Diplomacy

Lately, especially since Memorial Day, I’ve been thinking a lot about the War (or wars, to be more precise); about the realities of war, alternatives to warfare, and also the uses of war as metaphor. Illness is often spoken of in martial terms: one battles against cancer, and there’s a War against AIDS. Certainly one can be grateful for the existence of “big guns” (pharmaceuticals, high-tech surgeries) when dealing with such life-threatening illnesses and serious accidents.

As acupuncturists, however, we mostly practice a kind of medical diplomacy. Instead of carrying out “surgical strikes” or chemotherapy “shock and awe” campaigns, we use our needles to make suggestions. The patient’s qi usually accepts these suggestions, though of course some are more receptive than others. Part of the reason that acupuncture is essentially side-effect free is because of its suggestive, rather than insistent, nature. We can also keep imbalances from “escalating” into the kind of full-blown, biomedically measurable illnesses that may indeed require more serious intervention.

Like acupuncture, diplomacy in the larger world is relatively low-tech: people sit around tables and talk; they might have notepads or documents, there might be a samovar of tea or coffee around, some meals taken together. Acupuncture, like diplomacy, is slower but much less costly than other alternatives, both in terms of obvious up-front costs and in terms of other “casualties,” including environmental impact. Sure, it’s not as dramatic (has there ever been a blockbuster film about summit talks?), but do we really want all healthcare interventions to be orgiastic/thanatotic battles with a “Flight of the Walkyries” soundtrack?

Another thing that’s great about our diplomatic form of medicine is that – leaving aside all of the hours that we spent in school, which after all are still many fewer than those spent by med students – acupuncture can be practiced in a way that is not too labor-intensive (and therefore, less expensive). We can let the needles do the work: the needles, our intention, the patient’s qi and the qi of the universe. Like diplomatic talks, 90% of it involves the interested parties just showing up, with an intention to come to an agreement, to heal something.

We can’t afford to leave healthcare entirely up to a system that makes expensive war on every (biomedically recognizable and reimbursable) illness. Nor are we safe in the hands of a government that thinks diplomacy is for limpwristed francophiles (yoohoo!) and would rather spend billions fighting an unwinnable war on a concept, than prioritize healthcare for all of its citizens regardless of income or employment status. Our president thinks he’s John Wayne; the rest of us are starring in “Sicko.” Let’s give diplomacy a chance.