東洋と西洋、医学から世界を見直すEast, West and Medicine: Rethinking the World

In an era where the unified image of the world as it really is precipitously descends into a chaotic abyss, it is of paramount importance to grasp, once again, what exactly this "world" signifies. For unless we displace the very ground upon which endless debates are currently held, the situation will never turn toward a better direction. Lurking within this stagnation is a single technique: symptomatic treatment.

Until now, this world has been broadly bifurcated into two realms: the West and the East. This tendency remains deeply rooted at the bottom of human thought, whether conscious or unconscious. No matter how anachronistic one might deem such thinking, this pathogen, once taken root, is not easily removed. Indeed, the solution of "removal" is rendered impossible because the very environmental soil where the pathogen resides remains invisible.

Of course, it is impossible to unilaterally define the West or the East and assign them a fixed character. Viewed individually, each is extremely pluralistic; even within the so-called realm of the East, India, China, and Japan are entirely different. While there may be threads of connection, whether they can be integrated under the equal sign of "the East" remains highly questionable. The same applies to the West.

However, precisely around the onset of the Second World War, terms such as "Eastern thought" and "Eastern philosophy" began to be advocated in various forms within Japan. Until then, the perspective of "the East" was merely a vantage point from the West, which boasted overwhelming power at the time. Consequently, there was neither agreement nor alignment with this view. Yet, triggered by certain events, Japan’s own issues were expanded into the context of the East. Eventually, the Japanese began to claim the Eastern perspective as their own, initiating a movement of various assertions. A typical example is Daisetsu Suzuki, known for his writing on zen, who discussed matters multilaterally through a distinctly Eastern consciousness.

Nevertheless, the nuance of "the East" spoken of here inevitably shifts drastically depending on who is observing which part of the East. In other words, while one might extract certain common denominators to totalize "the East," it can be said that there is no substance to it. Rather, we begin to see a figure wherein the massive realms of East and West are stipulated by "fabricating" these common denominators. The crucial point here is the movement to discover, stipulate, and posit "something that resembles a commonality" as a universal. Yet, this remains no more than "something that resembles a commonality." Because this dubiousness has been left almost unconsidered as the ages have progressed to the present, the issue of East and West has become further confused, and inevitably, the world positioned within that totality is believed to be in disarray.

However, this does not render this perspective meaningless. Rather, by reconsidering the major premise—the one great tendency lurking therein—we can see that the approaches of the East and the West are entirely different. In truth, if we are not captivated by the superficial, mysterious differences between East and West, the true issue converges on the fact that the thinking itself is fundamentally different. That is to say, history has developed with the very process of thought rooted in completely different soils.

Limiting our view to the modern era and beyond, one could say the West has held hegemony in this world. However, when viewed through the grand framework of human history or the history of civilization, civilization has oscillated between East and West numerous times to arrive at today. I view this transition not merely as a replacement or circulation of civilization, but rather like the helical structure of DNA. And in this transition, there is always a kinetic force that transfers the primary cause of civilization. That force is the large-scale movement of people.

In this process of civilizational transfer between East and West, it is almost certain that new religions and philosophies rise to prominence. It is crucial to grasp the perspective that this civilization possesses a cycle. History proves as truth that civilization never grows in a linear, upward trajectory forever. Therefore, now that the end of one civilization is approaching, no matter how one resists, what is dying will die. The question is, having grasped this perspective historically, how do we perceive the true image of the next world?

I will speak broadly for now, but the primary causes of the East-West civilizational transfer include the great movements of the ancient world, the expeditions of Alexander the Great, the great movements of the medieval world, the Mongol expeditions, and the Crusades—all occurring over the last 5,000 years. Each time, the fulcrum of civilization shifted between East and West. In a sense, it seems not that civilization transfers for humanity to survive, but that it transfers for civilization itself to survive. Considering that this primary cause, the movement of people, becomes the primary cause of civilizational transfer as a consequential fact, phenomena such as the large-scale movement of people into Europe in the 2010s mark, according to the teachings of history, a sign of the next transfer point.

Thus, although the period we might call the Western Century has continued for several centuries, history teaches us that this will transfer toward the East; this is predictable to some extent. However, we must also consider that we are placed in a certain singular situation. Having accelerated modern civilization to this point, for us living in a world that has passed through globalization—setting aside judgments of good or bad—are we to simply remain subservient to the conventional historical cycle and begin the next few centuries?

In reality, strictly observing the status quo, it appears we are heading in that direction. Yet, despite our generation being the first in human history capable of relativizing history to this degree, if the principle of repeating this East-West transfer is to continue for eternity, we must be bewildered, asking ourselves what on earth we are doing. That is why we must thoroughly rethink the question of what the great characters of the East and the West have been until now, and where their intersection lies, premised on this grand framework. Upon that, we must continue to contemplate where to set the point of encounter and how to actively create a state where the two are inseparable. In other words, my personal awareness of the issue is a concern over the fact that the framework of East and West remains separated, and to render it inseparable requires the emergence of a human being with an entirely new way of thinking.

Therefore, the inquiry must reach the next dimension. First, how does the human who creates this non-separation appear? Next, in the next world created by that human, what manner of thinking should we possess regarding the nature of things? This seems to be the critical philosophical theme of the 21st century and the eras beyond.

Now, regarding this East-West matter, interpretations are limitless, but I personally find it easiest to understand by observing the differences in medicine between the two. For instance, if one were to describe Western medicine in a word, it is "the medicine of the battlefield." This is because Western medicine has three major characteristics: 1. Discovering the enemy, 2. Creating a powerful weapon suited to that enemy, and 3. A framework to eliminate that enemy. Since Western medicine is premised on the dynamics of the battlefield, the process of "eliminating the enemy with one's own weapon as soon as it is found" is coded as its typical character.

In Western medicine, that enemy is symbolized by viruses or cancer cells. It means discovering an enemy that can be scientifically posited, acquiring powerful weapons capable of countering that enemy by enhancing technologies such as antibiotics or surgery, and using them to attack and eliminate the virus or cancer cell. This is truly worthy of being called the medicine of the battlefield, and it is outstandingly effective for emergencies such as acute infectious diseases or injuries. In other words, there is an aspect where what originally developed as a measure for rapid response on the battlefield has been inherited by the modern age as Western medicine.

On the other hand, the character of Eastern medicine is, simply put, "the medicine of agriculture." To put it clearly, the fundamental idea is not to forcibly apply fertilizer when crops do not grow, but to improve the soil itself. This soil is the human constitution. However, "constitution" here refers not merely to the physical body, but to the constitution of life existence that integrates even spirituality. In this case, Eastern medicine also has three characteristics: 1. Search for the cause, 2. Arrange the environment, and 3. Nurture natural healing power. Concisely, it is "Inquire - Arrange - Nurture."

"Searching for the cause" begins with the inquiry, "Why do weeds (disease) grow there?" Next, one considers "Why is the drainage (metabolism) poor?" to arrange the environment. Based on that, the framework is to "reexamine the balance of nature (the body) as a whole and nurture natural healing power."

To show the difference concisely: Western medicine is characterized by "Discovery - Development - Elimination," while Eastern medicine is characterized by "Inquiry - Arrangement - Nurturing."

Because Western medicine focuses on the cause of the disease and specializes in treatment, it "sees the tree but misses the forest." Conversely, Eastern medicine looks at the state of the entire body and improves it from the root, so its approach is decisively different: "Seeing the forest to heal the tree." In short, the decisive and fundamental difference in the viewpoint of "what one is looking at" appearing in medicine is a direct manifestation of the philosophical difference between East and West. Western medicine excels at discovering, determining, and eliminating enemies, but because it looks only at the pathogen that has triggered the illness, the observation of the patient themselves is neglected.

In Western medicine, it is not a problem until the disease manifests, but becomes a problem once it does. Therefore, regarding rapid and emergency response after onset, Western medicine is overwhelmingly superior to Eastern medicine. However, on the other hand, the perspective of "seeing the body, seeing the human, seeing the patient" is completely lacking in Western medicine; rather, premised on rational thinking, Western medicine has achieved its evolution by excluding even this point. Therefore, it is completely incapable of dealing with ambiguous maladies, such as indefinite malaise where the cause has not yet been born, or symptoms not scientifically specified.

However, as we all know, in modern times—leaving aside viruses and cancer—these "diseases of unknown cause" are extremely numerous, becoming factors that torment humanity and fatal causes of declined performance. Regrettably, Western medicine cannot take an approach to this. Applying the thinking thus far, this is because "diseases of unknown cause" are caused by entities not discovered as enemies in Western medicine. Conversely, this means that Western medicine—the medicine of the battlefield—cannot cure, or ignores as unscientific, any illness where the framework of discovering the enemy, making a powerful weapon for it, and eliminating it does not function effectively.

Here lies the basis for the attention Eastern medicine has received. Eastern medicine evolved with the premise of a perspective that sincerely looks at the human, the body, and the patient. Thus, even when using the same medicine, the physician changes the handling and allocation instantly according to that person's state at that moment; history has nurtured it as "medicine that looks at the person," thoroughly specialized for a single individual.

In contrast, the characteristic of Western medicine is to always universalize once a method of prescription for a single enemy is ascertained. By universalizing, it unifies the wholeness of "one as many" (ichi soku ta, 一即多) against a specific enemy, combines the work of creating scientific evidence such as clinical trials to manualize this, assembles a theory, and once confirmed under authority, diffuses it all at once. That is, it creates a pattern that is exportable and applicable to an unspecified majority, but the crucial point here is that Western medicine firmly premises authority. Eastern medicine, however, lacks this pattern itself. Even if there are things close to manuals, it eventually converges on the issue of extremely high skill dependent on the physician's personal experience.

The important point here is that because Western medicine abandoned the troublesomeness of looking at the person from the beginning, it is rare for the individual physician to be as important as the patient. In Eastern medicine, however, the single individual physician is as important as the patient. Yet, from the view of Western medicine which absolutizes the medicine of the battlefield, Eastern medicine is arbitrarily deemed inefficient and unscientific. For this reason, Eastern medicine was denied and attenuated in accordance with the development (export) of Western medicine. But, as with the transfer and dynamics of civilization, eventually, by tilting extremely in one direction, the defect reaches a fatal dimension. Thus, the restoration of Eastern medicine has been rising over the last decade or so.

However, unless Eastern medicine also acquires the perspective of Western medicine, it ultimately cannot respond to the overly complex pathologies of the modern age. In other words, the issue I wish to assert is not to engage in the meaningless discussion of the superiority of Eastern versus Western medicine, but that a significantly active clearing of a path is required: to earnestly explore where to follow the medical characters of East and West, where to have them meet, and on what position we stand, and then to decide. For this ultimately manifests not just as a medical issue, but as a fatal difference in philosophy, vision, and ideals between East and West. The problem here becomes the "world."

Currently, when the word "world" is spoken, it is an undoubted fact to anyone that, almost without exception, the West is the standard. However, as is obvious from looking at medicine, despite such vast differences, the stance of being solely devoted to Western medicine remains largely uncorrected. Yet, as a result, modern people are suffering from symptoms of unknown causes that cannot be specified by Western medicine due to this single-minded devotion. I view that if we erect the framework of the "world" entirely on Western-centric standards, the same problem arises. And interestingly, regarding the people suffering from this problem, there is no difference between Easterners and Westerners. That is, the initial limit of discussing this as East or West is already visible here.

This problem of the world functioned outstandingly for several centuries until just after the Second World War when the West was strong, but now that we are entering the initial stage where that dynamic has begun to transfer, the intensity of its applicability has dropped precipitously. Even if one continues to assert the word "world" without considering this situation, there is no real substance there. This does not mean it is empty, but that there is a "displacement." To put it radically, the premise of unilateral interpretation itself is wrong, but what becomes a serious problem here is the visions and ideals upheld by international organizations such as the United Nations.

The proposals of ideals and visions in conventional international organizations are set, almost without exception, based on Western thinking—more accurately, based on traditional Western ethics and morals—and do not include the Eastern perspective. Therefore, one cannot call this the ideal of the world; it is merely a fairly limited Western ideal. This Western ideal can be a specific remedy like the aforementioned medicine, but it cannot cure anything in the long term or solve the root of the problem. Just as Western medicine is cutting-edge technology to fight after a disease occurs, the current world is fundamentally based on dealing with problems after they arise, or premised on dealing with them after discovering an enemy likely to cause a problem.

One could say the West was dominant, but ultimately, the war has not ended; wars and conflicts erupt one after another, and corruption is produced in succession. Considering that viruses and cancer cells are identified only for new diseases to be produced by medicine one after another, it is conceivable that ultimately, medicine itself is creating the disease. As soon as this same principle disguises itself as universal without being doubted, the ideals and visions of the world are boldly established. Then, it is self-evident that bugs will inevitably arise in the long term. No one knows whether the current situation will lead to a Third World War, but at the very least, as long as we continue to apply this measure of symptomatic treatment with the world as the standard, it is clear that hatred will only heighten, and as a result, we will plunge into large-scale war. Intervention as a form of symptomatic treatment may appear to settle things in the short term, yet it can invite long-term instability. The limits of a framework that acts only after a problem has arisen show themselves here as well.

Therefore, personally, I believe we should observe the perspective of medicine, which is showing advanced movements on how to create a future where this East-West movement is non-separated, and through that, contemplate the redesign of the world. However, this meaning must not be that the League of Nations or similar bodies, having understood and realized East-West more clearly than now, simply "post-install" Eastern thinking onto the existing framework. We must change the underlying soil itself.

As mentioned before, the creation of a new vantage point—how to perceive the cycle of the bilateral framework of Western medicine's "Discover the enemy and eliminate with a powerful weapon" and Eastern medicine's "Search for the cause, arrange the environment, and nurture natural healing power"—inevitably brings about a great transformation in the attitude toward problems of war, poverty, and natural disasters. In fact, looking at global environmental issues or climate change, the Western way is to discover the enemy and eliminate it with a powerful weapon. This has currently transferred into a political tool, but fundamentally, it does not seem to possess the thinking itself of reexamining the balance of nature as a whole: searching for the cause, arranging the environment, and nurturing natural healing. Because it is nothing more than symptomatic treatment against nature, such confusion does not subside but continues earnestly, and the situation worsens just like a disease. However, to admit that the problem lies in the framework itself would mean questioning the structure of authority built up over the years, so a dynamic takes hold that further subdivides the ever-growing problems and keeps the framework of enemy, weapon, and elimination turning. By this, it can be said that the mechanism of the current world has entered stagnation.

In reality, the stipulation here of "I, an Easterner" and "You, a Westerner" is meaningless. As a practical matter, while even people born and raised in the realm of the Western World are causing a strong reaction against this established method, you might wonder where the meaning lies in discussing the archaic problem of East and West. But strictly speaking, this is a suggestion that the thinking itself is comprised of entirely different principles. To summarize, we must not ask how to incorporate the Eastern vantage point of "Inquire - Arrange - Nurture" into the existing Western world of "Discovery - Weapon - Elimination" (incorporating it will inevitably cause a collision). Rather, understanding the good and bad of both bidirectionally, and evaluating the history of this past century where such challenges of integration were historically attempted, we must think broadly—and execute—how we can arrive at the ideal and truth of the true world.

This is not something that can be done in a few years or decades, but something realized on the scale of several centuries; thus, our standing position is extremely important. For we stand and live at the very turning point of the next transfer from West to East. When we hold the grand perspective that the soil we establish here will decide the next several centuries or millennia, we will be questioned as to why we chose to be born in this era.