Some segments have been documented in skeptical news stories over the years.
In one in 2015, Oz advised a woman who was concerned about her past partying to try a “liver detox supplement,” adding, “I’ll show you one that I like a lot.”
He told her that Usana’s Hepasil could “reverse a lot of things that may have happened” to her liver, as first reported by the Los Angeles Times. There is little clinical evidence to support the use of these diets, according to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.
Another segment posted on YouTube in 2018 promoted VisionEx. Oz said the product could “renourish” the eyes and fight the loss of eyesight before turning to a Usana “scientist that I trust for this issue,” who appeared in the TV studio.
“You want healthy eyes everybody?” Oz later asked the audience, before announcing that everyone in attendance would get a free bottle of the supplement. The segment, unlike others from Oz’s show, remains available online.
During the coronavirus pandemic, Oz promoted the anti-malaria drug hydroxychloroquine as a potential treatment. The drug can cause heart rhythm abnormalities, severe liver inflammation, and kidney failure. It was also found to be ineffective treating the virus. Oz’s financial disclosure shows he held at least $630,000 of stock in two companies that offered the product, as first reported by CNBC.
Other companies whose products he promoted also have run into regulatory scrutiny.
Around 2005, Oz met Benson Boreyko, the founder of New Vision International and Vemma Nutrition, which were sued by the FTC. In between those legal entanglements, Oz promoted one of the Vemma’s products, while Boryeko served on the board of a nonprofit that Oz founded and Vemma was a donor.
The first FTC suit in 1998 was filed several years before Oz and Boreyko met and targeted what it called unsubstantiated claims by New Vision International that its product could treat ADHD and ADD. The second, in 2015, accused Vemma Nutrition of being an illegal pyramid scheme.
The companies settled in both cases, but admitted no wrongdoing.
The FTC said the Vemma settlement resulted in the company and top officials paying refunds of $2.2 million to people who lost money.
Oz participated in various Vemma activities, including speaking at three of its annual conventions and joined marketing calls with the people who signed up to sell the products. At one convention, Vemma’s promotional material said that Oz “will educate Vemma Brand Partners about nutrition in an intimate and interactive, town-hall-style event,” according to statements made by the company.
Oz also promoted Vemma’s products in public.
He featured one of them, Verve, an energy drink, on his show, social media and elsewhere. In a 2013 episode, he included it in his health diet recommendations as one of his “favorite fatigue-fighting snacks, it’s one that gets me through the day: one handful of almonds and half a Verve energy drink.”
In Esquire magazine’s “Ask Dr. Oz” column in 2008, he promoted Vemma’s drink product line, “liquid Vemma,” as one of his two recommendations for best multivitamin for a man under 60.
Both endorsements ended up in Vemma’s promotional materials.
The relationship between Oz and Boreyko extended beyond the promotion of products on his show to a nonprofit group founded by Oz in 2003 called HealthCorps, which aimed to improve health education in schools.
Boreyko became a HealthCorps board member and Vemma was listed as a donor in HealthCorps’ annual reports from 2008 through 2013.
The nonprofit consumer watchdog, Truth in Advertising, reported Vemma gave more than $1 million to HealthCorps and that Oz, in part, endorsed Verve on his show because of Vemma’s contributions.
Usana also gave substantially to Oz’s HealthCorps, donating at least $8 million since 2012, according to tax statements and annual reports. In addition, former Usana CEO Dave Wentz, the son of the company’s founder, gave between $700,000 and $1.5 million between 2016 and 2020, records show.
Like Donald Trump before him, Oz has a public persona that is a draw for some voters, including Eileen Walker, a believer in natural remedies from the Philadelphia suburb of Warminster.
“He always had people on there to back him up, that had information on why you want to take this pill or that pill, or eat this way or not eat that way,” said Walker, 75, who added that she “absolutely” trusted his advice.
Oz’s role as a promoter follows a long line of TV pitchmen, with one important distinction.
“American television has always been about selling stuff,” said Robert Thompson, a Syracuse University professor, who pointed to the “Camel News Caravan,” an NBC program from the beginning of the television era that was dripped out in Camel advertising and urged viewers to “Sit back, light up a Camel and be an eyewitness to the happenings that made history in the last 24 hours.”
But, he added, Oz’s show is materially different because it’s not obvious what’s going on.
“It’s overt versus covert. It was not called the ‘Usana Dr. Oz show,’” he said. “He built your trust. You visited your physician once a year. You visited Dr. Oz daily.”