I’ll readily confess that, until early last year, I was barely aware of the existence of someone called Dr. Oz. But then I saw him on TV, at the start of the pandemic, vomiting the argument that schools should reopen forthwith, because doing so “may only cost us two to three percent in terms of total mortality. Any, you know, any life is a life lost, but…that might be a tradeoff some folks would consider.”

That got my attention, especially after I did the math and saw that “two or three percent in terms of total mortality” translated into millions of dead kids. It brought to mind Buck Turgidson, the military nut in Dr. Strangelove, who declared that a limited nuclear exchange with Russia would only “get our hair mussed” and cost us “no more than 10 to million killed, tops.”

I tuned him out right then, although, for perverse entertainment value, I probably should’ve watched him tell his pals on Fox News (natch) that Trump’s quack cure for Covid – hydroxychloroquine – would soon become “the biggest game-changer in the history of medicine.” But nah. I had no time for frauds. I was due back on planet earth.

But now, and for the foreseeable future, it will be impossible to ignore him, because he has decided to run for the U.S. Senate in the state of Pennsylvania, where he doesn’t live. As a Republican, of course. The Pennsylvania party that once produced eminent senators like Hugh Scott and John Heinz.

Good grief, what a country this has become.

Actually, Mehmet Oz has the perfect credentials for this twisted era: (1) He has lots of money, thanks to his syndicated talk show (2) He’s therefore famous for being famous, which is more than enough for suckers who think he knows stuff just because they see him on TV, and (3) He has the exact same amount of governing experience as your family dog.

The ’22 Senate election in Pennsylvania – a crucial race that could help decide which party controls the chamber – is wide open, and if the ascent of a TV doctor (what an oxymoron) seems implausible today, we need only remember that the state’s voters decided in 2016 to put a TV game-show host in the White House. Indeed, the TV doc and the TV host are peas in a pod, chasing celebritydom while preying on public ignorance.

But popularity and credibility aren’t the same thing. Dr. Oz has a huge fan club despite the fact that the British Medical Journal, in a 2014 report, determined that only 46 percent of his medical recommendations were supported by actual evidence. (So said the “establishment,” and what do they know?) If duh people choose to believe his declaration that astrology “may reveal a great deal about our health,” then hey, it’s a free country. Ditto his claim that something called “green coffee extract” is a “magic weight-loss cure” (the Federal Trade Commission demolished that one). Ditto his claim that a South African plant called umckaloabo root extract is “incredibly effective” at fighting colds and flu (the National Center for Biotechnology Information demolished that one).

Daniel Boorstin, a prominent historian, told us about guys like Dr. Oz half a century ago. In his seminal 1962 book, The Image, he wrote that America’s celebrity culture was starting to leach into the political realm. He described celebrities as “human pseudo-events” who are basically known for their “well known-ness,” and he warned that “pseudo-events thus lead to pseudo-qualifications.”

I should acknowledge that Dr. Oz has long been a member of the Columbia University Department of Surgery faculty. But after the British Medical Journal report was released, 1300 physicians signed a letter demanding that he resign. (He did not.) They called him “a quack and a fake and a charlatan,” to no avail. To millions of people, he’s still known as “America’s doctor,” which is perhaps all you need to know about America.

Perhaps he’s a great improvement over Sean Parnell, the Pennsylvania senatorial candidate who quit the PA race after being outed for beating up his wife. Perhaps it’s far less disgusting to “prostitute your professional credibility for fraudulent products” (in the words of conservative commentator Mona Charen). But let’s pose the key question: Could this guy actually win in 2022?

A few years ago, a TV viewer told Dr. Oz, “I haven’t seen a doctor in eight years. You’re the only one I trust.” That answers the question.