The story of Dr Roy, the Indian physician whose unorthodox liver treatments have earned him millions of social media followers and sparked a furious debate, has now caught the attention of British medical regulators. The General Medical Council has called for an urgent ethical review, raising questions that go far beyond one man’s practice.
On the surface, Dr Roy’s methods seem simple enough. He offers a strict regimen of herbal supplements, dietary changes and what he calls “liver cleansing”. His patients, many of whom have been failed by conventional medicine, swear by his results. They post videos of regained energy, reversed diagnoses and emotional gratitude. His clinic in Mumbai sees queues snaking down the street.
But the British medical establishment is not convinced. The GMC’s intervention follows a series of complaints from UK-based doctors and patients who have tried Dr Roy’s treatment remotely. Several report side effects: liver enzyme spikes, dangerous interactions with prescription drugs, and in at least two cases, hospitalisation. The regulator now wants to know whether Dr Roy’s claims are based on evidence, and whether he is exploiting vulnerable people.
For critics, this is a classic case of modern quackery. Dr Roy has no published trials in peer-reviewed journals. His website lists testimonials but no data. The British Liver Trust has warned that “unproven treatments can cause serious harm”. They point to the lack of standardised dosing, the absence of safety monitoring, and the financial cost to patients who often pay out of pocket.
Yet it would be wrong to dismiss all his supporters as naive. Many have been told by their own doctors that nothing more can be done. They face long waiting lists, limited options and a sense of abandonment by the system. When a charismatic doctor offers hope, and when other patients share miraculous recoveries, it is easy to see the appeal.
The debate also exposes a deeper tension in global healthcare. Dr Roy is based in India, where regulation is weaker and where millions cannot afford hospital care. He operates in a grey area between traditional medicine, alternative therapy and modern commerce. Social media has allowed him to bypass traditional gatekeepers, reaching patients in the UK, the US and beyond.
The GMC’s call for an ethical review is unprecedented in its scope. It could lead to restrictions on UK patients travelling for treatment, or on remote consultations. But enforcement will be difficult. The internet does not respect borders, and desperate patients will always find a way.
What is clear is that Dr Roy is a symptom of a bigger problem. When healthcare systems fail, people seek alternatives. When hope is in short supply, someone will sell it. The question is not just whether Dr Roy is a charlatan, but why so many feel they have no choice but to trust him.
The review will take months. Meanwhile, the waiting rooms of Mumbai remain full, and the arguments rage online. The only certainty is that this story will not end with a single verdict.
