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This article by Lu Yuanlei would probably trend today
Preface
Posting this thread involves some risk. Discussions about traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) and Western medicine are always sensitive topics—everyone has an opinion and is eager to voice it. Usually, the WeChat account Zheng Zedao focuses on clinical case studies and practical techniques in TCM, leaving little room for idle critics to attack. While researching TCM theory and clinical practice, I inevitably come across historical materials left behind by past generations. These primary sources have profoundly shaken my understanding of medicine. Some rare manuscripts and unusual writings have long been forgotten by the world. It would be a pity if they were lost forever. When I find short pieces that can be publicly shared, I occasionally excerpt and post them—not necessarily close to clinical application, but at least useful for broadening perspectives. At the very least, they could serve as conversation starters. Knowing the truth helps avoid exposing one’s ignorance with just a few words.
This particular article is nearly 100 years old. Given the author’s stature and the sharpness of his views, it would likely make headlines today. What I fear most is someone with ill intent giving it a sensational title like “A TCM master from a century ago exposes all the weaknesses of Western medicine” or “A scathing critique of Western medicine—so well said!”—titles designed to manipulate uninformed readers. Therefore, I must clarify upfront: if this article gets misused, readers are encouraged to report it. Also, nearly a century has passed—both TCM and Western medicine have evolved. The situations described in the article may no longer reflect current realities. Readers not involved in healthcare should not assume that today’s TCM and Western medicine are exactly as portrayed here.
Before reading the article, it helps to know something about Lu Yuanlei:
In everyday conversations, I’ve found many people associate Lu Yuanlei merely as “a disciple of Yun Tieqiao,” noting that “during the peak of debates between TCM and Western medicine, only a few figures published strong defenses of TCM; among them, teacher and student Yun Tieqiao and Lu Yuanlei stood out.” Most people’s knowledge stops there.
Let me add some context—perhaps incomplete, but certainly accurate based on the materials I possess. Besides studying under Yun Tieqiao, Lu Yuanlei also had Zhang Taiyan as a teacher and co-founded a school with Zhang Cigong. (Nowadays, some ignorant individuals claim Zhang Taiyan “couldn’t even recognize members of his own family,” “prescribed ineffective formulas no one dared drink,” or “was an amateur meddling in TCM.” If readers want the truth, they should examine Zhang Taiyan’s writings directly to understand his strengths, rather than believing such baseless rumors.) Zhang Taiyan opposed the Five Elements theory and rejected concepts like Wu Yun Liu Qi (Five Movements and Six Climatic Factors). Both Zhang Cigong and Lu Yuanlei learned from him how to distinguish genuine knowledge from falsehoods. Notably, Zhang Cigong himself supported the eventual abolition of TCM theory after a transitional period. In contrast, Yun Tieqiao was a staunch defender of traditional TCM, famously debating Yu Yunxiu and vigorously defending classical TCM theories. So where did Lu Yuanlei stand? His writings offer clues: titles like Following Master Yun’s Pioneering Path, Yu Yunxiu Understands the Core of TCM Best, Academic Matters Have Only Right and Wrong, Not East and West, and You Serve as a Loyal Minister to Huangdi and Qibo, I Stand as a Fierce Opponent to Qi-Hua (vitalistic doctrines)—all reveal that Lu respected his teachers but never hesitated to speak his mind. Wherever he found truth, he stood there. Therefore, readers should not be surprised to find Lu Yuanlei, despite being Yun Tieqiao’s student, criticizing the foundational texts of TCM like The Yellow Emperor’s Inner Canon just as Yu Yunxiu did. Nor should one form a biased view of Lu solely based on this critical essay against Western medicine.
Because this article is emotionally charged—even somewhat inflammatory—I’ve written so much beforehand to help readers see the full picture and think independently before diving into the text titled “The Slave Faction in Western Medicine.” Just the title alone is sharply confrontational. Originally published in 1928 in Medical World Spring and Autumn (Yijie Chunqiu), during the height of mutual attacks between TCM and Western medicine practitioners, it came just a year before the infamous 1929 “Abolish Traditional Chinese Medicine” proposal. At the time, TCM was severely marginalized, and some Western doctors who knew nothing about TCM still arrogantly dismissed it, making outrageous claims like “Traditional doctors can only kill patients.” Lu may have been furious, hence writing this emotionally intense piece. It was rare for a scholar of the Republican era to engage in such verbal combat—though later, reportedly, the battle turned physical.
Words fly like blades and daggers. Perhaps due to the harsh tone, later generations—concerned about preserving dignity—often circulated only censored versions. Even Lu Yuanlei’s collected works include only the first half. Now, I’ve transcribed the complete original from the old journal issue.
Full uncensored version — first release online
Typed word by word
Please read and cherish
Original Text
Medical World Spring and Autumn, Issue 29
The Slave Faction in Western Medicine
In spring and summer, I was teaching at a TCM specialized school when I met a certain editor from The Hygiene News. He showed me several issues of Social Medical Journal, filled with abusive language toward TCM. He said, “When abuse comes, it must be returned.” Knowing a bit of Western medicine myself, I felt compelled to respond. Skimming through the pages, I noticed one writer named Wang Yugang whose tone was especially crude. So I wrote Comments on Chinese and Western Medicine and published it in The Hygiene News. Both The Hygiene News and Social Medical Journal are popular newspapers, not academic journals, so my commentary used simple language and deliberately avoided complex theoretical discussions. I explicitly told the editor that if there was a response, I should be informed. Later, due to disagreements with other faculty members, I resigned from my teaching position and lost contact with The Hygiene News. Only recently did I borrow Wang Yugang’s rebuttal from a friend and finally get to read it.
Wang prides himself on diagnosis, while Social Medical Journal usually boasts about bacteriology. I haven’t had time to respond to these yet. Recently, while writing for Chinese Medicine Monthly, I included sections on “Bacterial Diagnosis” and the role of Social Medical Journal. I’ll excerpt those parts here for early publication. Two points must be clarified first: (1) I do not practice medicine professionally; (2) I fundamentally oppose those muddled individuals (note from Zheng Zedao: a refined term for fools—though cruder equivalents exist, which readers may imagine themselves) who teach using Five Elements and cosmological cycles. With this understanding, most of Wang’s arguments collapse on their own.
—Lu Yuanlei, September 26, Year 17 (1928)
(The following is excerpted from the journal manuscript)
There is now a small faction of Western doctors who are arrogant and domineering, acting as if they could swallow TCM whole in one breath. Their knowledge comes from Japan, which in turn borrowed it from the West. In terms of lineage, the West is like the grandfather, Japan the father, and these Western doctors mere grandchildren. Many people value wealth over integrity—adopting others’ fathers and becoming adopted sons or grandsons isn’t uncommon. But what’s unforgivable is inheriting someone else’s legacy while actively destroying your own parents’ heritage—that shows utter moral bankruptcy. Today, these few Western doctors are desperately trying to eliminate TCM. They themselves are Chinese, use Chinese characters, and aim to destroy Chinese medicine. From the Japanese perspective, acquiring such loyal adopted sons is a good investment. But regarding these adoptees’ boundless filial piety toward their adopted ancestors, I’d like to propose a posthumous title for them: the slave faction of Western medicine. When they eventually pass away, we might erect a monument to honor their hidden virtues. I believe readers will agree with this suggestion.
What sets the slave faction apart is their empty talk of pathology—not actual therapeutic application. Yet their “adopted ancestors” have solid scientific foundations: alcohol lamps, microscopes, and numerous animal experiments—not pure speculation, unlike the theories in The Yellow Emperor’s Inner Canon. Thus, they can boast loudly. But however precise their pathological explanations, when it comes to treatment, they remain helpless—especially regarding their obsession with bacteriology. When facing acute infectious diseases, they rush into blood tests, sputum analysis, stool and urine exams, culturing, staining, serum reactions—exerting tremendous effort just to identify the pathogen. During the prodromal phase, before the pathogen is clearly identified, if the patient demands treatment, the Western doctor simply pushes back with: “Diagnosis not confirmed; radical treatment cannot begin.” The patient can only endure pain, groaning in bed, waiting silently for diagnosis. Of course, it’s the patient’s fault—how dare they get infected without knowing prevention and disinfection? They must patiently bear it. Fine. But once diagnosis is confirmed, it’s time for radical cure—time to display miraculous healing skills, achieving results like the ancients described: “improvement after one dose, recovery after two”—truly living up to their arrogant attitude. Yet the so-called “radical cure” depends entirely on the patient’s luck. Only if the patient happens to have syphilis can Western medicine offer Salvarsan (606) for a cure. Or diphtheria or tetanus, treatable with Beiring’s antitoxin serum. But unlucky patients with other infectious diseases—no matter how patiently they wait for a confirmed diagnosis—if they hope for treatment, hmph, sorry—the doctor again offers one clean excuse: “No specific drug invented yet; only symptomatic treatment available.” Then fever is treated with ice packs and electric fans, chills with hot-water bottles and radiators, hunger with milk and eggs. Dear readers, don’t underestimate these symptomatic measures—don’t say they’re worthless. Remember, Western medicine rests on physics, chemistry, and biology; its foundation includes embryology, histology, anatomy, physiology, and pathology. Such high-level science applied to symptomatic therapy—even if ineffective—still holds value. But if the same symptomatic treatments came from a TCM practitioner, they’d be absolutely wrong. It’s like being beaten and scolded: if your homely wife hits and yells at you, you’d flare up in anger. But if a courtesan gently opens her cherry lips and raises her jade hand to strike you, you’d feel deep pleasure, smile broadly, and shower her with money. Why are clients so foolish? Because the courtesan learned from seasoned madams how to intoxicate men with sweet talk. Similarly, believers in science fall ill, consult Western doctors, experience symptomatic treatment, and some even die without regret. Why so gullible? Because Western doctors inherit teachings from their “adopted ancestors” in the West and Japan, who have filled these science devotees with intoxicating rhetoric about bacterial infection and prevention.
The Slave Faction in Western Medicine (Continued)
For this reason, when Western doctors face infectious diseases, once the pathogen is diagnosed (though whether truly clear is known only to themselves), their duty ends. They need only apply symptomatic treatment and let the virus run its course. If the patient recovers, credit goes to the doctor. If the patient dies, blame cannot fall on the doctor: first, because the “adopted ancestors” never passed down a specific cure, and as dutiful adopted descendants, they cannot resort to ancestral Chinese remedies—that would be disloyal and immoral. Second, the patient’s own “natural healing ability” was too weak; the doctor could do nothing. Alas, with bacteriology as cover, treating 100 patients and killing 50 still leaves the doctor hailed as a national expert. How convenient!
So why do we need medicine? Obviously, to cure illness. Why diagnose? To determine treatment. But if you lack the ability to cure, what use is your medicine? If you have no treatment method, what use is your bacterial diagnosis? Only a few infectious diseases have specific cures—syphilis, diphtheria, tetanus. And symptoms of these three are obvious and easily identifiable—no need for bacterial testing. Diseases with confusing symptoms requiring bacterial diagnosis—like typhoid vs. paratyphoid, spotted fever, septicemia vs. malaria or tuberculosis, cholera vs. bacterial poisoning, dysentery vs. enteritis—even if bacteria are checked and diagnosis is 100% accurate, you still get only symptomatic treatment. So isn’t bacterial diagnosis utterly redundant? (Note from Zheng Zedao: Lu Yuanlei’s argument here is biased. Readers without clinical experience may be misled. Zhang Cigong once suffered from diagnostic errors due to neglecting Western methods. Lu Yuanlei later revised this view—for example, in treating dysentery without tenesmus but with constipation, he realized stool examination was necessary for accurate herbal prescription, and stated that even Zhu Danxi or Zhang Jingyue resurrected couldn’t manage without such Western knowledge.)
This logic is simple—anyone can see it. But the slave faction of Western doctors, dazzled by culturing, staining, and microscopes, overlooks the obvious. Truly, “their eyes can detect the tip of an autumn hair, yet fail to see a cartload of firewood.” My calling them “obsessed and unrepentant” is no exaggeration. Moreover, the idea that bacteria are the sole cause of disease remains highly questionable—a topic I’ll discuss elsewhere.
Fair-mindedly speaking, Western medicine does have its merits—surely not everything can be dismissed. Take Ding Fubao, a senior figure educated in Japan—his scholarship is profound, surpassing any in the slave faction. He understands TCM fairly well and often uses herbal formulas in practice. Next, consider Niu Huilin, whose surgical skills are unmatched. Yet when faced with conditions not suitable for surgery, he frequently refers patients to TCM. Then there’s Diao Xinde, a German-trained physician, whose internal medicine enjoys great public trust. Though unfamiliar with TCM, he never criticized it. And Ruan Qiyu, a senior graduate of Kwangchi Medical School, deeply studied TCM. His Kwangchi Medical Journal publishes both Western and Chinese medicine, and humbly invited me to serve as advisor for its TCM research division. Clearly, genuinely knowledgeable Western doctors do not look down on TCM. Only a few in the slave faction hold ulterior motives. Hence, I主张 that medicine itself need not be divided into “Chinese” or “Western,” but practitioners on both sides must be evaluated. Those in TCM who rigidly cling to Five Elements and cosmological cycles, falsely posing as professors and misleading youth, and those in Western medicine belonging to the slave faction—both should be eliminated. As for TCM doctors who merely memorize formula rhymes, or Western doctors trained only as nurses—well, they’re beneath discussion (Note from Zheng Zedao: meaning “not worth mentioning”)—outside the scope of this critique.
Also, comparing Wang Yugang’s current “rebuttal to the rebuttal” with his earlier work (title forgotten), while medical substance hasn’t improved, his writing has made significant progress—truly transformed. I note this to show that even members of the slave faction can diligently improve their command of the Chinese language.
Conclusion
This article reveals Lu Yuanlei’s fierce satire toward Western doctors who harbor extreme prejudice against TCM, while showing solidarity with those Western physicians who maintain a cautious, open-minded attitude. However, the piece violates a cardinal rule in medical debate: scholarly disputes should target ideas, not individuals. Even during Yu Yunxiu and Yun Tieqiao’s fiercest exchanges, though their views clashed, their letters remained respectful and courteous. This essay, however, launches indiscriminate attacks—targeting both ideas and people. Still, one could argue the other side started it. Some humorous passages are hard to resist laughing at.
Looking back a century later, I believe such TCM-Western medicine conflicts now hold little clinical significance. The flaws Lu pointed out in Western medicine equally exist within TCM—meaning the problem isn’t really about “East vs. West,” but about medicine as a whole. Think carefully: when reading these verbal battles, aren’t both sides mainly attacking quacks in the opposing camp? The real issue lies not in the systems themselves, but in incompetent practitioners and flawed methodologies. Consider this: the article criticizes Western doctors for symptom-focused treatment ignoring patient suffering—but don’t many TCM doctors do the same?
Take my personal experience: treating skin diseases, many patients come after failing steroid treatments in Western medicine—their skin turns yellow and thickened. After using internal and external herbal medicines, eczema clears quickly. But mocking Western medicine for this would be petty. With more exposure, you realize many Western doctors prescribe with great precision—eventually resembling TCM pattern differentiation, achieving excellent results. Conversely, aren’t TCM doctors who treat every skin condition with “heat-clearing” herbs—without effect—just as limited as those Western doctors relying solely on steroids?
Conclusion: Don’t waste energy on the China-West divide. In my view, focus instead on mastering practical skills to support yourself and your family.
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Apply knowledge practically
Seek truth from facts
Patients mentioned in the text should not attempt treatments described here on their own.
Names of前辈 (respected seniors) in the medical field mentioned in this article have been simplified for readability, using only surnames or omitting honorifics—not out of disrespect.