals are sick people, they should be sent to hospitals for treatment. If the government brings this law, I will take to the streets of Delhi in protest” – Source: DNA India

And this man is revered as lifestyle guru, a role model, and gets his own £2m island. Blimey.

Noel Edmonds, host of Deal or No Deal

This week it’s emerged that bearded box-opener Noel Edmonds of the granny-pleasing game show ‘Deal or No Deal‘ has something other than dumb luck and a penchant for stripey jumpers on his side. Noel, who’s career was saved by the quiz show after his popularity plummeted with the demise of his long-running 90s show ‘Noel’s House Party‘, has pinned his recent success firmly on ‘Cosmic Ordering‘.

For the uninitiated of our listeners, Cosmic Ordering is the mystical self-help movement whereby followers are encouraged to write down a wish list of things they want to come true and submit it to the cosmos and wait for it to happen. In that way it’s a lot like the Oprah-tastic self-help piddle ‘The Law of Atraction‘, essentially telling people that if you wish hard enough, anything you want will come to you.

In Noel’s case he was turned on to the power of the cosmos by that sure-fire source of life expertise – his reflexologist. Because, obviously, anyone who spends their day magically rubbing the feet of strangers clearly has the secret to getting ahead in life… but enough of the ad hominems. Instead lets look at this from a professional, respectable angle. Oh, sorry, mistake – let’s look at this in the Daily Mail.

The Mail opens with a small and characteristically-understated claim:

“Want a great new job or meet that special someone? Television presenter Noel Edmonds has launched an iPhone application that will call on the cosmos to help you” – Source: Mail Online, 21/09/09

Bet you didn’t see that coming! Because not only has Noel got the secret to getting what you want from the world, he’s prepared to let you download it straight to your iPod, for a nominal fee of course. This is self-help after all, and Noel needs to self-help too you know… The article goes on to explain:

“The app is based on the New Age philosophy of ‘cosmic ordering’ and allows people to place orders with the cosmos asking for their wishes to come true and then record what happens.”

I love the phrase ‘place orders with the cosmos’ – like it’s some kind of ethereal room service. ‘Hi, is that the cosmos? Yeah, I’d like a ham sandwich, a black coffee, and my own infuriatingly simple and irritatingly popular game series whereby I create drama out of people literally saying random numbers while a bunch of strangers open cheap boxes with other numbers written inside them. Oooh, could you give me my own phone where I can pretend to talk to someone else when really I’m just talking to myself like an bearded simpleton too, please? Excellent’

Noel Edmonds' Cosmic Ordering will help you gain success and good fortune

Also, what the hell does it even mean to place your order with the cosmos. The cosmos is space, it’s the universe. There’s no placing an order – you’re a tiny insignificant blob of carbon on a tiny planet far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy. The universe owes you nothing, Noel. But download Noel’s app and you will owe him £1.20. Well it’s tacky nonsense, but at least it’s relatively cheap tacky nonsense.

You might ask me: ‘How does the app work?’ Well, it doesn’t, obviously. Then you might say: ‘No, no, I mean what does it do?’ In which case I’d chastise your lack of clarity, tell you I’m not a mind reader, and then explain to you that it apparently allows phone users to record their orders and how the cosmos responded to the request. What’s more the orders can be viewed by date placed, the target date for delivery as well as the subject, such as Family, Love, Health and Wealth. Which, again, is just meaningless dribble. While there is something to be said for writing down and recording achievable, progressive steps towards your goals (something Richard Wiseman covers in his latest book, I believe), the notion that writing down where you want to be and what you want to get and it will come to you is false; attaching it to a magical, mystical cosmic force is palpably nonsense.

Noel says of the scam – sorry, scheme:

“We must never forget that the cosmos exists solely to help those who want to help themselves. It is an incredibly powerful force and a wonderful friend and ally for all who adopt a positive approach to life. However, the cosmos won’t, indeed it can’t, assist you unless you adhere to the three basic rules of cosmic ordering, the most important of which is belief in yourself and your right to be successful.”

This is where it gets a bit nasty, if you ask me – sure, the idea that if you believe hard enough you’ll get anything you want is seductive, and sweet, and blah and blah and blah. But what about those who don’t get what they want? Who stay poor, or stay alone, or stay ill with disease – what of them? By Noel’s cosmic ordering, they didn’t wish hard enough, didn’t believe strongly enough. By the very logic of this self-help crap, anything that you don’t get, you don’t deserve; anything bad that happens to you, is your own fault. Charming. Kind makes me wish for the good old days when the only irritating crap Noel was pushing on us was Mr Blobby.

But the thing that makes it sing (I like that rhyme) is the apps, or applications for long.  Yes, there is a whole world of people out there who have quickly and brilliantly devised handy tools that you can download and which reside on your iPhone.  Just waiting for that perfect conjunction of need and opportunity to arise.  Then they spring, gazelle-like, into action with just the lightest press of your finger on the screen, bringing almost immediate gratification and a rush of happiness.  “What is my bank balance just now?”; “How much would the payments work out to on that car with £1000 deposit?”; “What time is the next train to Liverpool from where I am right now?”; for that matter “Where am I right now?”.

How about “What type of water should I use to cure a cold?”

Sorry? What was that?  Was it a little bit of bollocks lurking among the long grass?  Well yes it was.  Welcome to the world of iHomeopath by Dr Luc De Schepper.

All I have to do is type in “Cold”. If I ignore the first symptom that comes up that Homeopathy can cure, which is “COLD drinks: Feel worse from” (for which the cure is invisible arsenic or phosphorous, more of which is written in part 5 of the book it seems), I have no less than 15 different types of cold symptoms to choose from before the alphabetical list moves onto constipation.  (I can’t help but think that Luc ought to look there because he seems to be clogged up himself).

In the order they appear:

Well I feel better now that the cure for the common cold is out there.  Oh, did I say “Cure”?  My apologies.  These are “remedies”, or “preparations”.

Hang on. Surely there’s something more specific to describe what they are.  Let’s have a look around.

Whoooooaaaaa there, Neddy.  What’s this?  A medical disclaimer?  Hmmm best read it.

The information on (sic) this application is presented for informational purposes only.  All therapies, treatments, exercises or energetic interventions of any nature should be undertaken only under the direct guidance and care of a properly and fully trained health care professional specializing in the services rendered.  Nothing in this application should be construed by any reader, user or other person to be a diagnosis or treatment for any disease or condition.  Aerende, Inc, LLC and Dr Lucien De Schepper will not accept any responsibility for any ill effects resulting from the use or misuse of the information contained in this application.  Any use or misuse of the information presented here for educational and entertainment purposes are the sole responsibility of the end user

A search for “homeopath” in the Apps store reveals ten applications, two of which are free and the rest are between £0.59 and £4.99.

A search for “acupuncture” reveals thirteen apps, all of which are paid for and one of which is a staggering £11.99.  There is one that you can use by browsing to the appropriate diagnosis, then it tells you the acupuncture point, then… wait for it… you press the corner of the phone to that point and… yes, you guessed it, the iPhone vibrates stimulating the thingy!

Press as hard as is comfortable

Ha ha ha.  I’m holding my sizeable stomach while laughing my F%$£&*G A£$E off.

Other Woo Apps:

• Reflexology: 5
• Chakra: 49
• Guardian angel: 3
• Astrology: 75+ (couldn’t be bothered counting any further)

And so on.  You get the idea.  You couldn’t make it up!

I’m going to complain about Dr Luc and the way this App is presented.  You could do the same if you like!