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External Medicine

04.27.22 // Medicine

I was on the External Medicine podcast for a wide-ranging conversation about medical education, training, blogging, and even nanofiction. It’s a really well-edited show run by two brothers (who also happen to be starting radiology residency in a few months).

Check it out here or on your favorite podcast app.

The COVID-related PSLF boon continues

04.19.22 // Finance, Medicine

You probably know by now that the pandemic student loan payment pause was officially extended through Aug 31, 2022. Given midterm elections in November, I suspect there will be one more round of good news announced this summer and payments won’t actually start until—for example—January 1.

So that 0% rate continues to save people lots of money, and those $0 payments still count toward loan forgiveness including PSLF. There is probably no group this helps more than attending physicians.

But for anyone with rising incomes and especially more recent attendings, the additional pause extension news is likely even better than you’d think. From the recent announcement:

You won’t be required to recertify before payments restart, and the earliest you could be required to recertify is March 2023.

You may still see a recertification date that is earlier than March 2023 on your account Aid Summary. We are working to get those updated, and we thank you for your patience. If your recertification date falls between now and March 2023, it will be pushed out by one year. For example, if your account says your recertification date is Dec. 1, 2022, that date will be pushed out to Dec. 1, 2023.

For many borrowers, the next recertification deadline will be pushed even further into the future, potentially way past the point when student loan payments start again. Even if payments begin in August (or January), a lot of doctors will enjoy months if not almost a year of payments based on their last recertification from years ago, which means that a relatively recent graduate may enjoy trainee-sized payments for that much longer, and some residents may enjoy $0 payments for a while even after repayment restarts.

So a lot of folks—especially a lot of attending physicians—will get to benefit from significantly suppressed payments after the $0 period ends, likely resulting in thousands of dollars of additional eventual PSLF savings.

A slow end to a long hobby

04.12.22 // Writing

The more intrepid readers of this site may know that one of my more unusual hobbies for the past 13 years has been running an indie lit mag called Nanoism. Back when it launched in March 2009, you see, I was doing more short fiction writing than blogging or other writing (oh how times change). Some of you even submit stories from time to time, which I always enjoy.

Nanoism was and remains relatively unique because it is a venture dedicated to the admittedly absurd artform of tweet-sized fiction (I promise I don’t take it too seriously). There are many independent literary journals, and they rise and fall with the seasons. This has been a pretty long run compared to average, but it’s near time for this chapter to end.

Here is part of today’s announcement post:

Nanoism wasn’t the first “twitterzine” in the world (that would be the long-defunct speculative fiction account @thaumatrope), but it was one of the first, by far the longest continuously running, and remains the only paying venue for literary/nongenre stories of this extremely tiny size.

Over the past thirteen years, we’ve published 948 standalone tweet-sized stories, multiple longer serials, ran contests to raise money for charity, been on NPR, and had stories featured in best short fiction anthologies and books on craft. On a personal note, I got married, finished medical school, finished residency and fellowship, and had two kids. I did a lot of blogging and less and less fiction. Such is life. I’ve been an overscheduled and generally poor steward for the form and this venture, but it’s been a lovely little journey.

Now, I believe we’re reaching the end. I think that our 999th (or maybe our 1000th?) story would be a nice number to complete the collection. With our current weekly schedule, that means Nanoism will cease publishing new stories around April 2023 after 14 years of continuous operation.

So this will be my final year of reading thousands of submissions and publishing new weekly stories. If you’re a closet writer or are even just curious to try, check out the announcement post, read a few of the collection, and then try your hand.

 

Wanting Less

03.11.22 // Miscellany

Some highlights from the essay “How to Want Less” by Arthur C. Brooks in The Atlantic.

Homeostasis keeps us alive and healthy. But it also explains why drugs and alcohol work as they do, as opposed to how we wish they would…It’s why, when you achieve conventional, acquisitive success, you can never get enough. If you base your sense of self-worth on success—money, power, prestige—you will run from victory to victory, initially to keep feeling good, and then to avoid feeling awful.

My thought: Like the two factory theory of motivation and hygiene, success (especially monetarily) may help you be less dissatisfied (being impoverished is hard), but the absence of dissatisfaction is not satisfaction.

“The nature of [adaptation] condemns men to live on a hedonic treadmill,” the psychologists Philip Brickman and Donald T. Campbell wrote in 1971, “to seek new levels of stimulation merely to maintain old levels of subjective pleasure, to never achieve any kind of permanent happiness or satisfaction.”

Professional self-objectification is a tyranny every bit as nasty. You become a heartless taskmaster to yourself, seeing yourself as nothing more than Homo economicus. Love and fun are sacrificed for another day of work, in search of a positive internal answer to the question Am I successful yet? We become cardboard cutouts of real people.

We become cardboard cutouts of real people is an amazingly clear description of what the current form of meritocracy, conventional “acquisitive success,” and social media has wrought.

In truth, our formula, Satisfaction = getting what you want, leaves out one key component. To be more accurate, it should be: Satisfaction = what you have ÷ what you want

Our mental state rests in the balance between reality and expectation/desire.

It is the wanting, for which there is always more, that binds us to the Sisyphean futility of the hedonic treadmill.

And getting off is hard.

The Cost of PCP Burnout

03.06.22 // Medicine

Continuity of care is valuable.

While the paper’s methodology requires some significant guesswork, “Health Care Expenditures Attributable to Primary Care Physician Overall and Burnout-Related Turnover: A Cross-sectional Analysis” by Sinsky et al attempts to estimate the cost of primary care physician (PCP) turnover.

They combined several data sources to estimate excess expenditures and then used a large survey to estimate the proportion of PCPs leaving due to burnout (by assuming that 25% of those who claimed they intended to quit in the next few years due to burnout actually did).

Their result?

Turnover of PCPs results in approximately $979 million in excess health care expenditures for public and private payers annually, with $260 million attributable to PCP burnout-related turnover.

What a waste.

The ABR Lawsuit Continues

02.26.22 // Radiology

I thought after the last dismissal that the class-action lawsuit against the American Board of Radiology had died, but it continues.

Last week on February 16th, the “Court Of Appeals 7th Circuit” on YouTube (1.1k subscribers, in case you’re curious) streamed a brief 20-minute back-and-forth between the lawyers and the appeals court judges.

You can listen to the audio-only video on YouTube here (the ABR portion runs from 1:57 to 2:18, but that link should take you to the correct timestamp). In typical pandemic fashion, the ABR’s lawyer accidentally started off muted.

The case was heard by a panel of three judges. It is striking how short the oral arguments were: merely 20 minutes, and honestly barely enough time for the lawyers to do more than refer to the things they’ve written in the past and make mistakes.

The lawyers also seem incapable of addressing questions meaningfully. They either answer in circles or by restating points in ways that suggest that they may not actually know the answers.

I would not claim to have a meaningful understanding of the legal standing of the claim(s) against the ABR nor the ABR’s rebuttal to those claims, but you can read the most recent brief against the ABR here. Section titles under the heading “Statment of Facts” include such gems as “MOC is a Pure Money-Making Venture, for Which Monopoly Prices Are Charged, and Which Has Enriched ABR’s Coffers by More than $90 Million” and “There Is No Evidence of Any Benefit from MOC.”

If you’d like some background reading about the Sherman Antitrust Act, enjoy.

Fungibility

The initial judge seems to focus on whether MOC and other CPD (continuing professional development aka CME) products are fungible (i.e. mutually interchangeable), which of course they aren’t in the strict sense because the ABR has a monopoly in the certification market and no radiologist can choose to do anything other than be compliant with MOC or risk being unemployable.

From my reading, that’s sorta the whole point of the lawsuit.

OLA (ABR’s “online longitudinal assessment” program) may essentially be a CME product, but let’s be real here: Radiologists are not really paying the ABR for the OLA experience; they are—and have always been—paying for the credential.

“MOC” isn’t “Recertification”

There’s an interesting point where the ABR lawyer engages in historically inaccurate wordplay (at 2:08) saying that “recertification by its nature is different than MOC” because “it suggests that someone has to take a test to recertify,” whereas the ABR “chose a different path” in MOC because MOC “going forward post-2002” would require a “maintenance component, not recertification.”

This is super duper untrue because the switch to “time-limited certification” in 2002 was still very much the era when MOC actually did include a recertification test every ten years. The move to OLA didn’t take place until 2019, so the “different path” is a much much more recent fork in the road. (This is of course not to mention the simple fact that OLA functions as a test (taken in “tutor mode”) spread out over time with statistical assessment carried out after the participant answers 200 questions).

The ABR’s lawyer argues that Siva [the plaintiff] knew he had to do ongoing MOC when he got his certification as opposed to another exam-based recertification paradigm as she previously alluded to. But this is in fact also demonstrably false. Part of Siva’s initial complaint was that after passing the ABR’s 10-year recertification exam, he wasn’t given any credit toward MOC when the ABR started OLA in 2019. He did recertify. It didn’t matter how many years were left before your next test under the old (but still modern) system, you still had to do OLA (and pay the fees) on day 1.

At this point, a second judge asks the ABR lawyer point blank “what are the other MOC requirements [outside of OLA]?” and she dodges because she clearly doesn’t know. She says, “I believe that there are other components, but I don’t want to get too far outside of the allegations, your honor,” which is, essentially, I could bore you with the details but…

He basically calls her out but doesn’t make her clarify.

MOC is Whatever We Say It Is

That same judge then goes on to bizarrely toss the ABR a bone and explains he was asking about the other components in order to parse the plaintiff’s argument against the ABR precisely because he believes it would be “extremely difficult” to argue that there is separate market demand for products “akin” to OLA.

This is an amazingly off-the-mark supposition in a world where there are several commercially successful products akin to OLA including multiple radiology-specific question banks (nearly all of which also predate the ABR’s OLA offering.) He then goes on to say he thinks radiologists are basically also paying the ABR for other random CME courses, which is also untrue.

Perhaps recognizing this friendly mistake about the uniqueness of OLA, the ABR’s attorney responds (paraphrasing):

ABR: no, that’s the wrong question because demand for OLA is irrelevant; it’s demand for MOC that matters, and MOC is whatever the ABR says it is.
Judge: “You can’t evade the substance of section 1 through the label [MOC], you know that…without using the label, what is the content of what you call MOC.”
ABR: …ABR is entitled to determine the content of its certification.

Essentially, the judge is trying to figure out if there is separate demand for some of the components of MOC, which is, of course, yes. But (but!) the ABR’s response: that demand is irrelevant because—to invoke the parlance of my people—MOC ingredients are only kosher if they’ve been given a hechsher by the authority of the ABR.

In real life, these are the quick answers to the judge’s query:

  • For OLA, as we just described, there is inarguably a robust market of radiology-specific question banks, most of which provide some assessment component and some of which even also provide official CME. These are largely analogous to the ABR’s OLA offering with the key distinction that the ABR doesn’t control them and profit from them. (And I suspect it is this desire to distance MOC from CPD that prevents the ABR from offering CME credits for the work required to do OLA despite very frequent requests from diplomates).
  • The non-OLA components are merely rubber-stamping the CME and QI/QA work that doctors basically have to do anyway. I think most people would agree it would be “extremely difficult” to argue that these provide independent value.

“That Cannot Possibly Be Your Position”

In response to the ABR’s it’s-my-party-and-I’ll-cry-if-I-want-to stance, the judge is flabbergasted:

“There’s no possible way…You can’t take the position that ‘we are the ones that certify and therefore we can define the content of the certification requirement without regard to the limitations of section 1 [of the Sherman Antitrust Act].’ That cannot possibly be your position”.

The ABR lawyer says no, but she’d just said that very thing and then literally reiterates it again in almost the same words.

This was presumably met with a long blank stare during the very pregnant pause in the audio.

So, she meant yes.

And the ABR is not entirely wrong, because MOC isn’t really a CPD product. The CPD part of MOC (OLA) is merely the veneer of credibility for the program. MOC isn’t really about CME.

It’s a tithe.

Conclusion

The reality is that every single person talking in that courtroom made statements that would be comically false to any practicing physician in any specialty and any participating member board of the American Board of Medical Specialities.

It’s no surprise that legal cases take forever, cost a fortune, and are generally unsatisfying. Over two years since the initial lawsuit was filed and the system still doesn’t even know the basic nuts and bolts of what recertification “continuing” certification actually requires and means for physicians.

Measuring the Attending Job

02.10.22 // Medicine

This lesson comes from Clayton Christensen’s How Will You Measure Your Life.

Christensen references Frederick Herzberg’s “motivation-hygiene theory” of satisfaction. The argument is that there are two different types of job factors: hygiene and motivation.

Motivation factors stem from the intrinsic character of the work itself: challenge, recognition, personal responsibility, meaningful impact, involvement in decision-making, feeling valued.

Hygiene factors stem from extrinsic factors of how the work is done:

Hygiene factors are things like status, compensation, job security, work conditions, company policies, and supervisory practices. You need to get it right. But all you can aspire to is that employees will not be mad at each other and the company because of compensation.

The crux is that these categories are independent. Motivation factors drive job satisfaction, but the absence of hygiene factors causes dissatisfaction.

As in, hygiene doesn’t really make you happy, but it can definitely make you unhappy.

If you instantly improve the hygiene factors of your job, you’re not going to suddenly love it. At best, you just won’t hate it anymore. The opposite of job dissatisfaction isn’t job satisfaction, but rather an absence of job dissatisfaction.

Most discussion of the physician job market, particularly on social media, is exclusively focused on hygiene factors.

But I think this actually belies a sadder trend: many doctors now assume a low motivation environment, so hygiene seems like the only differentiating factor. Perhaps it should be no surprise that we are riding a wave of mass quitting in the workforce. In my field of radiology, a 2020 study showed that 41% of radiologists had changed jobs in the past 4 years.

The theory of motivation suggests you need to ask yourself a different set of questions than most of us are used to asking. Is this work meaningful to me? Is this job going to give me a chance to develop? Am I going to learn new things? Will I have an opportunity for recognition and achievement? Am I going to be given responsibility? These are the things that will truly motivate you. Once you get this right, the more measurable aspects of your job will fade in importance.

The Wikipedia article I linked to above breaks down the two-factor theory into four combinations:

  1. High Hygiene + High Motivation: The ideal situation where employees are highly motivated and have few complaints.

  2. High Hygiene + Low Motivation: Employees have few complaints but are not highly motivated. The job is viewed as a paycheck.

  3. Low Hygiene + High Motivation: Employees are motivated but have a lot of complaints. A situation where the job is exciting and challenging but salaries and work conditions are not up to par.

  4. Low Hygiene + Low Motivation: This is the worst situation where employees are not motivated and have many complaints.

Despite the fact that physicians are generally well-compensated compared to most other professions, I would argue that the ideal combination is rare. Most job conversation seems to fall on combinations 2-4.

See if these look familiar when rephrased:

  • High Hygiene + Low Motivation: Employed position in a relatively physician-friendly corporatized job market. Pay/work balance is good but lack of autonomy and control makes it a clock-punching endeavor.
  • Low Hygiene + High Motivation: Employed position in an understaffed or relatively resource-depleted environment. Many academic centers fall into this category, where more and more is being asked of physicians who believe in the academic mission, and the reward for being motivated and hard-working is more unpaid work and extra administrative responsibility. Thanks to budgetary gerrymandering, everyone is somehow always losing money. The institution doesn’t love you back, and this explains the revolving door in so many academic departments.
  • Low Hygiene + Low Motivation: Underpaid and underappreciated is a truly toxic combination. This is what happens, for example, in the private equity death spiral. It’s also what happens when large systems would rather replace physicians with midlevel providers when competitive physician salaries are deemed too expensive for the bottom line. A job where you’re not just a cog–a warm body capable of producing RVUs–but also one that isn’t even valued.

In real life, both of these characteristics fall on spectrums as opposed to a binary high/low. And, I suspect individuals also fall on a continuum for how much motivation is necessary to feel professionally fulfilled.

It may not be possible to find a high/high job in every market, but it is important to consider both factors in the job-hunting process.

If you’re looking to build a true career and not just find a job, then you can’t ignore motivation. The beauty of being a physician is that the job itself often carries some high-motivation characteristics merely through the act of patient care.

But low hygiene–particularly bad work conditions, culture, and supervisory practices–can make what should be a good job unredeemable. Think hard about how different hygiene factors affect your degree of dissatisfaction and avoid accordingly.

The ABR and Platinum Transparency

01.20.22 // Radiology

It’s the time of year for breaking New Year’s resolutions and paying annual fees to the ABR.

In honor of the season, from the American Board of Radiology’s blog:

“In October, we posted on our website the most recent financial statements for the ABR and the ABR Foundation. Postings include the 2020 990 forms and statements of financial standing for the year ending December 31, 2020.

Additionally, since 2017, the ABR has earned GuideStar’s Platinum status, the highest level of organizational transparency recognition.”

I can appreciate the desire to toot your own horn but perhaps less so the justification for self-congratulation.

The ABR, like all nonprofits, must furnish their Form 990 every year. The additional financial statements they recently posted online essentially contain the highlights from this mandatory filing. They are the same documents I’ve also personally obtained in the past in response to a request for greater financial transparency/information. They are overall less detailed and differ only in some minor categorical changes due to their nature as documents intended for internal review and not regulatory compliance.

Now, this is of course outside my wheelhouse—I’m not a compliance officer at a nonprofit nor a federal auditor—but essentially doing the minimum is—to me—not a cause for celebration or even the sweet semi-embrace of patting your own back. I don’t expect a high five for not stealing nor a gold star for filing my taxes on time every year. Those are the rules. And if that small effort places the ABR in rarefied company amongst nonprofits, that probably says more about the United States’ implementation of the nonprofit tax designation than it does about the ABR.

In case you were curious, the ABR said it lost $4.2 million dollars in 2020 from their…strategic reserve of $46+ million. The ABR’s functional expenses have typically ranged from $13-15 million during the recent period from 2012-2017 and up to $17.2 million in 2018. 2020? $24 million.

The two biggest expenses in 2020 according to the financial statements were $11.2 mil for “office expenses” and $9.8 mil for “personnel expenses.” Some of the financial statement numbers differ slightly from the Form 990 for reasons I wouldn’t pretend to understand, but the official document breaks down that office expense a bit further and attributes $8.7 mil of it to “occupancy” (according to the IRS that’s “rent; heat, light, power, and other utilities expenses; property insurance; real estate taxes; mortgage interest; and similar occupancy-related expenses”).

That occupancy figure is a big jump. Here’s what it’s been in recent years:

2019 $1,371,602.
2018 $932,561.
2017 $1,092,930
2016 $383,165
2015 $395,661
2014 $1,147,284

I sent the ABR a congratulatory email about their Guidestar Platinum status and asked if they could provide some more information about this portion of their functional expenses and in particular the significant jump during the pandemic. To his credit, Executive Director Wagner personally responded:

The amount in question includes costs related to our commitment to a fully remote testing model during 2020. Some of the specifics of these transactions are bound by standard non-disclosure terms with outside firms.

I know you’re thinking that $7+ million in additional occupancy expenses for a testing process that involves less, umm, occupancy is a bit counterintuitive. Unfortunately no details were forthcoming, but one potential large expense could have been a commercial lease buyout for the now-defunct large exam center in Chicago (the ABR owns its office building in Tuscon).

In related news, I had also inquired about that lease, and he was gracious enough to provide a very specific answer:

As of January 31, 2022, the ABR will have no active lease agreements, so our occupancy costs will be significantly lower moving forward.

The lease is up mere days from now. Therefore, in this new world of platinum transparency and financial stewardship, candidates and diplomates should almost certainly expect a significant decrease in fees next year.

(Right?)

The Private Equity Model in Medicine is Flawed

01.13.22 // Medicine, Radiology

It can be hard for trainees in the job market to make sense of the current state of affairs. Everyone knows private equity companies have been gobbling up practices around the country in an ever-consolidating market, but the implications of this trend are another matter entirely.

Most people willing to talk openly about private equity and radiology, for example, are those not working for private equity in radiology. The messaging from those in the industry is usually a vague hey come on over guys the water is fine. And there are several reasons for this. One big one is that many of these deals are fresh, and the partners who’ve sold their practices to private equity are still in the vesting period for their buyout and contractually obligated to continue working and not undermining the groups they’ve sold. There are nondisclosure agreements in play, and folks are not gonna be posting about how terrible a decision it was on Facebook while simultaneously recruiting to keep the practice afloat amidst an exodus of associates. Even unhappy associates are unlikely to badmouth their group publicly, certainly while employed but often even after leaving due to bad karma/small world effects.

However, discussion in private tells a different story.

One of the perks of writing online (and working for a large, democratic, independent, 100%-radiologist-owned practice) is that I get to talk to a lot of people.

And for residents, fellows, and those wondering how things are going, here’s my impression: the private equity model in medicine is fundamentally flawed.

(I should clarify before we go on that private equity is a financing model and not an operational certainty, though PE-firms do have a well-deserved reputation for corporate-bad-acting in the name of short-term profits even when doing so damages the underlying business’ long-term prospects).

((I should also mention the opposite isn’t necessarily true either: just because a practice is independent doesn’t mean that it is therefore honest, well-run, or democratic. Every potential job should be evaluated on its own merits)).

(((And lastly, plenty of other practices, including academic ones, have been using the same techniques to increase revenues at the expense of the academic and patient care missions. If growth and profit are the primary metrics for a healthcare enterprise, then high-quality care and intangibles like good teaching will invariably suffer.)))

The Pitch

The only doctors who can reliably benefit in a private equity transaction are those senior partners close to retirement who can take their money and retire. They often do this by destabilizing that group for the long term and undermining the profession.

There are good reasons some doctors might make less money in the future, such as in order to increase access and improve health equity or to spread the zero-sum Medicare pie more evenly between different specialties.

However, sacrificing autonomy and paying a large fraction of revenues to a corporate overlord is less likely to be one of the good ones.

I want to be clear that not all groups that have sold to PE have done so in an opportunistic fashion just to cash out, there are many lines the PE folks use to entice groups to sell.

For example, they may argue that they will be able to make up for their cut by negotiating higher rates under a bigger corporate umbrella with a larger market share. (While theoretically possible, this is usually not the case. Reimbursement rates are generally falling, and negotiated rates rarely go up sufficiently if at all to make that math work out. In particular, the No Surpises Act, if current challenges fail, will cause substantial downward reimbursement pressure).

They also will argue that they can leverage IT infrastructure, “AI,” and other goodies to make your practice more efficient. (But ultimately the increased efficiency is mostly related to radiologists simply reading more cases per day. That’s the kind of efficiency that corporate America is used to. Squeezing more.)

Other times they may use market dominance to aggressively compete for contracts and force groups to assimilate (i.e. the Borg method). This is especially true for second-order acquisitions in a metro after a private equity firm has already captured significant market share, allowing the firm to mop up more groups and hopefully achieve local dominance. Even in areas without a substantial PE presence, firms can sometimes use their relationships with health networks or imaging center chains to exert a lot of pressure, particularly when contracts are up for renegotiation. The general trend of healthcare consolidation has made this easier.

The Sale

So what happens in a private equity sale? Recently, that has meant that a group has sold a controlling share of itself to the private company in exchange for a monetary sum that typically vests over a period of time (e.g. five years). A significant portion of that money (e.g. 20-50%) isn’t cash but is instead “equity” (an ownership stake in the form of stock) in the parent company. That equity is always a minority stake and never results in control. The “shares” a physician holds are a different class than the “shares” the PE-owners hold, and that makes all the difference.

The partners who get the benefit are also on the hook for the vesting period. If you don’t stay, you don’t get all the money. They also have a contractual obligation to keep the group running and reproduce the financials that gave rise to the sale. And this is important because keeping the group running is not always an easy feat, especially if the partners were already pumping the rank-and-file for higher productivity in order to look better before selling.

After a sale, the PE owners eat first. The initial buyout amount is typically a multiple of a capitalized share of group revenue. The bigger the fraction sold, the larger the number (e.g. 30%) the new PE owners take from operating revenues (and therefore the less available to the doctors actually doing the work). If the partners were aggressive in maximizing the buyout windfall, the less they’ll earn going forward in salary.

The Profits

In the world of operations management, a company can increase its profits by increasing revenues and/or decreasing costs. When you take over a new business, increasing revenues may be a goal, but it’s not a guarantee and rarely something you can achieve out the gate in an otherwise reasonably functioning enterprise. Lowering costs though? Well, that’s some easy math.

The low-hanging fruit is to “streamline” operations and increase efficiency, which in radiology mostly amounts to each radiologist reading more RVUs, hopefully also for less pay. You could lose/fire some people and keep patient volumes the same, or have the same number of people do an increasing amount of work instead of hiring to handle growth. When non-partner rads quit and you can’t recruit, then you automatically earn higher profits as the same amount of work is divided among the remaining rads on staff. Congrats.

Decreased pay and increased work are the hallmarks of value extraction in the corporatization playbook (and certainly not unique to the PE-financing model).

But, ultimately, this is where the math breaks down.

This is not a silicon valley start-up where you hope to hit a home run with crazy multiples or a unicorn IPO. These are mature service businesses in a highly regulated industry. There’s simply isn’t enough operational wiggle room for a company to take a big revenue percentage off the top without changing the function or structure of the underlying business in undesirable ways. There are no exponential profits like through selling software. Doctors earn money linearly through patient care. You earn more money by doing more work. There is no free lunch.

I have yet to see or hear of an example where true efficiency gains have offset the haircut or where billing improvements have led to substantially better collections (radiology practices, in general, have not been the dominant perpetrators of unsavory practices like surprise billing). There may be examples out there, but if there are, those positive details are being kept under even better wraps than the negative ones that have managed to filter through.

No one goes into medicine because they want to practice dangerously high-volume care.

The Death Spiral

Value extraction is not the same thing as wealth creation. A good business doesn’t just take a slice of the pie, they make the pie bigger. Practices can grow organically, but it is no easy feat for a mature practice to grow at the level required to please equity investors. And investors must get their returns.

Right now there are more job postings on the ACR job board than there are graduating trainees. There is quite literally a shortage of radiologists, and many new graduates are shying away from PE practices when they can. In order to compete, PE firms have begun increasing pay and shortening “partnership” tracks in order to stay competitive, but ultimately these moves will only further erode the profits they need to make to keep the enterprise rolling and pay down their debts.

I’ve been doing some recruiting for our practice recently and in doing so talked to multiple people from all across the country who are trying to bail from private equity managed practices. The stories are different and yet all the same.

Partners who regret that sale, who often felt forced to sell due to local factors when other groups had already sold or who bought the line that they needed to get big to survive.

Groups that were promised that under the new umbrella, reimbursements would rise and that it was those higher revenues and magical unicorn fairy dust efficiency gains that would pay for the rent-seeking of their corporate overlords and leave their groups healthy for the future.

Groups that then didn’t see those promises come to fruition but did have an obligation to keep their groups afloat during the vesting period even after working conditions worsened and young radiologists left, creating a death spiral where the job gets worse and worse leading to more call and higher productivity demands and—of course—more difficulty recruiting. This perpetuates until either the group can’t fulfill their contracts and they lose the business or, as will be happening increasingly soon, the partners flee for retirement or other greener pasture independent groups for the next stage of their careers.

The Future

(/ what is a young doctor to do?)

You should do whatever you want.

But since you’re here, here’s what I would do: If you are a young grad and want to lay the foundation for a long-term career, I would suggest avoiding these practices when possible. At the minimum, you must find out about turnover, find out why people left, and ideally talk to those people for an honest assessment. These are things you should be doing for any potential job but are especially important in the recent acquisition setting.

Even terrible jobs don’t sound terrible when they’re being sold.

The model is flawed, and things are going to get worse in these practices before they get better. As of right now, there are certainly PE jobs out there that are day-to-day solid, and they might stay that way. But recent history has shown that we shouldn’t take the future for granted.

Of note, the PE funding model allows these companies to do things, at least in the short term, that lead to growth or at least a good-on-paper job. They can and do use debt (borrowed money) to grow the business: to buy more practices, invest in infrastructure, etc. Many of these well-paying desirable-seeming positions are not funded by operations but by debt, meaning that the company has borrowed money to artificially pay well for jobs that would otherwise be unaffordable based on the revenues of the business itself. This may not be sustainable.

That sort of leverage is how companies scale rapidly. Recently, we have come to the point in the cycle where debt is being used to prop up struggling service lines. Soon, we may get to the point where cash flows can’t cover existing loan obligations and more debt is needed to pay off the old debt (i.e. The Ponzi stage).

For example, desperate to hire mammographers, PE practices have been offering generous employee track positions. These are probably both temporary and unsustainable. As a young rad, you might make a lot more money in the short-term immediate future taking one of these jobs, but the deal will stay just as long as it needs to for recruitment and not a moment longer. A reimbursement change to digital breast tomosynthesis a few years from now or a slash in technical mammo reimbursement probably won’t change your salary much in a democratic group, but it likely will if you’re picking a job based on chasing the biggest number you can find.

While finishing up training, you also may have no idea what it feels like to earn that extra high salary either. If you don’t mind jumping ship in a year or two for healthier volumes or a real say in the direction of the practice, then you can take that risk. But if you’re hoping to establish roots somewhere, then some extra money upfront may not be the right call for you, especially when you consider the non-competes these practices universally utilize (the biggest existential threat to a corporate practice is its doctors quitting and reforming a new practice under their noses).

It’s not that one choice or the other is wrong; it’s that you need to have your eyes open, understand the situation, and make the right choice for yourself.

Again, there’s no free lunch. Many independent democratic groups simply can’t sweeten the pot for individual hires the way a group hiring employees can. When you own your practice, the company’s profits are your profits. When you’re an employee, your pay is the biggest cost for the company, and physician salaries are the biggest expense for any corporate-style practice (academics included). The goal is to pay you the least amount possible that the job market will tolerate. Right now, the job market is hot and pay is pretty good. But markets change.

In addition to the obvious operational problems of the death spiral, buying growth hasn’t been cheap.

For example, the credit agency Moody’s recently said that the country’s largest radiology practice, Radiology Partners, has a debt load of around $3.2 billion due between 2024-2028: “The practice’s liabilities over the summer remained at roughly 8 times its earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization.”

That’s a lot of leverage and a significant “execution risk” as Moody’s points out. It may not be possible for a company like RP to service this debt on earnings alone, and it may well need to raise more money to pay off its previous funding.

You see where this is going.

These companies will need more money than ever at the same time that their underlying businesses may become more unstable than ever. The big reason some lucrative specialties are in this situation is that it’s been so easy to raise capital and so easy to take on debt, two things that may not last forever. If the credit markets tighten, it may not be possible for companies to borrow said money when they need it. If earnings are flat or falling thanks to regulatory and reimbursement changes, no one may be interested in pouring good money after the bad.

The fact: no one knows what’s going to happen in the next decade.

While the easiest profit for a PE firm is to replace higher partner salaries with lower associate ones, that still requires that you are able to find enough people willing to work for lower salaries. Instead, with the current job market, they’ve often been forced to offer higher salaries. Higher salaries mean fewer profits unless the job really sucks. 

What you’re left with is a job that might have the right numbers on paper but at great risk for a lot of empty promises on the ground.

Ultimately, these are trends, not destinies. Not every PE-backed group is bad to work for and certainly not every independent group is good. And I definitely can’t fault any young rads for taking temporarily good jobs that might not work out long-term when their older colleagues are the ones that helped create this mess in the first place.

What I can say is that—philosophically—I don’t think accountability to non-physician third-parties can lead to sustainable high-quality patient care, and the majority of young radiologists agree. If you feel compelled to take a job due to local factors, then so be it: just know what you’re getting into, and be prepared for the job to change—potentially substantially—over the next few years.

Healthcare is very complicated, and it’s no longer as isolated an industry from general economic trends and market forces as it used to be. The storms are harder to predict and more challenging to weather. Every middle man is an extra layer of complexity, and that complexity should add commensurate value to be justified. I have yet to see a convincing argument that this is the case.

The Takeaway

All of this is not to say that as an individual you can’t have a good experience working for a particular group regardless of their financing or operational structure (even if the underlying business model is flawed).

And, there can be real perks to being an employee or contractor.

This is likewise not to say that you can’t be taken advantage of and treated poorly by an independent group. This absolutely does happen, and I want to be clear that physician ownership is unfortunately not synonymous with healthy group culture.

This is merely to say that the need to provide profits to a third party for whom profit is their modus operandi introduces unavoidable friction to running a healthcare business that appropriately balances high-quality patient care, physician reimbursement, and a sustainable work model.

And the next few years should be interesting.

Atomic Habits

01.04.22 // Reading

Atomic Habits was apparently the very best-selling book of 2021.

I don’t re-read books often, but James Clear’s entry is short and tactical, and it makes for a nice “get your head in the game” reset prior to a new effort (such as new year’s resolutions if that’s something you typically enjoy planning and then not doing).

Clear isn’t a scientist, but he did a nice job summarizing the work of others, particularly Charles Duhigg’s The Power of Habit and BJ Fogg’s Tiny Habits (though the latter’s popular book came later). It’s an example, like Yuval Harari’s wildly popular Sapiens, that synthesis, packaging, and storytelling are all considered valuable and certainly rewarded by the market (much more so than rigor).

Clear had a pretty solid newsletter for many years prior to the book, so he put in the time to generate some great quotes.

My two favorites:

You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.

Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become.

I love the idea of identity-based habits. People love goals and are obsessed with outcomes. But not hitting your goals isn’t always a failure, and outcomes are often not within your locus of control. The inversion here we are affirming is of course the classic, “it’s the journey, not the destination.”

Habits are an effort to be the kind of person we want to be—internal validation—and not focused on outcomes that might happen as a result—external validation. That identity is more who we are and less exactly what we do.

From a post about residency interviews last year:

So much of your identity feels tied to your success in school, the match, and your developing career as a physician. But internal validation is always superior to external validation. You don’t and can’t control outcomes. You–at best–control yourself and your approach.

Perhaps we would do better to think of ourselves foremost as listeners or healers and less as a specific role like trauma surgeon or dermatologist.

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