Biophotons are barely measurable. The light they emit is comparable to that of a candle flame 12 miles away. For this reason, Fritz-Albert Popp devised an ingenious amplifier to study cells’ biophotonic emissions. With it, Popp can demonstrate that cells emit either a coherent—healthy—light or a chaotic light that indicates disease. The explanation is simple: When biophotons direct the body’s biochemical processes in a chaotic manner, those processes are disrupted.
Popp’s amplifier is fine for a laboratory where cells can be viewed using a microscope, but not for the practical applications Boswinkel had in mind: a body—millions of cells—continuously emits electromagnetic radiation across a very wide spectrum.
Boswinkel found his solution in an instrument developed in the 1950s by the German founder of electro-acupuncture, Reinhold Voll. Voll demonstrated that the electrical resistance at acupuncture points clearly deviated from that of the surrounding skin. He also determined that every acupuncture point is connected to a specific organ or gland. There are two possible outcomes for measurements made using Voll’s instrument: Either the device displays a straight line, indicating a steady resistance, or it displays a downward curve corresponding to a declining value—called an “indicator drop”—that indicates weakness at the point. Boswinkel says, “That was a breakthrough for me. Popp demonstrated exactly the same thing using his light amplifier: a steady line in the case of orderly, coherent light, and a drop in the case of chaotic light. That led me to conclude that measurements taken at acupuncture points correspond to biophotonic measurements.” Since then, other researchers have indeed determined that acupuncture points—and the eyes—serve as special windows for absorbing light into the body and that explains the difference in resistance that Voll measured at those points.
In case of a dropping measurement, there is a disturbance in the body, and that’s where Boswinkel’s diagnosis begins. In his instrument, he has combined Voll’s measurement method with an archive of homeopathic potencies. In the homeopathic tradition, bacteria, diseases, toxins and heavy metals are homeopathized: Their frequencies and information are stored into the homeopathic medicine. That homeopathic information—for some 500 substances—is stored as “counter-frequencies” in Boswinkel’s machine.
An example: A stomach acupuncture point displays an indicator drop when Boswinkel measures it. This means there is a disturbance in the stomach. If he includes the counter-frequency for salmonella in the measurement, and the line straightens and becomes coherent, Boswinkel knows the stomach disturbance is caused by salmonella. The sum of the disruptive frequency and the counter-frequency should be zero, because opposing waves cancel each other out. If the measurement including the salmonella counter-frequency still displays a drop, then Boswinkel must look for another cause. “Your body is like a radio; you only hear music when you’re resonating with a specific station. You only hear music if you’re properly tuned,” he says.
As soon as he knows what’s causing the bodily disturbance, Boswinkel can treat it. The patient holds two glass electrodes, one in each hand. One electrode records what the body is emitting. That light is subsequently “inverted” in the machine and fed back into the body through the second electrode. The process is repeated with the feet, which are placed on two glass plates. “You’re treated with your own light. Every dysfunction can be identified,” Boswinkel says. His therapy is based on the same law of similars that underpins homeopathy.
Boswinkel needs less than an hour to diagnose and treat illness, and he can resolve most problems in five or six sessions. He estimates his therapy’s success rate at 80 percent and notes, “We treat precisely the chronic cases, the people who’ve already exhausted the entire mainstream medical gamut.” He grows thoughtful. “In principle, you can always heal everything. There are very few people who can’t get better. You can intervene at the last possible moment and restore the body’s ability to heal itself.” In his ideal world, everyone would undergo a checkup every six months. “No disturbance can build over that period of time into something that can’t be corrected simply.”
The greatest challenge to successful treatment using Boswinkel’s therapy is making the diagnosis. “That’s the trickiest part,” he says. In the human cellular organism, millions of processes are taking place at every moment. “You can compare it to a tree, where each leaf can display a particular symptom or disturbance. You can focus on each sick leaf and realign it. That will quickly relieve specific symptoms. But leaves get sick because there’s an underlying disturbance in the trunk and the roots of the tree. You have to look for that core. That’s where the real solution lies.”
He cites an example. “In mainstream medicine, the helicobacter bacterium is known to cause peptic ulcers. But when I want to treat a peptic ulcer, I treat the gall bladder, not the helicobacter. When organs or glands are exhausted, the immune system no longer functions optimally, and the body develops a receptivity that bacteria can exploit.” After 30 years, Boswinkel sees many connections that mystify the lay person—and even mainstream doctors. To Boswinkel, there’s a connection between Crohn’s disease and chronic appendicitis, between asthma and whiplash and between an enlarged prostate and a potassium deficiency. He sees the cause of liver cancer in pituitary malfunction, and that’s also where treatment begins for alcoholism caused by the pancreas in overdrive—because the pituitary gland influences the pancreas.
It takes extensive knowledge of the human body to make the right diagnosis, which Boswinkel painstakingly taught himself over many years. This is far from true of the hundreds of people he has since trained to operate his instrument. Several conversations with practitioners reveal that those who are most successful in using Boswinkel’s therapy are those who have completed a specific medical education—from natural medicine to physical therapy to nursing. That’s why Boswinkel is so enthused that his training program, which takes an average of 21 days spread over several months to complete, has become part of the complementary medicine curriculum at the Medical University of Graz in Austria. He has plans for even wider university exposure. “Such an integral approach offers the best chance of success,” he says.
An observational study conducted by two therapists who completed the training program in Graz illustrates the effect of Boswinkel’s therapy. Twenty patients of different ages with a variety of chronic complaints—from allergies and skin problems to sleeping disorders and fatigue—were treated for two weeks. After three months, symptoms had disappeared or radically diminished for 90 percent of participants. A test like this one doesn’t meet strict scientific standards, but it does indicate promise that invites more rigorous double-blind, controlled studies.
Boswinkel’s critics point to the danger of the “experiment effect”: the observer who influences the measurement. “That effect absolutely exists,” Boswinkel responds, adding that it plays a role across the board in science. The operator and his intellect are part of the diagnosis. “Every measurement is subjective, and that’s why it’s so crucial that the therapist makes himself as objective as possible,” he says. “When you’re taking measurements with the machine, you have to keep yourself open to every possible outcome; that gives you the most information, and makes a great deal possible.”