snake oil (n.)

A few years ago, scientists confirmed that snake oil does indeed have some beneficial medicinal properties. But that came too late for the moniker “snake oil,’’ a catchall term for all manner of malicious miracle cures. It is a term forever tarnished by its association with con men, grifters, and politicians. It was often lobbed this year at Donald Trump, by critics from Khizr Khan to Senator Claire McCaskill.

But snake oil wasn’t always a pejorative. Before government regulations, there were all manner of patent medicines that promised to relieve suffering. At their most harmless, these treatments were expensive bottles of nothing — a placebo before the name. At their worst, they were actively toxic. And at their most mendacious, they were alcohol, opium, or cocaine repackaged as cough syrups, powders, or sarsaparillas. “None of these ‘cures’ really does cure any serious affection, although a majority of their users recover,’’ wrote Collier’s magazine in an expose that led Congress to regulate the industry at the dawn of the 20th century.

In 2016, we live in a new golden age of miracle cures.

In health care, they’re often called “nutritional supplements’’ because they can’t be legally advertised as medicines. For instance, Mannatech, which “transforms lives around the world through innovative Glyconutrition products that provide an unprecedented level of wellness, freedom and purpose.’’ Ben Carson, nominated to be the next secretary of Housing and Urban Development, took flak for his longtime association with the company, which was sued for false advertising.

In personal finance, it’s buying gold in advance of a Weimar-esque rise in inflation that’s always just around the corner. Consider Goldline, the company that was ubiquitous across the conservative media landscape before it was forced to refund millions to defrauded customers.

In politics, snake oil is Donald Trump’s successful run for White House on a series of unkeepable promises, such as a 3,000-mile wall to be built at another nation’s expense.

Yet there’s a good reason that snake oil sells: Buyers are desperate — or believe themselves to be. Those who flocked to Trump’s banner were said to be dying younger, losing ground to minorities, and facing the risk of poverty as never before. These things, they are told, are all the fault of someone else — the government, gay couples, immigrants, trade deals.

And yet Americans are not drafted to fight on foreign shores, forced to work for below a minimum wage, or live without a social safety net, however modest. Refugee crises, political coups, and economic collapses that plague other corners of the globe are distant, non-issues here, despite how proximate they may appear on the news. Violent crime rates scrape the basement of statistical measurement. The government even tries to protect citizens against charlatans hawking miracle cures.

Many people simply suffer from being told that they suffer by those who are selling a cure. Suffering, like fear, is good business because people will do — or pay — anything to make it stop.

— ALEX KINGSBURY

Alex Kingsbury can be reached at alex.kingsbury@globe.com.