The previous news item briefly touched on apricot kernels. Rumours circulate that they help prevent cancer.
Apricot kernels contain amygdalin, also known as laetrile. Cancer cells are said to die after ingestion, while healthy cells are said to remain unharmed. In the 1970s, supplements containing amygdalin were available as a cancer treatment. This has since been clearly demonstrated to be untrue. On the contrary, amygdalin is dangerous. It is converted in the body into highly toxic cyanide.
Eating even two or three apricot kernels can have serious consequences. Even one kernel is poisonous for young children. Simply swallowing a kernel isn’t a problem, but chewing or crushing the kernels is.
The Belgian Ministry of Public Health has been warning about the high toxic content of apricot kernels since 2016. Since then, most packaging has been removed from health food stores and supermarkets. However, you can still buy the kernels online.
Apricot kernel powder is still used in confectionery, such as imitation marzipan, but it is first heated to high temperatures, which eliminates the toxic effect.
The Comité Para convened its annual general assembly in Brussels last June. For a long time, the French-speaking Belgian association strived to get younger members and wanted to renew its board. And, finally, the general assembly has elected four new critical thinkers at its head. Jérémy Royaux has been elected president, Dorian Neerdael vice-president, Thomas Guiot secretary- treasurer and Emmanuel Marseille has become the assistant secretary.
They plan to give the Comité Para a new fresh start and they give themselves one year to revive the Comité. –See you soon
Chiedi le prove, the Italian initiative established by CICAP and based on Ask for Evidence in the UK will bring four stories on the importance of evidence to the European Parliament in Bruxelles, on June 21.
Belgian philosopher Maarten Boudry (SKEPP member) wrote in an NRC Handelsblad opinion piece that medicines that rely solely on the placebo effect have one vital ingredient that patients need to supply themselves: belief. However, one cannot choose to believe something; you either believe something or you don’t, depending on circumstances you can’t control. We can’t force ourselves to believe a glass of ordinary tap water can relieve our headache. Likewise, once you know a certain medicine is nothing but a sugar pill, the placebo effect has worn off. Boudry calls this the ‘involuntary nature of belief’.
We can’t force ourselves to believe shaken water cures anything.
He therefore disagrees with the seemingly reasonable suggestion of ethnologist Peter Jan Margry, who argued we should draw a sharp line in alternative medicine between healthy and dangerous treatments. You can’t choose your own illusions, Boudry says, and illusions are always prone to harmful side-effects.
Unlike regular medicines, homeopathy may be said to be side-effect free: a sugar pill or a bit of shaken water does nothing whatsoever, neither good nor bad, and some people may get a placebo effect from it. ‘Should we therefore ban the Dutch Society against Quackery (Vereniging tegen de Kwakzalverij), and all start swallowing shaken water, in the hope we’ll someday all believe it works?’ Boudry asks. He points to an undercover investigation by Simon Singh and Alice Tuff (Sense about Science), who found all ten homeopaths they consulted recommended shaken water against malaria: potentially lethal illusions.
Homeopathy itself may therefore not be dangerous, but belief in it can be, especially when it’s considered a valid replacement of real medicine. Besides, the latter also offers a placebo bonus, so why resort to possibly harmful alternatives?
