Today, there are many debates in the media over the efficacy of herbal medicines versus prescription medicines. These debates can be traced back to the start of the Enlightenment, a time during which science began demanding objectivity and reason when describing and analyzing different systems. Stemming from the Galilean revolution, Enlightenment science began requiring that any scientific claim must employ the scientific method: anything outside this system was considered folk or popular wisdom, and therefore unintelligible.

I find this funny, because herbal medicine is the seed from which all modern pharmaceuticals and diagnostics sprung. As early as 2700 B.C.E., there are records indicating the medicinal qualities of thousands upon thousands of different plant species. In our early years of societal living, we appointed witch doctors and shaman, medicine men and other healers, to take care of our sick and dying. The major way of treatment for thousands and thousands of years, basically up until the 1800s, was plants and plant parts, either raw or refined. Over centuries of this herbalist/folk medicine tradition, we began to shift towards naturalism — which was simply a more organized form of herbalism: cataloging different species of plant based on uses and extraction methods. The first main thing to keep in mind about this, however, was that the “science” being done was cataloging: there was no testing, no theorizing, no experimentation. Medicine before scientific standards was essentially folk wisdom from collective/inherited knowledge, passed down through generations of verbal and physical communication. The second thing to keep in mind is that these catalogs were all unique — different authors writing in completely different styles and languages — and this made it difficult to have any sort of universal conversations about the medical uses of plants.

Then, a few things happened in quick succession: the invention of the printing press, the creation of binomial nomenclature by Carl Linnaeus, and the foundations of Enlightenment philosophy being put into place by people like Descartes, Locke, and Rousseau. The printing press spread Enlightenment philosophy large and wide, and helped to garner support for different ideologies. Rationalism became the main ideology of the time: this can be seen in popular culture, philosophy, the arts, notably literature and painting, political/economical affairs — essentially every major facet of life. There were those who sought rationalism and objectivity, but then there was also the other side who simply wanted to continue healing the same way they had been for years, because it worked. There were negative reactions from these places using herbal medicine when synthetics first began being produced in the late 1800s — they felt threatened by other things, such as progress and industry wiping out their lands, and they associated the science of the enlightenment with that potential threat.

Right off the bat, there is this tension of each side feeling threatened by one another, yet also feeling they can better the other side. Synthetic medicine sees ways it can help herbal medicine improve in efficacy, and visa versa; however, the relation between medicine and science is seen as a threat by those using herbal medicine, and herbalism is painted as nonsense by mainstream Enlightenment rationalists. This is exacerbated over and over again with each new trend in pharmaceuticals, starting in 1899 onwards: after the invention of aspirin, penicillin, flu shots, AIDs meds, cancer drugs, etc., both parties begin reacting negatively. It isn’t one side taunting the other: it’s more like one side predicting what the other side is going to do, making several associative jumps to a dark conclusion about the other group’s intentions. Science ends up seeing herbal medicine as a mystical farce, and herbal medicine ends up seeing science as the big bad devil conspiring against humanity.

Many herbal drugs are outlawed because they threaten the pharmaceutical industry in terms of profits, but also because they threaten funding for scientists who are researching synthetic drugs. This is where the line gets blurry: there is a nest of influences surrounding science, mainly money interests; but, there also a lot of influences surrounding herbalism, mainly subjective/personal influences. I believe the first step is admitting that both sides have their strengths and their weaknesses: this will get all the tensions out in the open, but it will also highlight the areas where herbal medicine and pharmaceutical medicine can perhaps benefit one another. The problem with these groups remaining so closed minded is not only that patients suffer, but that our advancements become more and more particular, and therefore further from a context that can help the most amount of people. There are studies showing that many different strong herbal medicines can replace the short-term, addictive drugs which often supplement lower-risk, long-term drugs (whose side effects often require the NSAID effects of the strong, short-term drugs). This suggests that the ongoing division between herbalism and pharmaceutical medicine is preventing people from receiving the full benefits of our collective knowledge.

I think that these arguments over herbalism versus science are indicative of larger cultural currents. It goes to prove that by erecting walls between disciplines, or philosophies, we limit ourselves severely. I’m not sure that getting rid of all divisions would be at all helpful, or at all manageable: but perhaps it is time for our divisions to be made transparent. Learning more about others is the most important thing there is in life — I think that this is what art has always pushed towards, but is only now finding its footing in the 21st century. The recent hybridization of the arts is an interesting occurrence because it suggests that a broader cultural shift towards unity is on its way (perhaps). It is a recycling, a repurposing, an amalgamation of ideas new and old: the larger currents are swimming under the surface of things as mundane as arguments over vaccinations. Underneath, there is an unwillingness to be honest: an unwillingness, from both sides, to empathize in any way. Perhaps art is too late to save us from our entrenched positions; perhaps we have already dug in too deep and are all too stubborn to back down; maybe these out of control, extravagant arguments aren’t indicative of positive change as much as they are indicative of something brutal brewing: then again, there are stories and studies, showing art has been known to heal wounds just as quick as any medicine — synthetic, or herbal.