School of Intuitive Herbalism
Learning from the plants directly
The many languages of herbalism
exploring the complex weave of voices in the herbal literature
‘This page accompanies a Medium/Patreon article called ‘Herbalism and the inheritance of silence’. It ties closely to another article ‘The Witch Wound in Herbalism’ which explores in a little more detail why some voices have become more hidden.
This page is designed to give examples of the various use of language found in the herbal literature. This project emerged from my experience over 20 years ago of spending two years in the library of the Edinburgh Botanic Garden training as a Medical Herbalist. During this time I attempted to read every (accessible) published work when researching each herb. Most days my desk had a pile of around 30 books on it (I ran out of space for more!) and I would laboriously read each entry, comparing them to other herbals. What I found was both fascinating and disappointing. There was a lot of repetition. Now, some of this repetition may well be because what was spoken of was a deep truth, echoed through the ages. However, it was clear that the subject matter was at risk of multiple fallacies and epistemic risks. It feels important to point out that none of these negates the validity of words shared, but does mean that they need to be considered when reading herbal literature.
– Appeal to authority (this well regarded herbalist writes it, so I will echo it)
– Appeal to tradition (it has always been so, so I will repeat it)
– Appeal to consensus (everyone agrees this, so it must be so)
– Citation cascading (layering of narrative)
– Argument by repetition (this is always said of this herb, so it must be true)
– Epistemic inertia (reluctance to challange the prevailing world view)
These fallacies are in addition to the risks that emerge through opaque intentionality. This is easiest to see with marketing slogans, e.g. ‘supports the immune system‘. Though there may well be some truth in this very general statment, what is more relavent here is the intentionality – to market, promote and sell a product. Below are a few of the common literary themes often found when diving into the literature of herbalism. It is by no means complete, but it does gives a taste for the complexity of the weave:
‘Support your immune system … ‘ (Link – one example of many!)
– Marketing / PR / Sales – tends to be short and attention grabbing – designed to be easy to repeat, thus will often appear on social media. Refence to the immune system is an appeal to authority in the form of physiological / biomedical language.
‘The flowers, either green or dried, are much used in possets, broths, and drink, as a comforter of the heart and spirits, and to expel any malignant or pestilential quality which might annoy them.’ (Link)
– Culpeper speaking of Marigold. The meanings of heart, spirits, expel, malignant and perilential are all distinct to the 17th Century, and though I’m sure we get close to understanding his meaning it is impossible to know the full understanding of these words in the times in which he lived.
‘Rosemary is hot and dry in the second degree, and also of an astringent or binding quality, as being compounded of divers parts, and taking more of the mixture of the earthy substance’ (Link)
– John Gerard (17th Century): The meanings of hot, dry and second degree are specific to humoralism. It seems to me that the word astringent is likely fairly consistent across the ages (as it is something that is very easy and immediate to experience), but binding is less used today. When speaking of hot / heating / cold / cooling, modern authors will sometimes draw on traditional European, Unani, TCM and Ayurvedic sources – all of which have slightly different meanings and therapeutic significance associated with these words. The phrase ‘earthy substance’ is interesting and alludes to the deeper framing of humoralism within a Galenic-Aristotlean world view where everything is composed of earth, water, air and fire. As with hot / cold etc, the meanings and understandings individual’s have of these elements vary across time, culture and, of course, individual experiences.
‘Used with salt, it was formerly applied for the purpose of taking away wens, and had the reputation of cleansing sores and easing the pains of gout.’ (Link)
– Mrs. M. Grieve (1931). ‘Wens’ is an interesting term, as in modern clinical language it might refer to a benign tumour, a cyst, a lipoma, or a lymphatic swelling. In humoral terms, wens may be seen as the thickening and settling of earthy qualities. Gout is likely to have been used in a wider sense than it is today. In modern clinical medicine, gout refers specifically to uric acid crystal deposition in joints, whereas in the early twentieth century it was often used more broadly to describe inflammation, pain, and stiffness in the joints and extremities. It may at times have encompassed conditions now understood as osteoarthritis, rheumatoid arthritis, bursitis, or other inflammatory joint disorders.
‘It is contraindicated in diseases of a passive character, on account of its refrigerant and sedative effects on the system, but may be used freely in fevers and all acute diseases. It has been recommended in scorbutic and nervous affections, but can not be depended upon.’ (Link)
– Kings American Dispensatory (1898) – though American was widely known in Britain. Refrigerant did not simply imply cooling temperature, but a reduction of excessive heat, vascular tension, or inflammatory excitation within the system. Likewise, sedative referred less to suppression or tranquillisation, and more to the calming of over-stimulation or irritability in tissues and nerves – both subtly different from how they might be understood today. Acute and passive also have their own distinct meanings within this system, acute generally referring to active, hot or excessive states whilst passive referred to lack of tone, weakness and stagnation.
‘The most cited ethnomedicinal plant species was Alysicarpus quartinianus A. Rich., whose roots and leaves were reported by traditional healers to be crushed in fresh and applied as a lotion on the lesions of patients of Abiato (Shererit). No significant correlation was observed between the age of traditional healers and the number of species reported and the indigenous knowledge transfer was found to be similar.’ (Link)
– This is a fairly typical example of the language used in ethnobotanical journals. Though deeply critiqued within anthropology, a style of writing characterised by performative neutrality is apparent here. This can be seen in features such as third-person reporting, distance from the subject, and passive constructions (e.g. “was observed,” “was found”). This is not intended as a critique, since these are disciplinary conventions; to write otherwise would risk the work not being accepted for publication.
‘Key findings demonstrated that tea tree oil was particularly effective for acne treatment, while lavender and rosemary oils showed promising anti-inflammatory and anti-aging properties. Plant extracts from Ocimum gratissimum and Matricaria chamomilla also yielded positive results for skin health improvement.’ (Link)
– For anyone reading clinical research papers about plants, this will be very familiar language. It is striking how frequently the term anti-inflammatory appears in the literature. There are good reasons for this: anti-inflammatory activity is relatively straightforward to assay in vitro, producing reproducible results that lend themselves well to publication. However, this also provides a clear example of how language can be taken out of context and repurposed for marketing or social-media soundbites, implying a broad, systemic, all-encompassing anti-inflammatory effect when the original findings may in fact be highly specific — for example, topical effects on particular epithelial cell lines only
All of these – and many more – are to be found in the herbal literature. Perhaps even more important is the voices that are missing … the old lore that was Christanised beyond recognition, or simply destroyed, the oral traditions that were never written down, the folk knowledge that slowly died away.
But given the material we do have, at least we can approach it with discernment – below is a bullet point list of just some of the ways the complexities within herbal literature might cause confusion:
-
Reading historical terms (e.g. heart, spirits, gout, wens) as if they correspond to modern clinical categories
-
Mistaking repetition across texts for corroboration rather than citation-driven inheritance
-
Allowing the authority of named authors to substitute for contextual understanding of their worldview
-
Treating long-standing usage as evidence of accuracy rather than continuity of transmission
-
Collapsing distinct medical systems (humoral, physiomedical, Unani, TCM, Ayurvedic, biomedical) into a single, flattened interpretive frame
-
Translating metaphorical or cosmological language (e.g. earthy substance, hot and dry) into literal physiological mechanisms
-
Confusing descriptive ethnobotanical documentation with endorsement or therapeutic validation
-
Assuming apparent objectivity or neutral tone implies absence of worldview or power dynamics
-
Reading early modern diagnostic categories as stable disease entities rather than experiential groupings
-
Generalising specific, local, or contextual uses into universal claims
-
Extending in vitro or topical research findings into broad systemic or whole-body effects
-
Allowing marketing language to appropriate scientific phrasing while stripping away scope and limitation
-
Confusing reproducibility of laboratory assays with relevance to lived or clinical outcomes
-
Treating publication conventions (passive voice, distancing language) as epistemic truth rather than disciplinary constraint
-
Losing sight of relationship, encounter, and situated meaning in favour of portable, repeatable phrases
Thankyou for reading – this article feels like it has been stored up in me for many years (since my early twenties sitting in the botanic garden library) so really good to finally share it!
As any student if the school will know – I always recommend spending at least a few months getting to know a plant personally before you even dive into the literature. This is one way in which we can nurture the experiential and give the time and space for our own deep ancestral wisdom to emerge.