As an undergraduate student, I conducted a series of in vitro experiments on Phytolacca americana, a North American plant long used as a panacea by natives. Although it is highly unlikely to ever become the drug of choice for the disease we chose to work with, it did prove to be surprisingly efficacious. However, as with the vast majority of indigenous remedies with which I am familiar, it comes with dangerous side effects and can prove deadly if improperly prepared. What's worse is that the plant is being promoted by some who see indigenous remedies as inherently superior to those provided by modern medicine but who are neglecting to thoroughly research and explicitly warn potential consumers about the risks associated with its use and misuse, risks that were commonly known among those who have traditionally used it. In effect, this deadly plant is being romanticized, a risk that will have to be thoroughly accounted and adjusted for if indigenous remedies wax in popularity. Moreover, while a plethora of plantsincluding this oneare quite effective against a variety of ailments, it is not always against those for which they have been traditionally used. In fact, this plant is purported to cure the very things it actually produces, a trend that is likely commonplace when the knowledge-bears and the consumers are separated by culture, time, and place.
It therefore seems logical that scientists researching potential new drugs consult with those who have cultural and historical knowledge of the disease and its treatment(s), but proceed cautiously with their research, always keeping in mind the possibility that they may discover a new first-line drug, a drug that is equivalent to what is already on the market, a placebo, or something that is far more akin to a poison that to a medicine; indigenous remedies certainly have a place in modern medicine, but their place should always be earned without prejudice or preference, as befits anything with the potential to harm consumers.