Today’s Caribbean Current: Integrating Traditional Plant Medicine and Modern Medicine in the Caribbean Health System

Traditional Plant Medicine and Modern Medicine in the Caribbean
The relationship between traditional plant medicine and modern medicine in the Caribbean is not a debate confined to policy rooms — it lives in kitchens, clinics, and communities every day. From cerasee tea and Dettol to prescribed statins and insulin, Caribbean households navigate both systems simultaneously. The real question is not which system should win, but how traditional plant medicine and modern medicine in the Caribbean can coexist safely, respectfully, and effectively.
The Rituals We Inherit
Why do so many of our grandmothers’ remedies taste so bitter?
Cerasee brewed until nearly black. Garlic crushed raw. Cayenne pepper stirred into everything. Onions tucked into socks. A spoonful of cod liver oil swallowed with reluctance. Dettol diluted in water and used for everything from scraped knees to sore throats. And, of course, that small blue jar of Vicks, neither fully ancestral nor fully pharmaceutical, but deeply ritualized.
Across the Caribbean, illness often begins in the kitchen before it reaches the clinic.
These practices are not relics. They are living behaviors, transmitted through story, repetition, and trust. Even among those formally trained in biomedicine, the instinct to reach first for something “natural” persists. It is rarely an explicit rejection of science. More often, it is an affirmation of autonomy, cultural continuity, and embodied familiarity.
Yet this instinct raises a serious systems question. How should traditional plant medicine and modern medicine relate to one another? Should they compete, coexist, or integrate? And what would responsible integration actually require?
Beyond the Natural vs. Pharmaceutical Divide

Public debate too often frames the issue as a moral contest: natural versus pharmaceutical, ancestral versus corporate, kitchen versus clinic. This framing obscures more than it clarifies. Both traditional plant medicine and modern medicine are structured knowledge systems. Both rely on accumulated observation. Both evolve. Both can produce benefit. Both can produce harm.
The scale of plant-based and complementary medicine use globally challenges the idea that it exists on the margins. A nationally representative survey in the United Kingdom found that nearly two-thirds of adults reported using some form of traditional, complementary, or integrative medicine within a twelve-month period. Usage was particularly high among women, individuals with chronic disease, and people identifying as Black or Asian. Similarly, research among African-Caribbean individuals living with diabetes in the UK documented frequent use of herbal remedies such as cinnamon, aloe vera, and moringa, sometimes alongside prescribed medications and sometimes instead of them. These patterns are not anecdotal. They are measurable and persistent.
Cultural Knowledge in a Globalized World

The assumption that modernization inevitably erodes plant knowledge is more complicated than it first appears.
A transnational study comparing Dominican migrants in New York with residents in the Dominican Republic found that knowledge of medicinal food plants actually increased among migrants. Rather than disappearing, plant knowledge shifted in emphasis and sometimes expanded. Anthropological research in Caribbean communities further demonstrates that medicinal plant knowledge does not simply decline with modernization; it becomes patterned by education, gender, and occupational exposure.
The story is not one of inevitable loss, but of transformation.
Traditional plant medicine is neither frozen in time nor passively fading. It evolves within new social and economic realities.
Trust, Disclosure, and Clinical Risk

Persistence, however, does not resolve the central challenge: safety, coordination, and trust.
The UK-based diabetes study revealed deep skepticism among some African-Caribbean participants toward biomedical prescriptions, including fears of experimentation and mistrust of physicians. Some participants intentionally did not disclose their use of herbal remedies to clinicians.
This concealment is not trivial.
When plant remedies are used concurrently with prescribed medications without clinical awareness, interaction risks increase. Pharmacology does not pause for cultural allegiance.
A striking case report described a Caribbean woman who developed recurrent gastric obstruction from ingestion of cow’s feet stew prepared with hair intact, leading to formation of a trichobezoar. The issue was not tradition itself, but unintended biological consequence.
Culture does not override anatomy. Biology remains indifferent to ideology. Evaluation matters.
What Each System Contributes

Traditional plant medicine offers strengths that are socially and culturally significant. It reinforces identity, strengthens community bonds, encourages preventive self-care, and often provides accessible and affordable remedies. It operates within a holistic understanding of health that integrates emotional, spiritual, and social dimensions.
Modern medicine offers different but equally important strengths: standardized dosing, systematic safety evaluation, reproducible evidence, emergency intervention capacity, and scalable chronic disease management.
Even in laboratory settings, plant-derived substances demonstrate measurable effects when subjected to structured experimentation. Research on Helianthus annuus (sunflower) oil, for example, has shown cardioprotective effects in controlled models of myocardial injury raw. Such findings do not diminish traditional knowledge; they validate the importance of method.
The lesson is not to privilege one system over the other, but to recognize that each answers different kinds of questions.
Incentives, Evidence, and the Pharmaceutical Question

A commonly voiced belief across Caribbean communities is that pharmaceutical companies suppress “free medicine from nature” because it cannot be patented.
This concern reflects legitimate anxieties about pricing, access, and global inequities. It is true that pharmaceutical development is shaped by intellectual property incentives and that standardized derivatives are more easily commercialized than raw plants.
But history consistently shows that when plant compounds demonstrate reproducible therapeutic benefit, they attract scientific interest rather than disappear.
The more productive question may not be whether multinational corporations are hiding cures, but why Caribbean institutions are not systematically evaluating the plants already embedded in our cultural pharmacopeia.
Evidence sovereignty is as important as cultural sovereignty.
Integration Without Romanticization

Research in Aboriginal Australia demonstrates that traditional medicine often operates sequentially, compartmentally, or concurrently with biomedical care. The Caribbean exhibits similar patterns.
People try bush tea first. They escalate to prescribed medication if symptoms persist. Or they use both simultaneously.
When clinicians dismiss traditional plant use, patients conceal it. When communities romanticize plant medicine as universally sufficient, preventable harm may follow.
A responsible integration framework would require deliberate shifts in education, regulation, and research. Medical training must include culturally competent inquiry about plant use. Public health communication must clarify both potential benefits and limits. Ministries of Health should invest in pragmatic, locally grounded research on commonly used remedies. Regulatory systems must ensure safety while respecting cultural ownership of knowledge.
Such integration does not erase heritage. It strengthens it.
Add the Honey. Add the Data.

The bitterness of many traditional remedies offers a useful metaphor. Plants evolved chemical defenses — alkaloids, polyphenols, bioactive compounds — some of which genuinely affect human physiology. But bitterness is not proof. Tradition alone is not proof. Nor is branding alone proof.
The Caribbean does not need to choose between the kitchen and the clinic. It needs disciplined partnership.
Add the honey, certainly. But also add the measurement.
In doing so, we move beyond rivalry and toward something more mature: a coordinated, culturally grounded, evidence-informed health ecosystem in which traditional plant medicine and modern medicine are not adversaries, but collaborators in the shared goal of healthier communities.
Selected Sources
Guardia-Espinoza, E., Herrera-Hurtado, G. L. C., Garrido-Jacobi, S., Cárdenas-Peralta, D., Martínez-Romero, C., Hernández-Figueroa, P., Condori-Calizaya, M., La Barrera-Llacchua, J., & Flores-Ángeles, M. (2015). Protective effect of Helianthus annuus (sunflower) on myocardial infarction in New Zealand rabbits. Revista Peruana de Medicina Experimental y Salud Pública, 32(1), 80–86.
Kiernan, M. F., Kamat, S., & Olagbaiye, F. (2012). Cows-feet soup: A rare cause of recurrent trichobezoar. BMJ Case Reports. https://doi.org/10.1136/bcr-02-2012-5787
Oliver, S. J. (2013). The role of traditional medicine practice in primary health care within Aboriginal Australia: A review of the literature. Journal of Ethnobiology and Ethnomedicine, 9(46). https://doi.org/10.1186/1746-4269-9-46
Sapkota, S., et al. (2025). Factors influencing health-seeking behaviours and self-care practices among black-African Caribbean people living with type 2 diabetes: a community-focused qualitative study from Southwestern England. BMJ Open. https://doi.org/10.1136/bmjopen-2025-099553
van der Werf, E. T., Foley, H., Carter, T., Roberts, R., Adams, J., & Steel, A. (2026). Traditional, complementary and integrative medicine use in the UK population: results of a nationally representative cross-sectional survey. BMJ Open, 16, e104334. https://doi.org/10.1136/bmjopen-2025-104334
Vandebroek, I., & Balick, M. J. (2012). Globalization and loss of plant knowledge: Challenging the paradigm. PLoS ONE, 7(5), e37643. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0037643
Quinlan, M. B., & Quinlan, R. J. (2007). Modernization and medicinal plant knowledge in a Caribbean horticultural village. Medical Anthropology Quarterly, 21(2), 169–192. https://doi.org/10.1525/maq.2007.21.2.169