Consider Claude Hopkins's campaign for a new invention called orange juice, which presented it as an elixir for infants. A doting mother is pictured seated with a rosy-cheeked newborn, a posture for nursing, but this mother is feeding her baby with a spoon. “Orange juice is regularly prescribed for the diet of tiny babies because physicians know its purity and food value.” In another advertisement, a “DR. WILEY” says “Oranges…Are Better Than Medicine.” The consumer is informed that “practically every well-known physician advises orange juice for the diet of little children—even tiny babies.” Later, with the discovery of “Vital Amine C” (what we now call vitamin C), orange juice would acquire its magic ingredient, and a daily glass would become necessary for everyone's good health. “You need orange juice every day.” … The similarities with patent medicine advertising run deep, for the link between orange juice and the health of infants was based on nothing and ultimately proved to be highly dubious. Today the American Academy of Pediatrics strongly cautions against feeding babies orange juice, because it “could risk having juice replace breast milk or infant formula in the diet,” resulting in malnutrition; in addition, “excessive juice consumption may be associated with diarrhea, flatulence, abdominal distention, and tooth decay.” These side effects may have been unknown in the 1920s, but so was any proof of a supposed health benefit. While not as dangerous, orange juice was no more an elixir than Liquozone had been.

Tim Wu, The Attention Merchants, loc. 187