When a product turns out to be defective, news spreads like wildfire and companies scramble to recall the offending item. While most recalls involve contaminated food or faulty electronics, a whole era of history is filled with objects that were deliberately infused with radioactive substances. In this roundup of 10 surprising radioactive curiosities, we dive into the strange, often hazardous, inventions that people actually bought and used.
10 Energy Drinks
During the roaring 1920s, a bold American entrepreneur launched a bottled “energy drink” called RadiThor. Unlike today’s caffeine‑filled sodas, RadiThor was literally radium dissolved in water, marketed as a medicinal tonic that could boost vigor and even cure impotence. The promotional pamphlet boasted a bizarre study on the mating habits of water newts as “scientific evidence” of its potency. Despite radium’s known dangers, the drink found a niche among affluent customers who could afford the pricey concoction. Sales were modest but steady, and the product never sparked a mass health crisis. Nonetheless, government regulators finally shut RadiThor down in 1932, ending its brief, glowing chapter in beverage history.
9 Chapatis
In the late 1960s, researchers in Coventry, United Kingdom, grew concerned about anemia among South Asian women who had settled in the city. To investigate, a 1969 study recruited 21 women of South Asian background and supplied them with chapatis—traditional flatbreads—containing a specially engineered, radiation‑emitting form of iron. By monitoring the women’s radiation signatures, scientists could directly measure how much iron their bodies absorbed. The results suggested that the flour in the chapatis was poorly soluble, leading investigators to recommend supplemental iron for the community. The study faded from public view until a 1995 documentary raised ethical questions about consent. A 1998 inquiry deemed the experiment below modern ethical standards, and renewed political pressure in 2023 called for locating the participants and assessing any long‑term health effects.
8 Toothpaste
Across the Atlantic, early‑20th‑century Germany saw the chemical giant Auergesellschaft repurpose a waste product from its lantern‑manufacturing line. The lanterns were powered by thorium, a radioactive metal, and leftover thorium dust was abundant. Rather than discard it, the company concocted Doramad toothpaste, infused with thorium oxide. Initially issued to German soldiers during World War I as a novelty, the brand later plotted a post‑World War II mass‑market launch, hoping to ride the wave of American cosmetic growth. Advertisements bragged that the radioactive paste would eradicate oral bacteria and stimulate gum blood flow—claims that leveraged the era’s fascination with radiation’s “miraculous” health benefits.
7 Suppositories
Not everyone wanted a glowing grin; some sought a more discreet dosage. In the 1920s, Denver‑based Home Products Company introduced Vita Radium Suppositories, a 15‑day regimen promising “perfectly harmless” radium infusion. Packaging declared the product contained genuine radium that could restore “manly vigor” and make users “bubble over with joyous vitality.” The primary selling point was a cure for impotence, predicated on the belief that radium absorbed through the rectal mucosa would circulate systemically, revitalizing every organ. Medical professionals of the day were skeptical, and the claims quickly fell out of favor as the scientific community debunked the pseudo‑therapeutic hype.
6 Radioendocrinator
Some inventors imagined radiation could be worn like jewelry. The Radioendocrinator was a credit‑card‑sized radium device that users attached to a night‑time adapter resembling a jockstrap. Marketing images showed both men and women sporting the gadget on their heads, necks, or backs, touting it as a nightly “energy‑boosting” accessory. Priced at a staggering $1,000 at launch—later reduced to $150—it catered to a affluent clientele craving the latest health fad. The venture collapsed in 1930, as the novelty wore off and the health risks of constant radium exposure became undeniable.
5 Face Creams and Powders
In France’s pre‑World War II beauty scene, the brand Tho‑Radia dazzled consumers with radium‑infused face creams and powders. The formula was credited to an Alfred Curie, who proudly served on the company’s board—though he bore no relation to the famed Marie or Pierre Curie. Leveraging the Curie name, Tho‑Radia promised to ignite skin circulation, erase wrinkles, and bestow a perpetual youthful glow. By 1937, French authorities cracked down on cosmetics containing thorium and radium, prompting Alfred Curie’s departure and the removal of radioactive ingredients. Nevertheless, the brand survived in a reduced form until the early 1960s, long after the radioactive era had faded.
4 Cigarette Plates
In the 1980s, a Japanese firm introduced the NAC Plate—a thin metal badge containing 4 % thorium—claiming it could mitigate smoking’s harms when pressed against a cigarette pack. The product reached the United States in 1982, but the Nuclear Regulatory Commission intervened, noting that thorium is restricted to commercial use and cannot be sold to the public. NRC officials also dismissed the device’s efficacy, explaining that any alpha particles emitted would be stopped by the thin paper of a cigarette pack, rendering the claim scientifically untenable. Ironically, the regulatory block ensured the plate never added any extra danger to smokers.
3 Comforters
The post‑war 1950s witnessed a resurgence of radioactive home goods, notably the Gra‑Maze Uranium Comforter and the Cosmos Radioactive Pad. Advertisements boasted relief from arthritis, joint pain, and other ailments, positioning the bedding as a therapeutic marvel. The Gra‑Maze traced its lineage to a 1920s “radium” comforter that, in reality, held only ordinary soil. The revamped version, however, truly contained uranium, capitalizing on the era’s mining boom. Federal authorities eventually stepped in, deeming the products hazardous and ordering their production halted.
2 Embalming Fluid
Even the funeral industry fell prey to the radioactive allure. “Esco Radium Liquid Sunshine Embalming Fluid” carried an optimistic moniker that implied a radiant, healthy appearance even after death. While the product’s name suggested genuine radium content, investigations revealed little to no radioactive material. The marketing strategy hinged on the psychological promise that the deceased could retain a luminous, almost living visage, positioning the fluid as more potent than any competitor.
1 Water Bottles
Surprisingly, the radioactive craze lingered into the 21st century. In 2005, Japanese company Nakano Tec Co., Ltd. launched the Well Aqua water bottle, embedding a small thorium‑filled metal cylinder inside the container. The firm claimed the cylinder could strip chlorine, improve taste, and produce “live water” reminiscent of pristine mountain streams. The cylinder was deliberately larger than the bottle’s opening to prevent accidental ingestion, and the bottle was marketed for about a year of use with monthly cleaning cycles. The product exemplifies how the glow‑in‑the‑dark fascination with radiation persisted well beyond the mid‑1900s.