Author: Xiao
Reviewer: Dongda
Night of February 23, 2020

Opening Remarks

  This book was jointly edited by the cell biologist Wang Yahui and the Chinese Academy of Sciences researcher Wu Zhichun. In the early 1990s, they used questionnaires and expert panels to gather the views of more than 400 specialists in biology-related fields on the discipline’s development over the following thirty years. The experts considered the broad direction of biology, its likely peaks of development, major disciplinary questions, and its relationship with other fields. Looking back at the book in 2020 is particularly meaningful. The book also explains why biology matters: scientific progress has brought material civilization to a high level, yet cast a deep shadow over spiritual life, even causing spiritual deprivation and collapse; the fundamental way out is to learn from life itself.

  As everyone knows, “the twenty-first century is the century of biology,” in the words of Chen Zhangliang. Biology graduates today are widely criticized for their employment prospects and salaries, but we must still acknowledge that the life sciences—what people once simply called biology—and biotechnology profoundly shape every part of our lives. Take the recent outbreak: nucleic-acid testing and methods of treatment alike depend on advances in biotechnology, while high-throughput testing and drug targeting are themselves subjects of life-science research. This indirectly confirms the value of the forecasts made by senior scholars thirty years ago. Later developments validated their emphasis on the future importance of molecular biology, brain science and neuroscience, the need to develop behavioral science—mainland China’s first course in it had opened at Peking University only in 1988—and directions in macroecology. The book also proposed a “biopsychosocial medical model,” a concept that seemed ahead of its time from the perspective of conventional Western medicine but self-evident to traditional Chinese medicine. Two developments, however, went beyond its predictions.

  The first is that molecular-biology technology advanced far beyond expectations. The frontier reports of the time still focused on determining protein tertiary structures from crystal structures and anticipated greater progress along that path—a sound prediction in its day. Those scholars could not have imagined that, more than twenty years later, mature cryo-electron microscopy would make three-dimensional structures both more accurate and accessible across a much wider range of targets. Under Shi Yigong’s leadership, China has also become a world leader in this field. An interesting detail appears in the Chinese Academy of Sciences’ 2013 biological forecast of future scientific development. The volume was divided into sections; every other article listed several principal authors and collaborating institutions, but the section on the future of structural biology named “Boss Shi” as its sole author, perhaps reflecting the extraordinary strength of his work. P.S. After attending one of Boss Shi’s classes, a certain student at Peking University decided to pursue the life sciences. That says a great deal about Professor Shi’s personal appeal. Sadly, I never had the chance to hear him in person. (A weakling howls from the corner.)

  All right, back to the subject.

  The most intriguing feature of this forecast is a section on research into human functions, including latent functions. It says that the human body possesses extraordinarily refined, flexible, and effective capacities for converting matter and energy, processing information, and regulating itself—capacities many times more sophisticated, flexible, and effective than the artificial functions of machines created by existing science and technology. This, it argues, demonstrates the importance of studying human functions. What did that phrase mean here? It referred to the meridians and qigong of traditional Chinese medicine, as well as the disputed effects of externally emitted qi and paranormal abilities. The book argued that rigorous verification and scientific investigation of these phenomena and questions would benefit the healthy future development of traditional Chinese medicine. At the time, this field was also called human-body science or human life science. The volume included “A Complementary Understanding of Human Life” by the biomechanics specialist Tao Zulai, who described the field as follows: “In human-body science, it is difficult to reconcile its epistemological and methodological foundations with the standards of modern science. It might be called ‘Research into Human Potential and the Functional States of the Movement of Life.’ One may hold that there is a path for understanding the laws governing our own living activity whose epistemological and methodological foundations differ from those of modern science. It is different from, yet complementary to, the cognitive path of the modern life sciences. Chinese medicine represents one system through which humanity understands the movement of its own life. It regards human life as a unity of form (essence), qi, and spirit. Their relationship is: ‘Form is the dwelling place of life; qi is what fills life; spirit is what governs life.’ The meridians are the system through which qi is transported and transformed. The practice of hundreds of millions of people over several thousand years proves that the understanding of human life embodied in Chinese medicine possesses objective, relative truth. Clinical experience tells us that it is impossible to explain the principles of Chinese medicine through modern biomedicine and then regulate Chinese medicine according to modern medicine. This reveals the opposition between the theoretical systems and methodological foundations of Chinese and modern medicine. Only by beginning with their fundamental differences in understanding human life can we establish an internal connection between them and achieve a higher unity. The key is how we understand qi.” Such theories clearly enjoyed considerable acceptance at the time: they appeared in a national outlook on scientific development and occupied meaningful space within it. The author also predicted that “qigong medicine will make great strides over the next 10–30 years, establish its own distinctive standards, and achieve relatively wide application.” This was indeed the height of the “qigong fever.” Qigong and related theories entered many fields. Even Qian Xuesen and other prominent experts published articles about them, and studies appeared claiming that qigong could significantly increase yields in chemical experiments. (I have read several; with my limited knowledge, I could only slap the desk and exclaim, “What extraordinary papers!” Interested readers can search CNKI.) Thirty years later, however, recently published literature shows that the academic community’s interest in qigong has clearly waned and attitudes have reversed completely. It has become something closer to semientertainment than science. What happened during those thirty years to transform the status of qigong and traditional Chinese medicine so dramatically? Events in the late 1990s may have dealt qigong a severe blow, but setting those aside, as students of Chinese medicine—or simply as people with some scientific literacy—we should ask whether the problem lay in the subject itself or in how it developed. How were the experiments in those papers designed? Where were the flaws? If the subject itself was not the problem, how might it continue to develop and flourish? These questions deserve thought and investigation. Whether one attacks Chinese medicine or supports it uncritically, such positions usually arise from a single, incomplete perspective. Neither should be encouraged, and neither merits a rebuttal.

  Time is the best witness, and no phrase suits this book better. In thirty years, some disciplines advanced rapidly, while others stood still or gradually declined. What went wrong? Were they unsound from the moment they appeared, or merely products of their time? If we believe they were neither, where does their future lie? Amid the current outbreak, Chinese-medicine treatments have achieved major results and broad recognition from many quarters, proving that our methods are genuinely effective. What, then, can first-year students of Chinese medicine do? The answer is four characters in Chinese: “study hard,” because the best repayment is to join the fight ourselves in the future! (I seem to have wandered from the subject.) I sincerely hope that Chinese medicine will be recognized and used more widely. At the start of a new decade, may we look back ten years from now and find that it has benefited more people, restored its good name, and opened the way to a better future. It will. The book is certainly old, but it lets us see the state of biology thirty years ago. I have given only two examples; much more remains to be discovered within it, and many questions still deserve reflection. Let it serve as a reference as we grasp the present and look toward the future.

  The book is available in the west-campus library at Beijing University of Chinese Medicine’s Liangxiang campus, so you can borrow it. While learning our professional subjects, we also need to read widely, broaden our horizons, and think carefully. I wonder how everyone has spent the holiday during the outbreak. Online classes have already begun! Pack your little medical-school bags and join me in the ocean of diagnostics, Chinese materia medica, anatomy, histology and embryology, modern Chinese history, ideological and moral cultivation, and English. When studying becomes tiring, sit down with a book, listen to a song, watch a film, play a game, or jot down the small moments of the day—each is a fine way to relax. With time to spare, why not show your skills in the kitchen? They say people who can cook are more attractive! Share any of these things; you might even meet someone whose soul matches your own.

  Finally, finally: enjoy the start of online classes (smile…). I look forward to seeing everyone again at BUCM when spring is warm and the flowers bloom, or perhaps in early summer. Washington’s army at Valley Forge will eventually reach Yorktown (that is another story), and we will meet in the place where there is no darkness (the next book!).