2009-02-23

There have been constant rumors about unethical Chinese medicine—heavy metals in herbs, kidney failure from taking them, or long-term treatments that don’t work. Why is this happening? Let me tell you the reason: it all comes down to unscrupulous practitioners and pharmacies.

My family runs a 60-year-old wholesale Chinese herb business, acting as a middleman between import traders and retail pharmacies or clinics. After graduating from university, I returned to take over the family business and gradually noticed some serious issues. I’ve argued with my father many times over differing principles, which is why I decided to write this post to shed light on the matter.

Let’s talk about Chinese herbs first. Everyone knows they’re plant-based, and like any plant, they can wither or rot—just like fruit. Those big, flawless fruits you see? They’re usually loaded with pesticides. Similarly, if Chinese herbs look unnaturally large and pristine, chances are they’ve been treated with additives.

Take the classic "Si Wu Tang" (Four Substances Decoction), for example. It’s made from four herbs: Angelica sinensis (Dang Gui), Ligusticum chuanxiong (Chuan Xiong), Paeonia lactiflora (Bai Shao), and Rehmannia glutinosa (Shu Di). Though it seems simple, there’s a lot to unpack.

Let’s start with Bai Shao (white peony root). We sell two types: regular and sulfur-free. The sulfur-free version costs 20 NT dollars more per unit, yet surprisingly, the regular version sells much better. Many pharmacies order 10 or 20 jin (a traditional weight unit) of the regular kind, while the sulfur-free one barely moves.

Then there’s Shu Di (prepared rehmannia). There are several varieties, but I’ll compare two. The first is traditionally processed—dark, sticky, and naturally sweet-smelling. The second is artificially "plumped"—large, round, and visually appealing but far less aromatic. The price difference can be 40-50 NT dollars, yet most pharmacies still order the artificially enhanced version in bulk. The key difference? When boiled, the traditional one dissolves properly, releasing its full medicinal properties, while the artificial one leaves behind strange residues.

The same applies to other herbs. Just like how cabbage can be wild, organic, or pesticide-laden, herbs of the same name vary drastically in quality. The problem? While you can usually tell the difference between vegetables, most people—even trained TCM practitioners—can’t distinguish processed herbs from authentic ones once they’re sliced or treated differently.

What if someone loads herbs with excessive additives like sulfur or dyes, then claims they’re "premium Taiwanese products" or "ethically sourced"? Consumers, lacking expertise, have no choice but to trust—and often get scammed. Once, while visiting a pharmacy, I saw a customer buying sliced ginseng. Knowing its actual cost and market price, I was shocked when the owner charged six times the wholesale rate. At our shop, selling it for even double the cost felt like a stretch, yet this pharmacy had a steady stream of customers paying exorbitant prices.

The takeaway? The industry’s problems stem from greed and deception. Without proper knowledge, consumers are left vulnerable. It’s time to demand transparency and accountability.On the contrary, some traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) shops that insist on using authentic, high-quality herbs are struggling with little business. The ratio is roughly ten to three—out of ten TCM pharmacies or practitioners, only three stick to genuine ingredients and honest practices, from what I’ve observed.

Here, the big-name pharmacies are the ones I despise the most. They always want to buy the cheapest stuff from us. If our wholesale prices are even slightly higher, they refuse to buy from us. Of course, these are the clients my father deals with—I want nothing to do with them. But every time he comes back from visiting them, he ends up sourcing the products they demand. He even tells me, "Listen, when you handle procurement in the future, don’t buy the best or finest herbs. In times like these, as long as it’s usable, that’s enough. Besides, not many customers care about quality." That’s when I lose my temper. I tell him, "Dad, this is wrong. You’ve worked in TCM long enough to know what’s good and what’s bad. Why enable these unethical practices? If those shops are hard to deal with, just walk away. No wonder people say TCM doesn’t work or causes kidney problems—it’s because of this kind of behavior!" He just sighs and says, "What can we do? The TCM industry has always been this way. Everyone’s cutting costs, and as middlemen, we have to make a living." I snap back, "No, it’s not that you *can’t* do better—it’s that you *won’t*. When I take over, I’ll change this. People deserve good TCM. My own health was built on it, so I’ll make sure others see its value too. I won’t stock cheap substitutes. I’d rather earn less but provide quality herbs. If you want to keep dealing with those shops, go ahead." We’ve had this argument many times.

In the end, what I want to say is this: TCM isn’t ineffective, and it doesn’t cause kidney failure if used properly. TCM is a great thing—but the key is to find ethical TCM pharmacies or practitioners.

I was born with congenital heart disease and grew up taking my family’s TCM remedies. I didn’t undergo surgery until middle school. The surgeon even asked my parents how I’d managed to survive so long without medical intervention. The answer? Our family’s TCM. That’s why I believe in its power—it just takes time. Sure, I might take painkillers like Panadol for headaches sometimes, but when it comes to regulating my constitution, I always turn to TCM.

I don’t want to offend TCM shops or practitioners, but I urge you to act with conscience and medical ethics. Think of the consumers—use better-quality herbs. So what if prices are higher and profits thinner? You won’t lose a limb or die from it. If there’s no demand for cheap substitutes, we middlemen won’t source them, and suppliers won’t cut corners to lower costs. It’s a chain reaction, layer by layer.

So, consumers, open your eyes and choose ethical TCM providers. And TCM practitioners and pharmacies—step up. Don’t let Western medicine or consumers dismiss TCM as ineffective. If you weren’t cutting corners or chasing cheap options, would this even be an issue? I know many started with principles, but reality wore them down. If you still have any integrity left, stick to authentic herbs. Don’t buy based on price alone—why else did you become a TCM practitioner or open a pharmacy? Wasn’t it to help people? But if you use subpar medicine, how is that helping anyone?There's also the four-herbs pack for fifty dollars—why is everyone rushing to buy it? Don’t they know it’s full of sulfur and additives?

And for a long time now, most of the medicinal herbs in Taiwan have been imported from mainland China. Many of these things simply can’t be produced in Taiwan due to the climate and the lack of large-scale land for cultivation. So if someone claims everything is from Taiwan, there’s definitely something fishy going on.

Source: http://www. mobile01. com/ topicdetail. php? f=330& t=950703& p=1