Dental Tribune United Kingdom Edition

13FeatureDecember 12-18, 2011United Kingdom Edition 13 obvious: the development of jaws and teeth depended on vitamin rich foods, such as internal organs and whole wheat. For a person whose diet was full of carbohydrates and deprived of vitamins, it was imminent that they would suffer deformities, with the jaw bearing the brunt of the problem. Around him the signs were clear; the nation’s jaws displayed every inch of physical deterioration either being small or ill developed, or undersized and pinched in with overcrowding and irreg- ularities of the teeth. It was a national outcry. With his research behind him Harry approached the Government suggesting with all his might and knowledge that white bread should be significantly taxed; he even went so far as to voice that white bread should be com- pletely excluded at all “es- tablishments under Govern- ment control.” However, his ideas were not greeted with open arms and even though Harry recommended that the proceeds of the flour tax would be devoted to cheap- ening wholemeal flour, his proposal caused an outcry. It would seem that no matter what research or alternatives he offered to the public and government bodies, Harry’s controversial claims seemed only to add fuel to an already blazing fire. A man’s philosophy Placing aside the controversy on diet and his views regard- ing it, Harry was also a cru- sader for affordable health- care. His “take from the rich and give to the poor” person- ality trait glowed beneath his Victorian gentleman charm and the renowned gentleman who had famously slated white bread made it his underlying philosophy to charge peo- ple according to their means. Stories that flitted between the London surgeries spoke of Harry undertaking unpaid work, providing emergency treatment, reducing patient fees and devising payment instalment schemes for those patients who were strapped for cash. Harry had become a national face for the working class and during the British Dental Hospital’s 11th Annual Meeting on October 27, 1923 Harry protested about the cost of dental and medical treat- ments; he was left reeling over the reality that only the richer members of society could af- ford it. The truth was that for Harry dentistry wasn’t merely a job, it was his service and duty. As his voice continued to rock the delicate medical world, he stood strong, af- firming his belief that “a little dentistry at the right time may save a world of trouble”. But no matter what he said or did, the general health and physi- cal development of the people continued to remain unsatis- fying and with World War I a haunting memory and the eve of World War II less than a decade away, Harry remained conscious of the fact that one million men were unfit for military service. Never before had he felt so sure on his own research and knowledge, and as gastric disease and cancer broke out onto the streets of Britain Harry continued to put in his penny’s worth. As far as he could see, the nation’s health was deteriorating fast, and he knew that something had to be done before it was too late. A life cut short Unfortunately, Harry never saw his ideas fully imple- mented during his lifetime. On Sunday, September 20th” 1931, almost a year to the day since his paper ‘Food and Den- tal Hygiene’ had been printed in the Scottish Health Maga- zine, Harry’s life was abruptly cut short. Following a tragic motor cruising accident off the Brittany coast, the famous white bread slayer contracted typhoid, which claimed his life three weeks later. Like an artist whose paint- ings come of value after the artist has passed away, Harry’s message soon became invalu- able in the medical and den- tal world. Just days after his death the country went to great lengths to ensure his message on diet didn’t expire with him. Even the obituar- ies kept his voice alive, and in the Evening News, London, on 22nd September 1931 Harry was described as “indefatiga- ble in his efforts to make the public realise the importance of diet” and that he was “so opposed to the use of white bread… he never lost an op- portunity of decrying it.” Even though he may cease to educate today’s society by denouncing white bread, or grace our presence by fixing faces torn apart by the rav- ages of war, Harry’s legacy still remains a strong fixture in the dental world through his research and scholarships. After his death, Harry’s wife, Lady Lucy Baldwin, donated a sum of money to The London School of Dental Surgery to fund the Baldwin Scholarship, which was to be presented for excellence in porcelain resto- rations, in which Harry was chiefly interested in. It was also noted that a foundation scholarship providing free education was offered to, and accepted by, the governors of Epson College. The scholar- ship, which was to be awarded to a scholar who had achieved a dedication at Epson, is just the beginning of Harry’s in- credible legacy, because from here the first BDF examina- tion was formed. I hope that throughout this series I have painted a pic- ture of Sir Harry Baldwin as he once was; a typical late- Victorian man who was fas- cinated by everything, from dentistry to motor cruising, to collecting Japanese prints and Chinese porcelain, right the way through to his love for British art. In the end, Harry was not only a fantastic dentist and surgeon who helped save the lives of thousands of sol- diers, but he is a part of dental history and a part of our fu- ture. But what’s best of all was that his own advice served him well; he died with a full set of teeth1 . DT • I would like to thank Rich- ard Fowler for giving me the opportunity to write this arti- cle and for the resources that he donated to King’s College London. I would also like to thank the staff at the Archive Department at King’s College London for their help and guidance whilst completing my research. Section from Harry Baldwin’s diary on jaws, image courtesy of King’s College London Section of wheat germ, image courtesy of King’s College London ‘The truth was that for Harry dentistry wasn’t merely a job, it was his service and duty’ Scholarship policies, image courtesy of King’s College London