The death earlier this month of Dr Felix Mann after a long illness marked the end of an era for me, as it no doubt did for many doctors who learnt acupuncture from him in the 1970s. I first met him when I attended his course in 1977. At that time I was interested in oriental philosophies and that made me want to learn acupuncture, but I had no idea how to go about it. Then I happened to talk to a consultant who was head of the Migraine Clinic and who had recently done Felix's course. She told me it was worth while, so I registered for it.
The course was held in Felix's consulting rooms in the large house he had bought in Devonshire Place, in the West End of London. It lasted five days. There were fourteen of us. We sat in a semicircle on rather hard chairs while Felix stood in the middle and talked to us. From time to time patients would arrive to tell their stories and be treated. This was what I was expecting, but there was an early surprise.
Before starting the course we were supposed to read Felix's books. At that time they were based on traditional Chinese acupuncture and I don't think that any of us made very much of them. But this didn't matter because the first thing that Felix said to us was "I don't believe this stuff any more."
I have to admit that my initial reaction was disappointment, since, as I've said, it was an interest in Eastern ideas that had prompted me to learn acupuncture in the first place. But it was undoubtedly a relief to hear that I didn't need to struggle with all this complicated esoteric stuff, and later I was very grateful to Felix. Probably I should have come to a similar conclusion eventually, but he saved me a great deal of time. After the course I set up an acupuncture service at The Royal London Hospital for Integrated Medicine using the methods I had learnt from Felix. Modern medical acupuncture is still one of the main forms of treatment used there.
From our present standpoint in the second decade of the 21st century it is perhaps difficult to realise just how radical Felix's "acupuncture revolution" was. In the late 1950s people thought of acupuncture—if they thought of it at all—wholly in traditional Chinese terms. To describe it in the way he did required Felix to rethink everything he had been taught about acupuncture by all the 'experts' he had encountered.
Felix's acupuncture career
Acupuncture had been practised by quite a number of British doctors in the 1820s but had later fizzled out. By the twentieth century it was virtually unknown here, although it was still used quite extensively in mainland Europe, especially France and Germany. By this time it had become quite traditional, although that had not been the case in the nineteenth century.
As a young doctor Felix had to travel abroad to learn acupuncture since no one was teaching it here; this was comparatively easy for him because he was a good linguist and had plenty of contacts in Europe. He saw acupuncture being used and was impressed by the results. He studied at Montpellier in the south of France and at Munich and Vienna. Later, he even studied Chinese with the help of sinologists in Britain so as to be able to read the classic texts. So his subsequent abandonment of the traditional system wasn't due to lack of knowledge. It was based instead on fresh thinking and exact clinical observation.
By the time I met him in 1977 he had rejected practically all the traditional ideas about acupuncture. He now regarded it as a means of altering the activity of the nervous system and as a treatment that could be explained in terms of the modern understanding of anatomy and physiology. There was no need to talk about qi or yin and yang.
According to his new view, neither acupuncture points nor the so-called meridians exist as they are usually understood. Great precision in locating 'points' is unnecessary; instead we should be thinking of areas. In many cases these could be quite large: for example, in some patients needling anywhere below the knee might have the same effect as using the classic point Liver 3 (Felix's favourite site).
He introduced other departures from tradition as well. One was the use of periosteal (bone) needling, both to treat joint pain such as that due to arthritis and also to produce more generalised effects in a wide area. Another was his recognition of a subset of patients who responded particularly strongly to acupuncture, whom he designated strong reactors. Disorders that usually don't respond to acupuncture might do so in a strong reactor. But if a strong reactor were treated too vigorously the result could be a worsening of the symptoms or a feeling of general malaise lasting for some hours or even days.
As time went by Felix came to believe that many traditionalists over-treated their patients. Increasingly he favoured very gentle treatment, with the insertion of few needles — sometime only one — and the duration of needling being brief: seldom more than a minute or two and quite often just a few seconds.
While these ideas usually horrified traditionalists they were certainly easier for doctors trained in modern medicine to understand and accept. This was fortunate because more now wanted to learn. Felix had started teaching acupuncture to doctors in the 1960s although at first few came forward to learn. But in the 1970s the numbers increased, partly because attitudes to unorthodox treatments were beginning to change but also because advances in the scientific understanding of pain were making acupuncture seem more comprehensible in modern terms. Another influence was President Nixon's visit to China in 1972, which aroused interest in acupuncture on the part of a number of prominent British and American doctors.
Felix's former students constituted an informal medical acupuncture society. He used to circulate a yearly newsletter and each year, in November, he held an acupuncture meeting in his rooms for 70 doctors. There would be seven or eight speakers, usually including Peter Nathan, a well-known neurologist, and Felix provided an excellent lunch, with wine. Attendance was free to his former students; others paid a small fee which cannot have come even near to covering Felix's expenditure.
In 1980 matters were made more formal when the British Medical Acupuncture Society, constituted mainly by Felix's former students, was founded; he was its first President. It now has over 2000 members.
The fact that the acupuncture practised today by British health professionals is mostly non-traditional is largely thanks to Felix. Outside Britain the change has been more gradual. In much of Europe, apart from Sweden and Portugal, and in North and South America, traditional ideas are still influential. But the journal of the British Medical Acupuncture Society, Acupuncture in Medicine, is now a BMJ publication, so Felix's aim of making acupuncture an accepted form of treatment within mainstream medicine has mostly been accomplished. Perhaps most striking of all is the fact that an increasing number of the papers being submitted to the journal now come from China itself.
Felix wrote several books about his later view of acupuncture. The most important of these was Reinventing Acupuncture: A New Concept of Ancient Medicine. The first edition appeared in 1993 and the second in 2000. Here he described how his understanding of the treatment evolved and gave practical details of his methods. I still dip into it from time to time and continue to be impressed by how much my own experience agrees what he describes. All of us who use acupuncture today in a modern context are deeply indebted to him.