Belladonna’s Fall From Grace
Disclaimer: Do not use Atropa belladonna without the strict guidance of a medical professional.
“Belladonna is considered one of the most important drugs in medicine” claims a book published in 1894. Leafing through medical journals from the 1700 and 1800s finds praise for belladonna in curing everything from asthma to gastric ulcers to painful menstruation. It was applauded as an anti-inflammatory, anti-spasmodic, and sedative. It was even alleged to be used as a preventative measure and treatment for scarlet fever and whooping cough
There are centuries of documentation that celebrate this plant for its medicinal contributions - which makes it all the more interesting that it is so feared today.
Before the industrial revolution, most people had a direct connection with a healer in their family to provide healthcare. Often based on empirical knowledge and folk traditions, remedies had personal ties to each individual and their environment. Relationships were cultivated with things that were consumed. Plants, medicine, and food formed a dialogue between humans and the land they lived on.
As industrialization became a priority, people were forced to outsource. Plants and trees were cleared to make way for buildings, which accommodated more people to provide more services. Civilization grew exponentially. Marketing entered the chat. And soon humanity was in the precarious waters of trying to get personal needs met in a modern, capitalistic society. People couldn’t form close relationships with their medicine or bodies when working 12 hour shifts. At best, they would only have time to see a physician for a few minutes when something was wrong and take whatever they suggested to fix a problem.
As cities expanded, so did competition. Advertising developed an entire industry to sway people into using one product or be wary of another. Expertise was replaced by whoever could present the most alluring argument. This was a dangerous game. In 1885, Lloyd Manufacturing printed innocent-looking ads for cocaine toothache drops with children on them. Glyco-Heroin Smith encouraged children and adults to take heroin for their coughs. McNeil recommended barbiturates for tranquilizing menopausal women with distorted photos of unhappy faces.
Advertisements for belladonna followed suit. In 1896, Johnsons claimed that belladonna “will strengthen your weak back”. An ad from Carters in the 1880s showed a smiling, angelic child in bed with a doll accompanying the tag line “back-ache quickly cured by Carter’s Smart Weed and Belladonna”. Gilpin, Langdon, & Co even marketed belladonna as the “perfect medicine”. It is at this point that capitalism reduced belladonna, like most living things, to a product being pedaled. Its complete story was not needed; marketing only used what could be sold and downplayed the rest.
Questionable practices happened alongside these wild claims. Consumers began to suspect malpractice as people died or babies became deformed after taking certain products. Word spread and activism began to stir in response. From 1879 until 1905, nearly 100 different bills were introduced to congress in hopes of regulating hazardous products.
The problem was thrust into the spotlight in 1905, when Upton Sinclair published The Jungle. It was written as a bleak look into what industrialization and capitalism were doing to everyday people - and what was happening behind the scenes of products they were told to trust. In response to public outrage from this book lifting the veil, the government passed the Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906. Its primary function “prohibited the sale of misbranded or adulterated food and drugs in interstate commerce”. It also marked the foundation of the Food and Drug Administration, a regulatory system designed to protect consumers from misleading or dangerous practices enacted by companies.
But this did not protect people enough. In 1937, a new wonder drug for children was introduced that was essentially antifreeze. Over 100 people died after taking it and the public flipped out, demanding that drugs needed to be tested before being sold. This brought about the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act of 1938 to hold companies accountable for harm and require actual proof of their claims - and their safety. It also forced products to have better packaging regulations, authorized factory inspections, and allowed the FDA to take legal action against manufacturers who did not follow the new mandates.
While these were all necessary protections for a capitalistic country growing faster than it should, it eliminated room for nuance. Either a substance was safe or it wasn’t. The aforementioned cocaine, heroin, and barbiturates were investigated and put on a list of controlled substances. Despite never making that list, belladonna was decided to be not worth the effort. With the government keeping a watchful eye on manufacturers, the line between medicine and overdose became too risky. They could no longer advertise universal claims, nor could pharmaceutical companies afford to put all their stock in one product. Most opted to replace belladonna with other products that provided similar functions without the paper-thin margin for user error that accompanies this plant. As the pharmaceutical industry adjusted to make a profit under the new regulations, it quietly faded out of favor and into obscurity.
These days, a lot of people scoff at the idea that a poisonous plant was ever used in such a widespread way. It’s compared to lead, arsenic, and asbestos - all things we didn’t know better about until modern science told us otherwise. While it may not be the “perfect medicine” like people in the 1800s were lead to believe, it is also harmful to swing hard in the opposite direction and demonize a plant. Both viewpoints are extreme and don’t consider belladonna’s whole story. In reality, it was only harmful when used improperly. It developed its unsavory reputation when capitalism decided it wasn’t worth spending time and resources on. It does make perfect sense to find the safest medicine possible and pass over belladonna for most purposes. Guidelines are important when people lose the direct connection they have with what they consume.
But education is equally important. I have written extensively about how poison is a verb, not a noun. Everything is capable of harm at an incorrect dose. Any medicine, allopathic or herbal, should be used with caution. Even an over-the-counter like Tylenol causes about 500 deaths per year. Overdosing on something as gentle as chamomile can cause vomiting and gastrointestinal distress. Water, the most life-giving substance on the planet, can kill anyone if too much is used.
Rather than fearing belladonna, we would be better off fostering an understanding and respect for it. Despite the impact that the 1938 legislation had, it is actually still used in some medical applications - just tucked out of the spotlight. Eye drops at the optometrist are often made with belladonna’s chemical constitutients, and the same is true with anti-nausea patches for surgery. Under the guidance of someone trained in using it properly, it is still an important tool in diagnostics, comfort, and healing.
There is so much depth to belladonna that has been erased as it faded out of public view, and its role in the pharmaceutical industry is only one facet of its story. To honor its extensive work alongside humanity, the Poison Garden has actually dedicated its entire second issue to this fascinating plant. Tracing through its history and into present-day, contributors have painted a complete portrait through the lenses of ecology, science, history, theater, somatics, and art - and introduce ways for readers to forge their own safe connections with it.
