I hate all alternative therapists, largely because they're undereducated, malignant, jealous, greedy and manipulative liars. That's what everybody likes to assume that I think. Here I am, just a nice guy in a boring tie, trying to do the best for his patients and their grave medical problems, by whatever means are most likely to work, who just happens not to find crystals or herbs very interesting, and you all think I'm a blinkered, white, middle-class, male phallocrat on a science power trip, imposing his authority and maintaining the hegemony at the expense of his patients' holistic well-being. God, I hate alternative therapists.

So, I met this alternative therapist at a party, and immediately she put me on the defensive. This happens a lot when you're a doctor at a party trying to get drunk, on one of the rare occasions when you're not actually working, and everyone else thinks you're attending as the earthly representative of an ancient and mysterious brotherhood, who is, by turns, selflessly benevolent and deeply sinister. Generally, I can see it coming a long way off.

"So," they say. "You're a doctor?" The laser sights settle in on your forehead. "Doctors told my mum she had the flu and she was dead from cancer in three weeks."

My fault.

So this time, as the earthly representative of my people, I've managed to get an alternative therapist on my case, and she's spoiling for a fight. I cast around in my head for a conciliatory opening line that will present me as a broad-minded, intelligent, attractive and only slightly drunk junior doctor who is very interested in - but not unappealingly desperate about - snogging glamorous and feisty alternative therapists at parties.

"I just want whatever's best for my clients." Check that: I just said the word "clients". "I only really worry if I think they might be financially exploited," I smile, winningly. "Or emotionally manipulated," I add, unconsciously, on autopilot. And then grit my teeth.

"Emotionally manipulated?" Her eyebrows jump around in time to her voice. The fact is, I've seen some patients get seriously done over by alternative therapists, although I could probably convince myself it was the work of a scurrilous minority in a necessarily unregulated industry. Obviously, the worst that can happen is that someone hands over large sums of cash for a pile of fluff - and that's only an issue if the loss of cash or the presence of fluff upsets them later.

"Well what the fuck does that mean?" She's fantastic, but I think I'm going home alone. The problem, of course, is mutual jealousy. I am jealous of alternative therapists because they're privately employed by people with money to spare, which is obviously pretty yuck, except it means they can afford to spend absolutely ages talking to the patient, and find out exactly where they're at and what they want. Bliss.

They, conversely, are jealous of us because most people take us seriously, and because they seem to think, like everyone else, that we all drive Rolls-Royces between our gentlemen's club and the on-call bedroom (with its manky NHS blankets and polyester sheets that spark in the dark) - and because we don't believe a word they say.

But most of all, alternative therapists freak me out because half the time they do all the things they claim to hate most about doctors. Like getting all didactic and saying they know exactly what's wrong with someone and exactly what will make them better - when they clearly don't.

I revel in telling people that I don't know exactly what's wrong with them or whether or not a treatment will work, because I think it's good that people come to terms with the basic realities of science and probability and the fact that medicine is an inexact science where we tinker with relative risks. Particularly when they claim they want to get involved in the decision-making process, or to have things explained as they really are.

There are exceptions to this. Sometimes patients will as good as say they want you to lie to them, and be certain and definite, and sometimes that's a fair enough part of the therapeutic relationship. Because, the thing is, often mainstream medicine is only really good for big problems, such as broken legs, heart attacks or cancer. For most of the small stuff, the stuff that is maybe mood congruent, or has a strong psychological component, we'd be lying if we said we could cure it. But they're still miserable, and maybe gently massaging in a placebo never did any harm.

That's what I really think. Is that so bad? Well, I'm still single.