On Choosing a Doctor at Pingxintang
By what should we judge a doctor's ethics and skill? By their professional rank and grade? By their age and seniority? No — none of these. The measure of a doctor can only be the patient's word. A doctor's duty is solely to relieve the patient's suffering and to set body and mind in harmony — with no desire and no demand, with the great compassionate and pitying heart that delivers all sentient beings universally.
Medicine is the art of benevolence. Those who use medicine as a means of profit, or as a ladder for climbing in name and rank — though such people are not few, and we see them often — are despised by us in the end, and held in contempt by the people in the end.
Virtue precedes craft. The depth of virtue is what carries the refinement of craft. Those who flatter and maneuver to win favor; who guard their own name and reputation to keep themselves safe; who play at appearances and angles for advantage; who act out of jealousy and meanness to bring others down — though they may have their hour and deceive in their corner, in the end they will lose their craft together with their virtue, and their clinical efficacy is sure to fall sharply and stop dead.
Looking back over Pingxintang's first decade, the choice of doctor has rested entirely with the patient. The patient's eye is the brightest: those whose business depends on loud advertising and self-puffery have, decisively, no market. The patient's feeling is the deepest: those who put on a show and stand in for real practitioners must, sooner or later, be exposed.
To respect the patient's choice, and to rely on the patient to choose the doctor — that is the only true way to evaluate a physician. Those who, on the front line of medicine, work conscientiously, earnestly, soberly, and openly are, in the patient's heart, the best of doctors. Yes, they will sometimes err; sometimes be at a loss in their own conscience; sometimes endure unspeakable awkwardness; sometimes feel the unsavable pain of a patient lost. But they will draw experience and lesson from all of it, refine their craft, and rise another level. Given time, they will inevitably win patients' understanding and respect.
The patient is the best examiner a doctor can have. Patients do not read papers, do not sit through defenses, do not weigh pedigree, are not awed by titles, and are not afraid of the occasional short-term misjudgment. Where there are clear-eyed patients, there will be illustrious physicians in steady supply. The true gold of doctoring, sifted from the great wave of patients, is bound to shine. History tells us this; reality keeps confirming it.
The state may name "great physicians." Tongrentang may name "great physicians." Pingxintang does not. Not naming them does not mean none exist. Pingxintang relies only on the patient. The great physicians in patients' hearts cannot be denied by anyone.