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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.

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 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.

Discussing Med Ed on the Medical Mnemonist

12.27.21 // Medicine

I did an interview with Chase DiMarco on the Medical Mnemonist that just dropped over the holiday. You can check it on the Prospective Doctor site linked above or wherever you usually enjoy fine podcasts.

It’s sorta crazy to think about how much things have both changed and stayed the same in medical education since I began writing here in 2009.

Bedside Business (Podcast)

10.02.21 // Medicine

I did a Q&A about student loans and the transition to residency (as well as a dash of passion is overrated and medical education is toxic) with the fine students across the DFW Metroplex at TCOM this spring, and it’s now available as an episode of the Bedside Business Podcast (Apple | Spotify | Google | Stitcher).

The Zoom recording audio is a smidge choppy at times but not enough to hurt as long as you slow down to 1.5x to account for my speed!

Driving at Stable

09.23.21 // Medicine, Miscellany

A classic Jeff Bezos quotation:

I very frequently get the question: “What’s going to change in the next 10 years?” That’s a very interesting question.

I almost never get the question: “What’s not going to change in the next 10 years?” And I submit to you that that second question is actually the more important of the two.

You can build a business strategy around the things that are stable in time. In our retail business, we know that customers want low prices, and I know that’s going to be true 10 years from now. They want fast delivery; they want vast selection. It’s impossible to imagine a future 10 years from now where a customer comes up and says, “Jeff I love Amazon, I just wish the prices were a little higher.” Or, “I love Amazon, I just wish you’d deliver a little slower.” Impossible.

So we know the energy we put into these things today will still be paying off dividends for our customers 10 years from now. When you have something that you know is true, even over the long term, you can afford to put a lot of energy into it.”

I recently attended a “leadership” seminar about (radiology) healthcare ecosystems and change. As with all virtual events since early 2020, discussion of the Covid-19 pandemic played an outsized role, and the nature of complexity and change were much pontificated about.

But no one over the course of two days—no one—mentioned the stability of the core mission. The strategic analyses—such as explicit or implicit utilization of SWOT—were happy to focus on anticipation and interception of perceived changes and threats, but no one spared a breath for what they thought wouldn’t change. We talked about trends in corporatization and productivity metrics, group consolidation, encroachment by midlevels and other specialties, downward reimbursement pressure, the push for 24/7 subspecialty staff coverage, lifestyle and burnout, and AI and data science.

To be sure, these and all other big changes are important, but you also can’t lose sight of the underlying purpose of the business in all the pivoting.

What can we say about medicine that is not going to change in 10 years? What is our stability north star?

(Yes this is a rhetorical question cop-out.)

 

The Availability Heuristic in Practice

08.16.21 // Medicine

We all use mental models (heuristics, rules of thumb) across a host of simple and complex problems. They often work; they sometimes don’t. You shouldn’t (and can’t) avoid having and using them, but you should be aware of them (and their limitations).

“The Influence of the Availability Heuristic on Physicians in the Emergency Department” is a cute little paper demonstrating recency bias in real-life practice:

Heuristics, or rules of thumb, are hypothesized to influence the care physicians deliver. One such heuristic is the availability heuristic, under which assessments of an event’s likelihood are affected by how easily the event comes to mind. We examined whether the availability heuristic influences physician testing in a common, high-risk clinical scenario: assessing patients with shortness of breath for the risk of pulmonary embolism.

…

The sample included 7,370 emergency physicians who had 416,720 patient visits for shortness of breath. The mean rate of pulmonary embolism testing was 9.0%. For physicians who had a recent patient visit with a pulmonary embolism diagnosis, their rate of pulmonary embolism testing for subsequent patients increased by 1.4 percentage points (95% confidence interval 0.42 to 2.34) in the 10 days after, which is approximately 15% relative to the mean rate of pulmonary embolism testing. We failed to find statistically significant changes in rates of pulmonary embolism testing in the subsequent 50 days following these first 10 days.

Of course, one of the biggest components of the availability heuristic in real life isn’t just how recent the event is (though that’s what’s measurable in this sort of dataset). It’s anything that makes certain events easier to recall. This is, for example, why some of our mistakes or surprise diagnoses can have an outside impact on our practice. We remember that unexpected PE we didn’t see coming more than the many more common examples of the negative CTA.

(Further reading on availability bias: Farnam Street.)

The Jargon of the Business Dark Arts

08.09.21 // Medicine

From Brian Alexander’s The Hospital: Life, Death, and Dollars in a Small American Town:

(Phil Ennen, one of the main characters, is the CEO of a struggling small-town community hospital in Bryan, Ohio.)

That was the world where Ennen and the vice presidents now found themselves as they listened to consultants they were auditioning to help create a strategic plan. “Transformational changes dictate that leaders within the physician enterprise focus on enterprise sustainability.” So they drove. They drove at “solutions.” The consultants offered entire suites of solutions. The solutions could be “leveraged” toward “accelerating the journey to risk capability.” There’d be “applied analytics” in “the Achieve solution set,” which was “purposely designed to assist physician enterprise leaders to align compensation models and strategic priorities, maximize productivity.” “The Achieve solution set not only drives current performance improvement but also establishes the forward-looking strategic, financial and operational structures to provide for the future risk capable physician enterprise.” Change was driven. Results were driven. Everything was “forward-looking” and “dynamic.” Zoom!

…

It wasn’t just about style. Ennen thought the world—and especially the world of medical care—was complicated enough without further obscuring meaning and understanding by spouting terms of the business dark arts. Such terms were deliberate obfuscations, thrown up as fortress walls to keep the uninitiated outside and throwing cash over the walls to the mysterious magicians inside so they’d shout down their wisdom. Now, though, like it or not (and he didn’t), Ennen and the others were knocking on the gates of the consultants.

What a great line by Alexander: “Such terms were deliberate obfuscations, thrown up as fortress walls to keep the uninitiated outside and throwing cash over the walls to the mysterious magicians inside so they’d shout down their wisdom.”

The book came out in March of this year and is a meticulous deep dive and narrative take of modern American healthcare through the lens of small-town America as a community hospital struggles to stay independent and survive.

Equity, Organized Medicine, and the Radiology Value Chain

07.26.21 // Medicine, Radiology

It’s often said that large organizations are difficult to steer and slow to change course, but that’s only part of why they sometimes act in seemingly inexplicable ways. There’s another more insidious reason, and that is conflicts of interest, not just within leadership but also in the changing demographics of the membership.

A passage from “Value Chain: Where Radiologists Should Put Their Focus in Threats Against Income” by Seth Hardy MD MBA in Applied Radiology:

So, while private/public equity firms can use leverage to amplify profits to the upside, leverage has an opposite effect when gross income is in decline. Any cuts to reimbursement would be truly devastating to these firms’ employees; since the debt holders get paid before the radiologists, the impact on employed radiologists’ salaries may be significant. As equity-employed radiologists make up a greater share of dues-paying members within organized medical societies, it is easy to understand why the proposed CMS cuts were characterized as draconian by those societies. But a clear understanding of value chain by physicians is increasingly critical to evaluate the rhetoric of our medical society leadership.

I am now a partner in a physician-owned independent radiology practice. A CMS paycut would mean that we earn commensurately less money—not that we will become insolvent.

That should count for something when choosing where to work.

Munger on Incorrect Approaches to Medicine

07.15.21 // Medicine

In 2003, Charlie Munger gave a lecture titled ‘Academic Economics: Strengths and Weaknesses, after Considering Interdisciplinary Needs,’ at the University of California at Santa Barbara.

It’s a pretty good read.

He mostly discusses problems with economics as a soft science that desperately wants to be a hard science.

Medicine is also surprisingly soft. I’ve replaced some words with medicine in several paragraphs to illustrate how cross-domain the problems with medical practice can be:

The Man with a Hammer Syndrome

Yet medicine, like much else in academia, is too insular.

The nature of this failure is that it creates what I always call, “man with a hammer syndrome.” And that’s taken from the folk saying: To the man with only a hammer, every problem looks pretty much like a nail. And that works marvelously to gum up all professions, and all departments of academia, and indeed most practical life. The only antidote for being an absolute klutz due to the presence of a man with a hammer syndrome is to have a full kit of tools. You don’t have just a hammer. You’ve got all the tools. And you’ve got to have one more trick.

This is an argument for a broad foundation in medicine before specialization. The more siloed we are, the less we can draw on different toolsets to help patients.

This is also an argument against fee-for-service. If doctors and hospitals can generate the most money with a certain hammer, that hammer is likely to be used disproportionately.

Overweighing what can be counted

A special version of this “man with a hammer syndrome” is terrible, not only in economics but practically everywhere else, including medicine. It’s really terrible in medicine. You’ve got a complex system and it spews out a lot of wonderful numbers that enable you to measure some factors. But there are other factors that are terribly important, [yet] there’s no precise numbering you can put to these factors. You know they’re important, but you don’t have the numbers. Well practically everybody (1) overweighs the stuff that can be numbered, because it yields to the statistical techniques they’re taught in academia, and (2) doesn’t mix in the hard-to-measure stuff that may be more important. That is a mistake I’ve tried all my life to avoid, and I have no regrets for having done that.

This gives rise to the classic Goodhart’s Law: when a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure.

We shouldn’t confuse measurability with importance. In many cases, the measure is a poor surrogate for what we really care about or can be gameable to ultimately negative downstream effects. An example? Patient satisfaction.

The first-order short-term focus

Too little attention in medicine to second-order and even higher-order effects. This defect is quite understandable, because the consequences have consequences, and the consequences of the consequences have consequences, and so on. It gets very complicated. When I was a meteorologist I found this stuff very irritating. And medicine makes meteorology look like a tea party.

…

Extreme economic ignorance was displayed when various experts, including Ph D. economists, forecast the cost of the original Medicare law. They did simple extrapolations of past costs. Well the cost forecast was off by a factor of more than 1000%. The cost they projected was less than 10% of the cost that happened. Once they put in place all these new incentives, the behavior changed in response to the incentives, and the numbers became quite different from their projection. And medicine invented new and expensive remedies, as it was sure to do. How could a great group of experts make such a silly forecast? Answer: They over simplified to get easy figures, like the rube rounding Pi to 3.2! They chose not to consider effects of effects on effects, and so on.

Short-term thinking is bad at both micro and macro levels.

On the micro level, the patient’s care doesn’t end when they leave the clinic or hospital. It keeps going throughout their life. And each episode of care from each different provider doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It interfaces with every other bit of care they get. The combination of direct patient care, socioeconomic factors, and education is a complicated mess at baseline.

But decisions lead to decisions, and outcomes further affect outcomes. We treat at the n of 1 and often at the timepoint of right this second. Missing the forest for the trees is easy to do when your patient is usually coming to you for a tree and you are also paid to look at the tree.

On the macro level, Munger’s Medicare example above. Or, the more recent news, approving a multibillion-dollar a-year Alzheimer’s drug with no evidence that it works: It won’t just cost billions of upfront, it will result in other companies diverting resources in a rush for me-too drugs that also may not work to get a slice of a massive market and likely cost still billions more while potentially resulting in less novel drug development. We think in linear terms but systems often work exponentially.

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