Modern science describes a very narrow world. This statement is not an attempt to negate the breakthroughs in knowledge brought by science to modern society, nor does it disregard the convenience and comfort of modern life. But it reflects the realization that when science demands rigorous thinking and verification, and modern technology requires quantification and standardization, many things will inevitably be regarded as "absurd" or "superstitious," and will be excluded from the ivory tower of knowledge and discounted as impossible by scientific professionals.

But if modern science is so highly developed, and the accumulated knowledge of mankind so vast, why is it that far from fading away, astrology, fortune telling, folk remedies, divination and other mystical pursuits have actually become more widespread in both East and West?

Perhaps it is because human intellectual life is so complex that science cannot fill its voids-the domains in which humans need help, physically, mentally and spiritually, far exceed the bounds of science. From a different perspective, when compared with various scientific and technical fields, such systems are also undeniably highly creative and provide their own complex explanations. The fact that these somewhat mystical activities have survived through the ages is the result of history and tradition, but there are also deeply practical reasons.

Let us look at the recent fashion for alternative medicine. "Alternative" means outside the mainstream-of secondary status. As such, alternative therapies often represent a last hope for people who have been failed and abandoned by Western medicine. The variety of such therapies now on offer is bewilderingly large, ranging from practices such as shoujing, which have a long popular tradition behind them, to current fads like urine therapy, navel therapy or colonics, to methods such as acupuncture that are seen in the West as alternative therapies, but in fact are staples of traditional Chinese medicine. Adverse outcomes are far from unknown, and are often due to commercial pressures that cause immature procedures to be rushed to market. In view of the potential risks from incompetent or unscrupulous practitioners, there is a need for regulation.

But on a deeper level, the popularity of such therapies surely also represents a backlash against flaws in the mainstream medical system and in the doctor-patient relationship. After Western medicine came to the East a century ago, educated people scorned traditional and folk remedies as backward. But today, in both Taiwan and the West, intellectuals' attitudes to medical treatment are changing again, with some returning to traditional therapies and others seeking "natural" alternative therapies.

Is Western medicine, with its standardized doses, mechanistic surgical procedures and quick-acting drugs, indeed more trustworthy? Is it more scientific? In the history of Western philosophy, there has long been debate over the nature of science. Professor Paul Feyerabend, in his 1975 work Against Method, asserts that the borders between science and nonscientific ideas such as witchcraft, magic and astrology are illusory-there is no substantive difference or clear boundary between science and non-science.

How to distinguish science from non-science is a basic but unresolved issue in the philosophy of science. But when applied to medicine, perhaps this debate tells us that modern medicine should not completely exclude traditional and folk remedies, and that it may not be the only source of objective, universal, correct and valid knowledge. In fact, excessive belief in the superior powers of mainstream medicine may be just as "irrational" as exaggerated faith in alternative therapies and ancestral remedies.

To explain the popularity of alternative medicine, we need to return to the level of basic human needs. Recently, various large hospitals have bowed to popular trends and are providing traditional therapeutic massage as an immensely successful "sideline." Does this perhaps reflect an urgent need for stress-free tender loving care? Does the direct physical contact of massage give some temporary relief and support without the need to give of oneself emotionally in return? For physically and psychologically fragile urbanites, is chatting with the masseur a source of happiness? Is this one reason why alternative therapists, masseurs and reflexologists are so much in demand?

Let us look again at the doctor-patient relationship in mainstream hospitals: when the dermatologist is unexpectedly willing to converse with you for a few moments, you may discover that it in fact is to promote some skincare product; when you go for a postoperative checkup, if all the doctor can muster is a cold and distant "Are you OK, then?" it is hard to imagine that you have entrusted your life into this person's hands; not to mention cases like the recent one at Peicheng Hospital, where one baby died and several others were injured by injections of the wrong medication. The unequal nature of the doctor-patient relationship goes back a long way, but is showing few signs of improvement. No matter whether the reasons lie in the poor design of the healthcare system itself, or individual doctors' inability to cope with stress and emotion, the renewed criticism of the healthcare system following the recent rise in health insurance premiums highlights the need for the mainstream healthcare system to put its house in order.

For the ordinary citizen, health is a subject much closer to the heart than the mayoral elections or political issues, and after health, what concerns everyone most is simply the problems of everyday life. For example, education reform has proved a thorny issue. It is now three years since the regulations on "homeschooling" were relaxed. How do parents who have taken their children's education into their own hands feel about their choice? What insights do they have that might be of value to mainstream education?

The entertainment industry can also give temporary relief from stress. This month we take a look at the latest developments on the TV scene. In recent years, amid the general climate of economic gloom, like anyone else the producers and artists who look so fresh and sparkling on the small screen have had to think of new ways to earn their living, and many have gone to seek pastures new in mainland China. But the difficulties they encounter there are something outsiders may not appreciate.

In mid-November, a Sinorama reporter visited the set where Taiwanese TV producer Young Pei-pei was filming in Suzhou, and was also the only reporter from Taiwan to attend a concert by the Taiwanese group F4 in Beijing. In that land that on the surface appears increasingly open, but where the political barriers have not yet come down and there are still many taboos and ideologically sensitive subjects, how can people from Taiwan's film and entertainment world cut a path for themselves? And how can they bring the ethnic Chinese entertainment industry to new heights? As in many tales of people working away from home, the difficulties they face are even more worth examining than the cheerful and saucy face they present on screen.