American Experience (1988–…): Season 32, Episode 2 - The Poison Squad - full transcript

♪

(utensils scraping)

NARRATOR:
"We sit at a table
delightfully spread,"

"and teeming
with good things to eat.

"And daintily finger
the cream-tinted bread,

"just needing to make it
complete--

"a film of the butter
so yellow and sweet,

"well suited to make every
minute a dream of delight.

"And yet while we eat,

"we cannot help asking
'What's in it?'

"The wine which you drink
never heard of a grape,



"but of tannin
and coal tar is made.

"And you could not be certain,
except for their shape,

"that the eggs
by a chicken were laid.

"And the salad, which bears
such an innocent look

"and whispers of fields
that are green,

"is covered with germs,
each armed with a hook

"to grapple with
liver and spleen.

♪

"The banquet how fine,
don't begin it

"till you think of the past
and the future and sigh,

"'How I wonder, how I wonder,

what's in it.'"

Harvey Wiley.

In 1901, government chemist
Harvey Washington Wiley



set out to prove that
Americans were being poisoned

by an ever-increasing number
of new chemical preservatives

secretly being added
to their food.

Wiley had been on a
public crusade for two decades

to force the government
to regulate

the powerful new
food manufacturing industry,

when he struck upon a novel
approach to raise awareness:

human trials.

SARAH LOHMAN:
What Wiley wanted
to find out is,

"If you eat enough of this,
will it kill you?"

It created public awareness
for people

to begin to question
what was in their food,

and I think, more importantly,

question these
large corporations.

America was definitely
the Wild West

for putting all kinds
of chemicals into food.

It was completely unregulated.

Any producer could get away
with whatever they wanted.

LOHMAN:
Before Wiley,
there was nobody testing

to see whether something
was harmful or not.

NARRATOR:
Wiley became the face
of the pure food movement

that was sweeping the country,

mobilizing legions of activists

allied in a fight
for basic human rights

that came to define
the Progressive Era.

LOHMAN:
This man's course in life
was to make food safe.

Making sure that
the poorest among us

could go to the store
and get food

that wasn't going to kill them.

NARRATOR:
Wiley's controversial
experiments

captivated and even
entertained the country,

and his volunteers earned
the nickname "the Poison Squad."

Their sacrifice helped
lead to the passage

of the first consumer-protection
laws in American history.

DEBORAH BLUM:
The Poison Squad was one

of the most influential
scientific studies

of the 20th century.

BRUCE WATSON:
This is the
first federal attempt

to regulate the quality
and adulteration of food.

In a very real way,
he's the father of the FDA.

♪

♪

(liquid bubbling)

♪

NARRATOR:
In 1881,

37-year-old chemist Harvey Wiley

was working in
relative obscurity

in the lone laboratory on
the campus of Purdue University.

Wiley had become fixated on
the analysis of food products,

perfecting techniques for
identifying and isolating

their various
chemical components.

Earlier that year,

the Indiana State Board
of Health had asked Wiley

to examine the purity

of commercially sold honey
and maple syrup.

Wiley collected samples
from across the state.

Much to his surprise,

his analysis revealed
up to 90% of them were fake.

♪

Most of the jars labeled "honey"
were just tinted corn syrup

with a scrap of honeycomb
thrown in

to complete the deception.

LOHMAN:
At the turn of the century,

people would buy honey,
and it was usually corn syrup.

People would buy maple syrup,
and it was usually corn syrup.

People would buy jam, and
it was usually corn syrup.

You had no idea what was
in your jar of jam.

You had no way to know that,

because there was no labeling
on these foods either.

BLUM:
Wiley takes all of these samples

and finds hugely
widespread fraud

across the board
in all of these products

and basically comes out
and says,

"If this is true
in Indiana alone,

"we know it's true everywhere,

"So this is a national problem,

and this is not acceptable."

♪

NARRATOR:
Wiley's interest in the
new field of food chemistry

was happening at a moment
of unprecedented change

in the way Americans ate.

By the late 19th century,

the country was in the midst

of a second
industrial revolution.

Great advances in technology

allowed for the expansion
of all types of industry,

from steel manufacturing
and coal mining

to communication and railroads.

Trains now moved
people and produce

at a pace and distance
never imagined,

radically re-shaping
the American landscape.

No facet of life went untouched

by the great economic
transformation,

including the American diet.

Cities swelled

as millions of new laborers
began working in factories.

The nation's efforts
to feed them sparked a boom

in the new field of industrial
food manufacturing.

BLUM:
Post-Civil War,

you start seeing a migration
to the city

and away from people
who were living

in the farm-fresh communities.

So there's more and more people,

more and more food
has to be manufactured.

The biggest purely
economic development

is the rise of big business.

You get Pillsbury,
you get Heinz, Campbell's,

Nabisco.

All these big food companies
emerge at this time.

NARRATOR:
With industrialization
came consolidation.

Midwestern cities grew into
major food-manufacturing hubs,

where everything
from wheat, corn,

and livestock
could be processed.

By 1890, Chicago's
Union Stockyards

were processing over nine
million head of cattle a year.

(cattle mooing)

And by the turn of the century,

meatpacking behemoths
like Swift and Armour

were providing nearly 90%
of the country's processed meat.

Rather than moving food

from the area surrounding
the city to the city,

you know, you can grow
your beef out in the Midwest.

You can process it in Chicago,

and you can bring it
down into New York City,

all through railroads
at fairly low cost.

ERIC SCHLOSSER:
The slaughterhouses of America

created the notion
of an assembly line.

When Henry Ford came up with the
assembly line for the Model T,

it was inspired by the
slaughterhouses in Chicago,

which were applying all kinds
of new notions of efficiency

to food production.

NARRATOR:
With mass distribution
across the country,

food manufacturers were
running into the problem

of how to keep their products
fresh for market

and how to do so
at the lowest possible cost.

MARK BITTMAN:
You didn't even have
refrigeration.

It hadn't been really determined
how to preserve things

in a way that would
keep them marketable

for a long period of time.

There was canning,

but that didn't work
for everything.

So what were you supposed to do?

NARRATOR:
Increasingly,
companies were turning

to the burgeoning chemical
industry for answers.

By 1901, companies like Dow
and Monsanto had introduced

a host of new chemicals
to the food supply.

BLUM:
There's preservative
discoveries,

formaldehyde, the ability
to synthesize formaldehyde.

There's copper sulfate,
which is a heavy metal,

is used to turn vegetables
greener when they're canned.

Copper sulfate
in particular was one

that was used
for a very long time.

It went into green peas,
and it went into pickles.

Anything that needed
to look bright and fresh,

copper sulfate went into it.

BITTMAN:
In the 19th century,
most food was still real.

and then the 20th century saw
the process of food

going from real

to something that
no one had ever seen before.

SCHLOSSER:
It'd be wonderful to think
that there was this Eden

back in American history,

where everything was free range
and organic and perfect,

but in the 19th century,

as more and more Americans
were leaving the farm,

and now living in cities,

they had lost this direct
and intimate connection

with their food.

♪

NARRATOR:
Harvey Washington Wiley was born
in October of 1844,

knowing full well
where his food came from.

He grew up in a log cabin
in Kent, Indiana,

about a hundred miles northeast

of where Abraham Lincoln
had been raised

just a few decades earlier.

Like Lincoln,
Wiley spent his youth

working on his family farm.

By six, he was herding the
family cows back to the barn

for their daily milking.

At ten, he was driving the plow.

BLUM:
He would talk about the
fact that he had grown up

in this vanishing American idyll
of a small family farm,

where everything was fresh,

and everything that was made
was made naturally.

They did churn their own butter.

They did milk their own cows.

So, he was very grounded in
that old-time, agrarian sense

of, "This is what real food is."

And what I do think
it led him to do

is this very simple category--

real food, fake food,
with nothing in between.

NARRATOR:
It was young Harvey's father,
Preston Wiley,

who cultivated within him one
of his most enduring attributes:

a fervent belief
in social justice.

BLUM:
His father was a farmer

but was also an itinerant
evangelical preacher,

passionate about social justice.

He was a conductor
on the Underground Railroad

in the part of southern Indiana
where they were.

SUZANNE JUNOD:
His family was very progressive.

 
Wiley grew up in an atmosphere

in which there were standards

of honesty and integrity,

influenced by religion.

A sense that there is, you know,
a right way and a wrong way.

He read a lot.

His father clearly realized
that education was important.

He encouraged all of his family
to be well-educated.

NARRATOR:
Wiley was determined to use
his education for good.

He earned a medical degree at
Indiana Medical College in 1871

and wasn't shy about expounding
on the virtues of science

for achieving a longer life

"full of health, happiness,
and hope," he noted.

Then he received a degree
in chemistry from Harvard,

and in 1874

accepted the position
to be Purdue University's

first chemistry professor.

But Wiley quickly grew restless
with life in the classroom,

finding himself more at home
running experiments

from within his
spartan laboratory.

BLUM:
He loves chemistry,

he saw chemistry as
a science that could do good,

and that was how
he wanted to use it.

(car horn honks)

NARRATOR:
In 1878,

Wiley took a sabbatical
to Europe,

where he found himself on the
cutting edge of food chemistry.

He attended lectures of
world-renowned scientists

like August Wilhelm von Hofmann,

the inventor of formaldehyde.

It was there that
Wiley became interested

in European advancements
in analytic chemistry

and in perfecting techniques

to ferret out
chemical additives in food.

While in Europe,

Wiley saw firsthand
the power of science

to reform an unregulated
food industry run amok.

By 1860 Britain had already
passed a major law

to limit chemical
adulteration of food

after a series of deaths caused
by toxic chemical additives

stirred public outrage.

In one incident, over 20 people
from the town of Bradford died

after being poisoned

by arsenic-laced
food coloring in candy.

By 1881,

France had banned the use
of the chemical salicylic acid

in their wine,

after French chemists sounded
alarms about its toxicity.

Germany also banned
the chemical from its beer.

BLUM:
Some of the laboratories
in Europe,

taking advantage of
the new analytic techniques,

are starting to try
to get ahead of this.

"Can we detect it?"

Europe was ahead of us on that,

and they were particularly
interested in food analysis,

which Wiley found fascinating

and which he knew
was nonexistent

in the United States
at that time.

♪

NARRATOR:
In America,
powerful food manufacturers,

from J. Ogden Armour,

the leader of the massive
Chicago Meatpacking Trust,

to Asa Candler, the head of
the industry giant Coca-Cola,

faced no such prohibitions on
their use of chemical additives,

nor any regulation on divulging
ingredients on food labels.

By the end of the 19th century,

the American food supply was
rife with chemicals and fakes.

SCHLOSSER:
The United States was unique

among industrialized nations

about not having
food safety regulations.

So, you know, there were
all kinds of restrictions

on American food imports
in Europe,

because they didn't trust
the cleanliness of our food.

The idea of government
regulation,

which was anathema
to the oligarchs

and the robber barons
who owned this industry.

"Why should government
get in my way?

It has no right to interfere
in the way I do business."

People lied in advertising
just on a routine basis.

And there was
no regulation of that,

and people didn't even think
it should be discussed.

It was just a capitalist
marketplace

where the buyer beware,

and consumers were
completely unprotected.

BLUM:
And these are industries
that give a lot of money

to very specific people
in government

to make sure that
nothing does happen.

So, that's also a factor,

the ability of business
to buy government.

♪

NARRATOR:
Upon his return to the U.S.,

Wiley was more determined
than ever

to investigate the
American food industry

and to raise public awareness

about the prevalence
of fake food

and chemical adulterants.

With new state-of-the-art
lab equipment

he purchased in Europe,

Wiley began informal
investigations

into processed food,

perfecting his analytic skills
along the way.

Soon, he was able to detect
a host of chemical additives

that manufacturers
were routinely using

to preserve their food--

chemicals like formaldehyde,
sodium benzoate, and borax.

Wiley wasn't so much bothered

by the chemical preservatives
themselves,

but that the American public had
no idea what they were eating

and manufacturers had
no requirement to tell them.

SCHLOSSER:
Wiley believed
very strongly that,

"If you wanted to put borax
in your processed food,

"go ahead and do it,
just have on the label

"that it says borax, so
that people can make a choice.

"But if there's no way for you
to tell the difference visually,

"no way for you to tell
the difference by smell,

"then it's very easy
for companies to lie

and cheat and defraud."

NARRATOR:
It was this kind
of corporate fraud

that offended Wiley's
puritanical sense

of right and wrong,

and he was determined
to use his science

to raise public awareness.

BLUM:
If what you want to do is

have your science
make a difference,

then you've got to move it out
into the larger community.

He starts doing more
and more public outreach.

And you can actually see
at Purdue,

you know, he's talking
in churches,

he's talking to
different public groups.

"This is not acceptable.

"People are being cheated.

"We need to step in
and make this right.

"We need labels.

We need some kind
of regulation and standards."

♪

NARRATOR:
When it came time
to publish his findings

of fraud in the
honey and syrup industry,

Wiley learned quickly

how his work had touched a nerve
within the industry

and awakened powerful forces
allied against him.

BLUM:
Well, food manufacturers from
the beginning were outraged

by what Wiley was doing,
because a lot of this

had been a well-kept secret.

So, the makers of fake syrups,

the makers of fake honey,

all of them are instantly
angry about this.

There was actually a pamphlet
that circulated at one point

called "Wiley's Honey Lie"

to try to smear his reputation
as a scientist and as a person.

You know, all of these attacks
turn out to be very personal.

JUNOD:
I mean, the beekeepers
should have been delighted

that he had exposed

what they were trying
to compete with,

but instead all
they could see was

the bad publicity it was
bringing to honey overall.

And so he made enemies,

but he was also extremely
honest and frank.

And he had no subtlety
in the arts of, of negotiation.

NARRATOR:
The attacks only
emboldened Wiley.

"It was my first participation
in the fray,"

he would later write,
and he liked it.

But for the trustees
of Purdue University,

Wiley's outspoken advocacy was
unbecoming of its faculty,

and by 1882, it was clear

that he had worn out
his welcome on campus.

Wiley, as he would
the rest of his career,

found himself a lone voice

pitted against a powerful,
entrenched institution.

♪

The U.S. Department of
Agriculture was created

by President Lincoln in 1862,

when America was still largely
an agrarian nation.

Its primary mission was
to provide support

for American farmers.

In 1883, Wiley accepted a job
as the new chief

of the department's
Division of Chemistry--

a tiny office with a lab housed
in the basement of the agency.

Prior to Wiley's arrival,

the office had conducted only
small food-fraud investigations.

But Wiley had a bold new agenda
for the fledgling bureau--

a wide-scale study of
the state of American food.

BLUM:
By the time he got
to Washington, D.C.,

he's already made people angry.

He's ticked off
the honey producers,

he's recognized that there are
going to be scientists

with hostility
to some of his stands,

and he's a little
more battle-savvy

than you might have expected
when he comes in.

And as it turns out, he's going
to need to be very battle-savvy.

NARRATOR:
With more money and wider reach,

the chemist wasted little time
enacting his plan

to study American
food manufacturing.

His first target would be
the dairy industry,

including the quality and
healthfulness of milk--

one of the most important foods
in the American diet

and one of the most vulnerable
to widespread adulteration.

♪

KUMMER:
Very few cultures have had
the relationship to milk

that the United States has.

Part of it is we were
an agrarian economy

that was mostly dairy,

so almost every farm
had some dairy.

Fresh milk was what
you gave your children.

Milk always had this association
with purity and wholesomeness.

MARK KURLANSKY:
You know, for a very long time
in history,

it was fairly unusual
to drink milk

except for giving it to babies.

But in America, adults started
drinking milk much more

than in other places.

And they started
drinking it a lot.

But there was a problem

that milk,
if it wasn't very fresh,

would make you sick.

BLUM:
Milk production was becoming
increasingly corrupt,

because as you have
the rise of industries

which are clustered
around big urban areas,

you have people who are living
on a very small budget,

and they can't afford the
wonderful, farm-fresh milk.

And so the dairy industry
begins coming up

with creative ways
to make cheap milk.

♪

NARRATOR:
By the time Wiley began
his study in 1885,

dairy manufacturers had learned
that there was money to be made

by adulterating their product.

The standard formula was
a pint of warm water

for every quart of milk.

To rid the remaining liquid
of its bluish tint,

producers would add
whitening agents,

such as plaster of Paris
or chalk.

For customers expecting
a layer of cream on top,

they might add
something yellowish,

perhaps a dollop
of pureed calf brains.

♪

The dangers of milk,
particularly in cities,

were already well-known.

KURLANSKY:
In New York City,
they had this odd thing

where they had a lot of
breweries in the city.

And they would set up dairies
next to the brewery,

and you'd take a cow,

and you'd just chain it
for life to this spot.

And the leftover
from the brewery,

it was called swill.

It would sort of come through
on a trough.

And it was a very
poor quality of feed,

and there was no hygiene
at all in these places.

The cows basically died
standing there being milked.

(cow mooing)

BLUM:
These cows were so sickly,
their teeth rotted out.

Pretty soon
they couldn't even eat.

As the cow makes milk,

it has to be eating food
with nutrients in it.

And these swill dairies actually

were making milk that didn't
have a lot of the nutrients

that you would expect in milk.

♪

NARRATOR:
But the problem with dairy
products was not simply

a lack of nutrients
in swill milk.

Tenement houses packed
with millions of laborers

and the lack of proper
sewage and sanitation

made cities breeding grounds
for bacteria and viruses

that could be transmitted
by spoiled milk.

Milk purveyors were
often selling a product

laden with deadly bacteria.

Outbreaks of scarlet fever,
tuberculosis, and cholera

were common.

KURLANSKY:
Unrefrigerated milk sold in
the streets

in open buckets.

I mean, just every
imaginable opportunity

for all kinds of disease.

You know, it's like walking
around with a Petri dish,

and "What can we grow in here?"

♪

NARRATOR:
The government's testing of milk
revealed problems nationwide.

In one sample,
researchers found worms

wriggling in the bottom
of the bottles.

To cover up spoiled milk,

the industry routinely turned

to the deadly chemical
formaldehyde.

BLUM:
In the Civil War,

people realize that formaldehyde
is a great preservative.

It was the number-one embalming
fluid during the Civil War.

Dairymen start putting
formaldehyde into milk.

And as it turns out,
it's wonderful for them.

Apparently, it's slightly
sweetish in taste.

So, it would sweeten up
the taste of souring milk,

and then they would
sell this milk.

And so you actually
start seeing

in newspapers around the country

embalmed milk scandals,

because the milk starts killing
people, mostly children.

And the dairymen are
never prosecuted.

LOHMAN:
Thousands of kids were dying
every single year.

But, again, lacking regulation,
there were no laws being broken.

And the laws that were
being passed locally,

inspectors were just being
paid off by the dairy owners.

SCHLOSSER:
The example of milk
is especially appalling,

because milk is a food product

that's being heavily marketed
for children.

And to see corporate misbehavior
in that sphere

really angers Wiley.

NARRATOR:
Wiley's findings
about other dairy products

turned up widespread fraud
and deception.

Much of the butter that
scientists found on the market

had nothing to do
with dairy products

but was in fact
a much cheaper compound,

known as oleomargarine,

made from the unprocessed scraps
leftover by meatpackers.

One of the things that
the margarine producers

had been doing was to label
oleomargarine as butter.

You know, sometimes they'd call
it butterine,

but they would label it
as butter,

and they would just sell it.

Nothing on the package to say
it was anything but butter

except, of course,
it would be cheaper.

And so when they went in
and looked at this,

they were able to show
just how fraudulent that was.

NARRATOR:
Wiley published the results
of his study

in a government bulletin,
which made a persuasive case

for federal regulation
of the entire dairy industry.

Congress held hearings
but chose to focus its attention

only on regulating
oleomargarine.

The meatpackers struck back
immediately,

claiming the bill was

"a campaign made out
of a farmer's panic,"

and accusing Congress of
stifling scientific progress

in food manufacturing.

After weeks of hearings,
the Butter Act of 1886 passed.

But it was a tepid piece
of legislation,

imposing only a small tax
on oleomargarine

and doing nothing
to address the dangerous state

of milk production
across the country.

It was hardly the rebuke
that Wiley was looking for--

and proof that the food industry
had a stranglehold on Congress.

♪

(instruments clinking)

Wiley doubled down
on his efforts

to raise awareness
about impurities and fakery,

launching studies
into everything,

from baking powder, spices,
coffee, and canned vegetables.

♪

The results were startling.

♪

His coffee study revealed
large-scale fakery--

a product made mostly
of chicory, sawdust, and ash.

One study on pepper

revealed fillers of
charcoal and coconut shells.

Canned beans were loaded
with copper sulfate.

He published his reports

in a series of scientific
digests and federal papers,

which came to be known
as Bulletin 13.

BLUM:
So, the bulletins
went to Congress,

farmers would request them,

food advocates
would request them.

But it's all within this fairly
small community

of people who are kind of
in the know.

So, Wiley actually
starts realizing

that this is a problem.

Consumers are completely
in the dark about their food.

NARRATOR:
The chief chemist
was not content

with informing only
other scientists and lawmakers.

He understood that to get
Congress to act on anything,

he'd need to rouse
the American public.

LOHMAN:
He believed

that scientists shouldn't just
be talking to other scientists.

He actually hired
a science writer, um,

someone who is not
a chemist himself,

but who was very, very skilled

at taking highly technical,
scientific jargon-y reports

and writing them in a format

that a very wide array
of people could understand.

NARRATOR:
Alexander Wedderburn was
a writer and advocate

for the burgeoning
food safety movement

whom Wiley hoped could translate
his scientific findings

for the general public.

Far from the usual
dry government reports,

Wedderburn's write-up
of Wiley's results

was a take-no-prisoners account
of the food industry,

editorializing on what he called

the "reckless disregard"
for health

and outright "evil practices"
of many manufacturers.

BLUM:
I mean the thing is so hot that
Wiley is even saying to him,

"You know, I think
you went over the top here

"in-in the way that
you're kind of, you know,

calling the food industry
villains,"

and everything that
he does in this report.

While the report
was published widely

and intended to stir outrage,

Wiley's public advocacy
for food regulation

did not sit well with his bosses

at the Department
of Agriculture.

When it came time to publish the
next installment of Bulletin 13,

the agency secretary,
Julius Morton,

threatened to suspend
the whole study,

and he fired Wedderburn.

♪

In addition to making powerful
enemies in the food industry,

Wiley was now facing resistance
from within his own ranks.

JUNOD:
Morton in particular

became suspicious of Wiley.

Wiley was getting to a place

where he was getting frustrated,
his budget was getting cut.

His requests for supplies,
for goodness sake,

were being either delayed
or denied.

That shows that your superiors

are not valuing
the work you're doing.

They're undermining it in the
most humiliating ways possible,

 
I would say.

And I think he was reaching
a point in his life

that he was questioning
the effectiveness

of what he was doing.

(pen scratching)

NARRATOR:
In 1893, Wiley confided
in his journal

that he was feeling depressed.

His work had been
the central focus of his life.

But as his bosses
stymied his research,

his career seemed to be
foundering.

That same year he lost his
mother Lucinda,

and shortly after,
his father Preston,

leaving him feeling
adrift and alone.

"I was plunged at once
out of my long boyhood,"

he noted gloomily.

Wiley was middle-aged at
the turn of the 20th century,

and he was single.

When he moved to D.C.,
he had moved in

with a family that was
renting out a room,

and he was still there.

And then one day he walks
into the library at U.S.D.A.,

and there's this beautiful
young librarian

named Anna Kelton,

and he just goes head over heels
as soon as he sees her.

She is 30 years
younger than him.

He starts courting her.

Eventually he asks her
to marry him,

and she says no.

And, in a very sweet way,

keeps her picture in his watch,
even so,

but, you know, sort of
mourns a lost chance

and goes back
to his bachelor life.

(cannons boom)

♪

NARRATOR:
Wiley's professional life and
his pursuit of food regulation

would get an unexpected boost
in 1898,

after American troops
were sent into Cuba

during the Spanish-American war.

The war was a test

for the big meatpacking
companies like Armour and Swift,

who'd won lucrative government
contracts to feed the military.

The companies were paid
to ship fresh cuts of beef

and canned meat to the
soldiers on the front lines.

It wasn't long before rumors

about rancid beef

and canned meat reeking
of toxic chemicals

began cropping up in newspapers.

WATSON:
When it gets down there,
one Army medic

opens one of the cans and says,
"It smells like a human body

"that's rotted and putrefied

but had been preserved
with formaldehyde."

There's this reek of
formaldehyde

and industrial chemicals

coming out of the beef,

and eventually, the Army does
a very reluctant investigation

and concludes that
everything's fine.

And this blows up in their face.

NARRATOR:
The public was outraged.

And as news of the tainted
rations spread,

the military cover-up
earned the nickname

"the Embalmed Beef scandal."

KUMMER:
If you damage young men,
the flower of America,

you get into trouble.

It's young men who are in the
employ of the U.S. government,

and here it's being
defrauded by industry.

It's easy to marshal
the populace's outrage.

♪

NARRATOR:
After the war,
Congress held hearings

on the tainted meat.

The star witness was New York
governor Theodore Roosevelt,

who had been on
the frontlines in Cuba

when he saw for himself the
shoddy state of the Army rations

that even the flinty outdoorsman
couldn't stomach.

LOHMAN:
He said that he saw one of his
men throwing away his rations,

a can of meat,

and Roosevelt asked him
why he wasn't eating it.

The man said he cannot.

And Roosevelt picks up
the can of food

and tries to eat it himself
and finds that he cannot.

BLUM:
He looks at the can,
it's full of green slime

and other... I mean, it was
really a disgusting thing,

and he ends up saying, you know,

he would rather have
eaten his hat

than eaten these
military supplies.

♪

NARRATOR:
Congress asked Wiley
to investigate.

He and his team of chemists
gathered samples of canned beef

 
from military rations

and store shelves
across the country.

♪

Every can they opened

contained a watery mix
of the cheapest cuts of meat.

Meat scraps were encased in a
thick layer fat,

and Wiley's analysis revealed

that much of his sample
was already decomposed.

But to his surprise,

the research turned up no traces

of the suspected chemical
additive formaldehyde.

LOHMAN:
He finds nothing
other than salt.

He did say that the meat
was not of great quality.

It was tough, it was stringy,
it was fatty,

it was gristly,
it was disgusting.

"So, is this what we should
be feeding our troops,

who are fighting
American battles?"

♪

NARRATOR:
Wiley testified that

the meatpackers used the
cheapest and oldest cuts of meat

 
as a way to save money.

The men who were
sickened by the food

were suffering
from bacterial infections

transmitted by rancid beef
made worse by the Cuban heat.

Wiley's findings
about canned meat

only added fuel to his crusade
to hold industry accountable.

MARION NESTLE:
The question is what advantage
was it to industry

to produce unsafe food,
and this was in the early 1900s.

The food industry is not
a social service

or a public health agency.

It's a business.

NARRATOR:
Perhaps Wiley's
most shocking discovery

was that the canned meat that
had sickened soldiers in Cuba

was almost exactly what
U.S. consumers were finding

on their grocery shelves
every day.

BLUM:
The 19th century is known

as the century of the
great American stomachache.

The diet is so bad that
everyone is sick at some level.

This is actually the state
of the American food supply,

and the American beef industry
really doesn't care.

And, in fact, nothing happens.

Even though this is
this huge scandal,

it has no actual effect
on meat processing.

It does raise awareness.

A lot more
American consumers realize

that their canned meat
is really horrible.

♪

NARRATOR:
By 1900,

Wiley had become the country's
foremost food chemist,

perfecting techniques to
identify a long list

of chemical additives

that the typical
American household

was only just becoming aware
it was ingesting.

Preservatives like formaldehyde
in their pork,

salicylic acid in canned fruit,

borax in their country hams,

and a host of other
toxic chemicals could be found

in almost every plate of food

on dinner tables
across the country.

But after more than a decade

of raising alarm bells about
the need for food regulations,

56-year-old Harvey Wiley
had grown restless

with a Congress
seemingly unwilling

to do anything about it.

BLUM:
The first proposed legislation
to regulate food

starts popping up in Congress
in the early 1890s,

and it all fails.

It's stymied largely
by senators and congressmen

who are taking a lot of money

from the food and
chemical industry

to make sure it's stymied.

There's no pressure on Congress

because the public doesn't know,

and if the public doesn't know,
the public doesn't care.

NARRATOR:
The committee rooms
of Congress, Wiley wrote,

"were jammed with attorneys
for the industries--

"a formidable lobby
of influential men

who would stop at nothing
to kill legislation."

Wiley realized that in order to
rouse the public into action,

he first needed to demonstrate
the health dangers

of unregulated food production
and adulteration

with his own scientific data.

The only way to achieve this,
Wiley believed,

was to test these chemicals
on human beings

and document their effects.

JUNOD:
Wiley was a chemist.

He thought that chemistry
could solve everything.

He needed physiological data to
show that there was an effect,

and as a trained physician,

he was looking for the physical
effects on people's health,

on their bodies,
on their systems.

His plan was simple--

assemble a group of volunteers,

feed them
three square meals a day

with food that
he selectively poisoned

with commonly used
preservatives,

and then observe.

Wiley went to Congress
to make a personal appeal

for experiments
that he was now calling

hygienic table trials.

I love that name.

It's so Victorian, right?

And I don't think that Congress
actually knew what it was.

It was hygienic table trials.

What could sound
more benign than that?

NARRATOR:
In 1902, much to his surprise,

Congress agreed to fund
Wiley's human experiments,

granting him $5,000
to get started.

Now all the chemist had to do
was find willing test subjects.

JUNOD:
Getting volunteers

was sort of a crapshoot
early on,

because they didn't know
what they were going to find.

Wiley, I think he had a general
idea of what he was going to do,

but the logistics, and
there were a lot of details

that were yet to be worked out.

NARRATOR:
Wiley began recruiting
participants

through ads in
government newsletters.

His ideal recruits
were robust young men

with a sense of adventure
and strong stomachs.

As compensation for
participating in the study,

Wiley promised subjects
free food

and five dollars a month.

To his delight,

the response was overwhelming,

as young civil servants
eagerly answered

the call to act
as his guinea pigs.

He was getting letters
from all over the country.

There was one, "I have a stomach
that can take anything.

Bring it on," basically.

So, he was not really having too
much trouble with recruits.

He was surprised to have people
willing to travel,

you know, to take part
in the trials.

WATSON:
I mean, think young bachelors
on a government salary.

The idea of not having to pay
for any of your food

does sound a little bit
attractive.

So you got them from a, you
know, saving-money perspective.

You've got them from a
five-bucks-a-month perspective,

which is not inconsiderable
at the time.

And then plus they're
young men in their 20s,

so the idea of
doing stupid stuff

because it's important and cool

actually has a
certain ring to it.

NARRATOR:
Wiley settled on 12 volunteers.

In exchange for
the food and pay,

the men had to agree

to eat only what was
being served by Dr. Wiley,

submit to a battery of physical
examinations after each meal,

and promise not to sue
the federal government

if they were injured
in the process.

BLUM:
I mean there's
all these catches.

They have to agree to be
weighed and blood tested

and urine tested
and stool tested,

and, um, you now,
fill out all these reports

and be checked by doctors
and poked and prodded

and they can't have snacks,
and they can't go to a bar,

and they can only eat

what the Agriculture Department
gives them.

NARRATOR:
To stage his study,

Wiley built an experimental
restaurant in his basement lab,

complete with a kitchen,
dining room,

and a designated cook,
Chef Perry.

He planned to introduce
one chemical additive

in varying amounts to each meal,

as he studied its physical
effects on the volunteers

over several weeks.

But Wiley quickly ran
into a snag.

How would he procure food

that wasn't already laced
with chemicals?

WATSON:
So, the first thing
they have to do

is that they have to get food
that isn't adulterated.

He goes to, for example,
bean manufacturers

and talks to them about
how they do the canning

and heavily watches it to make
sure there's no adulteration

so everybody's getting
exactly the same beans.

He talks to the
actual milk producers,

cheese producers,
butter producers.

So all of these ingredients
are coming in

and they're super pure,

so that to the extent possible

he can absolutely control
for just the thing he's testing.

 
♪

Wiley's dining room officially
opened in November 1902.

With a nod to his own
darkly comic nature,

Wiley propped a sign next
to the entrance that read,

"None but the brave
can eat the fare."

♪

First on Wiley's list of
chemicals to test was borax,

a popular industrial food
preservative

that was more commonly used
as a cleaning product.

With a table set
with a variety of dishes

typical of many American
households,

Wiley decided to
disguise the borax

by lacing the food with
varying amounts of the additive.

LOHMAN:
Probably one of the most
unwholesome ways to preserve

was the use of borax.

It was discovered that when
borax was applied

to meat and also to vegetables,

it reacts with the proteins
in a way that firms them up,

so meat that has become
sort of loose and rotten,

or leafy vegetables that have
become sort of wilted

tighten and crisp
and become firm again.

They maintain this
appearance of being fresh.

♪

NARRATOR:
Throughout the study,

Wiley needed to find new ways
to hide the additive,

as the men began to notice a
metallic flavor to their meals.

Sometimes he hid the borax
in the milk,

and at others, in the butter.

♪

Twice a week, the men
were examined by a doctor,

and required to collect
their own feces,

which were analyzed.

Their perspiration was tested
for traces of borax.

To test whether borax
affected respiration,

the men would breathe
through a lime-water solution

for three hours at a time.

LOHMAN:
Wiley didn't necessarily know

what would be
important information

and what wouldn't be,
so he collected all the data.

He knew it wasn't
a perfect study,

but this is the beginning of
these sort of clinical trials,

and they're still
figuring it out.

Some of them get borax,
some of them don't,

and then they see what happens.

JUNOD:
We can't control
for how much a given chemical,

much less the mix of chemicals

that someone can consume in a
day, a week, a month, or a year.

So, what Wiley was trying to do
was narrow this down

and methodically measure what's
going in and what's coming out.

♪

NARRATOR:
Not long after the study began,

newspaper reporters caught wind
of Wiley's exploits

in the basement of the
Department of Agriculture.

JUNOD:
A lot of people have asked about

who the people participating
in the trials are.

Wiley took great pains
to keep them quiet.

They themselves were told

that they were not supposed
to self-identify

as part of the trials.

But it did become... I mean,
the curiosity on the part

of the public and the reporters
and everything else,

you know, sort of dogged these
men to know more about them.

NARRATOR:
The most persistent reporter

was the "Washington Post's"
George Rothwell Brown,

who had befriended Chef Perry

and plied him for information.

Soon, colorful accounts
about a quirky scientist

and his band of intrepid
gastronomic volunteers

began cropping up in the "Post."

WATSON:
George Rothwell Brown
gets interested in this

because you have
12 young men, brave and true,

eating poison for the people
of the United States.

Wiley doesn't want this
to get out too much.

I mean,
he wants attention to it,

but he wants the
right kind of attention.

He wants this to be dealt
with seriously.

So he starts trying
to shut down Brown.

Brown starts creating stories
just to fill in the blanks.

My favorite was one,
I think it was the borax one,

in which he was saying that, uh,

they had discovered that
all of the test subjects,

their skin became much more
beautiful, rosy, flushed

thanks to the borax,
which was completely not true.

And then the Agriculture
Department was inundated

from letters from people who
wanted to know the right formula

to improve the beautiful
look of their skin.

♪

NARRATOR:
Brown's stories went national

and sparked the
public's imagination

by bestowing the entire group

with their everlasting
nickname--

the Poison Squad.

Though he worried
the tabloid stories

would undermine
his scientific pursuit,

Wiley conceded that,
for the first time,

the nation was talking
about food safety.

WATSON:
I mean, they refer
to him as Old Borax.

He's the one whose sitting there

and, you know, running
these guys into the ground,

and "Ah, go back
and pick up your hair,"

and, you know, "You didn't
give your urine samples,"

and so forth and so on.

Later on,
when he starts realizing

the value of publicity,
he actually starts getting

more directly involved in it
and giving interviews.

And I think part of Wiley,
this public part was like,

"Oh well, no, this is
serious work we're doing,"

but the other part of him
was like,

"Yes, Poison Squad,
get that name out there,

"everyone's going to be
familiar with it,

it's got a good ring to it,"
because, again,

he knew that the changes
weren't going to happen

inside the government
without the public pressure.

NARRATOR:
Increasingly,
Wiley and his Poison Squad

were becoming the public face
of a new movement for pure food

that had been brewing within
progressive organizations

across the country.

KUMMER:
He was very shrewd
in his choice of sample

in order to demonstrate
these scandals.

You know, there's something
Barnum, P.T. Barnum-esque,

except he was fighting
the good fight.

SCHLOSSER:
The Poison Squad

and all the elaborate rituals
around it,

from the menu to
the slogan on the wall,

it was great public relations;
it was flamboyant.

♪

NARRATOR:
Before Wiley published
a single result of his study,

the Poison Squad had become
a cultural phenomenon,

and their exploits--
real or imagined-- legendary.

They inspired cartoons,
poems, limericks,

and even a minstrel song.

LOHMAN:
People loved the concept

of the Poison Squad
and, I mean, who wouldn't?

It's, like, all these young men

performing experiments
on themselves,

poisoning themselves.

The whole thing is fascinating.

There were like joke menus
in the newspaper,

where every other course
was borax,

and Vaudevillian songs
about them.

One of them was "The Ballad
of the Poison Squad."

"We break our fast
on match-head consommé,

"and we eat our
Prussic acid stew,

"and we eat the deadliest
of deadlies,

and we survive, because
we're the Poison Squad."

♪

NARRATOR:
Despite the media circus that
was swirling the study,

Wiley's human trials on borax

were turning up
troubling results.

As Wiley increased the dosage
of borax over time,

the men began to show signs of
serious intestinal illness,

including vomiting.

♪

The cumulative health effects
of the preservative

were definitive in Wiley's mind,

and he shared his findings
in an official report.

The country was transfixed
by descriptions

of once healthy young men
laid waste by borax poisoning.

Only half of the participants,
Wiley pointed out,

had managed to last through
the final round of testing,

with the rest dropping out
due to illness.

KUMMER:
There were all sorts
of bad effects,

and by being able to add
the poison himself,

he could show the public,

"Look what happens in these
strapping, healthy young men

who lose muscle mass,

who can't gain weight,
who can't concentrate."

LOHMAN:
They would get nauseous,
they would vomit.

They would lose weight.

They were absolutely miserable.

They had headaches, they had
some uncontrolled trembling.

It wasn't killing them,
no one was dropping dead,

but the, but the exposure to
the borax was making them sick.

 
(utensils clinking)

NARRATOR:
Wiley speculated that
the dosages over time

had affected the volunteers'
kidneys and other organs,

leading to what he called

"disturbances of appetite,
of digestion, and of health."

More research, it seemed,
would be needed.

But for now, the data was having
Wiley's intended effect--

the public was taking notice.

I think one of the reasons that
this issue resonated so strongly

is that everybody was
eating this food,

and there was no way
to differentiate

something that was wholesome

from something
that was adulterated.

Particularly when you're talking
about milk, butter, jam,

things that seem so ordinary,

to find out that they aren't
what they're advertised as being

 
is shocking.

♪

LOHMAN:
It led, then, the general public

to begin to question
what was in their food,

and I think more importantly,

question these
large corporations--

if they were deserving of trust,

if they really were
doing the right thing,

if they really did care

whether or not they were
hurting the general public.

NARRATOR:
The results also had a
great effect on Wiley himself.

Long an advocate
for accurate labeling,

the data he was collecting were
beginning to convince him

that no level of chemical
adulteration was safe.

"The chemical and physiological
data were vast," Wiley wrote.

"But the lesson they taught
was unmistakable:

preservatives used in food
are harmful to health."

JUNOD:
Wiley started out

cautiously optimistic

that he would find
some levels of safety.

One of the problems
that he discovered,

there were concerns
about the cumulative effect.

You can't label that

if you eat this particular
product every day for six weeks,

 
you could have these symptoms.

So, Wiley's approach to labeling
had to be abandoned.

He said, "I was converted by
my own research," you know?

It made him realize
that it wasn't just enough

to say, "We should label,"

that there were some things
that really should be

taken out of the food supply.

♪

(people chattering)

NARRATOR:
By late 1902, Wiley's efforts

to force Congress to act
on food regulation

seemed to be paying off.

A new food safety bill
was up for debate,

and hearings were scheduled
in the Senate and the House,

with Wiley to testify
as the lead witness in both.

The chemist came out swinging
hard at the food industry,

calling for greater regulation
of chemicals in food,

for the protection
of the American public.

"The consumer is entitled
to know the nature

of the substances he purchases,"
Wiley proclaimed,

"and to be assured that their
food is pure and wholesome."

It didn't take long for the food
manufacturers to strike back,

and the attacks
would be personal,

portraying Wiley
as a press-hungry radical

opposed to business.

Anyone who took on
these companies

were subject to
extraordinary attacks.

You know, Wiley was described
as anti-business

simply because he objected

to dangerous adulterants
in food.

JUNOD:
So, what we're seeing is

industry taking
a backdoor approach

to trying to cut Wiley off
at the knees.

This sort of shadow industry had

a whole campaign
and a whole plan

on how to begin
to undermine Wiley's ability

to regulate these
chemical preservatives.

NARRATOR:
In the halls of Congress
and in the press,

almost every facet
of the food industry

readily shared their outrage
with Wiley's crusade.

The manufacturers association

was joined by
the dairy industry,

which depended on formaldehyde
to salvage sour milk;

the baking industry,
which relied on aluminum

in baking powder;

the bleached flour industry;

and the increasingly powerful
chemical products manufacturers.

"Dr. Wiley seems to thirst
deeply for notoriety,"

declaimed one industry insider.

"He is happiest
when looking complacently

into the horror-stricken eyes

of women he has just scared
half to death."

An editorial in the
"California Fruit Grower" asked,

"Let somebody muzzle
the yellow chemist

who would destroy
our appetites."

(cheering)

Wiley expected the backlash
from industry,

but he was disappointed
to discover

that even the new president,

the progressive lion and the
trust-buster Theodore Roosevelt,

was resigned to
the failure of Congress

to pass any food legislation.

"It will take more
than my recommendation

to get the law passed,"
Roosevelt explained.

"I understand there is
some very stubborn opposition."

BLUM:
Wiley really hoped
that Roosevelt

was going to be
the president of his dreams.

He had never been able

to get a president interested
in his food stuff--

you know, no matter how
high profile it was,

presidents ignored it,

and Roosevelt was known
as a progressive.

DALTON:
But he was leading
a Republican Party

with very entrenched opposition

to any kind of food regulation,

and his best friend was
Senator Henry Cabot Lodge,

who was in the
manufacturers' back pocket.

BLUM:
It's obvious, one,

that Roosevelt was making a lot
of political calculations,

and, two, that he is

very close to some of these
wealthy food manufacturers

and really doesn't want to be
disruptive to their business.

And he makes a lot of choices
to support the industry

over Wiley's more
purist position.

♪

NARRATOR:
Without Roosevelt's backing,

the Food Bill of 1902
fizzled out in Congress

and was never even
brought up for a vote.

The big food manufacturers
had won.

The government was being
very conservative,

because they were continuing
to be in the pockets

of these corporations
and these trusts.

There were lobbyists
a hundred years ago,

just like there are today.

BLUM:
Wiley, he's a very
stubborn person,

and he has this one goal,

and he just is not going
to give up on it.

What he eventually does is
he drops back

and decides that
he needs to get better allies.

He needs to use
more effective ways

of getting this message out.

(carriage clattering)

NARRATOR:
By 1904, Wiley was rethinking

his approach to
pure food regulation,

after his defeat
at the hands of big industry,

and he realized that
a meaningful food bill

would not come by the shocking
Poison Squad results alone.

Fortunately, a sense of outrage

was building amongst
American progressives,

and Wiley soon learned
he had powerful new allies

within the burgeoning
women's rights movement.

DALTON:
If you think of women
as the angels of the house,

which Victorians did,
I think it's legitimate

that women got into
the political sphere

as advocates of their...
protecting their children,

protecting their home.

They're the ones
buying the food.

They're the ones charged with
taking care of their families.

So this is information
that is relevant to them.

And women at the turn of the
century are also organizing

in many ways big and small.

DALTON:
Women really were
a formidable force.

Women's reform network
comes on the scene

at the time that Harvey Wiley
is thinking,

"I need more change
in public opinion,

"I need more press,

"I need more politicians
on my side,"

and so they're natural allies
for him.

KUMMER:
Wiley is very shrewd
in understanding

that these women want
confidence in industry.

They want to be able
to buy foods

that aren't going
to contaminate their family,

and they want power.

It's a time of
progressive movements.

NARRATOR:
Wiley hit the road,

speaking to women's groups
across the country,

rallying them to join
his crusade for food safety

and to lift their voices
and be heard.

JUNOD:
The networking among women was
very important influence.

He also discovered he kind of
has a knack for speaking,

that preacher influence
comes out a little bit.

And remember,
he's speaking truth,

truth sometimes to power,
but also truth to women.

His secretary at one point said

that when he came in
in the mornings

dressed in a top hat
and coattails,

she was pretty sure he was going
to talk to women's groups

about the need for a law.

NARRATOR:
While speaking
in Cranston, New Jersey,

Wiley met a fiery suffragist
named Alice Lakey,

who introduced him
to whole new network

of women's organizations
concerned about food safety.

Together Lakey and Wiley

ignited a nationwide
letter-writing campaign

in favor of food regulation,

with a message aimed squarely

at members of Congress
and the president.

She opened doors for him

with some of
the national figures.

And this is in this period

where he realizes
he really does need an army.

Wiley wrote about the fact
that, you know,

women couldn't vote but
they were still able,

through organization
and industry,

to have important
political power.

He thought that
they could accomplish

whatever they wanted to
in the end.

He was a huge admirer
of the sort of effective,

powerful, undaunted quality
of these women's groups.

♪

NARRATOR:
In no time,
influential reform groups

like the National
Consumers League

and the General Federation
of Women's Clubs

lent their voices to
Wiley's crusade for pure food,

recognizing food safety

as part of their larger
progressive agenda.

DALTON:
You'd have reformers saying,

"We need pure milk," or
"We need to stop the bosses

"from corrupting the process,
from stealing votes.

"We need to defend
the public good

and have municipal ownership
of water, sewer, and subways."

KUMMER:
It's the rise of trade unions.

It's the rise of saying,

"We now have an enormous
class difference."

Economic inequality starts

in the first Gilded Age
in the 1890s,

when all these progressive
movements are taking root,

because the consolidation
of money and power

in the hands of men is something

that women and trade unions
start to fight.

So Wiley understood that here
was a pocket of protest

that he could ally himself with
profitably.

SCHLOSSER:
Wiley, one of
the most important people

in the pure food movement,

he was a part of a bigger
movement at that period,

looking for hygiene and
cleanliness and wholesomeness

in all kinds of aspects
of American life.

NARRATOR:
The pure food movement
received a boost

when Fannie Farmer, one of

the most prominent progressive
voices empowering women

and a leader in
the emerging movement

known as domestic science,
joined the cause.

Farmer was the country's most
prominent cookbook author

and when she turned her
attention to pure food,

her devoted audience--
largely mothers and homemakers--

 
listened carefully.

She alerted her readers
to the dangers

of "borax, salicylic acid,
potassium chromate,

and carbonate of soda,"

precisely the substances
that also concerned Wiley.

Fannie Farmer really promoted
the domestic science movement.

She included nutritional
information in her book.

So even if you couldn't go
to her cooking school

or go to college and get
a degree in domestic science,

if you read "The Boston
Cooking School Cook Book,"

you were gleaning
some of that information.

BLUM:
Boston School of Cooking,
Fanny Farmer book,

it's like an education
in chemistry.

It walks you through the
chemical elements in food.

JUNOD:
They were putting out
kitchen chemistry sets,

literally telling women
to go buy prussic acid

to test the products

that they were bringing
into their home.

They were simple tests, sort of,

but the chemistry behind them
was pretty sophisticated.

NARRATOR:
It wasn't long before Wiley's
proselytizing for pure food

attracted the attention of
enterprising industry marketers,

who, rather than fight
against the movement,

saw an opportunity
to capitalize on its message.

Henry J. Heinz,
an industry titan,

saw early the power
of pure food branding.

BLUM:
Henry J. Heinz,

he also thought the tide
was turning on this.

He felt that there was
new interest in safer food,

and that his company could and
should take advantage of this.

So it wasn't as if he was
just like, you know,

"Let me do my good deed
for the day."

He saw a real reason for it.

The thing that crystallized it
for him was ketchup.

LOHMAN:
They came up with a formula

that was much more acidic
and included much more vinegar,

and that made the ketchup
shelf stable.

Their formula was
also more delicious

as well as not containing
any adulterants,

and that's how
they advertised it.

They used the word "pure"
again and again.

Pure, pure, pure, pure.

The people packing their
ketchup, they describe them

as "manicured maidens
clad in white."

The public, because
of their awareness

of the horrors of
adulterated food,

now they wanted food
that was labeled pure

and sanitary, food made
in the cleanest of factories.

SCHLOSSER:
The more forward-looking
companies

realized in so many ways

how government regulation
would benefit them.

You know, you could make
an argument

that far from being a radical,

what Wiley was doing was
rationalizing business

and bringing it
into the 20th century

and away from this sort of
rogue, 19th-century,

anything-goes,
corrupt model of doing business.

 
♪

NARRATOR:
By now, Wiley himself

was in the midst of
a personal transformation

from enterprising
government chemist

to pure food evangelist.

BLUM:
He becomes such a visible figure
in this fight

that he's both a lightning rod

for everyone that hates
the fight,

and he's beloved
by American newspapers

and the American public.

And so he gets a kind of
political armor.

He was so politically formidable

that they did not want
to mess with him,

so he starts becoming that.

He really starts this transition

from being a chemist
who is arguing a point

to a political figure.

And that, again, is going
to work for him and against him.

 
♪

NARRATOR:
While Wiley's popularity
may have insulated him

from political
and industry attacks,

he knew that the greatest weapon
in his fight for pure food

was his scientific data.

By the spring of 1905,

he and his team were preparing
to publish the results

of another Poison Squad
experiment.

This one centered on
another common preservative,

salicylic acid.

KUMMER:
Salicylic acid is an acid,

and so it has antioxidant
effects for food,

it keeps oxygen out of food,

it keeps bacteria out of food,

because it kills them,
because it's an acid.

So that's one way
of retarding spoilage.

(utensils clinking)

NARRATOR:
The average bottle of wine

sold in the United States
at the turn of the century

contained almost two grams
of salicylic acid--

and beer nearly as much.

Almost immediately,

Poison Squad members selected
to receive the preservative

began reporting its ill effects.

One complained of a
"pronounced" feeling of hunger,

even though he was eating
a normal dinner;

another described

"very severe burning pains
in the stomach."

Almost all of the men described

some degree of
intestinal distress.

Based on these results,
Wiley concluded

salicylic acid was one of the
worst of all preservatives

currently in use
in American food products.

It's brand new.

They... you put it
into all kinds

of food and drink products.

Except that of course

it causes the lining of the
gastrointestinal tract to bleed,

 
and you're not telling anyone

how much of it you're putting
in your product,

so people are really
getting a high dose

of something that causes
G.I. problems.

NARRATOR:
His report was picked up
by the national newspapers,

and the Poison Squad was again
stoking public outrage.

But despite the outcry,
the new report did little

to break the hold of
industry lobbyists on Congress,

where food legislation
remained stalled.

♪

By 1905, it was becoming
clear to Wiley

that the path to food
legislation

lay beyond the many bought
politicians on Capitol Hill.

And he chose instead
to focus his energy

on pressuring the White House.

But Wiley's unbending approach

had made him few allies
in the administration,

especially with
President Roosevelt.

WATSON:
Teddy Roosevelt's progressive,

but he's also a pragmatist,
and Wiley's not.

Wiley's an absolutist,
he's an evangelist.

He was vexatious.

He was unwilling to compromise.

LOHMAN:
One of the things Roosevelt
disagreed with him on

was saccharin.

(dog barking)

Roosevelt had been
prescribed saccharin

by his doctor.

It's thought that
his doctor believed

that Roosevelt was
probably pre-diabetic,

so the doctor suggested

substituting saccharin.

Wiley was really
not behind saccharin.

He didn't really believe
in its safety.

So when Wiley spoke out against
saccharin,

Roosevelt said, you know, "My
doctor prescribes that for me.

A fool would say
saccharin is bad for you."

And Wiley is pained
by these moments

in his relationship
with Roosevelt,

but also Roosevelt can be
very unforgiving sometimes too.

 
♪

NARRATOR:
Despite his tense relationship
with Roosevelt,

Wiley was convinced that,

coupled with his scientific data

and growing army of
progressive pure food allies,

especially those from
the women's movement,

he might be able to sway
the reluctant reformer.

DALTON:
Theodore Roosevelt could see
the writing on the wall,

which is that women could vote
for president

in some western states,

and he saw that coming,

women were going
to get the vote.

So they did count,
they counted a lot.

They're not just voters,

they're publicists,
they're lobbyists,

they're married to people who
vote, and they're a moral voice.

 
♪

NARRATOR:
Wiley helped organize
a delegation

that included the suffragist
Alice Lakey,

representatives from Heinz,

and other progressive leaders,

to meet with President Roosevelt
at the White House.

They carried a
message of support

for pure food legislation

from men and women
across the country

and hoped to show the president

that the tide was turning
against unregulated industry.

There's been more and more
and more controversy--

largely generated by
Wiley and his allies--

and Roosevelt decided
he is going to

at least make a recommendation
to Congress.

And so in December of 1905,

he puts support
for a food and drug law

into his message to Congress
at the end of the year.

And that was the first time
since he had become president

that he went really publicly
on the record and said, "Yes,

this is starting to be
an untenable situation."

NARRATOR:
With Roosevelt's support,

Wiley was more optimistic
than ever

that after two decades
of sounding alarm bells,

the time was finally right for
the passage of a pure food law.

 
♪

On the morning
of February 10, 1906,

as Wiley was busily preparing

for the coming battle
in Congress,

the American public awoke
to the shocking headlines

about a scandal within
the meatpacking industry.

Newspapers were filled

with stomach-churning details
of the filthy conditions

of Chicago's largest
beef companies,

as described in a damning
new book called "The Jungle"

by novelist Upton Sinclair.

Sinclair had spent nearly
two months working undercover,

documenting the inhuman
labor practices

and unsanitary conditions
on factory floors--

stories of rat infestations,

widespread contaminated
and diseased carcasses,

and even of human appendages
finding their way

into processed meat
and onto grocery store shelves.

"The Jungle" was not written

as an argument
for safe-food legislation.

It was written as an argument
on behalf of worker's rights,

but it had unintended
consequences.

There were a number of scenes
in the novel

about rats, you know,
getting into the meat

and being turned into sausage,

about how filthy
the conditions were.

And Americans were
eating a lot of meat.

There were stories of people
distracting the inspector

who was there to check
for tuberculosis in cows,

so that cows that
they knew were tubercular

could just be passed through
and end up in the cooling cars.

BLUM:
The book describes

mold-covered meat that's washed
off in a bath of borax

and then goes back
into the food supply.

The walls are scummy with
rotting meat that has dried

and blood spatter and
germs are growing everywhere.

LOHMAN:You have the fresh cuts of meat

on down to, like,
the pieces of meat,

on down to the scraps of
the pieces of the spoiled meat,

and they're all going into
different products

and being canned and sold
to different populations

who are completely ignorant

of what is or isn't
going into their food.

(cows mooing)

NARRATOR:
It was a portrait
of an industry run amok,

an extremely worrying depiction

of America's food supply
that transfixed the country.

"I aimed for the public's
heart," Sinclair recalled.

"And by accident,
I hit it in the stomach."

KUMMER:
It's Upton Sinclair who stirred
the public outrage about it.

People were outraged
at the human hands and legs

that got ground up
into their food.

They were grossed out.

BLUM:
Now you have the American public
wondering if they're cannibals

because of the
shoddy meat production.

KUMMER:
Upton Sinclair's
showing the reader

what it felt like and
what it looked like--

the horror, the graphicness,
the gruesomeness of the scenes.

NARRATOR:
For President Roosevelt,

"The Jungle"
confirmed suspicions

of the canned meat industry,

which he had held since his time
in the Spanish-American war.

SCHLOSSER:
One of the reasons that Teddy
Roosevelt was so receptive

to "The Jungle" is he had
personal, firsthand memory

of really disgusting food being
sold to the U.S. government

and served to his troops.

So he had a reservoir of anger
at the meatpacking industry,

and reading "The Jungle"
just seemed to confirm

his own instincts about
these shoddy business practices.

 
♪

NARRATOR:
As letters and
telegrams demanding action

poured into the White House,

Roosevelt dispatched
his own team to Chicago

to investigate the dangerous
conditions Sinclair wrote about.

Sinclair went and
did this research,

and when you read it, just
like the swill milk exposés,

it sounds too horrific
to be believed.

But then Roosevelt sends people
in to see what's happening,

and they come back,
and their report says

"Sinclair was absolutely right.

These exact same things
were happening."

BLUM:
And when Roosevelt's team
went out,

they did not find people falling
into the lard production,

but there was one, this
horrifying scene they described

in which the cow falls

into one of the latrines
used by the workers,

and they just pull it out,
chop it up, and send...

they don't even wash it off, it
just goes right into... I mean,

it was really
a horrifying report.

NARRATOR:
A summary of the president's
report hit the "New York Times,"

confirming what Harvey Wiley had
been saying for a long time--

that the American food industry
was rotten to its core.

♪

By early 1906, Wiley could see

that the debate over food safety
had reached a boiling point.

Upton Sinclair's writing

had been the final spark
Wiley had been hoping for,

igniting a truly
national conversation

on the critical need
for food safety.

The public outrage
over "The Jungle,"

and the president's backing
of a food bill,

gave him the momentum he needed.

BLUM:
He gets a lot of letters

and telegrams and
messages of support.

He knows that people are
starting to be more engaged.

And so he just believes,

"This is not the moment
to give up.

You just keep pushing
one more time," and he does.

NARRATOR:
In the back rooms
of Capitol Hill,

Wiley pounced on
his congressional allies

to hold hearings
on the pure food bill.

Industry-friendly
congressmen argued

that regulation would be
the death knell for business,

while others warned
a ban on preservatives

would lead to untold deaths
by contaminated food.

Wiley defended the bill
against its critics

in two straight days
of dramatic testimony.

"There are hundreds and
thousands of our citizens,"

Wiley declaimed,

"who do not wish to use
these chemicals in their foods.

"It is the consumers,
and not the producers,

who should be
venting their wrath."

WATSON:
He goes up against Congress.

He just keeps pushing at it.

Because again,
you've got this evangelist.

He was a showman,

and there's a contemporary
journalist, Mark Sullivan,

who wrote about the
entire theatrical spectacle

of Wiley's talks

and the way he would
dominate the room.

And he knew
he was a theatrical presence,

and he used that.

He used it to draw attention.

NARRATOR:
Roosevelt grew tired
of the debate on Capitol Hill

and of the industry
stonewalling.

He made it known
to the leadership

that he wanted legislation
on his desk immediately.

If Congress did not produce
a bill, he threatened,

he would release the report
that his team had conducted

in Chicago,
in all its damning detail.

BLUM:
And the summary is so explosive

 
that Congress does come back,

and they pass
a meat inspection act.

They just have to, right?

Everyone gets that.

And in the kind of wash of
the Meat Inspection Act,

the food-and-drug people
like Wiley say,

"This is our minute."

NARRATOR:
For Wiley,

Roosevelt's threat was
the last best hope for change,

and he waited anxiously
for word from Congress.

As the roll was called,

it was clear to senators who had
fought a bill for decades

that the war was finally
coming to an end.

♪

BLUM:
So, the Food and Drug Act passed
after the Meat Inspection Act.

The one pulls the other forward
and both of them pass.

♪

NARRATOR:
On June 30, 1906, Roosevelt
officially signed into law

both the Meat Inspection Act
and the Food and Drug Act--

the first
consumer-protection laws

in American history.

Wiley couldn't help but marvel
that it took only four months

since the publication
of "The Jungle"

to accomplish what
he had been working toward

for nearly a quarter century.

KUMMER:
Wiley was enormously helped

by his scientific backing
of his studies

that gave this kind of
mantle of authority.

Upton Sinclair could tell
these shocking human stories,

but Wiley could say,

"Look at what I have been able
to demonstrate in a lab."

It was his ability to generate
attention for the Poison Squad

that led to the Pure Food Act.

BLUM:
These are a huge,
paradigm-shifting moment,

because they're the first
consumer-protection laws

ever passed by
the federal government.

It's the first time
that the U.S. government says,

"We're in the business
of consumer protection."

This was a government that
responded to public outrage

about the quality of the food
that was being produced

by passing two laws.

And did it so quickly,
completely bipartisan,

that it just takes your
breath away to think about it.

It's an amazing moment
in American history

for the feds to finally say,
"Yes,

we're here to protect you
in your everyday life."

SCHLOSSER:
Upton Sinclair generated
an extraordinary amount

of publicity for the issue,

but the groundwork had been laid
for this legislation

for years and years by Wiley.

So, the actual bill itself,

I give Wiley
enormous credit for.

♪

NARRATOR:
President Roosevelt
was not interested

in assigning credit for the law
beyond his own.

"The Pure Food and Drug Bill
became a law,"

the president later proclaimed,

"purely because of
the active stand I took."

WATSON:
There's almost no episode

in Theodore Roosevelt's life

where he didn't write
about himself

as the hero of, you know...

he-he won the Spanish-American
War single-handedly.

He's not a person
to share credit.

TR was an incredible egomaniac.

He wasn't going to share it
with Harvey Wiley,

he didn't like Harvey Wiley.

NARRATOR:
In the newspapers
and in public, however,

the Pure Food and Drug Act would
be given a different name--

"Dr. Wiley's Law."

♪

The passage of
the 1906 food bill

should have been a moment
for Wiley to savor his victory,

but he had little time to rest.

It was his job to come up
with new food safety standards

and to ensure that
the industry complied.

SCHLOSSER:
Passing the law is
very different

from enforcing the law.

It was true with
antitrust regulation,

it's true now with environmental
regulations and food safety.

Getting the bill passed
is only the first step.

The biggest thing that
Wiley had to do after the bill

was really establish,
with proof, with documentation,

what was safe, what was unsafe,
and in what amounts.

And that would just take time.

(talking in background,
instruments clinking)

♪

NARRATOR:
Wiley continued to publish the
results of the Poison Squad,

including studies
into sulfurous acid

and sodium benzoate--

the preservative of choice
in ketchup.

(utensils clinking)

But Wiley's final Poison Squad
study was his most definitive:

his human experiments
with formaldehyde--

the chemical favored
for embalming cadavers

and used throughout
the meat and dairy industry.

(coughing)

Nearly every member of
the Poison Squad became ill

after only a small dose
of the preservative,

and Wiley discontinued
the experiments.

JUNOD:
If there's one study
that the Poison Squad did

that was never disputed,

it was the influence
of formaldehyde.

After the Poison Squad studies,

no one thought about allowing
or using formaldehyde.

The effects were
far more serious

than for some of the
other chemicals that they saw.

♪

NARRATOR:
Now with the food law in place,

Wiley called for
a total ban on formaldehyde

and every other
chemical adulterant

he tested in the Poison Squad.

Wiley and the members
of the Chemistry Division

were empowered to go
after food manufacturers

they deemed in violation
of their new regulations,

prosecuting companies
for tainting food products

with a host
of dangerous additives.

Just two years after
the passage of the law,

Wiley and his team
had seized and destroyed

shipments of adulterated food
nationwide.

But even as Wiley racked up

victories over food
manufacturers,

his hardline approach
was increasingly

coming under scrutiny.

Industry cried foul,

portraying Wiley as irrational
and out of control

and calling for his ouster.

And his boss, Secretary Wilson,

was beginning to feel
the political strain

of Wiley's draconian approach

and began to second-guess
his chief chemist

at every turn.

There were some questions
being raised as to judgment.

How wise is he being
in identifying his targets,

the companies
they were going after?

BLUM:
One of the things that you find

is Wilson starts suppressing
Wiley's publications entirely

and started cutting down
on the Poison Squad studies.

NARRATOR:
Wiley was facing
even greater opposition

from within the White House,

where President Roosevelt
had grown tired

of the steady stream
of industry lobbyists

complaining about
Wiley's confiscations

and strict enforcement
of the law.

WATSON:
And that's also where
he runs into conflict

with Teddy Roosevelt,
because he's pushing

for greater regulation
and greater enforcement.

Teddy Roosevelt is sort of like,

"We've kind of dealt
with this already,

"let's move on
to the next thing.

I got parks to make," you know.

And so you've got
that tension there.

NARRATOR:
In 1908,

in order to control what he
deemed Wiley's radical impulses,

Roosevelt appointed
industry-friendly scientists

to an internal review board,

tasked with analyzing the work
of Wiley's Chemistry Division.

The lead scientist
was Ira Remsen,

the man who discovered
saccharin,

the president's
favorite sugar substitute,

which Wiley sought to ban.

The Remsen board challenged
the Poison Squad studies,

questioning the very design and
science behind its conclusions.

BLUM:
They create a sort of
shadow advisory board,

to second guess
Wiley's food safety.

They actually redo some
of the Poison Squad studies.

And Roosevelt endorses
those actions.

The Remsen board
really criticized

some of that study design.

You know, you really needed
one clear control group

and one clear tainted group
for comparison,

and Wiley didn't
do that perfectly.

♪

NARRATOR:
Wiley scoffed at
their criticisms,

understanding that he was now
an even bigger target.

Naturally, when the battle array
was formed," Wiley wrote,

"the first point of attack
was on me."

But Roosevelt, Wilson,
and the food manufactures

had underestimated the
public support of pure food

and Wiley's popularity.

In newspapers
across the country,

the Remsen board was
roundly criticized

for being another
tool of industry,

while Wiley was lauded
in editorials

supporting his enforcement
of the law.

Once again, Wiley had
outmaneuvered his adversaries

and refused to be silenced.

SCHLOSSER:
I think he is
very much of a part

of a great many reformers
of the Progressive Era

who looked at the injustice

and wanted to make the system
live up to its own ideals.

If you look at so many
other people

in the Department
of Agriculture,

they didn't want
to rock the boat,

but there was something
about him

that just gave him
the strength to do it.

♪

(fluid bubbling)

♪

NARRATOR:
By 1909, Wiley had grown
increasingly isolated

from his superiors within
the Department of Agriculture.

But emboldened
by his public support,

he continued to crack down
on manufacturers

in violation of
the Food and Drug Act.

Despite the restrictions

Secretary Wilson was putting
on his research,

he continued to analyze
a host of products,

including medicated soft drinks,

which were hugely popular
at the time.

His analysis turned up a
shocking number of adulterants,

like cocaine, benzoic acid,
and saccharin.

But what worried him most

were dangerously
high levels of caffeine

he was finding across the board,

which led to the seizure of
multiple popular drink brands.

It wasn't long before
he turned his sights

to the country's
leading soft drink,

and one of the behemoths
of the American food industry.

BLUM:
Coca-Cola, of course, in the
19th century contained cocaine--

that was the basis
for the name--

and a lot of other
soft drinks did too.

Wiley had gotten interested
in Coca-Cola

partly because he did think
it was false advertising.

There was no more cocaine in it,

but Coca-Cola had
replaced cocaine

with this insane level
of caffeine.

And he worried about that as a,
you know, unregulated stimulant.

♪

NARRATOR:
At the time, Americans consumed

more than ten million gallons
of Coca-Cola every year.

The company marketed
the beverage

as an "ideal brain tonic,"

that "invigorated
the fatigued body

and quickened the tired brain,"

all of which Wiley saw as fraud.

Coca-Cola president Asa Candler

was well connected
in Washington,

and Coke was considered
an iconic American brand.

Nevertheless,
Wiley was convinced

that Candler was
pushing a product

with dangerous levels
of caffeine,

that he believed was
a habit-forming drug.

"Our duty," he wrote
to Secretary Wilson,

"is clearly to protect
the people of our country

in every possible way."

LOHMAN:
Up until the advent of soda,

caffeine was something
adults consumed.

You drank it in tea,

and you drank it in coffee,

and those weren't really thought
of as drinks for children.

This is the first product
that contains caffeine

that is being marketed
specifically to children.

Wiley was taking
on a big corporation,

but I don't really think
that that bothered Wiley.

I think he hoped to make
an example out of Coca-Cola.

BLUM:
He wanted to have Coca-Cola

pull down the amount
of caffeine in their Coke,

and they didn't have to
under the law.

And the only way that
he could get them to do that

was to take them to court.

♪

NARRATOR:
On October 21, 1909,

facing pressure from Wiley,

the government seized a shipment
of Coca-Cola syrup.

Two years later,
in March of 1911,

the trial opened:

The United States v. 40 Barrels
and 20 Kegs of Coca-Cola.

The case immediately
made headlines.

JUNOD:
It couldn't have been
better fireworks,

it couldn't have made
for better television,

in terms of, you know,
the battle of the great titans,

 
and the moguls of soft drinks

versus the, you know,
the public servant.

It was the sheer audacity
and the sheer drama of the case

 
that drew people's attention.

♪

NARRATOR:
The trial opened
with dramatic testimony.

The government called scientists

who testified to the injurious
nature of caffeine on the body

and even pulled in
Coca-Cola addicts,

who testified
about their hardship.

"As the habit increased,"
one patient recalled,

"I consumed up to
a dozen drinks a day."

Coke countered
with its own study,

by a Columbia University
psychologist

who dazzled the jury
with charts and graphs

that showed caffeine in Coke
was far from hazardous

and actually enhanced
cognitive performance.

At one point,

Coke co-founder John Candler
took the witness stand.

He testified that
he sometimes drank

as many as six glasses
of Coke a day,

and yet remained in good health.

The spectacle of the trial
had some reporters wondering

if Wiley had finally
reached too far

in his crusade
against the food industry,

while others wondered whether
he'd been set up to fail.

BLUM:
It's a fascinating trial.

Some people think that

the Agriculture Department
encouraged Wiley to sue Coke

because they thought
it would destroy him.

JUNOD:
The Justice Department just
thought that, "Okay, finally,

we're going to show Wiley

that there are limits," okay,

"that there are limits
to this law."

♪

NARRATOR:
By the beginning of April 1911,
Wiley's case was unraveling.

Two weeks later, Coke's lawyers
tried a new tactic

by questioning whether the
government even had standing

to sue the company.

To everybody's surprise,
the judge agreed.

In an instant,
Wiley's crusade against Coke

was dead in its tracks.

JUNOD:
To take on this project was

ambitious and
a little audacious, frankly.

And so Coca-Cola became
a cause célèbre

on the limits
to which we're going to go

to regulate a product,
especially one that's popular,

and not considered
terribly harmful.

♪

NARRATOR:
In the aftermath,

as Coca-Cola grew ever more
present in the American diet,

Wiley lamented,
"It was a baleful condition

which could have been
easily avoided."

♪

Despite the professional
embarrassment

over the loss of
the Coca-Cola trial,

the year would end on
a personal high note for Wiley.

In 1911, the
67-year-old bachelor

married his one true love,
Anna Kelton,

the woman who had turned him
down over a decade earlier.

By 1911, Anna was a well-known
and outspoken suffragist

who shared Wiley's passion
for social reform.

LOHMAN:
Wiley's friends would joke

that soon, that they were going
to start calling him,

"The husband of the famous
Mrs. Wiley,"

because she was out there.

She was getting arrested.

She was protesting
in front of the White House.

Um, they had
a very happy marriage,

a couple of children--
pure food babies.

♪

NARRATOR:
Domestic life
nor the Coca-Cola defeat

did little to quell
Wiley's determined efforts

to enforce the food law,

as he continued to hold
industry accountable.

But by 1912,

the climate in Washington had
turned decisively against

food regulation

and even more decisively
against Harvey Wiley.

Though he was battle tested,

Wiley was not prepared
for what his enemies,

including Secretary Wilson,

would do next to try
to keep him quiet.

After the Coca-Cola trial ended,

Wiley's use of government funds

suddenly came under
greater scrutiny,

with government auditors
singling out a payment he made

to an expert witness.

BLUM:
One of the experts on caffeine
that Wiley brought in

was a eminent U.S. scientist.

Wilson had approved it,

but he and his minions
used that contract

to accuse Wiley of
cheating the U.S. taxpayer.

And they really wanted him out.

♪

NARRATOR:
Without alerting Wiley,

Wilson and his allies raise
the issue with President Taft,

recommending that
the chief chemist be fired.

Taft agreed.

Wiley would have to go.

But when the news broke
in the "New York Times"

on July 20, 1911,

it was not the story that
Wilson or Taft had expected.

Wiley had learned
of his impending firing

and had carefully leaked
the information

to the sympathetic "Times,"

and the newspaper reacted
as he had expected.

"If Taft succeeded in firing
Wiley," the "Times" wrote,

"it will be hailed with delight

"by the food and drug
adulterers and misbranders

from all over the country."

The story was picked up
nationwide,

painting the administration as
industry-friendly sycophants.

BLUM:
So Wiley survived this attack.

He stayed on, but Wilson kept,
you know,

shutting him out of things

and undermining him,

and he finally realized
he couldn't stay.

♪

On March 15, 1912,

Dr. Harvey Washington Wiley
officially resigned

from the U.S.D.A. after nearly
30 years as its chief chemist.

The elevators and stairs
leading up to his office

were crowded with well-wishers
mourning his departure.

Tributes to his work poured in
from across the country.

In a heartfelt gesture,

Congressman Ralph Moss from
Wiley's home state of Indiana

paid tribute to the chemist

as someone who did more
for mankind

than anyone in the country.

I know that the people who
worked closely with him

were incredibly loyal and
fervent supporters of him,

whether that was within
the Chemistry Bureau

or any of the activists
or women's leagues

or grocers or packers that he
worked with across the country,

I think that
they really admired

his single-mindedness
in doing something

that was undeniably good.

♪

NARRATOR:
Under Wiley, the Bureau
of Chemistry had grown

from a half dozen employees

to more than 600.

"It was," he wrote,

"an organization
of which to be proud."

68-year-old Wiley was not
out of the public eye for long.

The women's magazine
"Good Housekeeping"

was known for
its crusading spirit,

and Wiley had barely left
the Agricultural Department

when he was offered a job
as the publication's director

of food, health, and sanitation.

In his new position,

Wiley would run a
state-of-the-art laboratory

to test products and
advise readers on their safety.

He would also write a column
on food safety and nutrition.

For Wiley, it was a natural fit.

LOHMAN:
What really amazed me

was he had veto power

over any of the advertisers
in the magazine.

The advertisers that

really did have these pure,
unadulterated products

would get this "Good
Housekeeping" seal of approval,

 
which was really Wiley saying,

"Yes, these are the products
you should buy."

KUMMER:
"Good Housekeeping" was,

for at least 50 years,
what women relied on.

They didn't have television,

they didn't have videos
on websites

to show them demonstrations.

They had columnists like
Wiley at "Good Housekeeping."

This is a completely honorable
way to keep in the public eye

and keep pushing your ideas.

BLUM:
His columns are actually
cited by congressmen

when they were fending off
attacks on the law.

So it gave him
that same platform

in a different way, and
he used it really effectively.

It was good for him.

NARRATOR:
Wiley would spend
the rest of his life

railing against
a corrupt food industry

and lobbying the government

to support and enforce
the Pure Food Act.

He remained the law's
staunchest advocate

even as he receded
from the public eye.

The Food Law was passed and
signed by President Roosevelt

on the 30th of June 1906.

There was a powerful lobby
opposed to the food law

of manufacturers who wanted
to make adulterated foods

and drugs.

They were always on the job.

And finally

it was accomplished

to the great benefit of
the people of this country

and to the protection
of our health,

which is the most
valuable asset we have,

and our lives.

♪

NARRATOR:
When he died in 1930
at the age of 85,

Harvey Washington Wiley was
buried in Arlington Cemetery.

On his headstone were
inscribed the words,

"Father of the Pure Food Law."

Eight years after Wiley's death,

President Franklin D. Roosevelt

signed the Food, Drug,
and Cosmetic Act of 1938,

empowering the Food
and Drug Administration--

the direct descendent
of Wiley's Chemistry Division--

and providing it
with real authority

to protect Americans
against unsafe food and drugs.

Where is Wiley's legacy today?

I can go to the grocery store

and buy a gallon of milk,
and I won't die.

It's, it's that simple.

If it came from a package,
if it came from a can,

it's sanitary, it's trustworthy
because of Wiley.

LOHMAN:
His legacy, ironically, is in
that we seldom think about it.

It is the expectation
that our food is safe.

And he did that.

♪

NARRATOR:
The men of the Poison Squad
were largely lost to history.

Their names were hidden
from public view.

Though many became ill,

not a single volunteer died
in the course of Wiley's study,

and while their service
was never recognized,

their contributions
to science and public health

were immeasurable.

BLUM:
The Poison Squad was

one of the most influential
scientific studies

of the 20th century.

Harvey Wiley changed
the way we think

about food and food safety.

One very obsessive,
determined person

can change the world.

And he did.

♪

♪

ANNOUNCER:
Next time...

In the shadow of a world war,

they were reluctant symbols
of their people.

MAN:
We invested so much
in Joe Louis.

ANNOUNCER:
But when they stepped
into the ring,

the world stopped
and watched two men,

Joe Louis and Max Schmeling,

fight for the title of champion.

"The Fight," next time,
on "American Experience."

Made possible in part
by Liberty Mutual Insurance.

"American Experience:
The Poison Squad"

is available on DVD.

To order, visit ShopPBS
or call 1-800-PLAY-PBS.

"American Experience"
is also available

with PBS Passport
and on Amazon Prime Video.

♪

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