Health Care Organizational Ethics

Health Care Organizational Ethics quoted in the New York Times

2013-04-28T09:30:00.000-04:00

I'm a regular reader ot "The Ethicist" column in the Sunday New York Times. This morning's column started with a rather sordid situation:
My ex-wife is a physician. We divorced when I found out she was having an affair with one of her H.I.V.-positive patients. I feel compelled to tell the state medical licensing board and the professional societies to which she belongs about her affair. My reasons for doing so are that I feel an intense urge to retaliate her breach of trust and that she potentially exposed me to H.I.V. (fortunately, I tested negative). I also know that, as a physician myself, I should report her to protect other patients, so that she may get increased supervision at her workplace and treatment if needed. Should I report her even though my main motivation is revenge? NAME WITHHELD
After dispensing with revenge as a motive ("There’s no moral argument for ruining someone’s life just because she ruined yours"), Chuck Klosterman, the columnist, goes on to discuss doctor-patient sex. I was surprised to find a quote from "Doctor-Patient Sex: Why is it Unethical?", a 2009 post on this blog:

There is, however, a problem here. The fact that your ex-wife had an affair with someone who is H.I.V. positive is not a professional issue (and a physician would be well positioned to conduct such a relationship, as she would fully understand the risks). But the fact that the man was her patient is reason for concern. Personally, I can easily imagine situations in which a doctor could have romantic interactions with a patient and everything would be fine — but those hypothetical possibilities don’t make the practice acceptable. R.M. Cullen, a doctor in Auckland, New Zealand, has written at length about the import of a “zero-tolerance” policy when it comes to doctor-patient sexual relations. Here is the core argument, as interpreted by Jim Sabin, director of the Pilgrim Health Care Ethics Program at Harvard University: “Cullen argues — in my view correctly — that it is not necessary to prove that every instance of doctor-patient sex will be harmful . . . to establish that doctor-patient sexual relationships are unethical. The medical profession can, and should, adopt a zero-tolerance ethical stance based on a) the potential for harm to the patient with b) no offsetting potential benefits for the patient, combined with c) the inevitable harm to trust in the medical profession itself.” In other words, the potential downside is massive, the potential upside has nothing to do with medicine and the social take-away makes every other doctor look sketchy.

So does this mean you should report your ex-wife? If you agree with Cullen’s argument, you should. If you simply want to hurt her, your position is weak and immoral, but the action of reporting her itself remains defensible.

In the past five years I've written 20 posts on doctor-patient sex. These posts have had more than 25,000 page views - not much by internet standards but a lot for a blog with a wonky title and a somewhat esoteric focus. The 20 posts have received 128 comments. I have the impression that folks get to the posts via Google searches when they're concerned with the topic. I assume that was the case with Chuck Klosterman.

Public Learning about ACOs

2013-04-24T08:45:00.000-04:00

"Culture beats strategy every time" is a truism in management consultation. The Accountable Care Organization concept is excellent strategy, but it won't get anywhere if our health system culture doesn't support it.

This morning I was happy to see a front page article in the New York Times about how Advocate Health Care is developing its ACO. The article is clear and informative. But the amateur medical anthropologist in me was struck by what the language reveals about the cultural context within which ACOs will thrive or crash and burn. In what follows, snippets from the article are in italics, followed by my editorial comments. I've highlighted key phrases - all of the emphases are mine:

On a stormy evening this spring, nurses at Dr. Gary Stuck’s family practice were on the phone with patients with heart ailments, asking them not to shovel snow. The idea was to keep them out of the hospital, and that effort — combined with dozens more like it — is starting to make a difference: across the city, doctors are providing less, but not worse, health care.

In recent years I've been careful to shovel snow slowly and not to overload the shovel. If I was one of Dr. Stuck's patients I would have appreciated a call from the nurse. But note the assumption that less care is likely to be worse. As a physician who practiced for 43 years my default view is that less is better/more is worse. Many of my colleagues think the same way. ACOs won't succeed unless we can nudge the wider public into understanding that "more" does not equal "better" and "less" is often an improvement!

For most health care providers, that would be cause for alarm. But not for Advocate Health Care, based in Oak Brook, Ill., a pioneer in an approach known as “accountable care” that offers financial incentives for doctors and hospitals to cut costs rather than funnel patients through an ever-greater volume of costly medical services. Under the agreement, hospital admissions are down 6 percent. Days spent in the hospital are down nearly 9 percent. The average length of a stay has declined, and many other measures show doctors providing less care, too.

Insofar as the kind of integrated care ACOs are designed to promote is the right way to deliver care, the changed payment structure is removing a barrier to doing the right thing, not "incentivizing" us like rats in a maze. I don't think I'm alone in finding all the talk about "incentivizing physicians" to collaborate with their patients and colleagues offputting. And if I were a naive patient I'd be suspicious of care that my doctor had to be "incentivized" to provide!

“It’s hard to imagine that you could start from scratch and do this and be successful in three years," said Dr. Lee Sacks, Advocate’s chief medical officer, noting that other systems may find it far harder to flip the traditional fee-for-services system on its head. “We had a running head-start going back to 1995.”

The organizations that joined in 1995 to create Advocate have a 100 year history of faith-based health care. As a non-Christian I found the Advocate mission inspiring. I would be proud to practice with colleagues who shared the values Advocate promulgates. I wish the article had taken the following great quote from Dr. Sacks that I found on the Advocate website:

"There is just a special feeling throughout Advocate Health Care. We regularly recognize those who exemplify our values of compassion, equality, excellence, partnership and stewardship, even though many of them would say that they were just doing their job.”

A piece of cheese at the end of a maze isn't what "incentivizes" health professionals - it's the privilege of being part of a caring profession whose values go back for millennia! The admirable clinicians Dr. Sacks is talking about would be stunned to be told that their comportment reflected economic incentives, not personal mission!

In some ways, accountable care resembles earlier efforts to control medical spending, including the health maintenance organizations that proliferated in the 1980s but fell out of favor, in part because they severely limited patients’ choices. But accountable care differs by giving doctors and hospitals a direct financial stake in saving money and a reason to invest in various programs of preventive care rather than relying exclusively on the fees they would normally earn from providing services.

This snippet tip toes towards getting the culture issue right, but it still misses the crucial point. Capitated payments facilitate investment in programs (and not just for prevention) that are not paid for in our cockeyed fee-for-service/widget-rewarding payment system. But that's not what gives doctors a "reason" to invest. The reason is that it's the right thing to do in light of a mission that even many athiest clinicians regard as "sacred."

So far, Advocate has achieved a small but significant savings of about 2 percent below projected costs, Blue Cross Blue Shield said, but it is not clear whether it can continue to make progress. Already, some Advocate hospital chiefs have expressed fears over losing revenue and warned about the threat to their financial performance. Doctors fret that their incomes may suffer. “We’re doing it because it’s the right thing to do for patients,” said Dr. Stuck, the Advocate family physician. “We’re not making more money.”

Dr. Stuck's point about doing the right thing speaks for itself!

“You’re trying to overlay a payment design onto a benefit model that allows a patient to go anywhere he wants,” said Steve Hamman of Blue Cross Blue Shield, noting that patients can undermine the advantages of the new approach if they ignore the advice or insist on unnecessary tests and procedures. “We can talk all we want about provider accountability and how important that is. But there is a measure of patient accountability that is critical as well.”

For readers who aren't familiar with the ins and outs of the ACO concept, this paragraph is referring to the fact that Medicare beneficiaries who are receiving their care from an ACO aren't "locked in" to the ACO network. If Dr. Stuck's patients want to go to the Mayo Clinic they can do so. This is likely to create clinical, economic and ethical challenges for ACOs. What if the Mayo Clinic does knee replacements better than the ACO? Do we have to refer patients "out"? What are the acceptable ways for ACOs to try to keep patients "in network"? And, most important, how do we engage patients and the public in seeing stewardship of shared resources as a societal imperative they share responsibility for?

We Yanks believe in magic bullets. That's why we have so many drugs in our medicine cabinets and drones in the sky. ACOs, alas, will not magically solve our health "system's" problems of quality and cost. The ACO is a good concept, but it won't thrive without a supportive culture. The otherwise excellent article in the New York Times shows how far we have to go to develop the culture we need!

(See here, here, and here for posts that discuss related aspects of the ACO concept.)

Should You Kill Your Disabled Child?

2013-04-21T14:45:00.000-04:00

I've just read a remarkable book about this question: Rescuing Jeffrey, by his father, Richard Galli. I got to the book via "Calling It Quits: When Patients or Proxies Request to Withdraw or Withhold Life-Sustaining Treatment After Spinal Cord Injury," an article assigned to Harvard Medical School students for this week's class on end of life care in the required course on "Medical Ethics and Professionalism."

On July 4, 1998, Jeffrey Galli, 17 at the time, dove into the shallow end of a swimming pool and fractured his neck, injuring his spinal cord in a way that left him quadriplegic and unable to breathe without ventilator support. Richard saved his life by pulling him out of the pool and breathing through his nose. But when Jeffrey got to the Hasbro Children's Hospital in Providence, Rhode Island, and the extent of his injury became clear, Richard and his wife Toby considered whether the right thing to do would be to withdraw treatment and let Jeffrey die.

Galli renders the anguished flow of his thoughts and feelings in admirably spare prose. Not surprisingly for a 17 year old, Jeffrey had given no guidance about he would want to have done in a situation like the calamity he experienced. In his initial state of unconsciousness, and the next few days of impaired awareness, his parents had to make decisions for him. Galli initially felt that Jeffrey - a very physical boy who was not drawn to reading or other forms of "living in his mind" - would not be able to tolerate the helplessness and immobility of quadriplegia. But he recognized that he wasn't a reliable decision-maker. Perhaps he was the one who couldn't tolerate Jeffrey's condition. Galli conveys the way thinking about Jeffrey mixed with projection onto Jeffrey brilliantly. At one point he imagines pulling the plug on Jeffrey and then committing suicide himself!

When Jeffrey started to regain consciousness and began to fathom what had happened, his first reaction was "I want to die." But over the course of the ten days Galli's narrative describes Jeffrey first oscillates between wanting to die and wanting to live, gradually settling on the will to survive.

Galli provides a service to clear thinking by using harsh words to bring out harsh facts. For him the question isn't whether to "withdraw medical treatment from Jeffrey" but whether to "kill Jeffrey." In part, making that choice would have been an act of love - sparing his son from the suffering that he expected would be Jeffrey's fate. But in part the choice would have reflected his own suffering at the loss of a son with mobility. For that reason. "killing" wfelt to him like the right word.

The crucial help Galli received was from a physician whose name he does not give and who was not part of Jeffrey's ongoing treatment. The physician conveyed that the life vs. death decision didn't have to be made now. If Jeffrey decided in the future that life in a wheelchair with no use of arms or legs and no ability to breath on his own was not worth living, he could have the ventilator withdrawn. Galli concluded that letting the treatment proceed was not committing his son to a life of unwanted suffering.

The book is painful to read, but once I picked it up I couldn't put it down.

(Jeffrey completed high school and then college. For an article about him at the University of Rhode Island, see here. For a video of Jeffrey and his younger sister Sarah in 2012, 14 years after the accident, see here. And for a post I wrote about an adult patient with quadriplegia who elected to have his ventilator turned off, see here.)

Keep Sound Minds

2013-04-13T10:00:00.000-04:00

In 2008 I blogged about how after Marci Thibault, in a state of psychosis, walked into New Hampshire traffic with her twin sister Danielle's two young children, killing them all, Danielle and her husband Ken formed a not-for-profit devoted to "prevent[ing] similar incidents from occurring by improving society's understanding and management of mental health issues."

Keep Sound Minds, the organization Danielle and Ken founded, is hosting an event in Woburn, Massachusetts, on Saturday evening May 18. I have the privilege of being one of the speakers, along with Ken and Danielle. The event is co-sponsored by the Wellstone-Barlow Mental Health Initiative. David Wellstone is son of the late Senator Paul Wellstone, who crusaded for mental health causes. Ken Barlow is a popular TV meteorologist in Minnesota who recently "came out" about having bipolar illness. (See here for a great interview with him.) Their organization is devoted to de-stigmatizing mental illness. David Wellstone and Ken Barlow will also speak.

I encourage readers to go to the Keep Sound Minds website and to watch the interview with Ken Barlow. And, if you're in the area, come to the event on May 18th and tell folks you know who have a special interest in mental health matters about it.

The Bias Towards Drugs in Psychiatry

2013-04-04T17:00:00.000-04:00

Two days ago I posted about the bias towards drugs in treating depressed older patients. The next day the New York Times published a heartbreaking op ed on the same theme by Ted Gup, whose son died of a drug overdose 18 months ago.

Gup reflects with pain on his decision to allow his son to be put on stimulants for what was diagnosed as ADHD. In retrospect, he feels he contributed to his son's ultimate death:

In another age, David might have been called "rambunctious." His battery was a little to large for his body. And so he would leap over the couch, spring to reach the ceiling and show an exuberance for life that came in brilliant microbursts...

No one made him take the heroin and alcohol, and yet I cannot help but hold myself and others to account. I had unknowingly colluded with a system that devalues talking therapy and rushes to medicate, inadvertently sending a message that self-medication, too, is perfectly acceptable.

I had the good luck to have been allowed to outgrow my rambunctiousness. I remember my elementary school report card identifying "self control" as a "special need." I remember as well not understanding why it bothered my parents that when I spoke with them I went through the motions of a baseball pitcher. "Ants in your pants" was the "diagnosis" they gave me. After some years, the ants disappeared. The key interventions came from wise parents, teachers, and sports coaches.

Gup sees how the culture that contributed to the death of his son affects us at every stage of life:

I fear that being human is itself fast becoming a condition. It’s as if we are trying to contain grief, and the absolute pain of a loss like mine. We have become increasingly disassociated and estranged from the patterns of life and death, uncomfortable with the messiness of our own humanity, aging and, ultimately, mortality...Instead of enhancing our coping skills, we undermine them and seek shortcuts where there are none, eroding the resilience upon which each of us, at some point in our lives, must rely.

The young move too fast for our comfort and we give them drugs to slow them down. The elderly move too slowly for our comfort and we give them drugs to speed them up.

The Bias Towards Drugs in Treating Depressed Older Patients

2013-04-02T08:30:00.000-04:00

I recently read an article on "How to adapt cognitive-behavioral therapy for older adults" that came to me in Current Psychiatry, a "throw-away" journal (one that comes to professionals free of charge and without subscription, typically containing non-peer-reviewed articles and often replete with advertising). The article itself was excellent, but the opening paragraph was revealing in terms of the problematic way psychiatric treatment is typically framed nowadays:

Some older patients with depression, anxiety, or insomnia may be reluctant to turn to pharmacotherapy and may prefer psychotherapeutic techniques. Evidence has established cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) as an effective intervention for several psychiatric disorders and CBT should be considered when treating geriatric patients. (emphasis added by me)

Perhaps as the spouse of a college English teacher I'm overly fussy about language, but to my eye this paragraph gives drugs the position of privilege in treating elderly patients with the common symptoms of depression, anxiety, or insomnia, and relegates psychological interventions like CBT to "be considered" if drugs are rejected. Readers wouldn't guess that the National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence (NICE) guideline on treating depression in adults recommends various applications of CBT as the first intervention for subthreshold depressive symptoms or mild to moderate depression. Drugs only come in later (except for more severe depression)!

Outcome studies suggest that CBT is at least as effective as medication for mild to moderate depression. Given that medication side effects can be especially problematic in an elderly population, why the bias against psychosocial interventions? I see four main reasons:

From non-stop pharmaceutical marketing to physicians and the public, we associate drugs with images of butterflies, sunshine, smiling faces, and other seductive visions. The multi-billion dollar marketing campaign synergizes with our wish for quick and easy fixes to our problems.
Ageism, as reflected in aphorisms like "you can't teach an old dog new tricks," promotes the belief that elderly folks are too set in their ways to change by psychological means. Empirical studies show this isn't true.
Non-mental health clinicians may worry that they aren't adequately skilled at providing CBT or other psychosocial interventions like my primary care colleague years ago who said, in unintended verse: "I know what to do when they're dying/But not what to do when they're crying."
For harried primary care physicians (the likeliest group to see elderly patients with mild depression) writing a prescription takes much less time than initiating a psychosocial intervention.

Lack of skill and the crunch of time are serious impediments. But they're not insoluble. CBT has been adapted to self-guided formats. Non-mental health clinicians and aides have been trained in basic CBT approaches. And CBT has been delivered by telephonic means.

The degree to which we favor drugs over psychosocial treatments ultimately reflects a form of bias. That's why I discuss it in a blog about ethics!

(For an example of how our national tilt towards mechanistic thinking about human process affects another age group, see yesterday's New York Times article reporting that 11% of school aged children have been given a diagnosis of ADHD. Stimulants represent a nine billion blockbuster business.)

Badmouthing Your Doctor

2013-03-31T12:45:00.000-04:00

A headline on the front page of this morning's Boston Globe jumped out at me - "Doctors fire back at patient critiques: Lawsuits target harsh web posts." It tells the painful story of the relationship between Gary Cotour and Dr. Sagun Tuli, neurosurgeon for his late wife Lyn.

Dr. Tuli operated on Lyn Votour to remove cancerous vertebrae. During the second surgery Ms. Votour experienced a stroke. After a stay at a rehabilitation hospital she returned home, bedridden and dependent on a feeding tube. Two years later, depressed and in pain, Lyn Votour asked Gary to remove her feeding tube. He did so, and she died.

Mr. Votour's relationship with Dr. Tuli apparently went well during her acute hospitalization, but after discharge it fell apart. After her death Mr. Votour asked to meet with Dr. Tuli. Here's what he later said about the situation:

I was not doing well with grief. I wanted to go back and talk to Dr. Tuli about some questions that were bothering me. I really wanted to ask her why don’t doctors follow up after discharge. I wanted to understand why doctors just wash their hands after discharge.

The meeting Mr. Votour wanted never happened. Dr. Tuli claims that a hospital lawyer told her not to meet with Mr. Votour. The hospital denies this and claims that Dr. Tuli "indicated that she was not comfortable meeting with Mr. Votour."

Mr. Votour posted on his blog that doctors at the rehabilitation facility had encouraged him to file a malpractice suit against Dr. Tuli and that he lost his wife "not to cancer but to indifference and egotism."

In response, Dr. Tuli is suing Mr. Votour for defamation, asking for $100,000 in damages.

Whether it was the hospital lawyer's advice or Dr. Tuli's discomfort that led to not meeting with Mr. Votour after his wife's death, that meeting should have occurred. In addition to all of the work that has been done on the benefitial effects of apology, I draw on a personal experience here. Some decades ago I had brief contact with a college age student suffering from severe depression. The student believed that the depression stemmed from stressors, and that returning to school would alleviate the symptoms, as had occurred in the past. After discussion, I agreed with this prediction, but advised the student (I'm deliberately leaving out gender and other identifiers) to seek immediate help if the symptoms recurred. The symptoms did recur. The student sought help as I had advised, but committed suicide in the course of the care process.

The student's family asked to meet with me. We met for an hour or two. They pressed me to explain why I supported return to college rather than immediate hospitalization. After I did so they asked if I felt I had made a mistake. I said that I had thought carefully about the advice I'd given, but that in retrospect I wished I had followed a different course. I expressed my great sorrow about the student's death. It was one of the most painful meetings of my entire career.

Some years later I was contacted by a malpractice lawyer representing the family. My anxiety soared. The lawyer asked me for information, but told me that the family was bringing suit against the college, and had specifically requested that I not be brought into the case.

Given the terrible outcome it would have been entirely understandable for me to have been sued. I believe the heart to heart meeting we had had after the student's suicide assuaged potential bitterness against me. The family may well have felt that I made an erroneous judgment, but they did not feel as Mr. Votour did that the student's death was caused by "indifference and egotism."

The Boston Globe article quotes David Ardia, codirector of the Center for Media Law and Policy at the University of North Carolina, about the impact of the Internet on physician concern about our reputations:

the Internet has realigned the power structure that existed between doctors and patients, giving patients far more influence than they have ever had. The Web is just chock-full of people commenting on their experiences. Doctors have reacted with a great deal of hostility toward this.

The article led me to look myself up on the rate-your-physician sites. The single patient response on healthgrades gave me the lowest possible grades on every category. I ended my clinical practice five years ago, but if I were still in practice I'd be concerned that 100% of the reviews I'd received gave me a F grade.

Dr. Tuli's suit against Mr. Votour reflects a classical form of "good vs good" ethical conflict. Freedom of speech is a fundamental good, enshrined in the First Amendment. But our public reputations are precious to us, and even a non-verbal critique like the one an anonymous former patient gave me on healthgrades can undermine a career. As unseemly as it is for a physician to sue a former patient, Dr. Tuli will not be the last physician to follow that unhappy route.

(Two examples of enterprises that offer to protect physician reputations can be seen here and here. And, thanks to an anonymous reader, here is a link to the original post that is no longer on the web.)

A Personal Experience with Medical Cost Containment

2013-03-29T16:30:00.000-04:00

When I saw my primary care physician earlier this week he gave me a pep talk about scheduling the colonoscopy I'd been dawdling on doing. I decided it was time to follow his advice.

I had two reasons for being concerned about how much the colonoscopy would cost. First, from the self-centered perspective, my insurance includes a $1500 deductible, so I would be paying some or all of the cost on my own nickel. Second, from the perspective of a concerned citizen, I believe we all have a moral responsibility to (a) take care of our health (b) at the lowest cost to collective insurance funds. If the test cost more than my deductible my fellow insurees will be paying for my charges, and I should consider their financial well-being just as I consider my own.

I'd recently received notice that my self-insured employer offers a service called SaveOn, provided by Tandem Care, a five year old New Hampshire company that gives patients comparative cost information on services within their insurance network. If we're already scheduled to go to a "low cost" provider, we get a $10 reward simply for having called the SaveOn program. If we're scheduled for a high cost provider and choose to go to a lower cost provider instead, we get a reward of $25 to $75, depending on the cost of the procedure.

I receive my care from Harvard Vanguard Medical Associates, a large non-profit, multi-specialty group practice in Massachusetts. I preferred to have the colonoscopy done at the HVMA facility. Doing so would ensure the best coordination of information flow and followup. But suppose an alternative of good enough quality cost $500 less? Would coordination be worth that much additional cost to me?

I called the SaveOn service with some trepidation. The service itself was excellent. A nurse answered my call after one ring. She took my information efficiently and called me back within 15 minutes. Happily, the site I'd been referred to within the group practice was considered a "low cost provider." That spared me the challenge of (a) deciding how much additional cost continuity of care was worth to me and (b) chiding my medical team for being "high cost." The SaveOn nurse told me I'd receive a $10 check after the procedure was done.

Within the cockamamie U.S. health "system," Tandem Care/SaveOn are providing a valuable service. In our consumer role it helps us take care of ourselves at a lower cost. Even if our insurance does not include a deductible - something that is increasingly rare nowadays - the reward for choosing a lower cost provider is enough to matter to us. In our citizen role the program helps us reduce overall costs to the body politic, and, at the same time, educates us to think about costs in health care as we do in virtually every other aspect of our lives.

For decades, we in the U.S. have been searching desperately for ways to make health care less costly. None of the gimmicks we try will work unless we citizens embrace the effort. If we had a national system with a budget paid for via our taxes the way most other developed countries do we'd be invested in getting the most bang for our bucks. But in the highly fragmented "system" we have, the relationship between overall costs and the choices we make as individuals is largely invisible to us. My little experience with SaveOn shows how smart systems can help to make us less stupid about costs!

Using the Web to Improve Care for Depression

2013-03-08T17:00:00.000-05:00

I've imagined that if I were starting my career in psychiatry now I'd work at the intersection of clinical care and the web. A recent article on "Web-Delivered Care Management and Patient Self-Management Program for Recurrent Depression: A Randomized Trial" convinces me to stick with my fantasy about what I'd do if reincarnated.

The project was conducted at The Permanente Medical Group in Northern California. Patients with chronic or recurrent depression were invited to participate in a randomized trial of usual care compared to usual care plus a web-based care management and patient self-management program that was available for 12 months. The web program included self-monitoring tools, secure messaging with a nurse care manager, depression education stressing cognitive behavioral methods, a monitored discussion group, a personal database, task lists, and an appointment calendar. Interviewers blind to the treatment condition interviewed the patients at 6,12, 18 and 24 months. Participants could enlist a "care partner" for whom web-based materials were also available.

The outcomes were impressive. The "experimental" group had significantly greater reduction in depression that lasted through the year after the web-based intervention ended. They had more confidence in their ability to cope with the mood disorder and more satisfaction with their care. The intervention itself cost $345 per participant. The nurse care manager logs indicated that a nurse could manage 200 patients in ten hours a week. There was no difference in total medical costs between the two groups.

So why do I write about this on an ethics blog?

In 1994 I was asked to edit a quarterly column about managed care for the American Psychiatric Association journal Psychiatric Services. (I edited and wrote the column for ten years.) Readers probably wanted to read about the evils of managed care, but I felt there was more than enough managed care bashing available, and chose to develop columns on how to manage care in ways that were clinically informed and ethically admirable. My underlying belief was, and is, that managed care, "appropriately" conducted, is the most ethical way to structure a health care system.

The e-care program at Kaiser Permanente took evidence-based components of effective treatment for depression and "re-engineered" them into an efficient web-based format. The medical group carried out the intervention and studied it in a rigorous manner. Their work combined clinical innovation with development of valuable new knowledge. The intervention appears to deliver more benefit at no increase in cost. "Benefit" is a bland word, but anyone who has experienced depression or is close to someone who has knows how much suffering the condition can entail.

There's an ethical imperative for us clinicians to evaluate what we do in order to make treatment more effective and efficient over time. That's what the team at Kaiser Permanente and their colleagues did. It would have been clinically and ethically acceptable for them to have implemented the program without studying its results, but they conducted research along with implementing the program. As a result, we're smarter and have new tools for making treatment better. That's why I write about their work in an ethics blog!

Nonprofit Regional Health Plans

2013-02-06T09:00:00.000-05:00

As the US health system moves towards the 2014 launching of health exchanges and other components of Obamacare, regional nonprofit health plans are poised to take a distinctively important role.

An article in today's New York Times described the steps Florida Blue, which covers 4 million Floridians - 30 percent of the Florida insurance market - is taking. The proposal for a "public option" like Medicare for all that would compete with private insurers crashed and burned in the health reform process, but regional nonprofits like Florida Blue are carrying out the function that was envisioned for the public option. Nonprofits can't function without making a margin beyond their expenses, but their structure allows them to be more mission-driven and locally connected than investor-owned plans.

For much of my clinical career I practiced at the nonprofit Harvard Community Health Plan (HCHP) HMO. My late father, who lived in Florida, know how much I respected HCHP, and asked me if he should join an HMO. At that time none of his choices were nonprofits, and I'd read about various scandals in the Florida market. If he'd been living in Massachusetts I would have encouraged him to join HCHP where I and my family got our care, but I advised him against the HMO route in Florida.

Medical care is ultimately local. It works best when clinicians and their organizations are part of the local community. This passage in the article stood out for me:

“Florida Blue has the same problems everyone else has,” said Dr. Michael A. Wasylik, an orthopedic surgeon in Tampa who works with insurers through the Florida Medical Association, but “they have a better trust relationship with doctors.” The local representatives are better able to address doctors’ concerns, he said.

Health reform won't get anywhere without enthusiastic participation from the clinical community. Insurers can facilitate reform, but they can't make it happen. Engagement with the local community, and above all the kind of trust that Dr. Wasylik refers to, are key. If the national for-profit giants can compete successfully with regional nonprofits like Florida Blue, more power to them. But if the narrow margins and need for highly collaborative relationships with the clinical community make Obamacare an undesirable business opportunity, regional nonprofits like Florida Blue will flourish.

Ignoring Families Can be Fatal

2013-02-04T20:30:00.000-05:00

Yesterday in Heathrow Airport on my way home from Singapore I wrote a post about how US medical ethics ignores families and overemphasizes individual "autonomy." When I got home I read a painful story in the New York Times that confirmed the potential harm from the way ethics and law lead clinicians to treat individuals as isolated units: "Drowned in a Stream of Prescriptions: Addict's Parents Couldn't Halt Flow of Attention Deficit Drug.

Richard Fee, an intelligent, popular student who hoped to go to medical school, became addicted to stimulants in college. He faked symptoms of ADHD and received increasing doses of stimulants over a two year period. He ultimately became psychotic, and when the stimulants were stopped, became depressed (not unusual during stimulant withdrawal) and hung himself. The central points of the story are (1) how psychiatry has degenerated into brief "med checks" in which prescriptions are written without adequate thought about what's really going on and (2) how the pharmaceutical industry has succeeded in pushing medication use way beyond what good health and good practice call for.

But having just come from a conference on "The Ethics of Family Involvement in Healthcare," I was transfixed by what happened when Richard's father, who was terrified about his son's deterioration, and who understood the addiction problem, tried to talk with Richard's psychiatrist:

In late December, Mr. Fee drove to Dominion Psychiatric and asked to see Dr. Ellison, who explained that federal privacy laws forbade any discussion of an adult patient, even with the patient’s father. Mr. Fee said he had tried unsuccessfully to detail Richard’s bizarre behavior, assuming that Richard had not shared such details with his doctor.

“I can’t talk to you,” Mr. Fee recalled Dr. Ellison telling him. “I did this one time with another family, sat down and talked with them, and I ended up getting sued. I can’t talk with you unless your son comes with you.”

Mr. Fee said he had turned to leave but distinctly recalls warning Dr. Ellison, “You keep giving Adderall to my son, you’re going to kill him.”

I heard about situations like this again and again during my years of psychiatric practice. Whereas in Singapore respect for the family can lead to ignoring the patient, in the US respect for the individual can lead to grotesque stonewalling of the family. Dr. Ellison was not wrong that privacy laws emphasize the individual's right to privacy and to control access to information about him, but skillful clinicians learn how to (a) recognize the law but (b) do what's right for the patient. Law precluded Dr. Ellison from giving information to Richard's father, but it did not preclude listening to his father, explaining why he would not give out information without Richard's permission, thanking the father for his concern, and creating an opportunity for further connection.

Years ago I had a patient who (a) was in a suicidal crisis, (b) hated the hospital and had not benefitted from previous admissions, and (c) had responsible, caring friends who (d) were able to provide support and (e) would want to do so. My patient and I had a version of the following dialogue:

Patient: I won't go to the hospital!
Me: I don't want you in the hospital, but we have to keep you safe, and we'll need help from XYZ.
Patient: You can't talk with them.
Me: Since I know how much you hate the hospital and believe we can get you better without it, I'm going to talk with XYZ, but I want to do it with your permission.
Patient: You can't talk with XYZ - what about privacy and my rights?
Me: Your most important right is to be alive until your time comes. I'd like to have your permission to talk with XYZ, but I'm going to do it one way or the other...

My patient ultimately grudging agreed, XYZ came to the office, and we got through the crisis. But I'd meant what I'd said - if my patient had not given me permission I would have contacted XYZ. It made no sense for law to give me the power to impose involuntary hospital commitment but to forbid me from getting help from caring and competent friends without permission.

As Dr. Johnson taught us, the law can be an ass. US laws surrounding informational privacy are well-intended, but they're too simple-minded to apply to all human situations. Richard Fee might be alive if the medical establishment had not treated him as an isolated atom suffering from a deficiency of stimulant medication.

Western Bioethics Ignores the Family

2013-02-03T08:00:00.000-05:00

At the end of my stay in Singapore I participated in a conference on "The Ethics of Family Involvement in Healthcare," sponsored by an international research consortium I'd not encountered before but whose mission I was totally in sync with:

Despite many attempts to broaden its ethical gaze beyond the patient-centered focus of traditional medical ethics, bioethics remains strongly individualistic. The patient is treated as a self-interested individual unencumbered by personal relationships, and the principle of self-determination is dominant. However, many areas of biomedicine call for a more relational perspective. This international collaborative project on family ethics is about just that.

In my clinical work I've been very attentive to the family context of my patients, but in my work on ethics it's the neglect of the individual's responsibilities as part of a society that I've attended to. I've argued ad infinitum that medical ethics - especially in the US - has attended too exclusively to the needs and interests of the "numerator" (the individual) without attending to the needs and interests of the "denominator" (the society the individual is part of). In the US that focus has led to wildly excessive health expenditures and neglect of public health and other social goods.

In 1989, during my first visit to India, I visited the psychiatry department at Banaras Hindu University. A resident who was Indian by birth but who'd lived in the US through his teen age years and seemed very American was showing me around. On a hospital ward I saw an older woman combing the hair of young adult patient. I asked about what I interpreted as remarkable nursing care. The resident explained that this was her mother, and that patients were accompanied in the hospital by family members. I then asked a very American question - weren't the patients worried about privacy and confidentiality? The resident, despite having grown up in the US, simply didn't understand my question. He explained that their worry was about not being extruded from the family.

My question showed that I'd been more influenced than I'd realized by the tendency in US psychiatry to blame the family for the patient's problems. When I trained as a resident (1965 - 1968) and did a fellowship at the Family Studies Unit at the National Institute of Health (1968 - 1970), the concept of the "schizophrenogenic mother" was still widely accepted. When I was responsible for a hospital unit at the Massachusetts Mental Health Center (1970 - 1973), I was concerned that many staff members had a hostile view towards families, and often made them feel unwelcome, and I did teaching sessions about the important role of families as caretakers. But at Banaras Hindu University my reaction focused on fear of not having privacy, not fear losing family ties.

I believe the tendency of US medical ethics to see the individual as an atom of self-interest and threatened rights comes from two main sources - (a) the anti-family tilt of American culture in the last half of the 20th century and (b) an effort to give the patient more authority and power in the patient/physician relationship. This latter aim has led to a beneficial and overdue rebalancing of the interaction between patient and physician elegantly conceptualized in the concept of "shared decision making," but US medical ethics needs to incorporate more recognition of the role of "families of origin" and "families of choice" in the ethical equation.

There's no way to make clinical ethics tidy. Sometimes families are intrusive, hurtful, and even profoundly destructive. Somtimes they are nurturing and crucial for an individual's well being. And, as most of us have experienced, family involvement is typically a blend of delight and exasperation. Sorting out the situation is what makes the health professions so challenging, so important, and so much fun!

Suing your children in Singapore

2013-01-31T06:00:00.000-05:00

In the post I wrote yesterday I referred to the tradition of filial piety in Singapore. When I was discussing that topic with a lawyer at the Centre for Biomedical Ethics he told me about Singapore's fascinating "Maintenance of Parents Act," which went into effect in 1996.

The law allows any Singapore resident, 60 years old and above, who is unable to maintain himself adequately, to claim maintenance from his or her children, either in a lump-sum payment, or in the form of monthly allowances. If the parent gives consent, relatives or caregivers may apply for court action on the parent's behalf. Cases (recently there have been about 100-150 per year) are heard by a special Tribunal that decides whether payment should be made and how much it should be, based on criteria including the parent's financial needs and the child's earning capacity and other financial obligations. The maintenance claim may be dismissed if the children can prove that they were abused, neglected or abandoned by their parents when they were young. The law stipulates that only the basic amenities and physical needs of the applicant including shelter, food and clothing are required. The maintenance is not linked to the parent’s previous standard of living.The applicants tend to be Chinese fathers, either widowed or divorced.
The law was proposed by Walter Woon, who was a member of the Singapore Parliament at the time and also professor of law at the National University of Singapore.I found his comments about the law very persuasive, and quote them here:

Some critics have said that applying to the court for maintenance from one's children is undignified. I wonder whether it is more dignified to apply for public assistance or to depend on the kindness of strangers. Or perhaps it would be more dignified to starve quietly and without fuss.

Cynics have dubbed this the 'Sue Your Son' law. They miss the point completely. It would be only in a very extreme case that any parent would take his children to court. The effect of the bill, if it becomes law, will be more subtle.

First, it will reaffirm the notion that each individual has a responsibility to look after his parents. It is not society's responsibility. Singapore is still conservative enough so that this idea is not objectionable to most people. The bill reinforces the traditional values of Christianity, Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism as well as Confucianism. It doesn't hurt a society now and then to be reminded of what its core values are.

Second and more important, it will make those who are inclined to shirk their responsibility think twice. As things stand, If a person asks family members or clergymen or the Ministry of Community Development to help him get financial support from his children, the most that they can do is to try to mediate. The trouble with mediation is that the mediators have no teeth. They can exhort, preach, persuade, cajole, plead and even beg. But when push comes to shove, there is currently no way that a son can be forced to support his parents.

But if there were a legal remedy, that would be a different matter. To be sued by one's parents would entail a massive loss of face. It would be a public disgrace. The hand of the conciliator would be immeasurably strengthened. It is far more likely that some sort of amicable settlement would be reached through private mediation if the recalcitrant son knows that the alternative is a public trial. So, one hopes that the fact that such a law exists will make it unnecessary for it to be invoked.

The critics who say that the proposed law does not promote filial piety are right. It has nothing to do with filial piety. It kicks in where filial piety fails. The law cannot legislate love between parents and children and husbands and wives. All the law can do is provide a safety net where morality proves insufficient.

I take a pragmatic view. The law I have proposed won't affect the people who already are supporting their parents, not only with money but, it is hoped, with love and respect. The only ones who need worry are those who aren't living up to their moral obligations. If the law helps even one poor person, I think the effort is worth it.

Many years ago, in what turned out to be the last year of my father's life, I persuaded him to move from Florida to Massachusetts, where I live. He was blind from macular degeneration and needed a supportive living environment - ultimately one with 24 hour nursing care available. I engaged a geriatric care manager to help me (his only child) scope out the options. She told me about maneuvers that would allow him to receive Medicaid support. In the spirit of Professor Woon, I did not want to do that. The care my father needed was costly, but I could afford it, and it seemed obviously wrong to ask my fellow citizens to support him. If I had refused to pay for his support I hope Medicaid would have come after me, as Professor Woon wanted the Singapore authorities to be able to do.

Setting Limits Fairly in Singapore (2)

2013-01-30T21:15:00.002-05:00

I wrote a post yesterday before I led a workshop for ethics committees or hospital personnel simply interested in the ethics of setting limits in health care . Today I want to write about what I learned from the 25 wonderfully engaged folks I met with and from conversations subsequent to the workshop. Here are my initial observations:

One of the three core components of the framework for setting limits fairly that Norman Daniels and I developed is publicity or transparency. On the basis of our observations in the US, Canada, and the National Health Service in England, we argued that those responsible for setting limits (health plans, government agencies) should share the rationale for policies and decisions with the public. In liberal democracies in the west, this stipulation is widely accepted. My impression is that Singapore has more of a tradition of accepting governance by experts and judging their policies by results, without expecting the level of transparency, access and participation that is especially valued in the US. The group I spoke with suggested that the value we in the US place on transparency is not as strongly shared by the population and government in Singapore. To be useful, transparency requires a public experienced in understanding, evaluating, and interacting with policy makers, and policy makers experienced in a reciprocal role. My tentative conclusion thus far is that for transparency to contribute to improved policy making in Singapore, a period of learning or skill development will be required. I did not recommend a sudden shift in practice, but did suggest development of a strategy for how to engage the public in constructive interactions over time.
Physicians in the group told me that it's common for families to press for continued "treatment" even when the clinical staff has concluded that comfort care is the right approach. I asked them whether families doubted their clinical assessment or believed that a miracle might occur. Those weren't the reasons. They explained that there is a strong expectation of filial piety in Singaporean culture, and not pressing for continued active "treatment" felt disrespectful and even shameful to the family. They hoped that as advance directive conversations became better developed they will be able to talk with children about "what would your father/mother have wanted in this situation?" Their sense was that as is true in the US, most elderly people would want to shift to comfort care and not be "flogged" by fruitless interventions. Moving to comfort care could then be seen as the way to show true filial piety!
As part of our discussion of the family role in setting limits, a participant told us that because of family guilt if they feel they aren't doing "everything," talking with families about options that from a realistic perspective offer no benefit even though we can never say with absolute certainty that they won't be effective for the first time now can cause real harm to families. She described a situation in which a family sold its home to pay for an intervention that in practical terms was "futile."
Singapore health policy has been developed to minimize the risk of what they call the "buffet syndrome" - that full coverage creates "moral hazard" and will lead to excessive utilization. Their system of required savings to pay towards one's own (and one's family's) care is very cleverly engineered to confront Singaporeans with the cost implications of their treatment and, at the same time, to try to make sure that they have resources in their savings accounts to pay for their choices. But with an aging population, more chronic illness, and new technologies, middle class families are facing costs they can't reasonably meet. The group cited another instance where in order to finance valuable treatment a family had to sell its home and impoverish itself. This was consistent with what a taxi driver told me - "In Singapore you can die, but you can't be sick."

Because of its good population health outcomes and low public spending (between 4-5% of GDP) the Singapore health system has received great praise, especially from strong believers in the market and "skin in the game." But because of the high payment expectations it sets for its citizens it has been criticized by liberal believers in comprehensive coverage. From my meeting with the workshop participants, and from a subsequent meeting with officials in the Ministry of Health, I believe the praisers and the critics are both wrong. Singapore hasn't found a magic bullet that can be readily transferred elsewhere. But Singapore hasn't created a cold, uncaring system. They're struggling very thoughtfully with the problem every developed economy is struggling with - how to find the optimal combination of communitarian caring for the population with the individuals responsibility for his own health and for the cost of care for himself and his family. What I would praise and want the US to emulate is the combination of thoughtfulness, analytical clarity, and non-ideological deliberation about managing the dilemmas of modern health care.

Setting Limits Fairly in Singapore (1)

2013-01-28T23:11:00.000-05:00

This afternoon I'm speaking to members of the ethics committee (and interested others) at Tan Tock Seng Hospital in Singapore. The hospital was founded in 1844 by Mr. Tan, a wealthy Chinese businessman, who donated $7,000 to found a hospital for the "diseased of all nations." It's a large hospital, with 460 emergency visits and more than 2,000 specialty clinic visits every day.

I've been asked to speak about "Accountability for Reasonableness," the framework for setting limits that Norman Daniels and I described in our book Setting Limits Fairly. From a combination of conceptual analysis and field work done in the U.S. at not-for-profit organizations like Kaiser Permanente, and in Canada and the UK, we concluded that health care limit-setting required a fair process, which the book explicated. The framework emphasizes the role of relevant reasons, transparency about policies and their rationales, and processes for appeal and revision.

The framework has been found useful in liberal western democracies like Canada, the National Health Service in England, and the Scandinavian countries that have universal coverage under publicly established budgets. Singapore is decidedly "first world" in its remarkable economic achievements since independence (1965) - its per capita GDP in 2011 was approximately the equivalent of US$50,000, and the unemployment rate was 2.1%. From talking with Singaporeans and reading, my impression of the society and its governance is that it is much readier to accept expert authority than the US and liberal western democracies.

The ethics committee has asked me to discuss the case of a middle aged man with severe rheumatoid arthritis, for whom a costly new medication has been recommended. In the US context there would be no question as to whether insurance would cover the medicine if the clinical reasoning behind the recommendation was sound. Any debate about coverage would be expected to be open to public scrutiny. From what I learned from my colleagues in rheumatology, a patient in his condition would expect to have access to the medication in the US, and would certainly expect to be able to challenge a decision not to be given access.

But as a visitor here I'm acutely aware of what a terrible example the US sets as a health system. Our costs are strangling other important societal investments, and because of our out of control costs we've left 50 million to be uninsured. So while I'm proud of the work Norman Daniels and I have done on fairness, I'm agnostic about its relevance for another society with (a) different moral and political traditions and (b) excellent overall health outcomes. I'll be introduced as a visiting expert, but before meeting with a group that provides clinical care and is concerned with ethics, I feel more like a learner than like someone ready to pronounce the truth about setting limits in a society significantly different from my own.

Health Care in Singapore

2013-01-26T03:53:00.001-05:00

I've had the good fortune to be invited by the Singapore Centre for Biomedical Ethics to do a week of teaching about health system ethics. Right now I'm at Heathrow airport in London, in between the Boston to|London and London to Singapore legs of my trip.

Although there's been a lot of interest in Singapore among health policy cognoscenti, I'd been in the dark about the Singapore system until I started preparing for my visit. My impression thus far is that the People's Action Party, which has governed since independence in 1965, sees health care as (a) a crucial contributor to well-being but (b) largely an individual responsibility to provide for oneself and one's family, and (c) not a right the state is responsible for fulfilling.

When Singapore became independent in 1965 it was impoverished, with a life expectancy of not much more than 60. The government's initial emphasis was on the determinants of population health - housing, clean water, jobs, and education. On the basis of their vigorous action, health and mortality improved markedly. In 1984 they introduced a mandatory medical savings account program - "Medisave" - in which all working people, including the self employed, contributed 6-8% of income to their "Central Provident Fund" account, to be used for their own medical care and for family members (spouse, children, parents and grandparents). In the 1990s the government introduced an insurance scheme ("Medishield") and a means tested fund for low income folks ("Medifund"). But there's still a very strong emphasis on individual responsibility and paying a fair share of the cost, even for the poor. (For information about the Central Provident Fund and the system of "3 Ms", see here .)

I've been told the Singaporean government sees "insurance" in a negative light. "Insurance" connotes dependency on the state and abdication of personal responsibility. In the U.S. the frequent comment that our health system is so out of control because the population lacks "skin in the game" comes from the same moral and economic perspective. As a dyed in the wool liberal I'm a staunch believer in a universal system - either something like Medicare for all or guaranteed access to strictly regulated health plans. The framework of values in Singapore is jarring for me, but their outcomes appear to be terrific, in terms of health indices and a much less costly system than we have in the U.S.

Since I recurrently criticize conservatives for what I describe as their "theological" commitment to market solutions, to be consistent I have to challenge my own liberal theology on this visit to Singapore. Stay tuned

Victor Fuchs on health reform

2013-01-05T10:00:00.000-05:00

I've never met Victor Fuchs, but I've admired and learned from his writings for years. His article in this week's JAMA on "How and Why US Health Care Differs From That in Other OECD Countries" is a gem. Here's a summary:

US expenditures differ from the average OECD country in three ways:

As a percentage of GDP, US expenditures are twice as high.
The share of expenditures funded by government in the US is 46%, compared to a 75% average for other OECD countries.
The mix of services differs substantially - intense focus on technology vs more basic care.

Here's how Fuchs explains the difference, again in a series of three:

The US population has a much more distrustful attitude towards government - a trend with deep historical roots.
The US population is much less committed to equal outcomes through redistributive policies.
The US political system provides many "choke points" that allow special interests to block or reshape reform efforts.

Finally, Fuchs draws three practical conclusions for future reform efforts:

"[G]overnment's role should be limited to what is necessary, not just desirable."
"[P]rovision of basic coverage for all should not require equality for obtaining additional coverage...individuals should be free to purchase more than basic care."
"[R]eform should have features that would appeal to some special interests, or to some elements within each special interest group."

Fuchs, who is presumably in his mid 80s (he graduated from NYU in 1947), is giving us the gift of his wisdom. His two page JAMA piece ends this way:

Comprehensive health care reform in the United States is necessary to avoid a financial disaster, but enactment of such reform will require attention to US history, values, and politics."

Fuchs' analysis is relevant for liberal critics of the Affordable Care Act. In the eyes of single payer advocates and other progressives, the ACA is a disappointing flop. But by Fuchs' three practical conclusions, the ACA was the best that could be achieved in 2010. The right approach for progressives is to do all we can to make it work.

Plastic Surgeon-Patient Sex

2012-12-22T11:30:00.000-05:00

I recently received these questions about doctor-patient sex with a plastic surgeon:

My married sister's plastic surgeon called to give his condolences after the passing of our father. The doctor continued to call and fostered a personal friendship with her. He started to confide in her about his marital problems. They arranged to meet for dinner and entered into a 18 month affair. When my brother in-law discovered the affair, the doctor quickly abandoned her and started to make her look like the person who wanted the affair. My brother in-law filed an ethics complaint which is under investigation for over a year. I am the only person my sister will discuss the affair with, but not the only person that can see how the affair has affected her mentally. She is extremely depressed, filled with guilt and shame and has talked to me about ending her life. She refuses therapy, so I do the best I can to help her. Lately because of our conversations, I truly feel he took advantage of a vulnerable patient who was depressed over the loss of her father. She told me she had become dependent on him. Can you explain this dependence? She says she now knows how people follow a cult leader. Her pain is real and the result of a consensual affair with her doctor. He is not a mental health doctor; will he be held to the same standard? (emphasis added)

In my response I emphasized that how important it was to help the patient accept counseling. Here I want to discuss the question of whether the plastic surgeon would be held to the same ethical standard as a psychiatrist.

To my eye, although the code of ethics for the plastic surgery specialty prohibits "sexual misconduct," it defines the term in a way that leaves patients and the profession vulnerable:

Sexual or romantic relationships with current or former patients are unethical if the physician uses or exploits trust, knowledge, emotions, or influence derived from the current or previous professional relationship.

The relationship between plastic surgeon and patient is intensely personal as well as technically demanding. Especially for surgery with aesthetic aims, patients entrust the surgeon with potential for making them look more the way they dream of appearing. For female patients, interventions may involve face, breasts, genitals, and their overall sense of "desirability." In terms of the question the patient's sister posed to me - the doctor-patient relationship in plastic surgery would seem to have all of the key characteristics that occur in mental health practice: exposure of deeply personal concerns, potential idealization of the clinician as a "saviour," and "transference" of feelings from the past. And, unlike psychiatry, ordinary practice involves disrobing and touching.

It's hard to see how a "sexual or romantic relationship" between plastic surgeon and patient would not draw in "trust, knowledge, emotions, or influence" derived from the professional relationship, whether or not the physician is consciously "using" or "exploiting" those factors. Even if passions are not involved, it would be very difficult to ascertain whether the factors the code of ethics prohibits were present. Sexual attraction and feelings of love are not known for inducing heightened intellectual and analytic lucidity!

I was unable to find any data on the frequency of complaints about sexual/romantic relationships between patients and their plastic surgeons. Unfortunately, a review of five years of complaints made to the ethics committee of the professional association did not report on the specific content of the complaints. But in light of the nature of the patient-doctor relationship in plastic surgery, I believe that the position of the American Psychiatric Association - that sexual relationships with current or former patients are unethical - would apply with equal relevance to plastic surgery.

In answer to the question posed by the patient's sister, I could not respond that the physician would be held to the same standard as a psychiatrist, but did say that I thought that should be the case.

Sex isn't the only lust that physicians succumb to

2012-12-16T11:00:00.000-05:00

Money and power can also lead to ethical collapse.

A sad story today's New York Times tells how Dr. Sidney Gilman, a respected teacher and researcher on drugs for Alzheimer's disease, has been nailed for warning a hedge fund manager he'd been dealing with to dump a pharmaceutical stock before news of a failed drug trial became public. Gilman had access to the information from his role on an FDA panel.

From responses to a number of the posts I've written about doctor-patient sex, it's clear that physicians who violate basic ethical standards can be superb caretakers for their other patients. Dr. Gilman, now 80, apparently had an exemplary career in teaching and research. A neurology lecture series at University of Michigan Medical School is named for him. And a colleague reported that he frequently turned to Dr. Gilman for advice about ethical issues:

He always gave me rock-solid advice and counseled me to maintain transparency so as to avoid even the appearance of a conflict of interest.

Re Dr. Gilman's teaching about transparency, the Times reports that to avoid arousing suspicion about his consultation to the hedge fund about the Alzheimer's drug, Gilman asked his co-conspirator to label the consultations as about other, unrelated topics.

Dr. Gilman could do a service to medicine and medical ethics by sharing the inside story about how a physician who apparently conducted himself in an admirable manner for most of his career descended into obvious unethicality (and criminality) as he did. What steps led from honorable conduct to dishonor? Did he delude himself as to what he was doing, or did he make a Faustian bargain to proceed? Better understanding of the "mechanisms" that facilitate serious ethical lapses can help educators work more effectively towards prevention.

(For an interesting post from a hedge fund insider, see here.)

Accountable Care Sprints Ahead

2012-12-11T09:00:00.000-05:00

A recent report from the Oliver Wyman consulting firm - "The ACO Surprise" - argues that ACOs are on the verge of triggering a major transformation of the US health system. I hope their prediction comes true!

For all the complexity of federal ACO regulations, I see ACOs as making four core basic commitments:

Take responsibility for helping a population be as healthy as possible
Connect specialties, disciplines, and sites (hospitals, rehabilitation, nursing homes) in a coordinated manner
Engage patients as active partners - ideally leaders - in promoting their own health and guiding their treatment
Accept payment for producing valuable results for the population, not for the individual units of service rendered

Here's the Oliver Wyman view of the near term ACO landscape:

2.4 million current Medicare ACO patients
15 million non-Medicare patients of the Medicare ACOs. The report predicts that the Medicare ACOs will move towards caring for all of their patients in the "ACO manner"
8 - 14 million patients to be cared for in non-Medicare ACOs

If Oliver Wyman is correct, it won't be many years before 10 percent of the US population receives its care in accord with the ACO philosophy. Insofar as ACOs are successful in creating more value for patients per dollar of investment, they'll come to dominate the marketplace.

In my physician hat I see the ACO vision as embodying the fundamental values that motivate most clinicians. The reason I joined the not-for-profit Harvard Community Health Plan practice in 1975 was because it was organized around those values.

In my patient hat, I've chosen to have my own medical care from one of the "Pioneer ACOs". I want my doctors, nurses and hospitalists (if I come under their wing in the future) to collaborate in what they do with, for and to me.

Some years ago a patient of mine was in a severe state of psychiatric crisis. The long term problem was a major psychiatric ailment, but the immediate challenge was getting control of acute alcohol abuse. I made what felt like a zillion telephone calls (this was before all parties used a shared electronic medical record) to alert all those likely to be involved with my patient to the clinical situation and what I was recommending. A week or so later my patient reported - with appreciation - "I spoke with nine different people last week and they all said the same thing..." The crisis subsided.

From the perspective of clinicians and patients, care delivered in accord with the first three ACO commitments listed above feels right. The three commitments meet patient wishes and reflect the underlying ideals of the health professions. The fourth commitment is what matters to us from the economic perspective. I share CMS's belief that doing the right thing in health care will end up saving money. But that will be a happy result of ACOs, not the reason for going down that path.

Politics vs Rational Medicare Reform

2012-12-09T17:45:00.000-05:00

I'm a staunch New England liberal/yellow dog Democrat. And I support Howard Dean's organization - Democracy for America. But I shuddered when I received this message in a fund-raising email:

Republicans lost big in the election, but John Boehner is trying to force his right-wing agenda on the American people anyway. Republicans in Congress are taking advantage of the fiscal showdown and trying to jam through massive cuts to Medicare that would be devastating to America's seniors. (emphasis in the original)

Republicans, occasionally joined by renegade Democrats, have plenty of bad ideas about Medicare, like raising the age of eligibility (see here) and turning Medicare into a voucher program (see here).

But experts agree that at least 30% of what we spend on health care is waste. I've talked with lots of practicing physicians about this. No one has ever estimated waste at less than 25%, and many have estimated it at 50%.

The threat to Medicare is dumb ideas like vouchers and raising the age of eligibility, not the idea of reducing the trend line of cost increases. Doing that is an economic necessity for a thriving economy and a moral necessity on behalf of future generations and other social needs.

Dumb cuts "would be devastating to America's seniors." Clinically guided waste reduction would be a positive service, not a devastation. I hope that behind closed doors and away from sloganeering, our leaders - Democrats & Republicans - will move beyond demagoguery to consider how the federal government can promote prudent waste reduction in the Medicare program.

More about the Massachusetts Board of Registration in Medicine and Doctor-Patient Sex

2012-11-29T20:30:00.000-05:00

There were two letters to the editor in today's Boston Globe about the Massachusetts Board of Registration in Medicine's decision to take away Dr. Gary Brockington's license. (See here for my original post.)

Nurse Mary Hourihan gives a perspective on Dr. Brockington's overall practice like what we've heard from patients of other physicians who have been disciplined for sexual relationships with patients:

As a nurse who has worked at the Faulkner Hospital for more than 30 years, I was shocked and saddened to read your article concerning the state Board of Registration in Medicine’s revocation of Dr. Gary Brockington’s medical license (“Board revokes Faulkner cardiologist’s license after affair,” Metro, Nov. 24). The doctor has cared for his many patients with the utmost professionalism and expertise. Although I do not work directly with him, nearly every day I hear from our mutual patients the reverence in which he is held.

The board is denying thousands of patients the skilled, sensitive care this extraordinary physician provides. I feel that Brockington and his patients deserve reconsideration of this decision.

Mary Hourihan

West Roxbury

There's nothing surprising about the fact that a physician who displayed a serious ethical lapse with a patient may have been an excellent physician for most or almost all of his patients. (For example, see here.) In my own experience, a former colleague who I knew to be a superb physician, such that I referred one of my sons to him for allergy care, has been convicted for murdering his wife! In prison, he continues to evince the caretaking characteristics that were so prominent in his care of patients. (See here.)

Donald Ross, a physician colleague of Dr. Brockington, comes to the same conclusion I did - that if Brockington's relationship with the patient was a brief, one-time event that occurred during a period of major stress, the Board's actions were too harsh. But I don't agree with Ross that the Board's decision necessarily reflects "lack of compassion." A Board can impose a severe penalty and still regard to person being penalized with compassion, in accord with the precept that we should hate the sin but love the sinner.

In reading the story about Dr. Gary Brockington’s affair with a woman who was a patient and a co-worker, it strikes me that the reaction of the state Board of Registration in Medicine was over the top and lacked compassion in its response (“State revokes Faulkner cardiologist’s license after affair,” Metro, Nov. 24).

Perhaps there was poor judgment involved, but this does not sound like a case in which a doctor used his position in the doctor-patient relationship in an exploitative way. Brockington was also going through a difficult time in his own personal life at the time, and sometimes we don’t make our best decisions under such circumstances.

Perhaps it would have been more appropriate to require Brockington to enter a counseling program rather than imposing what is essentially a death penalty to his career.

Dr. Donald G. Ross

North Andover

As I said in my original post, if Brockington's relationship with his patient was (1) brief, (2) a single occurrence in his practice and not a pattern, (3) occurred at a time of major stress, and (4) has been followed by years of responsible caretaking, than (5) permanent loss of license seems too severe a penalty. This is not a matter of compassion but of realism. Some perpetrators of unethical behavior can be rehabilitated and will be able to serve others in a reliably ethical manner.

Was the Massachusetts Board of Registration Too Harsh on this case of Doctor-Patient Sex?

2012-11-26T09:00:00.000-05:00

The Boston Globe recently reported that the Massachusetts Board of Registration in Medicine revoked the license of Dr. Gary Brockington, a 54 year old primary care physician and cardiologist, for having had a sexual relationship with a patient.

I've not been able to get a copy of the report from the Division of Administrative Law Appeals, so I'm entirely dependent on the Boston Globe story, which has extensive quotes from Brockington's lawyer. The story, if accurate and complete, leads me to speculate that revocation of licensure may be too severe a penalty in this specific situation.

According to the Globe, Brockington experienced a Job-like series of events in 2006. He was newly divorced, bankrupt, and depressed. During the same stretch of time his sister (his only sibling) broke her neck and was left by her husband. Brockington became legal guardian for her two young children.

One of his patients, a married woman who was a technician at the hospital where Brockington practiced, and who had worked with him on procedures, invited him to stay in her basement. According to Brockington's lawyer he told her she would have to get another primary care physician. He did, however, renew some prescriptions for her. He stayed in her home for two months. Apparently the brief sexual relationship occurred during the last two weeks of his stay. He moved out in July, 2006. The woman did not herself register a complaint.

If, as Brockington's lawyer claims, the facts show that this was a single episode in an otherwise exemplary career, it's not clear that public safety requires permanent loss of license. In other posts I've strongly supported permanent loss of license when the pattern of facts was different, as in this case. In another case, I concluded that Rhode Island was correct when it reinstated the license of a physician who participated in an extensive rehabilitation program, and agreed to continue in ongoing psychotherapy and long term supervision of practice. (see here)

The spokesman for the Massachusetts Board of Registration is quoted as saying that "the board has zero tolerance for sexual misconduct between physicians and patients." I believe that "zero tolerance" is the correct stance, but don't believe that sexual misconduct always requires permanent loss of license. If the Boston Globe article is the full story, a case can be made that this was a single, out-of-character episode that occurred in extraordinarily stressful circumstances. If that is how the Board saw the situation, I believe it acted too harshly.

Pay for Performance vs Intrinsic Motivation

2012-11-05T17:45:00.000-05:00

Among the many stories about health care heroes during Hurricane Sandy, this was my favorite:

Allison Chisholm, 46, who works for the Visiting Nurse Service, lives with a frail mother in Park Slope, Brooklyn. When the lights started flickering during the storm on Monday, she had images of her mother falling in the dark. But she also had patients who needed her, including one receiving hospice care in a 12th floor apartment in Chinatown, and one needing an intravenous round of antibiotics in the West Village.

“It was treacherous driving during the hurricane,” said Ms. Chisholm, fitting an intravenous line into the arm of Jill Gerson, 71, who teaches social work at Lehman College in the Bronx. “But it’s just something you have to do as a nurse. That continuity of care helps the healing. I don’t see this as being heroic. I have a conscience. I need to get to sleep at night.”

Ms. Chisholm was responding to intrinsic motivation - her values as a nurse, embodying the tradition associated with Florence Nightingale and Mother Theresa. She wasn't being "incentivized" (one of my least favorite words) by pay-for-performance, unless we regard the threat from her conscience that - like Lady Macbeth - she would "sleep no more" if she failed to put her values into action as a performance management system, as an "incentivizing" force!

Pay-for-performance has considerable face validity. Extrinsic motivation clearly works in vast swathes of the economy. But as my friend Dr. Steffie Woolhandler's recent post on the Health Affairs blog shows, it's not at all clear that pay-for-performance is effective in domains that have historically rested on intrinsic motivators such as idealism, altruism, and care. Pay-for-performance can increase the behaviors that are being measured, but evidence that these systems enhance patient outcomes is weak or absent. And there is substantial evidence from the behavioral economics literature that monetary rewards can actually decrease motivation for tasks that are intrinsically rewarding.

My own reaction when I hear of programs to "incentivize physicians to do [XYZ desirable clinical behavior]" is decidedly negative. When I began my own fee-for-service practice in the 1970s I took pleasure in including Medicaid beneficiaries, but after a time the burdensome paperwork and inefficient reimbursement process, combined with microscopic fees, acted as a disincentive for doing what I wanted to do, and I limited the number of Medicaid beneficiaries I took on. I didn't need to be "incentivized" but I would have responded well to a reduction of disincentives.

Rats in a Skinner box are "incentivized" by food pellets. But as the interview with Ms. Chisholm reflects, the kinds of caretaking we want to encourage in medicine flows from values, not P4P pellets. Program managers will do better by recognizing, respecting, and supporting intrinsic motivation. This is best done by removing impediments, not by the condescending view of doctors and nurses as reluctant laborers.

No Treatment as the Treatment of Choice

2012-10-16T20:00:00.000-04:00

In the October 3 issue of JAMA, Allen Detsky and Amol Verma offered "A New Model for Medical Education: Celebrating Restraint." Restraint in medical practice is decidedly un-American. Not surprisingly, the authors are Canadian!

Detsky and Verma are concerned with both quality and cost. Here's the essence of their argument:

...we suggest complementing health care cost control initiatives by transforming the current approach used in medical education that primarily rewards meticulousness of clinical investigation to one that also celebrates appropriate restraint...Clinical teachers who are role models could embrace a new approach. They could emphasize teaching restraint, both to improve health care quality and to acknowledge the professional duty of resource stewardship.

The worship of obscure diagnoses is a longstanding part of US medical culture. It's exemplified by the "zebra joke," which I first heard as a medical student in the early 1960s:

Two senior physicians are walking alongside a wall. On the other side they hear galloping foot beats. One says to the other - "what's that?" His colleague replies "it must be a zebra."

Sometimes the search for zebras turns up a real striped quadruped. When that happens it makes a heroic story. More typically the search involves "zebra tests" which turn up "incidentalomas," abnormal findings that have no clinical significance, but which elicit further tests. Apart from the wasteful expenditures the search for zebras can produce, the process can create harmful complications - the side effects of unneeded biopsies or even surgeries, excessive radiation exposure, and more.

I'm a skeptic about medical maximalism and the search for zebras. In the early 1970s, supervising psychiatry residents who had been inculcated in concept of the 50 minute hour, I sometimes had dialogues like the following with my supervisees:

Me: What kind of treatment do you want to prescribe for the patient we've been discussing?
Resident: Twice a week intensive psychotherapy.
Me: How long would each session be, and how long would you want the treatment to last?
Resident: This seems kind of silly, but let's say 50 minutes per session for three years.
Me: That would be approximately 270 50 minute sessions. Do you think we could attain the same outcome if each session was 48 minutes and we had 85 sessions per year instead of 90.
Resident: This really does seem silly. But if you insist on the question, I suppose we could attain the same outcome or close to it.
Me: So even before we look at the techniques psychoanalysts like Peter Sifneos have developed for briefer treatment, we've reduced the cost by 10% without meaningful loss of quality. Not bad!

In 1981 I felt I'd encountered kindred spirits, when Allen Frances, who I've posted about before, and John Clarkin wrote "No Treatment as the Prescription of Choice." They weren't nihilists about treatment, but they correctly noted that psychiatric consultants almost always recommended treatment for the folks they evaluated. Frances and Clarkin suggested a typology of patients who would do better without treatment - patients who were not likely to benefit and for whom treatment might inadvertently be harmful.

As a student, some of the old timers I learned from taught me about the curative impact of "tincture of time." Some conditions will get better on their own if the patient is approached in an optimistic spirit and is willing to allow some time to pass. In non-acute situations where it's not clear what is going on, applying "tincture of time" can be a good diagnostic and therapeutic approach.

Sometimes patients push for this kind of low-interventionist approach. Many years ago I saw a young man who had briefly been hospitalized for what looked like an episode of schizophrenia. I suggested that we start an antipsychotic medication. He objected. He was convinced that the episode came from a recreational drug he'd used. We agreed to follow him - initially weekly, but ultimately every month or two. As best we could tell over the course of two years, he was right. We were both happy. With another patient whose history convinced me that she had bipolar illness, she made a similar argument and refused medication. I told her that I wasn't a worrier, but I was worried about her. I hoped I was wrong and she was right. We followed her status and got to know each other. Unfortunately, as I'd feared, she was wrong - a recurrent episode convinced her of that. But it worked better that she was convinced by her own experience, not simply by yielding to medical authority.

Detsky and Verma come across as wise clinicians. I'm on board with their counsel. I hope others join in. The model they propose would promote a salutary change in US medical culture.