The Outlandish Companion - Diana Gabaldon [118]
While science depends ultimately upon rationality (the scientific method) for proof, scientists initially drew material from the old superstitions in their development of theories and hypotheses. In spite of the intellectual ferment of the Enlightenment, the evolution of medicine was thus for a long time still a sort of quasi-science, with a strong metaphysical dimension.
Then—as schools of thought tend to do—things went too far, and any medical practice not rigorously defensible in rational terms was deemed superstitious, unsanitary, and undoubtedly dangerous to the public health.
However, thoughtful people do look back now and then, and thus innovation rediscovers tradition. More things are known in heaven and earth than are dreamt of by many Horatios, and the metaphysical aspects of medicine are returning, with a wholly modern emphasis on “holistic” methods. In fact, the echo between Claire’s methods and the present-day interest in holistic and natural healing techniques is purely fortuitous, but it was… er … timely.
“Metaphysical!” is one of those entertaining words with multiple definitions and shades of meaning, but as used in this context, it generally means “of, or relating to, what is perceived as transcendant, supersensible, or transcendental“ or ”neither analytic nor subject to empiric verification.“ What one colleague of mine helpfully refers to as ”woo-woo stuff.”
Modern medicine now generally accepts the notion that there is a strong interrelationship between mind and body, even though the precise nature of its operation is unknown—i.e., metaphysical. Since it is unknown, there exists an area of mystery in the realm of healing, which in some cultures is called “magic” or “shamanism”—but which is nonetheless an important component of the art of healing, regardless of the forms involved.
For example, a modern doctor may under some circumstances dispense treatment that he or she knows has relatively little therapeutic value, but that nonetheless makes the patient feel better or recover more quickly, owing to the placebo effect—that is, there is a beneficial effect connected with the simple act of treating illness, regardless of the actual physical effects of the treatment. (“Treatment” being loosely defined here, to cover everything from simple attention to the administration of substances or invasive procedures.) By exactly the same token, a person from a shamanistic culture will often be improved by a healing ceremony, whether the ceremony has any directly apparent physical effect or not.
In other words, there is a magical aspect to the practice of medicine, and always has been, though this aspect was decried and ignored for some time, in the excitement (fully justified, by the way; the Germ Theory is no small thing) of scientific discovery.
Given the circumstances of Claire’s story—her disappearance through standing stones—there was plainly going to be an air of mystery and magic about it. What occupation could be more appropriate than that of healer—an occupation that has about it the same air of mystery and hint of magic? What better choice of occupation for a time-traveler, whose life itself turns back—and back again—upon itself, with new truths revealed by each change of perspective?
The processes of the body are both intensely personal and highly cryptic, which gives us the sense of significance and mystery that we call “magic.” The same mixture of significance and mystery underlies religious feeling, and it is no coincidence that most healers in primitive societies are also priests. Religion and science lie at opposite ends of the spectrum of rationality, with medicine balanced somewhere in the middle. The important thing to note is that it