Editor's Note -
I'm posting the following two op-eds by Nicholas Kristof and Yuval Levin because I think they hit the nail on the head by describing what I consider to be one of the underlying pathologies afflicting our healthcare system. - inadequate access to care despite the fact that we are spending more than enough to provide it to everybody due to the role of a misplaced and destructive political ideology - unfettered markeets at any cost - a form of capitalism run amok.
That is is one more argument for getting rid of the estimated 30% of our healthcare spending that is wasted on unnecessary administrative complexity, exessively high prices for all healthcare goods and services, and unnecessary services for which there is inadequate medical justification. If we did that, we could easily afford to cover those Americans who are now left behind.
- SPC
Are My Friends’ Deaths Their Fault or Ours?
We need to move from pointing fingers to offering helping hands.
by Nicholas Kristof - NYT - January 18, 2020
When my wife and I wrote about my old schoolmates who had died from “deaths of despair,” the reaction was sometimes ugly.
“They killed themselves,” scoffed Jonathan from St. Louis, Mo., in the reader comments. “It was self-inflicted.”
Ajax in Georgia was even harsher: “Natural selection weeding out those less fit for survival.”
Our essay, drawn from our new book, “Tightrope,” explored the disintegration of America’s working class through the kids on my old No. 6 school bus in Yamhill, Ore., particularly my neighbors the Knapps. The five Knapp kids were smart and talented, but Farlan died after years of drug and alcohol abuse, Zealan died in a house fire while passed out drunk, Nathan blew himself up cooking meth, Rogena died of hepatitis after drug use, and Keylan survived partly because he had spent 13 years in the Oregon State Penitentiary.
Working-class men and women like them, of every shade, increasingly are dying of “deaths of despair” — from drugs, alcohol and suicide. That’s why life expectancy in the United States, for the first time in a century, has declined for three years in a row.
“They killed themselves,” scoffed Jonathan from St. Louis, Mo., in the reader comments. “It was self-inflicted.”
Ajax in Georgia was even harsher: “Natural selection weeding out those less fit for survival.”
Our essay, drawn from our new book, “Tightrope,” explored the disintegration of America’s working class through the kids on my old No. 6 school bus in Yamhill, Ore., particularly my neighbors the Knapps. The five Knapp kids were smart and talented, but Farlan died after years of drug and alcohol abuse, Zealan died in a house fire while passed out drunk, Nathan blew himself up cooking meth, Rogena died of hepatitis after drug use, and Keylan survived partly because he had spent 13 years in the Oregon State Penitentiary.
Working-class men and women like them, of every shade, increasingly are dying of “deaths of despair” — from drugs, alcohol and suicide. That’s why life expectancy in the United States, for the first time in a century, has declined for three years in a row.
Plenty of
readers responded with compassion. But there was a prickly scorn from
some that deserves a response because it reflects an ideology that
underlies so many failed policies. It arises from the myth that we live
in a land of limitless opportunity and that those who struggle have
simply made “bad choices” and failed to muster “personal
responsibility.” Dr. Ben Carson, who grew up poor and black in Detroit
and is now the nation’s housing secretary, has described poverty as
“more of a choice than anything else.”
This “personal responsibility” narrative animated some reader critics of the Knapps. “This article describes ruined, pitiful people,” one reader commented. “The main problem they have is weakness of character.”
This “personal responsibility” narrative animated some reader critics of the Knapps. “This article describes ruined, pitiful people,” one reader commented. “The main problem they have is weakness of character.”
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Over
the last half-century, this narrative has gained ground in America;
it’s an echo of the “social Darwinism” that circulated a century ago.
I’ve come to think that the biggest impediment to strengthening America
isn’t a shortage of resources but this personal responsibility
obsession.
When we underinvest in our own human capital, when so many Americans are only marginally literate or numerate or suffer from ill health or dependencies, then our entire country suffers. If America wants to compete with China, we should worry less about intellectual property protections and more about investing in the well-being of young Americans.
When we underinvest in our own human capital, when so many Americans are only marginally literate or numerate or suffer from ill health or dependencies, then our entire country suffers. If America wants to compete with China, we should worry less about intellectual property protections and more about investing in the well-being of young Americans.
Yet the personal responsibility
narrative leads states to refuse to expand Medicaid. It leads us to lock
up drug users instead of providing them help, even though each dollar
invested in treatment can save $12 or more in reduced criminal justice and health costs.
When we as a nation are willing to pay extra so that we can lock people up and rip apart their families, that’s gratuitous cruelty posturing as policy.
Of course personal responsibility matters. But imagine if we took the personal responsibility obsession to auto safety. That would look something like this:
Auto crashes often are a result of speeding, drinking or texting. If we coddle drivers with airbags and padded dashboards, and have ambulances ready to rescue them, they’ll never learn to drive responsibly. Better to implant spikes in dashboards so they appreciate consequences!
A newborn in a ZIP code of North Philadelphia with a largely poor and black population has a life expectancy 20 years shorter than a newborn in mostly white central Philadelphia just four miles away; that’s not because one infant has displayed “weak character.”
Britain reduced child poverty by half under Tony Blair. It’s not that British infants suddenly showed more personal responsibility; it’s that the government showed responsibility. Here in the United States, the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering and Medicine laid out a blueprint for reducing America’s child poverty by half, yet Congress and President Trump do nothing.
In that sense, Dr. Carson is right: Poverty is a choice. But it’s our choice.
My friends the Knapps made mistakes. Of course they did. But they weren’t less responsible, less talented or less hard-working than their parents or grandparents who had thrived in the postwar era.
What changed was diminishing access to good jobs, reduced commitment to investment in human capital, a hurricane of addictive drugs (some peddled by the pharmaceutical industry), and the rise of a harsh social narrative that vilified those left behind — a narrative that workers often internalized. Workers lost their dignity and hope, and that exacerbated the spiral of self-medication and self-destruction, of loneliness and despair that swept through my No. 6 bus.
When we as a nation are willing to pay extra so that we can lock people up and rip apart their families, that’s gratuitous cruelty posturing as policy.
Of course personal responsibility matters. But imagine if we took the personal responsibility obsession to auto safety. That would look something like this:
Auto crashes often are a result of speeding, drinking or texting. If we coddle drivers with airbags and padded dashboards, and have ambulances ready to rescue them, they’ll never learn to drive responsibly. Better to implant spikes in dashboards so they appreciate consequences!
A newborn in a ZIP code of North Philadelphia with a largely poor and black population has a life expectancy 20 years shorter than a newborn in mostly white central Philadelphia just four miles away; that’s not because one infant has displayed “weak character.”
Britain reduced child poverty by half under Tony Blair. It’s not that British infants suddenly showed more personal responsibility; it’s that the government showed responsibility. Here in the United States, the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering and Medicine laid out a blueprint for reducing America’s child poverty by half, yet Congress and President Trump do nothing.
In that sense, Dr. Carson is right: Poverty is a choice. But it’s our choice.
My friends the Knapps made mistakes. Of course they did. But they weren’t less responsible, less talented or less hard-working than their parents or grandparents who had thrived in the postwar era.
What changed was diminishing access to good jobs, reduced commitment to investment in human capital, a hurricane of addictive drugs (some peddled by the pharmaceutical industry), and the rise of a harsh social narrative that vilified those left behind — a narrative that workers often internalized. Workers lost their dignity and hope, and that exacerbated the spiral of self-medication and self-destruction, of loneliness and despair that swept through my No. 6 bus.
We
moved from an inclusive capitalism in the postwar era to a rigged system
that hobbles unions, underinvests in children and then punishes those
left behind. This is the moral equivalent of spikes on dashboards.
What would a better social narrative look like? It would acknowledge personal responsibility but also our collective social responsibility — especially to help children. It would be infused with empathy and a “morality of grace” that is less about pointing fingers and more about offering helping hands. It would accept that a country cannot reach its potential when so many of its citizens are not achieving theirs.
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/18/opinion/sunday/deaths-despair-personal-responsibility.html?
All
of us have roles to play in some institutions we care about, be they
familial or communal, educational or professional, civic, political,
cultural or economic. Rebuilding trust in those institutions will
require the people within them — that is, each of us — to be more
trustworthy. And that must mean in part letting the distinct integrities
and purposes of these institutions shape us, rather than just using
them as stages from which to be seen and heard.
As a practical matter, this can mean forcing ourselves, in little moments of decision, to ask the great unasked question of our time: “Given my role here, how should I behave?” That’s what people who take an institution they’re involved with seriously would ask. “As a president or a member of Congress, a teacher or a scientist, a lawyer or a doctor, a pastor or a member, a parent or a neighbor, what should I do here?”
The people you most respect these days probably seem to ask that kind of question before they make important judgments. And the people who drive you crazy, who you think are part of the problem, are likely those who clearly fail to ask it when they should.
Asking such questions of ourselves would be a first step toward grasping our responsibilities, recovering the great diversity of interlocking purposes that our institutions ought to serve, and constraining elites and people in power so that the larger society can better trust them. It would not be a substitute for institutional reforms but a prerequisite for them.
And asking such questions is one thing we all can do to take on the complicated social crisis we are living through and begin to rebuild the bonds of trust essential for a free society.
Yuval Levin, a scholar at the American Enterprise Institute and the editor of National Affairs and, is the author of the forthcoming “A Time to Build: From Family and Community to Congress and the Campus, How Recommitting to Our Institutions Can Revive the American Dream.”
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/18/opinion/sunday/institutions-trust.html
What would a better social narrative look like? It would acknowledge personal responsibility but also our collective social responsibility — especially to help children. It would be infused with empathy and a “morality of grace” that is less about pointing fingers and more about offering helping hands. It would accept that a country cannot reach its potential when so many of its citizens are not achieving theirs.
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/18/opinion/sunday/deaths-despair-personal-responsibility.html?
How Did Americans Lose Faith in Everything?
Our institutions lost the capacity to mold character and have become platforms for performance instead.
by Yuval Levin - NYT - January 18, 2020
Americans are living through a social crisis. We can see
that in everything from vicious partisan polarization to rampant
culture-war resentments to the isolation, alienation and despair that
have sent suicide rates climbing and driven an epidemic of opioid abuse.
These dysfunctions appear to have common roots, but one symptom of the
crisis is that we can’t quite seem to get a handle on just where those
roots lie.
When we think about our problems, we tend to imagine our society as a vast open space filled with individuals who are having trouble linking hands. And so we talk about breaking down walls, building bridges, leveling playing fields or casting unifying narratives.
But what we are missing is not simply greater connectedness but a structure of social life: a way to give shape, purpose, concrete meaning and identity to the things we do together. If American life is a big open space, it is not a space filled with individuals. It is a space filled with these structures of social life — with institutions. And if we are too often failing to foster belonging, legitimacy and trust, what we are confronting is a failure of institutions.
This social crisis has followed upon a collapse of our confidence in institutions — public, private, civic and political. But we have not given enough thought to just what that loss of confidence entails and why it’s happening.
When we think about our problems, we tend to imagine our society as a vast open space filled with individuals who are having trouble linking hands. And so we talk about breaking down walls, building bridges, leveling playing fields or casting unifying narratives.
But what we are missing is not simply greater connectedness but a structure of social life: a way to give shape, purpose, concrete meaning and identity to the things we do together. If American life is a big open space, it is not a space filled with individuals. It is a space filled with these structures of social life — with institutions. And if we are too often failing to foster belonging, legitimacy and trust, what we are confronting is a failure of institutions.
This social crisis has followed upon a collapse of our confidence in institutions — public, private, civic and political. But we have not given enough thought to just what that loss of confidence entails and why it’s happening.
Each
core institution performs an important task — educating children,
enforcing the law, serving the poor, providing some service, meeting
some need. And it does that by establishing a structure and process, a
form, for combining people’s efforts toward accomplishing that task.
But as it does so, each institution also forms the people within it to carry out that task responsibly and reliably. It shapes behavior and character, fostering an ethic built around some idea of integrity. That’s why we trust the institution and the people who compose it.
We trust political institutions when they undertake a solemn obligation to the public interest and shape the people who populate them to do the same. We trust a business because it promises quality and reliability and rewards its workers when they deliver those. We trust a profession because it imposes standards and rules on its members intended to make them worthy of confidence. We trust the military because it values courage, honor and duty in carrying out the defense of the nation and forms human beings who do, too.
We lose faith in an institution when we no longer believe that it plays this ethical or formative role of teaching the people within it to be trustworthy. This can happen through simple corruption, when an institution’s attempts to be formative fail to overcome the vices of the people within it, and it instead masks their treachery — as when a bank cheats its customers, or a member of the clergy abuses a child.
That kind of gross abuse of power obviously undermines public trust in institutions. It is common in our time as in every time. But for that very reason, it doesn’t really explain the exceptional collapse of trust in American institutions in recent decades.
But as it does so, each institution also forms the people within it to carry out that task responsibly and reliably. It shapes behavior and character, fostering an ethic built around some idea of integrity. That’s why we trust the institution and the people who compose it.
We trust political institutions when they undertake a solemn obligation to the public interest and shape the people who populate them to do the same. We trust a business because it promises quality and reliability and rewards its workers when they deliver those. We trust a profession because it imposes standards and rules on its members intended to make them worthy of confidence. We trust the military because it values courage, honor and duty in carrying out the defense of the nation and forms human beings who do, too.
We lose faith in an institution when we no longer believe that it plays this ethical or formative role of teaching the people within it to be trustworthy. This can happen through simple corruption, when an institution’s attempts to be formative fail to overcome the vices of the people within it, and it instead masks their treachery — as when a bank cheats its customers, or a member of the clergy abuses a child.
That kind of gross abuse of power obviously undermines public trust in institutions. It is common in our time as in every time. But for that very reason, it doesn’t really explain the exceptional collapse of trust in American institutions in recent decades.
What stands out about our
era in particular is a distinct kind of institutional dereliction — a
failure even to attempt to form trustworthy people, and a tendency to
think of institutions not as molds of character and behavior but as
platforms for performance and prominence.
In one arena after another, we find people who should be insiders formed by institutions acting like outsiders performing on institutions. Many members of Congress now use their positions not to advance legislation but to express and act out the frustrations of their core constituencies. Rather than work through the institution, they use it as a stage to elevate themselves, raise their profiles and perform for the cameras in the reality show of our unceasing culture war.
President Trump clearly does the same thing. Rather than embodying the presidency and acting from within it, he sees it as the latest, highest stage for his lifelong one-man show. And he frequently uses it as he used some of the stages he commanded before he was elected: to complain about the government, as if he were not its chief executive.
The pattern is rampant in the professional world. Check in on Twitter right now, and you’ll find countless journalists, for instance, leveraging the hard-earned reputations of the institutions they work for to build their personal brands outside of those institutions’ structures of editing and verification — leaving the public unsure of just why professional reporters should be trusted. The same too often happens in the sciences, in law and in other professions meant to offer expertise.
Or consider the academy, which is valued for its emphasis on the pursuit of truth through learning and teaching but which now too often serves as a stage for political morality plays enacted precisely by abjuring both. Look at many prominent establishments of American religion and you’ll find institutions intended to change hearts and save souls frequently used instead as yet more stages for livid political theater — not so much forming those within as giving them an outlet.
Artists and athletes often behave this way too, using reputations earned within institutional frameworks as platforms for building a profile outside them. When he was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame, the former Chicago Cubs second baseman Ryne Sandberg implored fellow players to remember “that learning how to bunt and hit-and-run and turning two is more important than knowing where to find the little red light on the dugout camera.” When vital institutions across American life fail to produce people who remember that, they become much harder to trust.
The few exceptions to the pattern of declining confidence in institutions tend to prove this rule. The military is the most conspicuous exception and also the most unabashedly formative of our national institutions — molding men and women who clearly take a standard of behavior and responsibility seriously. And that can help us see what we might do to help alleviate the social crisis we confront.
In one arena after another, we find people who should be insiders formed by institutions acting like outsiders performing on institutions. Many members of Congress now use their positions not to advance legislation but to express and act out the frustrations of their core constituencies. Rather than work through the institution, they use it as a stage to elevate themselves, raise their profiles and perform for the cameras in the reality show of our unceasing culture war.
President Trump clearly does the same thing. Rather than embodying the presidency and acting from within it, he sees it as the latest, highest stage for his lifelong one-man show. And he frequently uses it as he used some of the stages he commanded before he was elected: to complain about the government, as if he were not its chief executive.
The pattern is rampant in the professional world. Check in on Twitter right now, and you’ll find countless journalists, for instance, leveraging the hard-earned reputations of the institutions they work for to build their personal brands outside of those institutions’ structures of editing and verification — leaving the public unsure of just why professional reporters should be trusted. The same too often happens in the sciences, in law and in other professions meant to offer expertise.
Or consider the academy, which is valued for its emphasis on the pursuit of truth through learning and teaching but which now too often serves as a stage for political morality plays enacted precisely by abjuring both. Look at many prominent establishments of American religion and you’ll find institutions intended to change hearts and save souls frequently used instead as yet more stages for livid political theater — not so much forming those within as giving them an outlet.
Artists and athletes often behave this way too, using reputations earned within institutional frameworks as platforms for building a profile outside them. When he was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame, the former Chicago Cubs second baseman Ryne Sandberg implored fellow players to remember “that learning how to bunt and hit-and-run and turning two is more important than knowing where to find the little red light on the dugout camera.” When vital institutions across American life fail to produce people who remember that, they become much harder to trust.
The few exceptions to the pattern of declining confidence in institutions tend to prove this rule. The military is the most conspicuous exception and also the most unabashedly formative of our national institutions — molding men and women who clearly take a standard of behavior and responsibility seriously. And that can help us see what we might do to help alleviate the social crisis we confront.
As a practical matter, this can mean forcing ourselves, in little moments of decision, to ask the great unasked question of our time: “Given my role here, how should I behave?” That’s what people who take an institution they’re involved with seriously would ask. “As a president or a member of Congress, a teacher or a scientist, a lawyer or a doctor, a pastor or a member, a parent or a neighbor, what should I do here?”
The people you most respect these days probably seem to ask that kind of question before they make important judgments. And the people who drive you crazy, who you think are part of the problem, are likely those who clearly fail to ask it when they should.
Asking such questions of ourselves would be a first step toward grasping our responsibilities, recovering the great diversity of interlocking purposes that our institutions ought to serve, and constraining elites and people in power so that the larger society can better trust them. It would not be a substitute for institutional reforms but a prerequisite for them.
And asking such questions is one thing we all can do to take on the complicated social crisis we are living through and begin to rebuild the bonds of trust essential for a free society.
Yuval Levin, a scholar at the American Enterprise Institute and the editor of National Affairs and, is the author of the forthcoming “A Time to Build: From Family and Community to Congress and the Campus, How Recommitting to Our Institutions Can Revive the American Dream.”
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/18/opinion/sunday/institutions-trust.html
We Deserve a Better Debate Over Medicare For All
by Sarah Jones - Intelligencer - January 17, 2020
In
each debate, the healthcare questions are mostly the same, and so, too,
are the candidates’ answers. Medicare for All is just so expensive: How
would [insert left-wing candidate here] pay for it?
Ah but look here, have you considered the fact that some unions oppose
it? That a lot of people say they like their private insurance? The
questions are no longer urgent. They are almost identical to each other,
debate after debate, and no longer uncover any new information. The
candidates who say they support Medicare for All have explained
repeatedly why they believe it makes fiscal sense, why voters might be
open to a future without insurance companies, have pointed out, even,
that many unions do support the legislation. Either voters accept their
answers about the popularity and technical feasibility of their proposal
or they don’t: there is nothing more to be revealed by this line of
questioning.
Pundit
fixation on these aspects of Medicare for All is predictable. They
follow a pattern set years ago, when elected Democrats and columnists
alike worried that the Affordable Care Act, a far less radical policy,
would bankrupt the nation and knock Obama’s party from power. Years
later, everyone still remembers their cues, with a new healthcare
proposal as the focus of the performance. The show goes on, and will
assault the sanity of all sensible observers until it makes itself
irrelevant. The performers may believe they are objective, pontificating
from on high like a class of priests. But they help drive public
opinion, and will continue to do so until the election finally happens.
Voters will either elect someone who supports M4A in spite of its
skeptics, or the skeptics will win, and so will a less ambitious vision
of progress.
Healthcare
reform deserves a more serious public conversation, and it’s possible
to start one without ignoring M4A at the debates. Nor should the press
abandon its responsibility to question such a radically transformative
policy proposal. All that’s needed is a simple redirection, a new line
of questioning that accurately grasps the real case for M4A.
The
nearly exclusive focus on government spending and on public opinion
misses the real rationale for the policy. M4A is a moral argument
disguised as a policy proposal. It takes stock of the American
healthcare system as it currently exists, and identifies it as a
logically and ethically bankrupt structure that exposes people to
unnecessary, life-shortening risks. In short, healthcare is a right – a
right the status quo violates, and which would be better protected by an
entirely different kind of system. So M4A proponents propose a new
system, which would cover every person to precisely the same degree, and
would in theory rescue them from medical bankruptcy and missing bill
payments and crowdfunding campaigns for their insulin pumps. And it
assigns to the U.S. government the responsibility of safeguarding the
right to healthcare from harm. The policy’s supporters have explained as
much, many times. They don’t have much choice: There isn’t a way to
explain the proposal, including its financial details, without making
certain claims about its moral superiority to both the status quo, and
to the alternatives others propose.
A
public option would require less government spending. According to most
polls, it is somewhat more popular; it would even be a dramatic
improvement on the system in place right now. But the public option
doesn’t fully address the serious moral crisis that M4A is designed to
solve. Individuals would still have to navigate a complicated,
frequently counter-intuitive system, in order to exercise the right the
public option theoretically expands. M4A, by contrast, argues that there
should be no obstacle between a person and the coverage they need. It
shifts the cost of healthcare from individuals and employers, where it
currently sits, to the government not only because this will save
consumers money, but because the policy’s advocates believe this is the
most ethical course of action available.
To
return briefly to the primary: Ask any candidate in the field if they
think Americans have a right to healthcare, and they’d almost certainly
agree. But journalists should know better than to take politicians at
their word. Instead of rehashing the same three or four criticisms of
M4A until we all go numb from the repetition, ponder instead the
implications of framing healthcare as an absolute right. If Joe Biden
and Pete Buttigieg really believe that right exists, why do both their
healthcare plans leave some Americans without coverage? Why is the
public option, which doesn’t automatically enroll people in coverage,
morally preferable to a universal alternative like M4A? If the only
arguments against M4A are that it’s popular, but not as popular as it
could be, and that implementing it would take a lot of work, is the
problem really the policy itself, or is it a lack of political will? Why
should voters settle for moderate versions of healthcare reform that
don’t scale to the crisis at hand? And how does it really benefit the
public to leave private insurance companies intact?
To
engage only with the practical considerations of the policy, and ignore
the moral claims that shape it, is to present a lopsided view of its
merits to the public. Nobody needs to see journalists re-enact
Philosophy 101 on stage with a horde of aspiring presidents; the
prospect is more unappealing than Tom Steyer’s tartan ties. But the
press can at least stop pretending that policy is an abstract puzzle.
All policy preferences have some moral weight attached to them. As
American lifespans drop, the media’s decision to ignore the full case
for M4A has a moral dimension too.
We Deserve a Better Debate Over Medicare For All
How the Health Insurance Industry (and I) Invented the ‘Choice’ Talking Point
It was always misleading. Now Democrats are repeating it.
By
There’s a dangerous talking point being repeated in the
Democratic primary for president that could affect the survival of
millions of people, and the finances of even more. This is partly my
fault.
When the candidates discuss health care, you’re bound to hear some of them talk about consumer “choice.” If the nation adopts systemic health reform, this idea goes, it would restrict the ability of Americans to choose their plans or doctors, or have a say in their care.
It’s a good little talking point, in that it makes the idea of changing the current system sound scary and limiting. The problem? It’s a P.R. concoction. And right now, somewhere in their plush corporate offices, some health care industry executives are probably beside themselves with glee, drinking a toast to their public relations triumph.
I should know: I was one of them.
To my everlasting regret, I played a hand in devising this deceptive talking point about choice when I worked in various communications roles for a leading health insurer between 1993 and 2008, ultimately serving as vice president for corporate communications. Now I want to come clean by explaining its origin story, and why it’s both factually inaccurate and a political ploy.
When the candidates discuss health care, you’re bound to hear some of them talk about consumer “choice.” If the nation adopts systemic health reform, this idea goes, it would restrict the ability of Americans to choose their plans or doctors, or have a say in their care.
It’s a good little talking point, in that it makes the idea of changing the current system sound scary and limiting. The problem? It’s a P.R. concoction. And right now, somewhere in their plush corporate offices, some health care industry executives are probably beside themselves with glee, drinking a toast to their public relations triumph.
I should know: I was one of them.
To my everlasting regret, I played a hand in devising this deceptive talking point about choice when I worked in various communications roles for a leading health insurer between 1993 and 2008, ultimately serving as vice president for corporate communications. Now I want to come clean by explaining its origin story, and why it’s both factually inaccurate and a political ploy.
Those
of us in the insurance industry constantly hustled to prevent
significant reforms because changes threatened to eat into our
companies’ enormous profits. We were told by our opinion research firms
and messaging consultants that when we promoted the purported benefits
of the status quo that we should talk about the concept of “choice”: It
polled well in focus groups of average Americans (and was encouraged by
the work of Frank Luntz, the P.R. guru who literally wrote the book on
how the Republican Party should communicate with Americans). As
instructed, I used the word “choice” frequently when drafting talking
points.
But those of us who held senior positions for the big insurers knew that one of the huge vulnerabilities of the system is its lack of choice. In the current system, Americans cannot, in fact, pick their own doctors, specialists or hospitals — at least, not without incurring huge “out of network” bills.
Not only does the current health care system deny you choice within the details of your plans, it also fails to provide many options for the plan itself. Most working Americans must select from a limited list made by their company’s chosen insurance provider (usually a high-deductible plan or a higher-deductible plan). What’s more, once that choice is made, there are many restrictions around keeping it. You can lose coverage if your company changes its plan, or if you change jobs, or if you turn 26 and leave your parents’ plan, among other scenarios.
This presented a real problem for us in the industry. Well aware that we were losing the “choice” argument, my industry colleagues spent millions on lobbying, advertising and spin doctors — all intended to muddy the issue so Americans might believe that reform would somehow provide “less choice.” Recently, the industry launched a campaign called “My Care, My Choice” aimed in part at convincing Americans that they have choice now — and that government reform would restrict their freedom. That group has been spending large sums on advertising in Iowa during this presidential race.
This isn’t the first time the industry has made “choice” a big talking point as it fights health reform. Soon after the Affordable Care Act was passed a decade ago, insurers formed the Choice and Competition Coalition and pushed states not to create insurance exchanges with better plans.
But those of us who held senior positions for the big insurers knew that one of the huge vulnerabilities of the system is its lack of choice. In the current system, Americans cannot, in fact, pick their own doctors, specialists or hospitals — at least, not without incurring huge “out of network” bills.
Not only does the current health care system deny you choice within the details of your plans, it also fails to provide many options for the plan itself. Most working Americans must select from a limited list made by their company’s chosen insurance provider (usually a high-deductible plan or a higher-deductible plan). What’s more, once that choice is made, there are many restrictions around keeping it. You can lose coverage if your company changes its plan, or if you change jobs, or if you turn 26 and leave your parents’ plan, among other scenarios.
This presented a real problem for us in the industry. Well aware that we were losing the “choice” argument, my industry colleagues spent millions on lobbying, advertising and spin doctors — all intended to muddy the issue so Americans might believe that reform would somehow provide “less choice.” Recently, the industry launched a campaign called “My Care, My Choice” aimed in part at convincing Americans that they have choice now — and that government reform would restrict their freedom. That group has been spending large sums on advertising in Iowa during this presidential race.
This isn’t the first time the industry has made “choice” a big talking point as it fights health reform. Soon after the Affordable Care Act was passed a decade ago, insurers formed the Choice and Competition Coalition and pushed states not to create insurance exchanges with better plans.
The truth, of course, is that Americans now have little “choice” when it comes to managing their health care. Most can’t choose their own plan or how long they retain it, or even use it to select the doctor or hospital they prefer. But some reforms being discussed this election, such as “Medicare for all,” would provide these basic freedoms to users. In other words, the proposed reforms offer more choice than the status quo, not less.
My advice to voters is that if politicians tell you they oppose reforming the health care system because they want to preserve your “choice” as a consumer, they don’t know what they’re talking about or they’re willfully ignoring the truth. Either way, the insurance industry is delighted.
I would know.
Wendell Potter, a former vice president for corporate communications at Cigna, is president of Business for Medicare for All and Medicare for All NOW!
https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3936036848977011940#editor/target=post;postID=766739002709193292
Overwhelmed by Medical Bills, and Finding Help on TikTok
In
a video last month, a North Carolina woman shared a tip about battling
“stupid charges.” Thousands responded — some in gratitude, others to
commiserate over the baffling costs of health care.
by Jacey Fortin - NYT - January 16, 2020
When
severe pain sent Eva Zavala to an emergency room last March, her
treatment involved an ultrasound and some blood work. Her visit left her
with a medical bill for more than a thousand dollars, after insurance.
It was an overwhelming cost for Ms. Zavala, 22, a medical assistant in Oregon. She had barely made a dent in the total amount she owed when, several months later, she came across a video on TikTok.
It was a one-minute clip of a woman she didn’t know, presenting a scenario that closely matched Ms. Zavala’s experience: “You go to the emergency room, you get a bill for a thousand dollars,” the woman, Shaunna Burns, said in the Dec. 3 post.
Ms. Burns, 40, of North Carolina, instructed her viewers to call the hospital and ask for “an itemized bill with every single charge,” explaining that the billing department might then remove absurd fees, like a $37 Band-Aid.
It was an overwhelming cost for Ms. Zavala, 22, a medical assistant in Oregon. She had barely made a dent in the total amount she owed when, several months later, she came across a video on TikTok.
It was a one-minute clip of a woman she didn’t know, presenting a scenario that closely matched Ms. Zavala’s experience: “You go to the emergency room, you get a bill for a thousand dollars,” the woman, Shaunna Burns, said in the Dec. 3 post.
Ms. Burns, 40, of North Carolina, instructed her viewers to call the hospital and ask for “an itemized bill with every single charge,” explaining that the billing department might then remove absurd fees, like a $37 Band-Aid.
“Any of those stupid charges, they’re going to take them right off,” Ms. Burns said in the video.
Ms. Zavala remembered that advice a few days later when she was going over her bills. She decided to give it a shot. “I thought, you know, what could I lose doing it?” she said. “And so I called and I let them know who I was, and I just asked for an itemized bill for that hospital visit.”
About two weeks later, her itemization came in the mail. She opened it and saw that her balance had been reduced to zero.
“I couldn’t believe it, that it was just gone,” she said.
It was unclear whether her phone call was the reason for the reduction. Ms. Zavala’s itemization showed that the hospital had applied “financial assistance” to her debt in September. But Ms. Zavala said she had never asked for assistance and didn’t know it had been applied, even though she had checked her balance in October.
The health care system that administers the hospital Ms. Zavala visited said in a statement that it offers flexible, generous financial assistance programs, and that people who apply for them are typically notified in writing within two weeks of the eligibility determination.
Ms. Zavala shared her experience in a tweet that racked up hundreds of comments, tens of thousands of shares and hundreds of thousands of likes. Many said that a call to the billing department — in some cases to ask for budget assistance — had worked for them or their friends.
Ms. Zavala remembered that advice a few days later when she was going over her bills. She decided to give it a shot. “I thought, you know, what could I lose doing it?” she said. “And so I called and I let them know who I was, and I just asked for an itemized bill for that hospital visit.”
About two weeks later, her itemization came in the mail. She opened it and saw that her balance had been reduced to zero.
“I couldn’t believe it, that it was just gone,” she said.
It was unclear whether her phone call was the reason for the reduction. Ms. Zavala’s itemization showed that the hospital had applied “financial assistance” to her debt in September. But Ms. Zavala said she had never asked for assistance and didn’t know it had been applied, even though she had checked her balance in October.
The health care system that administers the hospital Ms. Zavala visited said in a statement that it offers flexible, generous financial assistance programs, and that people who apply for them are typically notified in writing within two weeks of the eligibility determination.
Ms. Zavala shared her experience in a tweet that racked up hundreds of comments, tens of thousands of shares and hundreds of thousands of likes. Many said that a call to the billing department — in some cases to ask for budget assistance — had worked for them or their friends.
Ms. Burns’s advice reached the masses via a social media platform more commonly used to share goofy dance videos, funny skits and other works of art.
And something about her description of this particular tactic — a fix
that seemed simple but also sort of mysterious, like a magic trick —
seemed to hit a nerve.
In an interview, Ms. Burns said her Dec. 3 video was not planned. She had been sick in bed and was dealing with calls from debt collectors when she decided to share a tip in case others were dealing with similar situations.
“I thought, ‘What if people out there don’t know that they have the right to tell those people to screw off?’” she said.
In an interview, Ms. Burns said her Dec. 3 video was not planned. She had been sick in bed and was dealing with calls from debt collectors when she decided to share a tip in case others were dealing with similar situations.
“I thought, ‘What if people out there don’t know that they have the right to tell those people to screw off?’” she said.
In
the replies to her video on TikTok and Twitter, thousands of people
commiserated over how baffling the American health care system can be,
and how arbitrary the costs.
Asking for an itemized bill won’t always save patients money, since every case is different. But it’s worth trying, said Erin C. Fuse Brown, a health care expert and associate law professor at Georgia State University. It’s not only a way to expose frivolous charges; the process could also reveal human errors or open the door to negotiations.
“It’s a good place to start because it allows the patient to be able to see what they’re being charged for and then push back on particular items,” Professor Fuse Brown said.
Irene Flippo, an advocate for patients dealing with medical bills, said there was a widespread need for education about handling medical costs. “A lot of individuals have this fear about dealing with it: what things should they say and how they should address these issues,” she said.
Ms. Flippo shared several tips for people dealing with medical bills: Request a review of the level of care, along with an itemized bill. Look for errors or duplicate charges. Check resources that can help you compare prices. Appeal. Negotiate. Get an interest-free payment plan, but alert the hospital if you are at risk of missing a payment. See if you qualify for financial assistance. And if billing department workers are not helpful, email top executives at the hospital.
Asking for an itemized bill won’t always save patients money, since every case is different. But it’s worth trying, said Erin C. Fuse Brown, a health care expert and associate law professor at Georgia State University. It’s not only a way to expose frivolous charges; the process could also reveal human errors or open the door to negotiations.
“It’s a good place to start because it allows the patient to be able to see what they’re being charged for and then push back on particular items,” Professor Fuse Brown said.
Irene Flippo, an advocate for patients dealing with medical bills, said there was a widespread need for education about handling medical costs. “A lot of individuals have this fear about dealing with it: what things should they say and how they should address these issues,” she said.
Ms. Flippo shared several tips for people dealing with medical bills: Request a review of the level of care, along with an itemized bill. Look for errors or duplicate charges. Check resources that can help you compare prices. Appeal. Negotiate. Get an interest-free payment plan, but alert the hospital if you are at risk of missing a payment. See if you qualify for financial assistance. And if billing department workers are not helpful, email top executives at the hospital.
“TikTok,
I believe, is younger generations mostly,” Ms. Flippo added. “And so to
see the response this woman had gotten, it only reconfirmed to me
there’s definitely a lot of concern among that age group’s individuals
about their medical costs.”
Ms. Zavala said she
understood why people approached health care providers with a sense of
powerlessness. “Knowing that it’s so expensive to go, and the fact that
your insurance doesn’t cover everything, I think it stops a lot of
people from going and getting the care they need,” she said.
She added that she did not fault hospitals entirely for the high medical bills, noting that some of the problems begin with drug companies.
According to the American Hospital Association, in 2018, hospitals provided patients in need with over $41 billion in care for which no payment was received. “As a field, we will always continue to look for new and more effective ways to work with patients who need help understanding their bills or meeting their financial obligations for the care they receive,” the group said in a statement.
Ms. Burns said she learned her way around hospitals after years of caring for three daughters, one of whom was kidnapped for more than a year and now struggles with complex post-traumatic stress disorder.
She described herself as a pushy person — the kind who offers tips, assistance or coupons to strangers without being asked. Her TikTok videos are presented without frills or filters. Her delivery is no-nonsense and peppered with expletives. She often shares detailed journal entries or encouraging messages.
She is not the only one using TikTok to dispense advice. When she gets questions about credit, she sometimes refers them to Alisa Glutz, an Arizona mortgage professional who shares tips on her own TikTok profile. And there are several health care practitioners who share health and wellness tips on social media.
Ms. Burns acknowledged that some of the cost-cutting advice she has given — “Don’t take an ambulance unless you are legit dying!” — could become something of a liability if it did not work out. “I’m not out there as a medical professional,” she said.
She added that she did not fault hospitals entirely for the high medical bills, noting that some of the problems begin with drug companies.
According to the American Hospital Association, in 2018, hospitals provided patients in need with over $41 billion in care for which no payment was received. “As a field, we will always continue to look for new and more effective ways to work with patients who need help understanding their bills or meeting their financial obligations for the care they receive,” the group said in a statement.
Ms. Burns said she learned her way around hospitals after years of caring for three daughters, one of whom was kidnapped for more than a year and now struggles with complex post-traumatic stress disorder.
She described herself as a pushy person — the kind who offers tips, assistance or coupons to strangers without being asked. Her TikTok videos are presented without frills or filters. Her delivery is no-nonsense and peppered with expletives. She often shares detailed journal entries or encouraging messages.
She is not the only one using TikTok to dispense advice. When she gets questions about credit, she sometimes refers them to Alisa Glutz, an Arizona mortgage professional who shares tips on her own TikTok profile. And there are several health care practitioners who share health and wellness tips on social media.
Ms. Burns acknowledged that some of the cost-cutting advice she has given — “Don’t take an ambulance unless you are legit dying!” — could become something of a liability if it did not work out. “I’m not out there as a medical professional,” she said.
But she
added that people were still writing to her to ask questions about their
medical bills, and that she advised them whenever she could.
“You don’t have to be ashamed to be in debt,” she said. “And you have rights, and you can have confidence and stand up to these people.”
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/16/health/tik-tok-medical-bills.html?action=click&module=News&pgtype=Homepage
“You don’t have to be ashamed to be in debt,” she said. “And you have rights, and you can have confidence and stand up to these people.”
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/16/health/tik-tok-medical-bills.html?action=click&module=News&pgtype=Homepage
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