The Elephant in the Brain: Hidden Motives in Everyday Life

by Kevin Simler

The logic of conspicuous caring is especially clear in what happened to England’s King Charles II, who fell inexplicably ill on February 2, 1685. The records of the king’s treatment were released by his physicians, who wanted to convince the public that they had done everything in their power to save the king. And what, exactly, did this entail? After a pint and a half of blood was drawn, according to Belofsky, His Royal Majesty was forced to swallow antimony, a toxic metal. He vomited and was given a series of enemas. His hair was shaved off, and he had blistering agents applied to the scalp, to drive any bad humors downward. Plasters of chemical irritants, including pigeon droppings, were applied to the soles of the royal feet, to attract the falling humors. Another ten ounces of blood was drawn. The king was given white sugar candy, to cheer him up, then prodded with a red-hot poker. He was then given forty drops of ooze from “the skull of a man that was never buried,” who, it was promised, had died a most violent death. Finally, crushed stones from the intestines of a goat from East India were forced down the royal throat.7 Not surprisingly, the king died on February 6. But notice all the conspicuous effort in this story. If Charles’s physicians had simply prescribed soup and bed rest, everyone might have questioned whether “enough” had been done. Instead, the king’s treatments were elaborate and esoteric. By sparing no expense or effort—by procuring fluids from a tort...

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