Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), this ancient discipline carrying millennia of wisdom, seems to have been struck by an invisible immobilizing spell within the river of time. Its beauty is frozen in the profound insights of the ancients into life and nature; its sorrow stems from a century-spanning solitude — a developmental process forcibly interrupted by the modern humiliations of Chinese culture.
This is not merely a lag in technology but a rupture in the discourse system. The language of TCM is not only disconnected from modern medicine but has even become estranged from modern Chinese. When we say "sweetheart" (literally “heart-liver treasure”), we don't think of specific anatomical structures. Yet terms still used in TCM, such as "the heart stores the spirit" and "the liver governs free coursing," have become a "professional dialect" requiring extensive background knowledge to understand, like a living fossil silently witnessing the passage of time.
TCM is difficult, and the difficulty lies in the century it lost.
In an era without microscopes or biochemical analyzers, TCM, through extreme "external inference" and analogical thinking, constructed a macroscopic system model to explain human physiology and pathology — a peak of rationality for its time. "Yin and Yang" represent the law of balance in the unity of opposites; "the Five Phases" represent the network of generative and restrictive relationships among systems; "Qi, Blood, and Body Fluids" are simple descriptions of energy and material metabolism. This model was not metaphysics in its time; on the contrary, it was a leading systematic medical philosophy globally. Its holistic view and concept of dynamic balance still appear wise today.
Accusing TCM of being "metaphysics" is no different from blaming Zhang Heng's seismometer for not using seismic wave sensors. If past sages like Zhang Zhongjing or Li Shizhen could come to the present day and witness the mysteries of cells, molecules, and genes, they would undoubtedly treasure these discoveries and eagerly integrate them into their theoretical systems. They were truth-seeking, pragmatic scientific explorers, not stubborn metaphysicians. Preserving this model, frozen by historical conditions, unchanged as the ultimate truth, is the greatest betrayal of our ancestors' innovative spirit.
In mainland China, the "Proposal for the Abolition of Old Medicine" in 1929 was a landmark event. Yu Yunxiu and others, then members of the Central Public Health Committee of the government, proposed the "Abolish Old Medicine to Remove Obstacles to Medical and Health Affairs Bill," attempting to completely outlaw TCM through administrative means, citing its theories as "unscientific." This provoked strong protests and petitions from the national TCM community (the "March 17th" protest). Although the abolition order was temporarily halted, TCM's fate of being excluded from the mainstream education and medical systems was sealed. Thereafter, TCM was long labeled as "old medicine" and struggled to survive in the cracks.
In Taiwan, a similar process unfolded concurrently. During the Japanese colonial period, the government promoted modern medicine (Western medicine) and adopted suppression and registration management policies towards Han medicine (TCM), severely restricting its development. After the Nationalist government relocated to Taiwan, although it did not explicitly abolish TCM, its long-term policy in healthcare and educational resources was "solely honoring Western medicine." TCM was confined to master-apprentice transmission or private clinics, finding it difficult to gain equal discourse power and development space within the modern medical system.
This history of suppression is the most painful chapter in TCM's "Century of Solitude." It not only artificially interrupted its natural evolutionary trajectory but also systematically deprived it of the opportunity to dialogue with modern science and integrate into the modern education system, deepening its disconnection from the times.More worryingly, certain voices within TCM still insist that "TCM doesn't need to see viruses or cells," and that "pattern differentiation and treatment determination" alone suffice. This self-restricting attitude is no different from imprisoning itself on an island from a century ago. If Zhang Zhongjing knew of his successors so refusing progress, he would probably kick open his coffin and beat his chest in frustration! The ancients' inability to delve into the microscopic world was due to limited material conditions, certainly not because they were unwilling or disdainful. If they were born in the present era, they would undoubtedly cherish modern physiology and microbiology, eagerly integrating new knowledge with the old.
For example, regarding the TCM concept "the Kidney receives Qi," the ancients observed the correlation between depth of breathing and a foundational energy (Kidney Qi) but had no means to understand the microscopic mechanism. Today, we know that the primary purpose of inhalation by the lungs is to obtain oxygen, which ultimately enters the mitochondria of cells and, through chemical reactions, generates energy (ATP). Thus, the microscopic manifestation of "the Kidney receives Qi" might precisely be the efficiency of mitochondrial uptake and utilization of oxygen. The state of "the Kidney failing to receive Qi" likely corresponds to decreased mitochondrial function and reduced oxygen utilization efficiency.
Understanding the TCM "Kidney" as a collection of functions and mapping it to modern medical organs and mechanisms (such as mitochondria, the kidneys, the brain, etc.) does not destroy the integrity of TCM theory. Instead, it allows TCM to regain life in a modern context. The TCM "Kidney" already encompasses functions like reproduction and memory, and modern common knowledge tells us these functions are actually performed by the testes, ovaries, brain, etc. The ancients, limited by knowledge and technology, attributed these functions to one "Zang organ." Why must modern people rigidly adhere to the literal meaning and dare not cross the boundary?