ver the course of the last century, medicine has witnessed astonishing progress. Scientific breakthroughs in diagnostics, pharmaceuticals and surgical techniques have extended human lifespans and offered cures to once-fatal diseases. Yet alongside these triumphs has emerged a paradox: the more technologically advanced medicine has become, the more mechanical and impersonal it often feels to patients. Doctors, once revered as healers who combined scientific knowledge with human empathy, are increasingly perceived as technicians operating within rigid systems of efficiency, specialisation and protocols. Ironically, this shift has made it easier to imagine a future where artificial intelligence (AI) agents, rather than human physicians, play the central role in diagnosis and treatment.
While AI has undeniable potential in enhancing efficiency and accuracy, its rise exposes a fundamental truth: what makes medicine deeply meaningful and healing cannot be reduced to algorithms or protocols. The humanistic and holistic aspects of medicine—empathy, contextual judgment and an understanding of patients as whole persons—remain irreplaceable. If the medical profession is to resist total mechanisation and maintain its humanity, doctors must reclaim a holistic approach that prioritises the patient as a person rather than a case file.
The mechanisation of medicine did not happen overnight. It was the product of historical shifts in medical training, institutional pressures and the increasing dominance of technology. Modern hospitals and clinics are structured like industrial systems, with patients moving from registration desks to laboratories, to specialists’ offices and back again. Doctors, often overwhelmed by large patient loads and administrative tasks, spend more time entering data into electronic health records than engaging in meaningful dialogue with patients.
This fragmentation of care—where cardiologists treat the heart, dermatologists the skin and psychiatrists the mind—reflects a reductionist philosophy. Patients are no longer seen as integrated beings with interconnected physical, emotional and social lives. Instead, they are viewed as collections of symptoms mapped onto standardised treatment protocols. Such an approach certainly enables precision in certain contexts, but it strips medicine of its holistic sensibility.
In this environment, the physician-patient relationship—the cornerstone of healing for millennia—has been devalued. Appointments are rushed, empathy is scarce and the subjective experience of the patient is often sidelined. The clinical gaze has become more about numbers on a screen than about the lived reality of illness. When medicine loses its human touch, it risks becoming indistinguishable from any other form of mechanical service delivery.
If the medical profession is to avoid being eclipsed by the AI, it must reclaim its humanistic roots. This does not mean rejecting technology; rather, it means using technology as a tool while centring care around human connection.
It is precisely this mechanisation that makes the entry of AI into medicine appear natural, even welcome. If a physician’s role is reduced largely to inputting symptoms, checking guidelines and prescribing from a standardised menu of treatments, then an algorithm can arguably perform the same tasks with greater efficiency and accuracy. AI systems trained on vast datasets can identify patterns in medical images faster than most radiologists, generate treatment recommendations based on patient histories and predict disease risks with great statistical precision.
In fact, many patients already interact with AI-like systems when booking appointments online, receiving automated follow-ups or using chatbots for basic triage. The more medicine becomes transactional and data-driven, the more patients may feel indifferent about whether their advice comes from a human or a machine. This should serve as a warning to the profession: if doctors limit themselves to mechanical tasks, they will be replaced. But if they embrace their irreplaceable human functions, they can redefine their place in a technologically augmented medical system.
Illness is not merely a biological dysfunction; it is also a disruption of one’s life narrative, identity and sense of well-being. A holistic approach recognises that healing involves the mind, body and spirit, as well as the social environment in which a patient lives. Consider the simple act of listening. When a doctor listens attentively, patients feel acknowledged as more than their symptoms. This validation can itself have therapeutic effect, reducing anxiety and fostering trust. AI, no matter how advanced, cannot provide genuine empathy. It can simulate conversation, but it cannot understand suffering in a human sense. Similarly, cultural sensitivity, moral reasoning and ethical judgment are profoundly human dimensions of care that defy codification.
Moreover, many health conditions are intertwined with lifestyle, family dynamics and socioeconomic circumstances. A doctor who practices holistically takes into account these complexities rather than focusing solely on the immediate disease. They might consider a patient’s stress levels, community support and emotional resilience—factors that play no small role in recovery. AI may process health records, but it cannot sit with a grieving patient, comfort a worried family or help someone find meaning in their illness.
If the medical profession is to avoid being eclipsed by the AI, it must reclaim its humanistic roots. This does not mean rejecting technology; rather, it means using technology as a tool while centring care around human connection. Medical education must shift its emphasis away from rote memorisation and technical specialisation toward cultivating empathy, communication skills, cultural awareness and competence. Healthcare institutions must also resist the relentless drive toward efficiency that shortchanges human interaction. Longer consultations, interdisciplinary teamwork and integration of mental health and social support into medical practice can restore a holistic perspective. Importantly, doctors should recognise that healing is not always about curing. Sometimes, the role of the physician is to accompany patients through suffering, offering dignity and compassion even when medical solutions are limited.
The mechanisation of medicine has eroded the richness of the doctor-patient relationship and opened the door for the AI to step in as a replacement. What makes medicine truly healing— a humanistic approach—remains beyond the reach of algorithms. The future of medicine should not be a competition between humans and machines but a partnership where technology supports doctors in their uniquely human role as healers. By reclaiming a holistic approach, doctors can ensure that medicine remains not only effective but also humane.
The writer is a published anthropologist. She has taught at the International Islamic University, Islamabad, and National University of Medical Sciences. She is also a Red Cross/ Red Crescent Youths as Agents of Behavioural Change trainer.