A syndicated story, printed in newspapers in March 1940, placed the record-setting winnings of Seabiscuit, the plucky, inspirational racehorse of the Depression Era, within the context of other famous careers. The piece reported that the horse had earned more than President Roosevelt, and more than Babe Ruth, but still not as much as a movie star like Greta Garbo. To make the story more relatable for the average reader, the comparison also included “Dr. Harry Steenbock” described as “a professor at Wisconsin” who “saved millions of children from the crippling effects of rickets by developing [a] process for introducing vitamin D into foods through action of ultraviolet rays” but “refused a million dollars for his process.” The humble professor’s salary, over the course of his entire career, earned him about half of what Seabiscuit won in just five years.
The papers got it wrong. In truth, royalties from the vitamin D process had outpaced Seabiscuit by 1940 and, before long, Steenbock would have a net worth higher than Garbo. The wealthier he became from his science, the more he was celebrated for turning down a fortune for the sake of science. This lecture will explain the seeming paradox of Steenbock’s fame along with what it can tell us about the history of vitamins, science, and the university.