I have always been fascinated by the difference between plants
and the drugs that are isolated from them. This goes back to my
student days at Harvard in the 1960s, where I received my
undergraduate degree in botany, and then went on to medical
school. It's rare -- too rare, I have to say -- for botanists to
become doctors. The experience gave me a unique perspective on
health and medicine. For four decades, I've been skeptical of a
prevailing belief in Western medicine: when a plant shows
bioactivity in humans, we must attribute that effect to a
single, predominant compound in the plant. We label that the
"active principle," isolate it, synthesize it, and make a
pharmaceutical out of it. Then, typically, we forget about the
plant. We don't study any of the other compounds in it or their
complex interactions. This belief persists for two reasons.
First, it makes research much easier. Single compounds can be
manufactured in pure, standardized dosages, which simplifies
clinical trials. (However, technology has