How pseudoscience finds its way into the pages of newspapers

In the 7 September edition of Corriere della Sera, Stefano Lorenzetto interviews Massimo Melelli Roia, a doctor from Perugia who describes himself as a "nullologist of medicine". The newspaper introduces him to readers, outside the quotation marks, as "one of the leading experts in therapeutic fasting and biological medicine". This is followed by iridology, homotoxicology, oligotherapy, Voll’s electroacupuncture, mycotherapy and hydrocolon therapy. When asked whether these are specialisations, Roia replies: “Not a single one”. The Corriere therefore had, right from the very first lines, all the information necessary to understand what it was publishing.

From that point onwards, the interview becomes a lengthy exposition of extraordinary medical claims, almost always presented without any verification of their scientific basis. Roia recounts that his Russian mentor, Eugeni Velkhover, was able to detect breast cancer from the iris six years before diagnosis and predict a heart attack two years in advance. He adds that he has learnt to recognise hereditary conditions dating back as far as six generations in the iris, based on statistics allegedly compiled from data on one million people. The Corriere reader receives this information and carries on reading. No one explains to them that iridology has long been the subject of controlled studies and that a systematic review concluded as early as 1999 that its diagnostic validity was not supported by the available evidence. A review published in June 2026 reaches the same conclusion after re-examining biological plausibility, diagnostic accuracy and reproducibility: iridology cannot be upheld as a diagnostic or screening tool.

The issue becomes particularly serious when the interviewee attributes specific therapeutic or diagnostic capabilities to these practices. Voll’s electroacupuncture is presented as a technique that can even be used during pregnancy. There are controlled trials on electrodermal devices derived from that tradition. A randomised, double-blind study published in the British Medical Journal subjected thirty people to more than 1,500 measurements and tested whether the test was capable of distinguishing between people with allergies and those without. It failed. The authors concluded that the method could not be used to diagnose those allergies. This kind of information is completely absent from the Corriere interview.

Then comes hydrocolon therapy. Roia describes individuals said to have retained faecal matter in their bowels for six years, sometimes for twelve, eighteen or twenty-four, lodged in the ‘recesses of the colon’, and claims that this matter becomes visible as it passes through the device’s transparent tube. It is a modern version of the old theory of intestinal auto-intoxication, upon which a branch of Western alternative medicine has been built for decades. Reviews of colon irrigation have found a lack of solid evidence to support the numerous therapeutic claims made by its proponents. One clinical journal went so far as to conclude that these claims were misleading patients. The Corriere, however, publishes the story of twenty-four-year-old faeces without providing the reader with any information on the current state of scientific knowledge.

The same procedure applies to fasting. Roia recounts a ‘record’ of forty-nine days and explains that during fasting, migraines, nausea and tachycardia are allegedly caused by ‘toxins entering the bloodstream’, against which acupuncture is said to be effective. Fasting is a genuine field of biomedical research and, for this very reason, requires precision. The available studies on prolonged fasting describe significant metabolic changes, loss of lean body mass and adverse events; the most recent reviews also highlight the possibility of electrolyte imbalances, orthostatic intolerance and problems with refeeding. Clinical research into fasting can provide specific guidance for specific conditions. It does not provide a blanket licence to turn forty-nine days without food into a therapy based on anecdotal evidence.

The interview eventually turns to anxiety and depression. Roia claims that these can also be treated with his ‘biological medicine’ and justifies this by pointing out that around 90 per cent of serotonin comes from the gut. The quantitative premise contains a fact that is physiologically accurate. The clinical conclusion, however, does not follow from it. Peripheral and cerebral serotonin constitute distinct pools; serotonin produced in the gut does not freely cross the blood-brain barrier. The relationship between the microbiota, the gut and the brain constitutes an important area of contemporary research, with mechanisms far more complex than the oversimplified explanation proposed in the interview. Here too, the reader is presented with a medical explanation of anxiety and depression that lacks the necessary verification.

Lorenzetto expresses some doubts. He describes the term ‘biological medicine’ as ‘vague’, highlights the potential risks of acupuncture, and raises the issues of penicillin, vaccines, antiretrovirals and chemotherapy. These comments remain within the conversation and are addressed in the interviewee’s responses. The journalistic scrutiny required for verifiable health claims would be of a different nature: taking the claim, checking the literature, and reporting the findings to the reader. A newspaper can interview anyone. When it publishes claims capable of influencing a sick person, verifying them is part of the journalistic process.

The most significant question comes near the end: “All right, medicine isn’t an exact science, but who are we supposed to believe?”. A statement such as this incorrectly frames the workings of medicine as a competition between beliefs. Scientific medicine does not ask us to place our trust in one doctor over another. It formulates hypotheses, measures outcomes, compares treatments, records adverse events and revises its conclusions when the evidence changes. The iridologist who claims to see a cancer in the eye six years before diagnosis puts forward a testable hypothesis. Anyone who claims to treat anxiety and depression through a generic ‘biological medicine’ puts forward a testable hypothesis. A major newspaper has the resources to find out what happened when hypotheses of this kind were tested.

Il Corriere also has a Health section, in which it regularly publishes high-quality medical content. It is precisely this fact that makes it difficult to dismiss the case as an inevitable inaccuracy on the part of a general-interest newspaper. The publication itself possesses the necessary expertise to apply basic verification criteria to health-related claims. Evidently, those criteria sometimes cease to apply when medical topics feature in the news, personal interviews or columns.

The Roia incident is, in fact, part of an editorial issue already evident elsewhere. Il Corriere regularly features Franco Berrino’s "Piccole Dosi" column, which appears amongst its opinion pieces. In December 2023, it published an article entitled "Kuzu: how to treat inflammation of the oesophagus, pharynx and intestines", in which acid reflux is described using the yin and yang categories of macrobiotics and it is claimed, on the basis of "clinical experience", that a few weeks’ treatment with kuzu is sufficient to resolve the problem. Another article on constipation states that the best time to have a bowel movement is between six and eight o’clock, when, according to traditional Chinese medicine, ‘the energy of the large intestine’ is at its peak. These articles are published and indexed under the Corriere’s brand, alongside its scientific journalism.

The effect of this editorial system is easy to describe. A claim that lacks sufficient scientific validation nonetheless acquires extremely powerful social credibility. It appears in the Italian daily newspaper which, by virtue of its history, circulation and authority, occupies a central position within the media landscape. It is accompanied by a photograph of the interviewee, details of their degree, the roles they claim to hold and the success stories they recount. The newspaper adds the title ‘one of the leading experts’ in the summary. For a reader lacking the necessary tools to consult PubMed, check diagnostic studies and evaluate a systematic review, this editorial packaging carries enormous weight.

The situation appears even more serious when looking at the Cronache section of Il Corriere dated 8 September. The interview with the doctor discussing iridology, faecal residues dating back twenty-four years and biological treatments for anxiety and depression appears immediately alongside the story of Francesco Gianello, who died aged fourteen from osteosarcoma after his parents had sought treatment from a doctor who followed Hamer’s theories. The experts appointed by the Vicenza Assize Court have just submitted a report stating that the boy could have been saved by following standard chemotherapy and surgical protocols; the trial is ongoing and criminal liability naturally rests with the judges. Il Corriere provides a detailed account of that tragedy and, on the very same page, offers extensive coverage—lacking adequate scientific scrutiny—of another set of medical theories that have no place in evidence-based medicine. The two cases are different and no clinical equivalence can be established. The editorial contradiction remains intact.

For years we have been discussing the damage caused by pseudoscience when it enters institutions. A major daily newspaper is one such institution, because it helps to determine, on a daily basis, which people deserve to be heard and which claims can enter the public discourse with a veneer of respectability. Freedom of speech naturally allows a doctor to advocate iridology, homotoxicology or the existence of faecal matter that has remained in the colon for twenty-four years. Editorial freedom allows a newspaper to interview him. The quality of information is measured by the work carried out between these two freedoms and the reader.

In this case, Il Corriere did not do enough of that work. It turned extraordinary medical claims into interview material, leaving their assessment to the journalist’s next remark. It described a doctor as ‘one of the leading experts’ in relation to ‘biological medicine’ – biological medicine, because by now ‘bio’ is considered good by default – which the interviewee himself combines with practices of deeply varying scientific merit, some of which have failed direct experimental verification. It allowed individual accounts of healing to take up the space where clinical data should have appeared.

When a newspaper of this stature repeatedly makes such a choice, pseudoscience triumphs unchallenged, and the reason is clear: the Corriere della Sera has opened the door to it. Stefano Lorenzetto, the interviewer who wrote a “Dizionario delle citazioni sbagliate”, should know full well what I am talking about.