Opinion

Happy New Year, everyone. It’s hard to believe, but we are nearing the mid-point of our five-year term on the GI & Hepatology News (GIHN) board of editors. Our central goal over the past two-and-a-half years has been to curate thought-provoking content for GIHN that helps to inform clinical practice and keeps you up-to-date on emerging scientific innovations and policy changes impacting patients with digestive and liver diseases.

As we usher in 2024, we want to hear from you—our readers—to ensure we are appropriately tailoring our coverage to your needs. Your feedback is critical to ensuring the continued success of the newspaper as your go-to source for cutting edge news relevant to our field.

To start, we welcome your thoughts on the following questions:

• What do you want to see more of in the newspaper (e.g., a particular column, topic)?
• How can we continue to serve you best as a reader? 

Please email your feedback to us at GINews@gastro.org. Your input is greatly appreciated by both the board and our larger editorial team and will help inform future coverage.

In this month’s issue of GIHN, we update you on the proceedings of AGA’s 2023 Innovation Conference, highlight a new Clinical Practice Guideline focused on the role of biomarkers in Crohn’s disease management, and summarize key AGA journal content.

The AGA Government Affairs Committee also details 2024 updates to Medicare payment rules, including a new add-on code for complex care, increased facility payment for POEM procedures, and continuation of expanded telehealth coverage through the end of 2024.

GIHN associate editor Dr. Avi Ketwaroo introduces this month’s Perspectives column focused on the impact of substance use (specifically alcohol and marijuana) on liver transplant candidacy.

In our January Member Spotlight, we feature Dr. Sonali Paul, a hepatologist and co-founder of Rainbows in Gastro. She shares her passion for promoting health equity in sexual and gender minority populations.

We hope you enjoy this, and all the exciting content included in our January issue.

Megan A. Adams, MD, JD, MSc

Editor-in-Chief

Happy New Year, everyone. It’s hard to believe, but we are nearing the mid-point of our five-year term on the GI & Hepatology News (GIHN) board of editors. Our central goal over the past two-and-a-half years has been to curate thought-provoking content for GIHN that helps to inform clinical practice and keeps you up-to-date on emerging scientific innovations and policy changes impacting patients with digestive and liver diseases.

As we usher in 2024, we want to hear from you—our readers—to ensure we are appropriately tailoring our coverage to your needs. Your feedback is critical to ensuring the continued success of the newspaper as your go-to source for cutting edge news relevant to our field.

To start, we welcome your thoughts on the following questions:

• What do you want to see more of in the newspaper (e.g., a particular column, topic)?
• How can we continue to serve you best as a reader? 

Please email your feedback to us at GINews@gastro.org. Your input is greatly appreciated by both the board and our larger editorial team and will help inform future coverage.

In this month’s issue of GIHN, we update you on the proceedings of AGA’s 2023 Innovation Conference, highlight a new Clinical Practice Guideline focused on the role of biomarkers in Crohn’s disease management, and summarize key AGA journal content.

The AGA Government Affairs Committee also details 2024 updates to Medicare payment rules, including a new add-on code for complex care, increased facility payment for POEM procedures, and continuation of expanded telehealth coverage through the end of 2024.

GIHN associate editor Dr. Avi Ketwaroo introduces this month’s Perspectives column focused on the impact of substance use (specifically alcohol and marijuana) on liver transplant candidacy.

In our January Member Spotlight, we feature Dr. Sonali Paul, a hepatologist and co-founder of Rainbows in Gastro. She shares her passion for promoting health equity in sexual and gender minority populations.

We hope you enjoy this, and all the exciting content included in our January issue.

Megan A. Adams, MD, JD, MSc

Editor-in-Chief

Happy New Year, everyone. It’s hard to believe, but we are nearing the mid-point of our five-year term on the GI & Hepatology News (GIHN) board of editors. Our central goal over the past two-and-a-half years has been to curate thought-provoking content for GIHN that helps to inform clinical practice and keeps you up-to-date on emerging scientific innovations and policy changes impacting patients with digestive and liver diseases.

As we usher in 2024, we want to hear from you—our readers—to ensure we are appropriately tailoring our coverage to your needs. Your feedback is critical to ensuring the continued success of the newspaper as your go-to source for cutting edge news relevant to our field.

To start, we welcome your thoughts on the following questions:

• What do you want to see more of in the newspaper (e.g., a particular column, topic)?
• How can we continue to serve you best as a reader? 

Please email your feedback to us at GINews@gastro.org. Your input is greatly appreciated by both the board and our larger editorial team and will help inform future coverage.

In this month’s issue of GIHN, we update you on the proceedings of AGA’s 2023 Innovation Conference, highlight a new Clinical Practice Guideline focused on the role of biomarkers in Crohn’s disease management, and summarize key AGA journal content.

The AGA Government Affairs Committee also details 2024 updates to Medicare payment rules, including a new add-on code for complex care, increased facility payment for POEM procedures, and continuation of expanded telehealth coverage through the end of 2024.

GIHN associate editor Dr. Avi Ketwaroo introduces this month’s Perspectives column focused on the impact of substance use (specifically alcohol and marijuana) on liver transplant candidacy.

In our January Member Spotlight, we feature Dr. Sonali Paul, a hepatologist and co-founder of Rainbows in Gastro. She shares her passion for promoting health equity in sexual and gender minority populations.

We hope you enjoy this, and all the exciting content included in our January issue.

Megan A. Adams, MD, JD, MSc

Editor-in-Chief

Until relatively recently, becoming a physician was a process in which the student began as an apprentice to an already skilled clinician. Eventually, both university- and hospital-based schools became part of the process, but an apprenticeship component persisted. In 1910, with the release of the Flexner Report, medical education here in the United States was revolutionized with a shift toward a more academic and scientific model already in use in Europe. While the path to becoming a physician grew more rigorous and science based when the students moved from the classroom and laboratory to the clinic and bedside, the process necessarily returned to its old one-on-one mentor-learner roots.

The venerable maxim of “See one — Do one — Teach one” that dominated my residency may still occasionally be whispered in the quiet corners of teaching hospitals, but I suspect concerns about risk management have discouraged its frequent application in hands-on situations. The development of artificial intelligence–driven mannequins may have finally relegated this remnant of an old cowboy (and girl) procedure-acquisition strategy to the dusty closet of medical education history.

However, when it comes to non–procedure based learning in clinic and hospital settings, the process continues to be one in which the inexperienced are expected to learn by observing their more experienced (sometimes only slightly more experienced) mentors. There may be some mini “lectures” on the fly during rounds explaining the rationale behind what the learner is observing, but “teaching” is still dominated by “Watch this — Try it when it’s your turn — Then we’ll tell you how you did.”

A recent survey in the journal Hospital Pediatrics reviewed in AAP News suggests that there is a problem with feedback, the final step in this three-step process. The investigators surveyed 52 residents and 21 fellows using a scale developed for industrial applications and found that, with the exception of delivery, the fellows scored better than residents in the feedback process. In interviews with a small subgroup of eight residents, the researchers learned that the two consistent impediments to obtaining feedback were 1) that the hectic pace of patient care placed a limit on opportunities (not surprising) and 2) a culture emphasizing “a positive, nurturing environment may have led physicians to avoid giving constructive criticism because it might hurt resident’s feelings.”

I have a friend who has held human resource (HR) positions in two good-sized teaching hospital systems. He certainly agrees with the time limitations component. He has also been involved in several cases in which trainees have accused senior physicians of harassment and unprofessional behavior because learners took issue with the manner in which they had been given feedback on their performance. One wonders if the institution(s) surveyed in this recent study had already experienced similar cases of discontent and have reacted by being so polite that feedback now lacks a feel of authenticity. This was a very small study, and it is hard to know how applicable the findings would be in a national sample, but I suspect there are more than a few teaching institutions in which kid gloves have become fashionable attire.

As my friend pointed out to me, substantial “generational differences” exist in many work places. Different generations may hold competing value systems when it comes to how feedback should be, and should not be, delivered.

None of us were trained in how to deliver a performance evaluation and feedback regardless of whether it was with one or two rushed sentences on a sprint from room to room on morning rounds or a more relaxed sit-down at the end of a rotation. We tend to lean on our own experiences of receiving feedback from our parents, from coaches, and most often from the models we observed as we came up through the hierarchy of medical training.

Feedback is a tightrope we must all walk along, and we must be acutely aware of the background and expectations of the recipients of well-meaning constructive criticism. I found it refreshing to learn that at least one small population of the trainees may be willing, and even eager, to receive honest feedback even though it sometimes may come with a hard edge.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

Until relatively recently, becoming a physician was a process in which the student began as an apprentice to an already skilled clinician. Eventually, both university- and hospital-based schools became part of the process, but an apprenticeship component persisted. In 1910, with the release of the Flexner Report, medical education here in the United States was revolutionized with a shift toward a more academic and scientific model already in use in Europe. While the path to becoming a physician grew more rigorous and science based when the students moved from the classroom and laboratory to the clinic and bedside, the process necessarily returned to its old one-on-one mentor-learner roots.

The venerable maxim of “See one — Do one — Teach one” that dominated my residency may still occasionally be whispered in the quiet corners of teaching hospitals, but I suspect concerns about risk management have discouraged its frequent application in hands-on situations. The development of artificial intelligence–driven mannequins may have finally relegated this remnant of an old cowboy (and girl) procedure-acquisition strategy to the dusty closet of medical education history.

However, when it comes to non–procedure based learning in clinic and hospital settings, the process continues to be one in which the inexperienced are expected to learn by observing their more experienced (sometimes only slightly more experienced) mentors. There may be some mini “lectures” on the fly during rounds explaining the rationale behind what the learner is observing, but “teaching” is still dominated by “Watch this — Try it when it’s your turn — Then we’ll tell you how you did.”

A recent survey in the journal Hospital Pediatrics reviewed in AAP News suggests that there is a problem with feedback, the final step in this three-step process. The investigators surveyed 52 residents and 21 fellows using a scale developed for industrial applications and found that, with the exception of delivery, the fellows scored better than residents in the feedback process. In interviews with a small subgroup of eight residents, the researchers learned that the two consistent impediments to obtaining feedback were 1) that the hectic pace of patient care placed a limit on opportunities (not surprising) and 2) a culture emphasizing “a positive, nurturing environment may have led physicians to avoid giving constructive criticism because it might hurt resident’s feelings.”

I have a friend who has held human resource (HR) positions in two good-sized teaching hospital systems. He certainly agrees with the time limitations component. He has also been involved in several cases in which trainees have accused senior physicians of harassment and unprofessional behavior because learners took issue with the manner in which they had been given feedback on their performance. One wonders if the institution(s) surveyed in this recent study had already experienced similar cases of discontent and have reacted by being so polite that feedback now lacks a feel of authenticity. This was a very small study, and it is hard to know how applicable the findings would be in a national sample, but I suspect there are more than a few teaching institutions in which kid gloves have become fashionable attire.

As my friend pointed out to me, substantial “generational differences” exist in many work places. Different generations may hold competing value systems when it comes to how feedback should be, and should not be, delivered.

None of us were trained in how to deliver a performance evaluation and feedback regardless of whether it was with one or two rushed sentences on a sprint from room to room on morning rounds or a more relaxed sit-down at the end of a rotation. We tend to lean on our own experiences of receiving feedback from our parents, from coaches, and most often from the models we observed as we came up through the hierarchy of medical training.

Feedback is a tightrope we must all walk along, and we must be acutely aware of the background and expectations of the recipients of well-meaning constructive criticism. I found it refreshing to learn that at least one small population of the trainees may be willing, and even eager, to receive honest feedback even though it sometimes may come with a hard edge.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

Until relatively recently, becoming a physician was a process in which the student began as an apprentice to an already skilled clinician. Eventually, both university- and hospital-based schools became part of the process, but an apprenticeship component persisted. In 1910, with the release of the Flexner Report, medical education here in the United States was revolutionized with a shift toward a more academic and scientific model already in use in Europe. While the path to becoming a physician grew more rigorous and science based when the students moved from the classroom and laboratory to the clinic and bedside, the process necessarily returned to its old one-on-one mentor-learner roots.

The venerable maxim of “See one — Do one — Teach one” that dominated my residency may still occasionally be whispered in the quiet corners of teaching hospitals, but I suspect concerns about risk management have discouraged its frequent application in hands-on situations. The development of artificial intelligence–driven mannequins may have finally relegated this remnant of an old cowboy (and girl) procedure-acquisition strategy to the dusty closet of medical education history.

However, when it comes to non–procedure based learning in clinic and hospital settings, the process continues to be one in which the inexperienced are expected to learn by observing their more experienced (sometimes only slightly more experienced) mentors. There may be some mini “lectures” on the fly during rounds explaining the rationale behind what the learner is observing, but “teaching” is still dominated by “Watch this — Try it when it’s your turn — Then we’ll tell you how you did.”

A recent survey in the journal Hospital Pediatrics reviewed in AAP News suggests that there is a problem with feedback, the final step in this three-step process. The investigators surveyed 52 residents and 21 fellows using a scale developed for industrial applications and found that, with the exception of delivery, the fellows scored better than residents in the feedback process. In interviews with a small subgroup of eight residents, the researchers learned that the two consistent impediments to obtaining feedback were 1) that the hectic pace of patient care placed a limit on opportunities (not surprising) and 2) a culture emphasizing “a positive, nurturing environment may have led physicians to avoid giving constructive criticism because it might hurt resident’s feelings.”

I have a friend who has held human resource (HR) positions in two good-sized teaching hospital systems. He certainly agrees with the time limitations component. He has also been involved in several cases in which trainees have accused senior physicians of harassment and unprofessional behavior because learners took issue with the manner in which they had been given feedback on their performance. One wonders if the institution(s) surveyed in this recent study had already experienced similar cases of discontent and have reacted by being so polite that feedback now lacks a feel of authenticity. This was a very small study, and it is hard to know how applicable the findings would be in a national sample, but I suspect there are more than a few teaching institutions in which kid gloves have become fashionable attire.

As my friend pointed out to me, substantial “generational differences” exist in many work places. Different generations may hold competing value systems when it comes to how feedback should be, and should not be, delivered.

None of us were trained in how to deliver a performance evaluation and feedback regardless of whether it was with one or two rushed sentences on a sprint from room to room on morning rounds or a more relaxed sit-down at the end of a rotation. We tend to lean on our own experiences of receiving feedback from our parents, from coaches, and most often from the models we observed as we came up through the hierarchy of medical training.

Feedback is a tightrope we must all walk along, and we must be acutely aware of the background and expectations of the recipients of well-meaning constructive criticism. I found it refreshing to learn that at least one small population of the trainees may be willing, and even eager, to receive honest feedback even though it sometimes may come with a hard edge.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

A recent Reuters article reported that the manufacturer of the leading antiobesity medication semaglutide (Wegovy) “showers money on U.S. obesity doctors.”

Hello. I’d like to be showered.

According to the article, Novo Nordisk, Wegovy/Ozempic manufacturer, paid medical professionals $25.8 million in “fees and expenses” over a decade.

I think all doctors — who spend a decade of their life in training only to emerge with thousands of dollars in debt — would like to be similarly compensated for their expertise.

Yet, many of us forgo lucrative private practices or industry jobs to work at academic medical centers because we wish to pursue our original mission: To provide the best patient care possible.

Fulfilling this mission in today’s “sickcare” system means being more than a clinician. We become researchers, educators, advocates, mentors, consultants, and advisors. We do so because the system compels us to find other ways to provide quality health care, outside of clinic walls. These ways often include:

• Educating the public through media, social media, or community events.
• Training students, residents, and fellows on the latest medical knowledge.
• Advising industry innovators and entrepreneurs who seek our expertise.

Personally, I engaged in these activities because working 8-5 seeing 20 patients a day wasn’t enough. I wanted to help more people, more quickly. When I was faced with these opportunities, I was excited to say “yes” and never thought to ask for compensation because I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

Eventually, I learned to ask for compensation.

And then I learned to decide my value.

The Reuters article reports that obesity medicine experts Drs. Lee Kaplan, Donna Ryan, Ania Jastreboff, and Jamy Ard were paid thousands of dollars in consulting fees over a decade. This industry-to-physician relationship should be celebrated because:

• Industries should consult experts in the field.
• These leaders have dedicated decades of their lives to understanding and solving the obesity epidemic.
• This collaboration has resulted in a therapeutic option that is changing lives. 

If there is anything to criticize, it should be:

• The expectation that medical expertise should be free.Wegovy’s manufacturer is worth $403 billion, and the experts are valued at less than 0.1% of that figure.
• The lack of context.
• Some celebrity doctors can earn $300,000 in just one consult. Other medical or surgical specialties are valued at 100 times more than obesity specialists. 
• The false dichotomy.
• Just because money is involved, it doesn’t mean the product is invalid.

Industry and physician relationships have long been examined. Such financial relationships are always disclosed (eg, at conferences, in publications). The Sunshine Act of 2010 and Open Payments provide the necessary transparency for people to decide for themselves whether there were financial incentives or potential conflicts of interest.

We should also take it a step further and ask ourselves: Do conflicts of interest require us to dismiss the end result? In other words, just because the pharmaceutical industry pays these doctors for their time and expertise, does that mean their life’s work is wrong, or that the drug isn’t effective?

In the case of obesity, Wegovy speaks for itself. Remember that the manufacturer stopped advertising. When a disease finally has a treatment, it does not need promoters or salespersons. Just speak to any person with obesity.

Ultimately, I see three main takeaways from Reuters’ reporting:

• The weight loss industry needs more obesity medicine experts. 
• We should value ourselves more.
• When people with resources work with people who have the commitment, knowledge, and experience, we can find a solution that saves lives. 

Dr. Tchang received $5525 in 2022 in consulting fees from Novo Nordisk. She plans to ask for more. She also disclosed ties with Gelesis.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

A recent Reuters article reported that the manufacturer of the leading antiobesity medication semaglutide (Wegovy) “showers money on U.S. obesity doctors.”

Hello. I’d like to be showered.

According to the article, Novo Nordisk, Wegovy/Ozempic manufacturer, paid medical professionals $25.8 million in “fees and expenses” over a decade.

I think all doctors — who spend a decade of their life in training only to emerge with thousands of dollars in debt — would like to be similarly compensated for their expertise.

Yet, many of us forgo lucrative private practices or industry jobs to work at academic medical centers because we wish to pursue our original mission: To provide the best patient care possible.

Fulfilling this mission in today’s “sickcare” system means being more than a clinician. We become researchers, educators, advocates, mentors, consultants, and advisors. We do so because the system compels us to find other ways to provide quality health care, outside of clinic walls. These ways often include:

• Educating the public through media, social media, or community events.
• Training students, residents, and fellows on the latest medical knowledge.
• Advising industry innovators and entrepreneurs who seek our expertise.

Personally, I engaged in these activities because working 8-5 seeing 20 patients a day wasn’t enough. I wanted to help more people, more quickly. When I was faced with these opportunities, I was excited to say “yes” and never thought to ask for compensation because I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

Eventually, I learned to ask for compensation.

And then I learned to decide my value.

The Reuters article reports that obesity medicine experts Drs. Lee Kaplan, Donna Ryan, Ania Jastreboff, and Jamy Ard were paid thousands of dollars in consulting fees over a decade. This industry-to-physician relationship should be celebrated because:

• Industries should consult experts in the field.
• These leaders have dedicated decades of their lives to understanding and solving the obesity epidemic.
• This collaboration has resulted in a therapeutic option that is changing lives. 

If there is anything to criticize, it should be:

• The expectation that medical expertise should be free.Wegovy’s manufacturer is worth $403 billion, and the experts are valued at less than 0.1% of that figure.
• The lack of context.
• Some celebrity doctors can earn $300,000 in just one consult. Other medical or surgical specialties are valued at 100 times more than obesity specialists. 
• The false dichotomy.
• Just because money is involved, it doesn’t mean the product is invalid.

Industry and physician relationships have long been examined. Such financial relationships are always disclosed (eg, at conferences, in publications). The Sunshine Act of 2010 and Open Payments provide the necessary transparency for people to decide for themselves whether there were financial incentives or potential conflicts of interest.

We should also take it a step further and ask ourselves: Do conflicts of interest require us to dismiss the end result? In other words, just because the pharmaceutical industry pays these doctors for their time and expertise, does that mean their life’s work is wrong, or that the drug isn’t effective?

In the case of obesity, Wegovy speaks for itself. Remember that the manufacturer stopped advertising. When a disease finally has a treatment, it does not need promoters or salespersons. Just speak to any person with obesity.

Ultimately, I see three main takeaways from Reuters’ reporting:

• The weight loss industry needs more obesity medicine experts. 
• We should value ourselves more.
• When people with resources work with people who have the commitment, knowledge, and experience, we can find a solution that saves lives. 

Dr. Tchang received $5525 in 2022 in consulting fees from Novo Nordisk. She plans to ask for more. She also disclosed ties with Gelesis.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

A recent Reuters article reported that the manufacturer of the leading antiobesity medication semaglutide (Wegovy) “showers money on U.S. obesity doctors.”

Hello. I’d like to be showered.

According to the article, Novo Nordisk, Wegovy/Ozempic manufacturer, paid medical professionals $25.8 million in “fees and expenses” over a decade.

I think all doctors — who spend a decade of their life in training only to emerge with thousands of dollars in debt — would like to be similarly compensated for their expertise.

Yet, many of us forgo lucrative private practices or industry jobs to work at academic medical centers because we wish to pursue our original mission: To provide the best patient care possible.

Fulfilling this mission in today’s “sickcare” system means being more than a clinician. We become researchers, educators, advocates, mentors, consultants, and advisors. We do so because the system compels us to find other ways to provide quality health care, outside of clinic walls. These ways often include:

• Educating the public through media, social media, or community events.
• Training students, residents, and fellows on the latest medical knowledge.
• Advising industry innovators and entrepreneurs who seek our expertise.

Personally, I engaged in these activities because working 8-5 seeing 20 patients a day wasn’t enough. I wanted to help more people, more quickly. When I was faced with these opportunities, I was excited to say “yes” and never thought to ask for compensation because I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

Eventually, I learned to ask for compensation.

And then I learned to decide my value.

The Reuters article reports that obesity medicine experts Drs. Lee Kaplan, Donna Ryan, Ania Jastreboff, and Jamy Ard were paid thousands of dollars in consulting fees over a decade. This industry-to-physician relationship should be celebrated because:

• Industries should consult experts in the field.
• These leaders have dedicated decades of their lives to understanding and solving the obesity epidemic.
• This collaboration has resulted in a therapeutic option that is changing lives. 

If there is anything to criticize, it should be:

• The expectation that medical expertise should be free.Wegovy’s manufacturer is worth $403 billion, and the experts are valued at less than 0.1% of that figure.
• The lack of context.
• Some celebrity doctors can earn $300,000 in just one consult. Other medical or surgical specialties are valued at 100 times more than obesity specialists. 
• The false dichotomy.
• Just because money is involved, it doesn’t mean the product is invalid.

Industry and physician relationships have long been examined. Such financial relationships are always disclosed (eg, at conferences, in publications). The Sunshine Act of 2010 and Open Payments provide the necessary transparency for people to decide for themselves whether there were financial incentives or potential conflicts of interest.

We should also take it a step further and ask ourselves: Do conflicts of interest require us to dismiss the end result? In other words, just because the pharmaceutical industry pays these doctors for their time and expertise, does that mean their life’s work is wrong, or that the drug isn’t effective?

In the case of obesity, Wegovy speaks for itself. Remember that the manufacturer stopped advertising. When a disease finally has a treatment, it does not need promoters or salespersons. Just speak to any person with obesity.

Ultimately, I see three main takeaways from Reuters’ reporting:

• The weight loss industry needs more obesity medicine experts. 
• We should value ourselves more.
• When people with resources work with people who have the commitment, knowledge, and experience, we can find a solution that saves lives. 

Dr. Tchang received $5525 in 2022 in consulting fees from Novo Nordisk. She plans to ask for more. She also disclosed ties with Gelesis.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) is first-line therapy for sleep-related breathing disorders (SRBDs). Obstructive sleep apnea (OSA) is the major player in the SRBDs space, with a prevalence approaching 100% in adult men using current diagnostic criteria. Patients with OSA and comorbid cardiovascular disease (CVD) are diagnosed with OSA syndrome, and CPAP is prescribed. Primary care physicians and cardiologists are quick to refer patients with CVD to sleep docs to see whether CPAP can improve CVD-related outcomes.

What the Studies Show

There’s a problem though. CPAP doesn’t seem to improve CVD-related outcomes. In some cases, it’s even harmful. Let’s do a quick review. In 2005, the CANPAP study found CPAP didn’t improve a composite CVD outcome that included mortality. A post hoc analysis found that it actually increased mortality if central apneas weren’t eliminated. The post hoc analysis also found benefit when central apneas were eliminated, but for all-comers, CPAP didn’t improve outcomes. Strike one.

Enter adaptive servo-ventilation (ASV). If CANPAP showed that success depended on eliminating central apneas, why not use ASV for all patients with CVD and central apneas or Cheyne-Stokes respirations? ASV eliminates central apneas and Cheyne-Stokes. Well, that didn’t work either. The randomized, controlled SERVE-HF trial, published in 2015, showed that ASV increases all-cause and CVD-specific mortality. Oops. That’s two trials showing that CPAP and ASV can increase mortality in patients with heart failure. Strike two.

Alright. But that’s heart failure. What about hypertension or coronary artery disease (CAD)? Shouldn’t such patients be treated with CPAP to reduce CVD risk? After all, there’s all those surrogate outcomes data for CPAP — it improves vascular tone and lowers catecholamines and all that stuff. Doesn’t it lower blood pressure too? Surely CPAP benefits patients with CVD who don’t have heart failure, right?

Not really. The RICCADSA study, published in 2016, found that CPAP didn’t reduce a composite of CVD outcomes in patients with newly revascularized CAD. The SAVE trial published the same year had a similar design with similar results. CPAP did not improve CVD-related outcomes. Most recently, the ISAACC study was negative. That’s three negative randomized controlled trials in less than 5 years showing CPAP doesn’t affect CVD-related outcomes in high-risk populations with known disease. Strike three?

CPAP provides no benefit for CVD and possible harm when treating heart failure. Surely CPAP is useful for patients with hypertension. Let’s see. The American Academy of Sleep Medicine (AASM) conducted meta-analyses for the guideline it produced recommending CPAP for patients with comorbid hypertension. They note that 24-hour blood pressure measurements are best correlated with outcomes. CPAP did lead to significant 24-hour blood pressure reduction, but guess how large it was? For systolic blood pressure, it was 1.5 mm Hg; for diastolic pressure, it was 1.6 mm Hg. That’s it.

How did the AASM summarize and interpret the above data in their 2019 guidelines for prescribing CPAP? Although covered in their detailed review, both heart failure and CVD are left out of their primary recommendations . They do provide a conditional recommendation for prescribing CPAP to patients with comorbid hypertension that states, “The majority of well-informed patients would choose the intervention over no treatment.” Really? If you were told that CPAP provides less reduction in blood pressure than dietary changes and/or medications, would you choose to wear it or take a pill once a day? Remember, you have to take the pill anyway to get your blood pressure to target unless your pressure is only 1.5-1.6 mm Hg above normal. Where does one find patients who are anxious to wear a mask to bed for minimal benefit and a 20% copay? I’ve yet to meet one.

As always, the pressure pushers are undeterred by inconvenient evidence. A secondary analysis of adherent patients in RICCADSA resorts to the “bait and switch” that’s propped up CPAP enthusiasts for decades: Compare adherent patients versus those who are not (or those who refuse treatment) to prove benefit. The flaws to this approach are obvious. First, performing a post hoc analysis that reintroduces all of the confounding that plagues existing CPAP data negates the benefits of randomization, fancy statistics notwithstanding. Second, it belies the reality that in well-controlled, well-conducted randomized trials where patients get far more support than those in the community (and sometimes are preselected for adherence), a majority simply won’t use CPAP . Excluding the nonadherent or comparing them with the adherent is the epitome of selection bias.

The editorial accompanying the ISAACC study is a tour de force in CPAP apologies. The apnea-hypopnea index (AHI) isn’t the right metric — this one’s invoked often. Never mind that the very premise that OSA causes CVD is from observational data based on the AHI. If you abandon the AHI, don’t you lose your justification for prospective trials targeting CVD with CPAP?

Even better, in an argument fit for a Twitter ban, the author suggests that patients in ISAACC, SAVE, and RICCADSA couldn’t benefit because they already have CVD. The very concept, refuted by decades of secondary prevention research in cardiology, implies that CPAP should be used for primary prevention. Only a sleep researcher could spin a negative study into an expansion of CPAP indications. Others in the AASM have made similar proposals.

Final Thoughts

The sleep field lacks unblinded realists capable of choosing wisely. A little therapeutic underconfidence is warranted. Diseases and therapies will always have champions. Prudence and restraint? Not so much. The AASM could summarize the CPAP literature in a single recommendation: “If your patient is sleepy, CPAP might help them feel better if their disease is moderate or severe.” All other indications are soft.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Aaron B. Holley, MD, is a professor of medicine at Uniformed Services University in Bethesda, Maryland, and a pulmonary/sleep and critical care medicine physician at MedStar Washington Hospital Center in Washington, DC. He covers a  wide range of topics in pulmonary, critical care, and sleep medicine .

Continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) is first-line therapy for sleep-related breathing disorders (SRBDs). Obstructive sleep apnea (OSA) is the major player in the SRBDs space, with a prevalence approaching 100% in adult men using current diagnostic criteria. Patients with OSA and comorbid cardiovascular disease (CVD) are diagnosed with OSA syndrome, and CPAP is prescribed. Primary care physicians and cardiologists are quick to refer patients with CVD to sleep docs to see whether CPAP can improve CVD-related outcomes.

What the Studies Show

There’s a problem though. CPAP doesn’t seem to improve CVD-related outcomes. In some cases, it’s even harmful. Let’s do a quick review. In 2005, the CANPAP study found CPAP didn’t improve a composite CVD outcome that included mortality. A post hoc analysis found that it actually increased mortality if central apneas weren’t eliminated. The post hoc analysis also found benefit when central apneas were eliminated, but for all-comers, CPAP didn’t improve outcomes. Strike one.

Enter adaptive servo-ventilation (ASV). If CANPAP showed that success depended on eliminating central apneas, why not use ASV for all patients with CVD and central apneas or Cheyne-Stokes respirations? ASV eliminates central apneas and Cheyne-Stokes. Well, that didn’t work either. The randomized, controlled SERVE-HF trial, published in 2015, showed that ASV increases all-cause and CVD-specific mortality. Oops. That’s two trials showing that CPAP and ASV can increase mortality in patients with heart failure. Strike two.

Alright. But that’s heart failure. What about hypertension or coronary artery disease (CAD)? Shouldn’t such patients be treated with CPAP to reduce CVD risk? After all, there’s all those surrogate outcomes data for CPAP — it improves vascular tone and lowers catecholamines and all that stuff. Doesn’t it lower blood pressure too? Surely CPAP benefits patients with CVD who don’t have heart failure, right?

Not really. The RICCADSA study, published in 2016, found that CPAP didn’t reduce a composite of CVD outcomes in patients with newly revascularized CAD. The SAVE trial published the same year had a similar design with similar results. CPAP did not improve CVD-related outcomes. Most recently, the ISAACC study was negative. That’s three negative randomized controlled trials in less than 5 years showing CPAP doesn’t affect CVD-related outcomes in high-risk populations with known disease. Strike three?

CPAP provides no benefit for CVD and possible harm when treating heart failure. Surely CPAP is useful for patients with hypertension. Let’s see. The American Academy of Sleep Medicine (AASM) conducted meta-analyses for the guideline it produced recommending CPAP for patients with comorbid hypertension. They note that 24-hour blood pressure measurements are best correlated with outcomes. CPAP did lead to significant 24-hour blood pressure reduction, but guess how large it was? For systolic blood pressure, it was 1.5 mm Hg; for diastolic pressure, it was 1.6 mm Hg. That’s it.

How did the AASM summarize and interpret the above data in their 2019 guidelines for prescribing CPAP? Although covered in their detailed review, both heart failure and CVD are left out of their primary recommendations . They do provide a conditional recommendation for prescribing CPAP to patients with comorbid hypertension that states, “The majority of well-informed patients would choose the intervention over no treatment.” Really? If you were told that CPAP provides less reduction in blood pressure than dietary changes and/or medications, would you choose to wear it or take a pill once a day? Remember, you have to take the pill anyway to get your blood pressure to target unless your pressure is only 1.5-1.6 mm Hg above normal. Where does one find patients who are anxious to wear a mask to bed for minimal benefit and a 20% copay? I’ve yet to meet one.

As always, the pressure pushers are undeterred by inconvenient evidence. A secondary analysis of adherent patients in RICCADSA resorts to the “bait and switch” that’s propped up CPAP enthusiasts for decades: Compare adherent patients versus those who are not (or those who refuse treatment) to prove benefit. The flaws to this approach are obvious. First, performing a post hoc analysis that reintroduces all of the confounding that plagues existing CPAP data negates the benefits of randomization, fancy statistics notwithstanding. Second, it belies the reality that in well-controlled, well-conducted randomized trials where patients get far more support than those in the community (and sometimes are preselected for adherence), a majority simply won’t use CPAP . Excluding the nonadherent or comparing them with the adherent is the epitome of selection bias.

The editorial accompanying the ISAACC study is a tour de force in CPAP apologies. The apnea-hypopnea index (AHI) isn’t the right metric — this one’s invoked often. Never mind that the very premise that OSA causes CVD is from observational data based on the AHI. If you abandon the AHI, don’t you lose your justification for prospective trials targeting CVD with CPAP?

Even better, in an argument fit for a Twitter ban, the author suggests that patients in ISAACC, SAVE, and RICCADSA couldn’t benefit because they already have CVD. The very concept, refuted by decades of secondary prevention research in cardiology, implies that CPAP should be used for primary prevention. Only a sleep researcher could spin a negative study into an expansion of CPAP indications. Others in the AASM have made similar proposals.

Final Thoughts

The sleep field lacks unblinded realists capable of choosing wisely. A little therapeutic underconfidence is warranted. Diseases and therapies will always have champions. Prudence and restraint? Not so much. The AASM could summarize the CPAP literature in a single recommendation: “If your patient is sleepy, CPAP might help them feel better if their disease is moderate or severe.” All other indications are soft.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Aaron B. Holley, MD, is a professor of medicine at Uniformed Services University in Bethesda, Maryland, and a pulmonary/sleep and critical care medicine physician at MedStar Washington Hospital Center in Washington, DC. He covers a  wide range of topics in pulmonary, critical care, and sleep medicine .

Continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) is first-line therapy for sleep-related breathing disorders (SRBDs). Obstructive sleep apnea (OSA) is the major player in the SRBDs space, with a prevalence approaching 100% in adult men using current diagnostic criteria. Patients with OSA and comorbid cardiovascular disease (CVD) are diagnosed with OSA syndrome, and CPAP is prescribed. Primary care physicians and cardiologists are quick to refer patients with CVD to sleep docs to see whether CPAP can improve CVD-related outcomes.

What the Studies Show

There’s a problem though. CPAP doesn’t seem to improve CVD-related outcomes. In some cases, it’s even harmful. Let’s do a quick review. In 2005, the CANPAP study found CPAP didn’t improve a composite CVD outcome that included mortality. A post hoc analysis found that it actually increased mortality if central apneas weren’t eliminated. The post hoc analysis also found benefit when central apneas were eliminated, but for all-comers, CPAP didn’t improve outcomes. Strike one.

Enter adaptive servo-ventilation (ASV). If CANPAP showed that success depended on eliminating central apneas, why not use ASV for all patients with CVD and central apneas or Cheyne-Stokes respirations? ASV eliminates central apneas and Cheyne-Stokes. Well, that didn’t work either. The randomized, controlled SERVE-HF trial, published in 2015, showed that ASV increases all-cause and CVD-specific mortality. Oops. That’s two trials showing that CPAP and ASV can increase mortality in patients with heart failure. Strike two.

Alright. But that’s heart failure. What about hypertension or coronary artery disease (CAD)? Shouldn’t such patients be treated with CPAP to reduce CVD risk? After all, there’s all those surrogate outcomes data for CPAP — it improves vascular tone and lowers catecholamines and all that stuff. Doesn’t it lower blood pressure too? Surely CPAP benefits patients with CVD who don’t have heart failure, right?

Not really. The RICCADSA study, published in 2016, found that CPAP didn’t reduce a composite of CVD outcomes in patients with newly revascularized CAD. The SAVE trial published the same year had a similar design with similar results. CPAP did not improve CVD-related outcomes. Most recently, the ISAACC study was negative. That’s three negative randomized controlled trials in less than 5 years showing CPAP doesn’t affect CVD-related outcomes in high-risk populations with known disease. Strike three?

CPAP provides no benefit for CVD and possible harm when treating heart failure. Surely CPAP is useful for patients with hypertension. Let’s see. The American Academy of Sleep Medicine (AASM) conducted meta-analyses for the guideline it produced recommending CPAP for patients with comorbid hypertension. They note that 24-hour blood pressure measurements are best correlated with outcomes. CPAP did lead to significant 24-hour blood pressure reduction, but guess how large it was? For systolic blood pressure, it was 1.5 mm Hg; for diastolic pressure, it was 1.6 mm Hg. That’s it.

How did the AASM summarize and interpret the above data in their 2019 guidelines for prescribing CPAP? Although covered in their detailed review, both heart failure and CVD are left out of their primary recommendations . They do provide a conditional recommendation for prescribing CPAP to patients with comorbid hypertension that states, “The majority of well-informed patients would choose the intervention over no treatment.” Really? If you were told that CPAP provides less reduction in blood pressure than dietary changes and/or medications, would you choose to wear it or take a pill once a day? Remember, you have to take the pill anyway to get your blood pressure to target unless your pressure is only 1.5-1.6 mm Hg above normal. Where does one find patients who are anxious to wear a mask to bed for minimal benefit and a 20% copay? I’ve yet to meet one.

As always, the pressure pushers are undeterred by inconvenient evidence. A secondary analysis of adherent patients in RICCADSA resorts to the “bait and switch” that’s propped up CPAP enthusiasts for decades: Compare adherent patients versus those who are not (or those who refuse treatment) to prove benefit. The flaws to this approach are obvious. First, performing a post hoc analysis that reintroduces all of the confounding that plagues existing CPAP data negates the benefits of randomization, fancy statistics notwithstanding. Second, it belies the reality that in well-controlled, well-conducted randomized trials where patients get far more support than those in the community (and sometimes are preselected for adherence), a majority simply won’t use CPAP . Excluding the nonadherent or comparing them with the adherent is the epitome of selection bias.

The editorial accompanying the ISAACC study is a tour de force in CPAP apologies. The apnea-hypopnea index (AHI) isn’t the right metric — this one’s invoked often. Never mind that the very premise that OSA causes CVD is from observational data based on the AHI. If you abandon the AHI, don’t you lose your justification for prospective trials targeting CVD with CPAP?

Even better, in an argument fit for a Twitter ban, the author suggests that patients in ISAACC, SAVE, and RICCADSA couldn’t benefit because they already have CVD. The very concept, refuted by decades of secondary prevention research in cardiology, implies that CPAP should be used for primary prevention. Only a sleep researcher could spin a negative study into an expansion of CPAP indications. Others in the AASM have made similar proposals.

Final Thoughts

The sleep field lacks unblinded realists capable of choosing wisely. A little therapeutic underconfidence is warranted. Diseases and therapies will always have champions. Prudence and restraint? Not so much. The AASM could summarize the CPAP literature in a single recommendation: “If your patient is sleepy, CPAP might help them feel better if their disease is moderate or severe.” All other indications are soft.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Aaron B. Holley, MD, is a professor of medicine at Uniformed Services University in Bethesda, Maryland, and a pulmonary/sleep and critical care medicine physician at MedStar Washington Hospital Center in Washington, DC. He covers a  wide range of topics in pulmonary, critical care, and sleep medicine .

As we begin to find our way in the new world of obesity management, questions continue to surface more quickly than answers. This isn’t surprising, as we are being asked to view obesity as a disease when for decades the general consensus has been that overweight people are simply will power deficient.

Are the new drugs as effective as we are told by the patients and physicians who have had some experience using and prescribing them? Will they continue to be effective in the very long run? Will their safety record hold up over time? And for those of us in pediatrics, what will be their role for children? As a group we tend to be cautious about drugs that haven’t been thoroughly tested in children. How many years will it take before we feel comfortable with obesity drugs? And, of course, we should be asking ourselves the same questions about bariatric surgery.

Fortunately, while the media spotlight has been focused on the treatment arm of our obesity strategy, there are still some folks looking at what has been up to now the discouraging prospects for prevention. The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) has recently released a draft of its recommendations that includes evidence supporting the effectiveness of “intensive behavioral interventions” (defined as a minimum of 26 hours of counseling). In reviewing data from nearly 60 randomized controlled trials, which included more than 10,000 children, the task force found that when beginning as early as age 6, a package including healthy eating education, physical activity, and behavioral change support could be effective in helping the children achieve healthy weight and an improved quality of life. It should be noted that the USPSTF gave the intervention package only a B grade, which means that the agency found evidence of high certainty of a moderate benefit over an unspecified time period. Certainly, not a ringing endorsement.

While I think we must applaud the diligent efforts of the task force and its commitment to prevention, I fear that the strategy is too little too late. That being said, I am willing to accept the idea that targeting age 6 for intensive counseling may qualify for the better-late-than-never category. The task force acknowledges that procuring the resources given our already understaffed mental health clinics is going to be difficult and expensive. I would add that it will be so costly in time and money as to be unrealistic.

Based on my observations of thousands of children, the scaffolding of habits, diet, and preference for inactivity that underly obesity has already been laid by age 6. Are we prepared to shoulder our already overburdened school systems in an attempt to reconfigure this foundation of an obesogenic lifestyle? An effort on this scale after children have been sent off to first grade is doomed to failure.

A recent review of data reported by the CDC and reviewed in the journal Pediatrics reveals that about 2% of children receiving federal assistance from the WIC program are severely obese. It is probably safe to say that these preschoolers represent just the tip of a very concerning iceberg.

By waiting until age 6, we would increase the risk of further stigmatizing the obese child. What will he tell his peers when he is taken out of school or misses a playdate because he has to meet with his “obesity counselor”?

If we are going to take obesity prevention seriously and spend time and money in counseling, doesn’t it make more sense to invest this effort on the parents and the home situation when the child is still under their influence? We must be prepared to unwrap and employ an “intensive behavioral package” the first time we see evidence that the child’s growth chart is heading in an unhealthy direction.

This won’t always be easy. I can recall seeing a 4-year-old whose weight had risen dramatically from her previous curve in the year since her 3-year checkup. The answer became obvious when I discovered that her grandmother, for whom baking was a passion, had taken over as her daycare provider. Arriving at a solution that kept the family on speaking terms took some tact, but it was one of my rare successes in obesity prevention. And, it worked because of early intervention.

Thank you USPSTF, but 6 years is too late.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

As we begin to find our way in the new world of obesity management, questions continue to surface more quickly than answers. This isn’t surprising, as we are being asked to view obesity as a disease when for decades the general consensus has been that overweight people are simply will power deficient.

Are the new drugs as effective as we are told by the patients and physicians who have had some experience using and prescribing them? Will they continue to be effective in the very long run? Will their safety record hold up over time? And for those of us in pediatrics, what will be their role for children? As a group we tend to be cautious about drugs that haven’t been thoroughly tested in children. How many years will it take before we feel comfortable with obesity drugs? And, of course, we should be asking ourselves the same questions about bariatric surgery.

Fortunately, while the media spotlight has been focused on the treatment arm of our obesity strategy, there are still some folks looking at what has been up to now the discouraging prospects for prevention. The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) has recently released a draft of its recommendations that includes evidence supporting the effectiveness of “intensive behavioral interventions” (defined as a minimum of 26 hours of counseling). In reviewing data from nearly 60 randomized controlled trials, which included more than 10,000 children, the task force found that when beginning as early as age 6, a package including healthy eating education, physical activity, and behavioral change support could be effective in helping the children achieve healthy weight and an improved quality of life. It should be noted that the USPSTF gave the intervention package only a B grade, which means that the agency found evidence of high certainty of a moderate benefit over an unspecified time period. Certainly, not a ringing endorsement.

While I think we must applaud the diligent efforts of the task force and its commitment to prevention, I fear that the strategy is too little too late. That being said, I am willing to accept the idea that targeting age 6 for intensive counseling may qualify for the better-late-than-never category. The task force acknowledges that procuring the resources given our already understaffed mental health clinics is going to be difficult and expensive. I would add that it will be so costly in time and money as to be unrealistic.

Based on my observations of thousands of children, the scaffolding of habits, diet, and preference for inactivity that underly obesity has already been laid by age 6. Are we prepared to shoulder our already overburdened school systems in an attempt to reconfigure this foundation of an obesogenic lifestyle? An effort on this scale after children have been sent off to first grade is doomed to failure.

A recent review of data reported by the CDC and reviewed in the journal Pediatrics reveals that about 2% of children receiving federal assistance from the WIC program are severely obese. It is probably safe to say that these preschoolers represent just the tip of a very concerning iceberg.

By waiting until age 6, we would increase the risk of further stigmatizing the obese child. What will he tell his peers when he is taken out of school or misses a playdate because he has to meet with his “obesity counselor”?

If we are going to take obesity prevention seriously and spend time and money in counseling, doesn’t it make more sense to invest this effort on the parents and the home situation when the child is still under their influence? We must be prepared to unwrap and employ an “intensive behavioral package” the first time we see evidence that the child’s growth chart is heading in an unhealthy direction.

This won’t always be easy. I can recall seeing a 4-year-old whose weight had risen dramatically from her previous curve in the year since her 3-year checkup. The answer became obvious when I discovered that her grandmother, for whom baking was a passion, had taken over as her daycare provider. Arriving at a solution that kept the family on speaking terms took some tact, but it was one of my rare successes in obesity prevention. And, it worked because of early intervention.

Thank you USPSTF, but 6 years is too late.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

As we begin to find our way in the new world of obesity management, questions continue to surface more quickly than answers. This isn’t surprising, as we are being asked to view obesity as a disease when for decades the general consensus has been that overweight people are simply will power deficient.

Are the new drugs as effective as we are told by the patients and physicians who have had some experience using and prescribing them? Will they continue to be effective in the very long run? Will their safety record hold up over time? And for those of us in pediatrics, what will be their role for children? As a group we tend to be cautious about drugs that haven’t been thoroughly tested in children. How many years will it take before we feel comfortable with obesity drugs? And, of course, we should be asking ourselves the same questions about bariatric surgery.

Fortunately, while the media spotlight has been focused on the treatment arm of our obesity strategy, there are still some folks looking at what has been up to now the discouraging prospects for prevention. The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) has recently released a draft of its recommendations that includes evidence supporting the effectiveness of “intensive behavioral interventions” (defined as a minimum of 26 hours of counseling). In reviewing data from nearly 60 randomized controlled trials, which included more than 10,000 children, the task force found that when beginning as early as age 6, a package including healthy eating education, physical activity, and behavioral change support could be effective in helping the children achieve healthy weight and an improved quality of life. It should be noted that the USPSTF gave the intervention package only a B grade, which means that the agency found evidence of high certainty of a moderate benefit over an unspecified time period. Certainly, not a ringing endorsement.

While I think we must applaud the diligent efforts of the task force and its commitment to prevention, I fear that the strategy is too little too late. That being said, I am willing to accept the idea that targeting age 6 for intensive counseling may qualify for the better-late-than-never category. The task force acknowledges that procuring the resources given our already understaffed mental health clinics is going to be difficult and expensive. I would add that it will be so costly in time and money as to be unrealistic.

Based on my observations of thousands of children, the scaffolding of habits, diet, and preference for inactivity that underly obesity has already been laid by age 6. Are we prepared to shoulder our already overburdened school systems in an attempt to reconfigure this foundation of an obesogenic lifestyle? An effort on this scale after children have been sent off to first grade is doomed to failure.

A recent review of data reported by the CDC and reviewed in the journal Pediatrics reveals that about 2% of children receiving federal assistance from the WIC program are severely obese. It is probably safe to say that these preschoolers represent just the tip of a very concerning iceberg.

By waiting until age 6, we would increase the risk of further stigmatizing the obese child. What will he tell his peers when he is taken out of school or misses a playdate because he has to meet with his “obesity counselor”?

If we are going to take obesity prevention seriously and spend time and money in counseling, doesn’t it make more sense to invest this effort on the parents and the home situation when the child is still under their influence? We must be prepared to unwrap and employ an “intensive behavioral package” the first time we see evidence that the child’s growth chart is heading in an unhealthy direction.

This won’t always be easy. I can recall seeing a 4-year-old whose weight had risen dramatically from her previous curve in the year since her 3-year checkup. The answer became obvious when I discovered that her grandmother, for whom baking was a passion, had taken over as her daycare provider. Arriving at a solution that kept the family on speaking terms took some tact, but it was one of my rare successes in obesity prevention. And, it worked because of early intervention.

Thank you USPSTF, but 6 years is too late.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

This discussion was recorded on November 16, 2023. This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Robert D. Glatter, MD: Welcome. I’m Dr. Robert Glatter, medical advisor for Medscape Emergency Medicine. Joining me today is Dr. Brian J. Miller, a hospitalist with Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine and a health policy expert, to discuss the current and renewed interest in physician-owned hospitals.

Welcome, Dr. Miller. It’s a pleasure to have you join me today.

Brian J. Miller, MD, MBA, MPH: Thank you for having me.

History and Controversies Surrounding Physician-Owned Hospitals

Dr. Glatter: I want to start off by having you describe the history associated with the moratorium on new physician-owned hospitals in 2010 that’s related ultimately to the Affordable Care Act, but also, the current and renewed media interest in physician-owned hospitals that’s linked to recent congressional hearings last month.

Dr. Miller: Thank you. I should note that my views are my own and don’t represent those of Hopkins or the American Enterprise Institute, where I’m a nonresident fellow nor the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission, of which I’m a Commissioner.

The story about physician-owned hospitals is an interesting one. Hospitals turned into health systems in the 1980s and 1990s, and physicians started to shift purely from an independent model into a more organized group practice or employed model. Physicians realized that they wanted an alternative operating arrangement. You want a choice of how you practice and what your employment is. And as community hospitals started to buy physicians and also establish their own physician groups de novo, physicians opened physician-owned hospitals.

Physician-owned hospitals fell into a couple of buckets. One is what we call community hospitals, or what the antitrust lawyers would call general acute care hospitals: those offering emergency room (ER) services, labor and delivery, primary care, general surgery — the whole regular gamut, except that some of the owners were physicians.

The other half of the marketplace ended up being specialty hospitals: those built around a specific medical specialty and series of procedures and chronic care. For example, cardiac hospitals often do CABG, TAVR, maybe abdominal aortic aneurysm (triple A) repairs, and they have cardiology clinics, cath labs, a cardiac intensive care unit (ICU), ER, etc. There were also orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, which were sort of like an ambulatory surgery center (ASC) plus several beds. Then there were general surgical specialty hospitals. At one point, there were some women’s health–focused specialty hospitals.

The hospital industry, of course, as you can understand, didn’t exactly like this. They had a series of concerns about what we would historically call cherry-picking or lemon-dropping of patients. They were worried that physician-owned facilities didn’t want to serve public payer patients, and there was a whole series of reports and investigations.

Around the time the Affordable Care Act passed, the hospital industry had many concerns about physician-owned specialty hospitals, and there was a moratorium as part of the 2003 Medicare Modernization Act. As part of the bargaining over the hospital industry support for the Affordable Care Act, they traded their support for, among other things, their number one priority, which is a statutory prohibition on new or expanded physician-owned hospitals from participating in Medicare. That included both physician-owned community hospitals and physician-owned specialty hospitals.

Dr. Glatter: I guess the main interest is that, when physicians have an ownership or a stake in the hospital, this is what the Stark laws obviously were aimed at. That was part of the impetus to prevent physicians from referring patients where they had an ownership stake. Certainly, hospitals can be owned by attorneys and nonprofit organizations, and certainly, ASCs can be owned by physicians. There is an ongoing issue in terms of physicians not being able to have an ownership stake. In terms of equity ownership, we know that certain other models allow this, but basically, it sounds like this is an issue with Medicare. That seems to be the crux of it, correct?

Dr. Miller: Yes. I would also add that it’s interesting when we look at other professions. When we look at lawyers, nonlawyers are actually not allowed to own an equity stake in a law practice. In many other professions, you either have corporate ownership or professional ownership, or the alternative is you have only professional ownership. I would say the hospital industry is one of the few areas where professional ownership not only is not allowed, but also is statutorily prohibited functionally through the Medicare program.

Unveiling the Dynamics of Hospital Ownership

Dr. Glatter: A recent study done by two PhDs looked at 2019 data on 20 of the most expensive diagnosis-related groups (DRGs). It examined the cost savings, and we’re talking over $1 billion in expenditures when you look at the data from general acute care hospitals vs physician-owned hospitals. This is what appears to me to be a key driver of the push to loosen restrictions on physician-owned hospitals. Isn’t that correct?

Dr. Miller: I would say that’s one of many components. There’s more history to this issue. I remember sitting at a think tank talking to someone several years ago about hospital consolidation as an issue. We went through the usual levers that us policy wonks go through. We talked about antitrust enforcement, certificate of need, rising hospital costs from consolidation, lower quality (or at least no quality gains, as shown by a New England Journal of Medicine study), and decrements in patient experience that result from the diseconomies of scale. They sort of pooh-poohed many of the policy ideas. They basically said that there was no hope for hospital consolidation as an issue.

Well, what about physician ownership? I started with my research team to comb through the literature and found a variety of studies — some of which were sort of entertaining, because they’d do things like study physician-owned specialty hospitals, nonprofit-owned specialty hospitals, and for-profit specialty hospitals and compare them with nonprofit or for-profit community hospitals, and then say physician-owned hospitals that were specialty were bad.

They mixed ownership and service markets right there in so many ways, I’m not sure where to start. My team did a systematic review of around 30 years of research, looking at the evidence base in this space. We found a couple of things.

We found that physician-owned community hospitals did not have a cost or quality difference, meaning that there was no definitive evidence that the physician-owned community hospitals were cheaper based on historical evidence, which was very old. That means there’s not specific harm from them. When you permit market entry for community hospitals, that promotes competition, which results in lower prices and higher quality.

Then we also looked at the specialty hospital markets — surgical specialty hospitals, orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, and cardiac hospitals. We noted for cardiac hospitals, there wasn’t clear evidence about cost savings, but there was definitive evidence of higher quality, from things like 30-day mortality for significant procedures like treatment of acute MI, triple A repair, stuff like that.

For orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, we noted lower costs and higher quality, which again fits with operationally what we would know. If you have a facility that’s doing 20 total hips a day, you’re creating a focused factory. Just like if you think about it for interventional cardiology, your boards have a minimum number of procedures that you have to do to stay certified because we know about the volume-quality relationship.

Then we looked at general surgical specialty hospitals. There wasn’t enough evidence to make a conclusive thought about costs, and there was a clear trend toward higher quality. I would say this recent study is important, but there is a whole bunch of other literature out there, too.

Exploring the Scope of Emergency Care in Physician-Owned Hospitals

Dr. Glatter: Certainly, your colleague Wang from Johns Hopkins has done important research in this sector. The paper, “Reconsidering the Ban on Physician-Owned Hospitals to Combat Consolidation,” by you and several colleagues, mentions and highlights the issues that you just described. I understand that it’s going to be published in the NYU Journal of Legislation and Public Policy.

One thing I want to bring up — and this is an important issue — is that the risk for patients has been talked about by the American Hospital Association and the Federation of American Hospitals, in terms of limited or no emergency services at such physician-owned hospitals and having to call 911 when patients need emergent care or stabilization. That’s been the rebuttal, along with an Office of Inspector General (OIG) report from 2008. Almost, I guess, three quarters of the patients that needed emergent care got this at publicly funded hospitals.

Dr. Miller: I’m familiar with the argument about emergency care. If you actually go and look at it, it differs by specialty market. Physician-owned community hospitals have ERs because that’s how they get their business. If you are running a hospital medicine floor, a general surgical specialty floor, you have a labor delivery unit, a primary care clinic, and a cardiology clinic. You have all the things that all the other hospitals have. The physician-owned community hospitals almost uniformly have an ER.

When you look at the physician-owned specialty hospitals, it’s a little more granular. If you look at the cardiac hospitals, they have ERs. They also have cardiac ICUs, operating rooms, etc. The area where the hospital industry had concerns — which I think is valid to point out — is that physician-owned orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals don’t have ERs. But this makes sense because of what that hospital functionally is: a factory for whatever the scope of procedures is, be it joint replacements or shoulder arthroscopy. The orthopedic surgical specialty hospital is like an ASC plus several hospital beds. Many of those did not have ERs because clinically it didn’t make sense.

What’s interesting, though, is that the hospital industry also operates specialty hospitals. If you go into many of the large systems, they have cardiac specialty hospitals and cancer specialty hospitals. I would say that some of them have ERs, as they appropriately should, and some of those specialty hospitals do not. They might have a community hospital down the street that’s part of that health system that has an ER, but some of the specialty hospitals don’t necessarily have a dedicated ER.

I agree, that’s a valid concern. I would say, though, the question is, what are the scope of services in that hospital? Is an ER required? Community hospitals should have ERs. It makes sense also for a cardiac hospital to have one. If you’re running a total joint replacement factory, it might not make clinical sense.

Dr. Glatter: The patients who are treated at that hospital, if they do have emergent conditions, need to have board-certified emergency physicians treating them, in my view because I’m an ER physician. Having surgeons that are not emergency physicians staff a department at a specialty orthopedic hospital or, say, a cancer hospital is not acceptable from my standpoint. That›s my opinion and recommendation, coming from emergency medicine.

Dr. Miller: I would say that anesthesiologists are actually highly qualified in critical care. The question is about clinical decompensation; if you’re doing a procedure, you have an anesthesiologist right there who is capable of critical care. The function of the ER is to either serve as a window into the hospital for patient volume or to serve as a referral for emergent complaints.

Dr. Glatter: An anesthesiologist — I’ll take issue with that — does not have the training of an emergency physician in terms of scope of practice.

Dr. Miller: My anesthesiology colleagues would probably disagree for managing an emergency during an operating room case.

Dr. Glatter: Fair enough, but I think in the general sense. The other issue is that, in terms of emergent responses to patients that decompensate, when you have to transfer a patient, that violates Medicare requirements. How is that even a valid issue or argument if you’re going to have to transfer a patient from your specialty hospital? That happens. Again, I know that you’re saying these hospitals are completely independent and can function, stabilize patients, and treat emergencies, but that’s not the reality across the country, in my opinion.

Dr. Miller: I don’t think that’s the case for the physician-owned specialty cardiac hospitals, for starters. Many of those have ICUs in addition to operating rooms as a matter of routine in addition to ERs. I don’t think that’s the case for physician-owned community hospitals, which have ERs, ICUs, medicine floors, and surgical floors. Physician-owned community hospitals are around half the market. Of that remaining market, a significant percentage are cardiac hospitals. If you’re taking an issue with orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, that’s a clinical operational question that can and should be answered.

I’d also posit that the nonprofit and for-profit hospital industries also operate specialty hospitals. Any of these questions, we shouldn’t just be asking about physician-owned facilities; we should be asking about them across ownership types, because we’re talking about scope of service and quality and safety. The ownership in that case doesn’t matter. The broader question is, are orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals owned by physicians, tax-exempt hospitals, or tax-paying hospitals? Is that a valid clinical business model? Is it safe? Does it meet Medicare conditions of participation? I would say that’s what that question is, because other ownership models do operate those facilities.

Dr. Glatter: You make some valid points, and I do agree on some of them. I think that, ultimately, these models of care, and certainly cost and quality, are issues. Again, it goes back to being able, in my opinion, to provide emergent care, which seems to me a very important issue.

Dr. Miller: I agree that providing emergent care is an issue. It›s an issue in any site of care. The hospital industry posits that all hospital outpatient departments (HOPDs) have emergent care. I can tell you, having worked in HOPDs (I›ve trained in them during residency), the response if something emergent happens is to either call 911 or wheel the patient down to the ER in a wheelchair or stretcher. I think that these hospital claims about emergency care coverage — these are important questions, but we should be asking them across all clinical settings and say what is the appropriate scope of care provided? What is the appropriate level of acuity and ability to provide emergent or critical care? That›s an important question regardless of ownership model across the entire industry.

Deeper Dive Into Data on Physician-Owned Hospitals

Dr. Glatter: We need to really focus on that. I’ll agree with you on that.

There was a March 2023 report from Dobson | DaVanzo. It showed that physician-owned hospitals had lower Medicaid, dual-eligible, and uncompensated care and charity care discharges than full-service acute care hospitals. Physician-owned hospitals had less than half the proportion of Medicaid discharges compared with non–physician-owned hospitals. They were also less likely to care for dual-eligible patients overall compared with non–physician-owned hospitals.

In addition, when COVID hit, the physician-owned hospitals overall — and again, there may be exceptions — were not equipped to handle these patient surges in the acute setting of a public health emergency. There was a hospital in Texas that did pivot that I’m aware of — Renaissance Hospital, which ramped up a long-term care facility to become a COVID hospital — but I think that’s the exception. I think this report raises some valid concerns; I’ll let you rebut that.

Dr. Miller: A couple of things. One, I am not aware that there’s any clear market evidence or a systematic study that shows that physician-owned hospitals had trouble responding to COVID. I don’t think that assertion has been proven. The study was funded by the hospital industry. First of all, it was not a peer-reviewed study; it was funded by an industry that paid a consulting firm. It doesn’t mean that we still shouldn’t read it, but that brings bias into question. The joke in Washington is, pick your favorite statistician or economist, and they can say what you want and have a battle of economists and statisticians.

For example, in that study, they didn’t include the entire ownership universe of physician-owned hospitals. If we go to the peer-reviewed literature, there’s a great 2015 BMJ paper showing that the Medicaid payer mix is actually the same between physician-owned hospitals vs not. The mix of patients by ethnicity — for example, think about African American patients — was the same. I would be more inclined to believe the peer-reviewed literature in BMJ as opposed to an industry-funded study that was not peer-reviewed and not independent and has methodological questions.

Dr. Glatter: Those data are 8 years old, so I’d like to see more recent data. It would be interesting, just as a follow-up to that, to see where the needle has moved — if it has, for that matter — in terms of Medicaid patients that you’re referring to.

Dr. Miller: I tend to be skeptical of all industry research, regardless of who published it, because they have an economic incentive. If they’re selecting certain age groups or excluding certain hospitals, that makes you wonder about the validity of the study. Your job as an industry-funded researcher is that, essentially, you’re being paid to look for an answer. It’s not necessarily an honest evaluation of the data.

Dr. Glatter: I want to bring up another point about the Hospital Readmissions Reduction Program (HRRP) and the data on how physician-owned hospitals compared with acute care hospitals that are non–physician-owned and have you comment on that. The Dobson | DaVanzo study called into question that physician-owned hospitals treat fewer patients who are dual-eligible, which we know.

Dr. Miller: I don’t think we do know that.

Dr. Glatter: There are data that point to that, again, looking at the studies.

Dr. Miller: I’m saying that’s a single study funded by industry as opposed to an independent, academic, peer-reviewed literature paper. That would be like saying, during the debate of the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), that you should read the pharmaceutical industries research but take any of it at pure face value as factual. Yes, we should read it. Yes, we should evaluate it on its own merits. I think, again, appropriately, you need to be concerned when people have an economic incentive.

The question about the HRRP I’m going to take a little broader, because I think that program is unfair to the industry overall. There are many factors that drive hospital readmission. Whether Mrs Smith went home and ate potato chips and then took her Lasix, that’s very much outside of the hospital industry’s control, and there’s some evidence that the HRRP increases mortality in some patient populations.

In terms of a quality metric, it’s unfair to the industry. I think we took an operating process, internal metric for the hospital industry, turned it into a quality metric, and attached it to a financial bonus, which is an inappropriate policy decision.

Rethinking Ownership Models and Empowering Clinicians

Dr. Glatter: I agree with you on that. One thing I do want to bring up is that whether the physician-owned hospitals are subject to many of the quality measures that full-service, acute care hospitals are. That really is, I think, a broader context.

Dr. Miller: Fifty-five percent of physician-owned hospitals are full-service community hospitals, so I would say at least half the market is 100% subject to that.

Dr. Glatter: If only 50% are, that’s already an issue.

Dr. Miller: Cardiac specialty hospitals — which, as I said, nonprofit and for-profit hospital chains also operate — are also subject to the appropriate quality measures, readmissions, etc. Just because we don’t necessarily have the best quality measurement in the system in the country, it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t allow care specialization. As I’d point out, if we’re concerned about specialty hospitals, the concern shouldn’t just be about physician-owned specialty hospitals; it should be about specialty hospitals by and large. Many health systems run cardiac specialty hospitals, cancer specialty hospitals, and orthopedic specialty hospitals. If we’re going to have a discussion about concerns there, it should be about the entire industry of specialty hospitals.

I think specialty hospitals serve an important role in society, allowing for specialization and exploiting in a positive way the volume-quality relationship. Whether those are owned by a for-profit publicly traded company, a tax-exempt facility, or physicians, I think that is an important way to have innovation and care delivery because frankly, we haven’t had much innovation in care delivery. Much of what we do in terms of how we practice clinically hasn’t really changed in the 50 years since my late father graduated from medical school. We still have rounds, we’re still taking notes, we’re still operating in the same way. Many processes are manual. We don’t have the mass production and mass customization of care that we need.

When you have a focused factory, it allows you to design care in a way that drives up quality, not just for the average patient but also the patients at the tail ends, because you have time to focus on that specific service line and that specific patient population.

Physician-owned community hospitals offer an important opportunity for a different employment model. I remember going to the dermatologist and the dermatologist was depressed, shuffling around the room, sad, and I asked him why. He said he didn’t really like his employer, and I said, “Why don’t you pick another one?” He’s like, “There are only two large health systems I can work for. They all have the same clinical practice environment and functionally the same value.”

Physicians are increasingly burned out. They face monopsony power in who purchases their labor. They have little control. They don’t want to go through five committees, seven administrators, and attend 25 meetings just to change a single small process in clinical operations. If you’re an owner operator, you have a much better ability to do it.

Frankly, when many facilities do well now, when they do well clinically and do well financially, who benefits? The hospital administration and the hospital executives. The doctors aren’t benefiting. The nurses aren’t benefiting. The CNA is not benefiting. The secretary is not benefiting. The custodian is not benefiting. Shouldn’t the workers have a right to own and operate the business and do well when the business does well serving the community? That puts me in the weird space of agreeing with both conservatives and progressives.

Dr. Glatter: I agree with you. I think an ownership stake is always attractive. It helps with retention of employed persons. There›s no question that, when they have a stake, when they have skin in the game, they feel more empowered. I will not argue with you about that.

Dr. Miller: We don’t have business models where workers have that option in healthcare. Like the National Academy of Medicine said, one of the key drivers of burnout is the externalization of the locus of control over clinical practice, and the current business operating models guarantee an externalization of the locus of control over clinical practice.

If you actually look at the recent American Medical Association (AMA) meeting, there was a resolution to ban the corporate practice of medicine. They wanted to go more toward the legal professions model where only physicians can own and operate care delivery.

Dr. Glatter: Well, I think the shift is certainly something that the AMA would like and physicians collectively would agree with. Having a better lifestyle and being able to have control are factors in burnout.

Dr. Miller: It’s not just doctors. I think nurses want a better lifestyle. The nurses are treated as interchangeable lines on a spreadsheet. The nurses are an integral part of our clinical team. Why don’t we work together as a clinical unit to build a better delivery system? What better way to do that than to have clinicians in charge of it, right?

My favorite bakery that’s about 30 minutes away is owned by a baker. It is not owned by a large tax-exempt corporation. It’s owned by an owner operator who takes pride in their work. I think that is something that the profession would do well to return to. When I was a resident, one of my colleagues was already planning their retirement. That’s how depressed they were.

I went into medicine to actually care for patients. I think that we can make the world a better place for our patients. What that means is not only treating them with drugs and devices, but also creating a delivery system where they don’t have to wander from lobby to lobby in a 200,000 square-foot facility, wait in line for hours on end, get bills 6 months later, and fill out endless paper forms over and over again.

All of these basic processes in healthcare delivery that are broken could have and should have been fixed — and have been fixed in almost every other industry. I had to replace one of my car tires because I had a flat tire. The local tire shop has an app, and it sends me SMS text messages telling me when my appointment is and when my car is ready. We have solved all of these problems in many other businesses.

We have not solved them in healthcare delivery because, one, we have massive monopolies that are raising prices, have lower quality, and deliver a crappy patient experience, and we have also subjugated the clinical worker into a corporate automaton. We are functionally drones. We don’t have the agency and the authority to improve clinical operations anymore. It’s really depressing, and we should have that option again.

I trust my doctor. I trust the nurses that I work with, and I would like them to help make clinical decisions in a financially responsible and a sensible operational manner. We need to empower our workforce in order to do that so we can recapture the value of what it means to be a clinician again.

The current model of corporate employment: massive scale, more administrators, more processes, more emails, more meetings, more PowerPoint decks, more federal subsidies. The hospital industry has choices. It can improve clinical operations. It can show up in Washington and lobby for increased subsidies. It can invest in the market and not pay taxes for the tax-exempt facilities. Obviously, it makes the logical choices as an economic actor to show up, lobby for increased subsidies, and then also invest in the stock market.

Improving clinical operations is hard. It hasn’t happened. The Bureau of Labor Statistics shows that the private community hospital industry has had flat labor productivity growth, on average, for the past 25 years, and for some years it even declined. This is totally atypical across the economy.

We have failed our clinicians, and most importantly, we have failed our patients. I’ve been sick. My relatives have been sick, waiting hours, not able to get appointments, and redoing forms. It’s a total disaster. It’s time and reasonable to try an alternative ownership and operating model. There are obviously problems. The problems can and should be addressed, but it doesn’t mean that we should have a statutory prohibition on professionals owning and operating their own business.

Dr. Glatter: There was a report that $500 million was saved by limiting or banning or putting a moratorium on physician-owned hospitals by the Congressional Budget Office.

Dr. Miller: Yes, I’m very aware of those data. I’d say that the CBO also is off by 50% on the estimation of the implementation of the Part D program. They overestimated the Affordable Care Act market enrollment by over 10 million people — again, around 50%. They also estimated that the CMS Innovation Center initially would be a savings. Now they’ve re-estimated it as a 10-year expenditure and it has actually cost the taxpayers money.

The CBO is not transparent about what its assumptions are or its analysis and methods. As a researcher, we have to publish our information. It has to go through peer review. I want to know what goes into that $500 million figure — what the assumptions are and what the model is. It’s hard to comment without knowing how they came up with it.

Dr. Glatter: The points you make are very valid. Physicians and nurses want a better lifestyle.

Dr. Miller: It’s not even a better lifestyle. It’s about having a say in how clinical operations work and helping make them better. We want the delivery system to work better. This is an opportunity for us to do so.

Dr. Glatter: That translates into technology: obviously, generative artificial intelligence (AI) coming into the forefront, as we know, and changing care delivery models as you’re referring to, which is going to happen. It’s going to be a slow process. I think that the evolution is happening and will happen, as you accurately described.

Dr. Miller: The other thing that’s different now vs 20 years ago is that managed care is here, there, and everywhere, as Dr Seuss would say. You have utilization review and prior authorization, which I’ve experienced as a patient and a physician, and boy, is it not a fun process. There’s a large amount of friction that needs to be improved. If we’re worried about induced demand or inappropriate utilization, we have managed care right there to help police bad behavior.

Reforming Healthcare Systems and Restoring Patient-Centric Focus

Dr. Glatter: If you were to come up with, say, three bullet points of how we can work our way out of this current morass of where our healthcare systems exist, where do you see the solutions or how can we make and effect change?

Dr. Miller: I’d say there are a couple of things. One is, let business models compete fairly on an equal playing field. Let the physician-owned hospital compete with the tax-exempt hospital and the nonprofit hospital. Put them on an equal playing field. We have things like 340B, which favors tax-exempt hospitals. For-profit or tax-paying hospitals are not able to participate in that. That doesn’t make any sense just from a public policy perspective. Tax-paying hospitals and physician-owned hospitals pay taxes on investments, but tax-exempt hospitals don’t. I think, in public policy, we need to equalize the playing field between business models. Let the best business model win.

The other thing we need to do is to encourage the adoption of technology. The physician will eventually be an arbiter of tech-driven or AI-driven tools. In fact, at some point, the standard of care might be to use those tools. Not using those tools would be seen as negligence. If you think about placing a jugular or central venous catheter, to not use ultrasound would be considered insane. Thirty years ago, to use ultrasound would be considered novel. I think technology and AI will get us to that point of helping make care more efficient and more customized.

Those are the two biggest interventions, I would say. Third, every time we have a conversation in public policy, we need to remember what it is to be a patient. The decision should be driven not around any one industry’s profitability, but what it is to be a patient and how we can make that experience less burdensome, less expensive, or in plain English, suck less.

Dr. Glatter: Safety net hospitals and critical access hospitals are part of this discussion that, yes, we want everything to, in an ideal world, function more efficiently and effectively, with less cost and less red tape. The safety net of our nation is struggling.

Dr. Miller: I 100% agree. The Cook County hospitals of the world are deserving of our support and, frankly, our gratitude. Facilities like that have huge burdens of patients with Medicaid. We also still have millions of uninsured patients. The neighborhoods that they serve are also poorer. I think facilities like that are deserving of public support.

I also think we need to clearly define what those hospitals are. One of the challenges I’ve realized as I waded into this space is that market definitions of what a service market is for a hospital, its specialty type or what a safety net hospital is need to be more clearly defined because those facilities 100% are deserving of our support. We just need to be clear about what they are.

Regarding critical access hospitals, when you practice in a rural area, you have to think differently about care delivery. I’d say many of the rural systems are highly creative in how they structure clinical operations. Before the public health emergency, during the COVID pandemic, when we had a massive change in telehealth, rural hospitals were using — within the very narrow confines — as much telehealth as they could and should.

Rural hospitals also make greater use of nurse practitioners (NPs) and physician assistants (PAs). For many of the specialty services, I remember, your first call was an NP or a PA because the physician was downstairs doing procedures. They’d come up and assess the patient before the procedure, but most of your consult questions were answered by the NP or PA. I’m not saying that’s the model we should use nationwide, but that rural systems are highly innovative and creative; they’re deserving of our time, attention, and support, and frankly, we can learn from them.

Dr. Glatter: I want to thank you for your time and your expertise in this area. We’ll see how the congressional hearings affect the industry as a whole, how the needle moves, and whether the ban or moratorium on physician-owned hospitals continues to exist going forward.

Dr. Miller: I appreciate you having me. The hospital industry is one of the most important industries for health care. This is a time of inflection, right? We need to go back to the value of what it means to be a clinician and serve patients. Hospitals need to reorient themselves around that core concern. How do we help support clinicians — doctors, nurses, pharmacists, whomever it is — in serving patients? Hospitals have become too corporate, so I think that this is an expected pushback.

Dr. Glatter: Again, I want to thank you for your time. This was a very important discussion. Thank you for your expertise.



Robert D. Glatter, MD, is an assistant professor of emergency medicine at Zucker School of Medicine at Hofstra/Northwell in Hempstead, New York. He is a medical advisor for Medscape and hosts the Hot Topics in EM series. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.Brian J. Miller, MD, MBA, MPH, is a hospitalist and an assistant professor of medicine at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine. He is also a nonresident fellow at the American Enterprise Institute. From 2014 to 2017, Dr. Miller worked at four federal regulatory agencies: Federal Trade Commission (FTC), Federal Communications Commission (FCC), Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS), and the Food & Drug Administration (FDA). Dr. Miller disclosed ties with the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission.
 

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This discussion was recorded on November 16, 2023. This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Robert D. Glatter, MD: Welcome. I’m Dr. Robert Glatter, medical advisor for Medscape Emergency Medicine. Joining me today is Dr. Brian J. Miller, a hospitalist with Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine and a health policy expert, to discuss the current and renewed interest in physician-owned hospitals.

Welcome, Dr. Miller. It’s a pleasure to have you join me today.

Brian J. Miller, MD, MBA, MPH: Thank you for having me.

History and Controversies Surrounding Physician-Owned Hospitals

Dr. Glatter: I want to start off by having you describe the history associated with the moratorium on new physician-owned hospitals in 2010 that’s related ultimately to the Affordable Care Act, but also, the current and renewed media interest in physician-owned hospitals that’s linked to recent congressional hearings last month.

Dr. Miller: Thank you. I should note that my views are my own and don’t represent those of Hopkins or the American Enterprise Institute, where I’m a nonresident fellow nor the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission, of which I’m a Commissioner.

The story about physician-owned hospitals is an interesting one. Hospitals turned into health systems in the 1980s and 1990s, and physicians started to shift purely from an independent model into a more organized group practice or employed model. Physicians realized that they wanted an alternative operating arrangement. You want a choice of how you practice and what your employment is. And as community hospitals started to buy physicians and also establish their own physician groups de novo, physicians opened physician-owned hospitals.

Physician-owned hospitals fell into a couple of buckets. One is what we call community hospitals, or what the antitrust lawyers would call general acute care hospitals: those offering emergency room (ER) services, labor and delivery, primary care, general surgery — the whole regular gamut, except that some of the owners were physicians.

The other half of the marketplace ended up being specialty hospitals: those built around a specific medical specialty and series of procedures and chronic care. For example, cardiac hospitals often do CABG, TAVR, maybe abdominal aortic aneurysm (triple A) repairs, and they have cardiology clinics, cath labs, a cardiac intensive care unit (ICU), ER, etc. There were also orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, which were sort of like an ambulatory surgery center (ASC) plus several beds. Then there were general surgical specialty hospitals. At one point, there were some women’s health–focused specialty hospitals.

The hospital industry, of course, as you can understand, didn’t exactly like this. They had a series of concerns about what we would historically call cherry-picking or lemon-dropping of patients. They were worried that physician-owned facilities didn’t want to serve public payer patients, and there was a whole series of reports and investigations.

Around the time the Affordable Care Act passed, the hospital industry had many concerns about physician-owned specialty hospitals, and there was a moratorium as part of the 2003 Medicare Modernization Act. As part of the bargaining over the hospital industry support for the Affordable Care Act, they traded their support for, among other things, their number one priority, which is a statutory prohibition on new or expanded physician-owned hospitals from participating in Medicare. That included both physician-owned community hospitals and physician-owned specialty hospitals.

Dr. Glatter: I guess the main interest is that, when physicians have an ownership or a stake in the hospital, this is what the Stark laws obviously were aimed at. That was part of the impetus to prevent physicians from referring patients where they had an ownership stake. Certainly, hospitals can be owned by attorneys and nonprofit organizations, and certainly, ASCs can be owned by physicians. There is an ongoing issue in terms of physicians not being able to have an ownership stake. In terms of equity ownership, we know that certain other models allow this, but basically, it sounds like this is an issue with Medicare. That seems to be the crux of it, correct?

Dr. Miller: Yes. I would also add that it’s interesting when we look at other professions. When we look at lawyers, nonlawyers are actually not allowed to own an equity stake in a law practice. In many other professions, you either have corporate ownership or professional ownership, or the alternative is you have only professional ownership. I would say the hospital industry is one of the few areas where professional ownership not only is not allowed, but also is statutorily prohibited functionally through the Medicare program.

Unveiling the Dynamics of Hospital Ownership

Dr. Glatter: A recent study done by two PhDs looked at 2019 data on 20 of the most expensive diagnosis-related groups (DRGs). It examined the cost savings, and we’re talking over $1 billion in expenditures when you look at the data from general acute care hospitals vs physician-owned hospitals. This is what appears to me to be a key driver of the push to loosen restrictions on physician-owned hospitals. Isn’t that correct?

Dr. Miller: I would say that’s one of many components. There’s more history to this issue. I remember sitting at a think tank talking to someone several years ago about hospital consolidation as an issue. We went through the usual levers that us policy wonks go through. We talked about antitrust enforcement, certificate of need, rising hospital costs from consolidation, lower quality (or at least no quality gains, as shown by a New England Journal of Medicine study), and decrements in patient experience that result from the diseconomies of scale. They sort of pooh-poohed many of the policy ideas. They basically said that there was no hope for hospital consolidation as an issue.

Well, what about physician ownership? I started with my research team to comb through the literature and found a variety of studies — some of which were sort of entertaining, because they’d do things like study physician-owned specialty hospitals, nonprofit-owned specialty hospitals, and for-profit specialty hospitals and compare them with nonprofit or for-profit community hospitals, and then say physician-owned hospitals that were specialty were bad.

They mixed ownership and service markets right there in so many ways, I’m not sure where to start. My team did a systematic review of around 30 years of research, looking at the evidence base in this space. We found a couple of things.

We found that physician-owned community hospitals did not have a cost or quality difference, meaning that there was no definitive evidence that the physician-owned community hospitals were cheaper based on historical evidence, which was very old. That means there’s not specific harm from them. When you permit market entry for community hospitals, that promotes competition, which results in lower prices and higher quality.

Then we also looked at the specialty hospital markets — surgical specialty hospitals, orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, and cardiac hospitals. We noted for cardiac hospitals, there wasn’t clear evidence about cost savings, but there was definitive evidence of higher quality, from things like 30-day mortality for significant procedures like treatment of acute MI, triple A repair, stuff like that.

For orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, we noted lower costs and higher quality, which again fits with operationally what we would know. If you have a facility that’s doing 20 total hips a day, you’re creating a focused factory. Just like if you think about it for interventional cardiology, your boards have a minimum number of procedures that you have to do to stay certified because we know about the volume-quality relationship.

Then we looked at general surgical specialty hospitals. There wasn’t enough evidence to make a conclusive thought about costs, and there was a clear trend toward higher quality. I would say this recent study is important, but there is a whole bunch of other literature out there, too.

Exploring the Scope of Emergency Care in Physician-Owned Hospitals

Dr. Glatter: Certainly, your colleague Wang from Johns Hopkins has done important research in this sector. The paper, “Reconsidering the Ban on Physician-Owned Hospitals to Combat Consolidation,” by you and several colleagues, mentions and highlights the issues that you just described. I understand that it’s going to be published in the NYU Journal of Legislation and Public Policy.

One thing I want to bring up — and this is an important issue — is that the risk for patients has been talked about by the American Hospital Association and the Federation of American Hospitals, in terms of limited or no emergency services at such physician-owned hospitals and having to call 911 when patients need emergent care or stabilization. That’s been the rebuttal, along with an Office of Inspector General (OIG) report from 2008. Almost, I guess, three quarters of the patients that needed emergent care got this at publicly funded hospitals.

Dr. Miller: I’m familiar with the argument about emergency care. If you actually go and look at it, it differs by specialty market. Physician-owned community hospitals have ERs because that’s how they get their business. If you are running a hospital medicine floor, a general surgical specialty floor, you have a labor delivery unit, a primary care clinic, and a cardiology clinic. You have all the things that all the other hospitals have. The physician-owned community hospitals almost uniformly have an ER.

When you look at the physician-owned specialty hospitals, it’s a little more granular. If you look at the cardiac hospitals, they have ERs. They also have cardiac ICUs, operating rooms, etc. The area where the hospital industry had concerns — which I think is valid to point out — is that physician-owned orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals don’t have ERs. But this makes sense because of what that hospital functionally is: a factory for whatever the scope of procedures is, be it joint replacements or shoulder arthroscopy. The orthopedic surgical specialty hospital is like an ASC plus several hospital beds. Many of those did not have ERs because clinically it didn’t make sense.

What’s interesting, though, is that the hospital industry also operates specialty hospitals. If you go into many of the large systems, they have cardiac specialty hospitals and cancer specialty hospitals. I would say that some of them have ERs, as they appropriately should, and some of those specialty hospitals do not. They might have a community hospital down the street that’s part of that health system that has an ER, but some of the specialty hospitals don’t necessarily have a dedicated ER.

I agree, that’s a valid concern. I would say, though, the question is, what are the scope of services in that hospital? Is an ER required? Community hospitals should have ERs. It makes sense also for a cardiac hospital to have one. If you’re running a total joint replacement factory, it might not make clinical sense.

Dr. Glatter: The patients who are treated at that hospital, if they do have emergent conditions, need to have board-certified emergency physicians treating them, in my view because I’m an ER physician. Having surgeons that are not emergency physicians staff a department at a specialty orthopedic hospital or, say, a cancer hospital is not acceptable from my standpoint. That›s my opinion and recommendation, coming from emergency medicine.

Dr. Miller: I would say that anesthesiologists are actually highly qualified in critical care. The question is about clinical decompensation; if you’re doing a procedure, you have an anesthesiologist right there who is capable of critical care. The function of the ER is to either serve as a window into the hospital for patient volume or to serve as a referral for emergent complaints.

Dr. Glatter: An anesthesiologist — I’ll take issue with that — does not have the training of an emergency physician in terms of scope of practice.

Dr. Miller: My anesthesiology colleagues would probably disagree for managing an emergency during an operating room case.

Dr. Glatter: Fair enough, but I think in the general sense. The other issue is that, in terms of emergent responses to patients that decompensate, when you have to transfer a patient, that violates Medicare requirements. How is that even a valid issue or argument if you’re going to have to transfer a patient from your specialty hospital? That happens. Again, I know that you’re saying these hospitals are completely independent and can function, stabilize patients, and treat emergencies, but that’s not the reality across the country, in my opinion.

Dr. Miller: I don’t think that’s the case for the physician-owned specialty cardiac hospitals, for starters. Many of those have ICUs in addition to operating rooms as a matter of routine in addition to ERs. I don’t think that’s the case for physician-owned community hospitals, which have ERs, ICUs, medicine floors, and surgical floors. Physician-owned community hospitals are around half the market. Of that remaining market, a significant percentage are cardiac hospitals. If you’re taking an issue with orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, that’s a clinical operational question that can and should be answered.

I’d also posit that the nonprofit and for-profit hospital industries also operate specialty hospitals. Any of these questions, we shouldn’t just be asking about physician-owned facilities; we should be asking about them across ownership types, because we’re talking about scope of service and quality and safety. The ownership in that case doesn’t matter. The broader question is, are orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals owned by physicians, tax-exempt hospitals, or tax-paying hospitals? Is that a valid clinical business model? Is it safe? Does it meet Medicare conditions of participation? I would say that’s what that question is, because other ownership models do operate those facilities.

Dr. Glatter: You make some valid points, and I do agree on some of them. I think that, ultimately, these models of care, and certainly cost and quality, are issues. Again, it goes back to being able, in my opinion, to provide emergent care, which seems to me a very important issue.

Dr. Miller: I agree that providing emergent care is an issue. It›s an issue in any site of care. The hospital industry posits that all hospital outpatient departments (HOPDs) have emergent care. I can tell you, having worked in HOPDs (I›ve trained in them during residency), the response if something emergent happens is to either call 911 or wheel the patient down to the ER in a wheelchair or stretcher. I think that these hospital claims about emergency care coverage — these are important questions, but we should be asking them across all clinical settings and say what is the appropriate scope of care provided? What is the appropriate level of acuity and ability to provide emergent or critical care? That›s an important question regardless of ownership model across the entire industry.

Deeper Dive Into Data on Physician-Owned Hospitals

Dr. Glatter: We need to really focus on that. I’ll agree with you on that.

There was a March 2023 report from Dobson | DaVanzo. It showed that physician-owned hospitals had lower Medicaid, dual-eligible, and uncompensated care and charity care discharges than full-service acute care hospitals. Physician-owned hospitals had less than half the proportion of Medicaid discharges compared with non–physician-owned hospitals. They were also less likely to care for dual-eligible patients overall compared with non–physician-owned hospitals.

In addition, when COVID hit, the physician-owned hospitals overall — and again, there may be exceptions — were not equipped to handle these patient surges in the acute setting of a public health emergency. There was a hospital in Texas that did pivot that I’m aware of — Renaissance Hospital, which ramped up a long-term care facility to become a COVID hospital — but I think that’s the exception. I think this report raises some valid concerns; I’ll let you rebut that.

Dr. Miller: A couple of things. One, I am not aware that there’s any clear market evidence or a systematic study that shows that physician-owned hospitals had trouble responding to COVID. I don’t think that assertion has been proven. The study was funded by the hospital industry. First of all, it was not a peer-reviewed study; it was funded by an industry that paid a consulting firm. It doesn’t mean that we still shouldn’t read it, but that brings bias into question. The joke in Washington is, pick your favorite statistician or economist, and they can say what you want and have a battle of economists and statisticians.

For example, in that study, they didn’t include the entire ownership universe of physician-owned hospitals. If we go to the peer-reviewed literature, there’s a great 2015 BMJ paper showing that the Medicaid payer mix is actually the same between physician-owned hospitals vs not. The mix of patients by ethnicity — for example, think about African American patients — was the same. I would be more inclined to believe the peer-reviewed literature in BMJ as opposed to an industry-funded study that was not peer-reviewed and not independent and has methodological questions.

Dr. Glatter: Those data are 8 years old, so I’d like to see more recent data. It would be interesting, just as a follow-up to that, to see where the needle has moved — if it has, for that matter — in terms of Medicaid patients that you’re referring to.

Dr. Miller: I tend to be skeptical of all industry research, regardless of who published it, because they have an economic incentive. If they’re selecting certain age groups or excluding certain hospitals, that makes you wonder about the validity of the study. Your job as an industry-funded researcher is that, essentially, you’re being paid to look for an answer. It’s not necessarily an honest evaluation of the data.

Dr. Glatter: I want to bring up another point about the Hospital Readmissions Reduction Program (HRRP) and the data on how physician-owned hospitals compared with acute care hospitals that are non–physician-owned and have you comment on that. The Dobson | DaVanzo study called into question that physician-owned hospitals treat fewer patients who are dual-eligible, which we know.

Dr. Miller: I don’t think we do know that.

Dr. Glatter: There are data that point to that, again, looking at the studies.

Dr. Miller: I’m saying that’s a single study funded by industry as opposed to an independent, academic, peer-reviewed literature paper. That would be like saying, during the debate of the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), that you should read the pharmaceutical industries research but take any of it at pure face value as factual. Yes, we should read it. Yes, we should evaluate it on its own merits. I think, again, appropriately, you need to be concerned when people have an economic incentive.

The question about the HRRP I’m going to take a little broader, because I think that program is unfair to the industry overall. There are many factors that drive hospital readmission. Whether Mrs Smith went home and ate potato chips and then took her Lasix, that’s very much outside of the hospital industry’s control, and there’s some evidence that the HRRP increases mortality in some patient populations.

In terms of a quality metric, it’s unfair to the industry. I think we took an operating process, internal metric for the hospital industry, turned it into a quality metric, and attached it to a financial bonus, which is an inappropriate policy decision.

Rethinking Ownership Models and Empowering Clinicians

Dr. Glatter: I agree with you on that. One thing I do want to bring up is that whether the physician-owned hospitals are subject to many of the quality measures that full-service, acute care hospitals are. That really is, I think, a broader context.

Dr. Miller: Fifty-five percent of physician-owned hospitals are full-service community hospitals, so I would say at least half the market is 100% subject to that.

Dr. Glatter: If only 50% are, that’s already an issue.

Dr. Miller: Cardiac specialty hospitals — which, as I said, nonprofit and for-profit hospital chains also operate — are also subject to the appropriate quality measures, readmissions, etc. Just because we don’t necessarily have the best quality measurement in the system in the country, it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t allow care specialization. As I’d point out, if we’re concerned about specialty hospitals, the concern shouldn’t just be about physician-owned specialty hospitals; it should be about specialty hospitals by and large. Many health systems run cardiac specialty hospitals, cancer specialty hospitals, and orthopedic specialty hospitals. If we’re going to have a discussion about concerns there, it should be about the entire industry of specialty hospitals.

I think specialty hospitals serve an important role in society, allowing for specialization and exploiting in a positive way the volume-quality relationship. Whether those are owned by a for-profit publicly traded company, a tax-exempt facility, or physicians, I think that is an important way to have innovation and care delivery because frankly, we haven’t had much innovation in care delivery. Much of what we do in terms of how we practice clinically hasn’t really changed in the 50 years since my late father graduated from medical school. We still have rounds, we’re still taking notes, we’re still operating in the same way. Many processes are manual. We don’t have the mass production and mass customization of care that we need.

When you have a focused factory, it allows you to design care in a way that drives up quality, not just for the average patient but also the patients at the tail ends, because you have time to focus on that specific service line and that specific patient population.

Physician-owned community hospitals offer an important opportunity for a different employment model. I remember going to the dermatologist and the dermatologist was depressed, shuffling around the room, sad, and I asked him why. He said he didn’t really like his employer, and I said, “Why don’t you pick another one?” He’s like, “There are only two large health systems I can work for. They all have the same clinical practice environment and functionally the same value.”

Physicians are increasingly burned out. They face monopsony power in who purchases their labor. They have little control. They don’t want to go through five committees, seven administrators, and attend 25 meetings just to change a single small process in clinical operations. If you’re an owner operator, you have a much better ability to do it.

Frankly, when many facilities do well now, when they do well clinically and do well financially, who benefits? The hospital administration and the hospital executives. The doctors aren’t benefiting. The nurses aren’t benefiting. The CNA is not benefiting. The secretary is not benefiting. The custodian is not benefiting. Shouldn’t the workers have a right to own and operate the business and do well when the business does well serving the community? That puts me in the weird space of agreeing with both conservatives and progressives.

Dr. Glatter: I agree with you. I think an ownership stake is always attractive. It helps with retention of employed persons. There›s no question that, when they have a stake, when they have skin in the game, they feel more empowered. I will not argue with you about that.

Dr. Miller: We don’t have business models where workers have that option in healthcare. Like the National Academy of Medicine said, one of the key drivers of burnout is the externalization of the locus of control over clinical practice, and the current business operating models guarantee an externalization of the locus of control over clinical practice.

If you actually look at the recent American Medical Association (AMA) meeting, there was a resolution to ban the corporate practice of medicine. They wanted to go more toward the legal professions model where only physicians can own and operate care delivery.

Dr. Glatter: Well, I think the shift is certainly something that the AMA would like and physicians collectively would agree with. Having a better lifestyle and being able to have control are factors in burnout.

Dr. Miller: It’s not just doctors. I think nurses want a better lifestyle. The nurses are treated as interchangeable lines on a spreadsheet. The nurses are an integral part of our clinical team. Why don’t we work together as a clinical unit to build a better delivery system? What better way to do that than to have clinicians in charge of it, right?

My favorite bakery that’s about 30 minutes away is owned by a baker. It is not owned by a large tax-exempt corporation. It’s owned by an owner operator who takes pride in their work. I think that is something that the profession would do well to return to. When I was a resident, one of my colleagues was already planning their retirement. That’s how depressed they were.

I went into medicine to actually care for patients. I think that we can make the world a better place for our patients. What that means is not only treating them with drugs and devices, but also creating a delivery system where they don’t have to wander from lobby to lobby in a 200,000 square-foot facility, wait in line for hours on end, get bills 6 months later, and fill out endless paper forms over and over again.

All of these basic processes in healthcare delivery that are broken could have and should have been fixed — and have been fixed in almost every other industry. I had to replace one of my car tires because I had a flat tire. The local tire shop has an app, and it sends me SMS text messages telling me when my appointment is and when my car is ready. We have solved all of these problems in many other businesses.

We have not solved them in healthcare delivery because, one, we have massive monopolies that are raising prices, have lower quality, and deliver a crappy patient experience, and we have also subjugated the clinical worker into a corporate automaton. We are functionally drones. We don’t have the agency and the authority to improve clinical operations anymore. It’s really depressing, and we should have that option again.

I trust my doctor. I trust the nurses that I work with, and I would like them to help make clinical decisions in a financially responsible and a sensible operational manner. We need to empower our workforce in order to do that so we can recapture the value of what it means to be a clinician again.

The current model of corporate employment: massive scale, more administrators, more processes, more emails, more meetings, more PowerPoint decks, more federal subsidies. The hospital industry has choices. It can improve clinical operations. It can show up in Washington and lobby for increased subsidies. It can invest in the market and not pay taxes for the tax-exempt facilities. Obviously, it makes the logical choices as an economic actor to show up, lobby for increased subsidies, and then also invest in the stock market.

Improving clinical operations is hard. It hasn’t happened. The Bureau of Labor Statistics shows that the private community hospital industry has had flat labor productivity growth, on average, for the past 25 years, and for some years it even declined. This is totally atypical across the economy.

We have failed our clinicians, and most importantly, we have failed our patients. I’ve been sick. My relatives have been sick, waiting hours, not able to get appointments, and redoing forms. It’s a total disaster. It’s time and reasonable to try an alternative ownership and operating model. There are obviously problems. The problems can and should be addressed, but it doesn’t mean that we should have a statutory prohibition on professionals owning and operating their own business.

Dr. Glatter: There was a report that $500 million was saved by limiting or banning or putting a moratorium on physician-owned hospitals by the Congressional Budget Office.

Dr. Miller: Yes, I’m very aware of those data. I’d say that the CBO also is off by 50% on the estimation of the implementation of the Part D program. They overestimated the Affordable Care Act market enrollment by over 10 million people — again, around 50%. They also estimated that the CMS Innovation Center initially would be a savings. Now they’ve re-estimated it as a 10-year expenditure and it has actually cost the taxpayers money.

The CBO is not transparent about what its assumptions are or its analysis and methods. As a researcher, we have to publish our information. It has to go through peer review. I want to know what goes into that $500 million figure — what the assumptions are and what the model is. It’s hard to comment without knowing how they came up with it.

Dr. Glatter: The points you make are very valid. Physicians and nurses want a better lifestyle.

Dr. Miller: It’s not even a better lifestyle. It’s about having a say in how clinical operations work and helping make them better. We want the delivery system to work better. This is an opportunity for us to do so.

Dr. Glatter: That translates into technology: obviously, generative artificial intelligence (AI) coming into the forefront, as we know, and changing care delivery models as you’re referring to, which is going to happen. It’s going to be a slow process. I think that the evolution is happening and will happen, as you accurately described.

Dr. Miller: The other thing that’s different now vs 20 years ago is that managed care is here, there, and everywhere, as Dr Seuss would say. You have utilization review and prior authorization, which I’ve experienced as a patient and a physician, and boy, is it not a fun process. There’s a large amount of friction that needs to be improved. If we’re worried about induced demand or inappropriate utilization, we have managed care right there to help police bad behavior.

Reforming Healthcare Systems and Restoring Patient-Centric Focus

Dr. Glatter: If you were to come up with, say, three bullet points of how we can work our way out of this current morass of where our healthcare systems exist, where do you see the solutions or how can we make and effect change?

Dr. Miller: I’d say there are a couple of things. One is, let business models compete fairly on an equal playing field. Let the physician-owned hospital compete with the tax-exempt hospital and the nonprofit hospital. Put them on an equal playing field. We have things like 340B, which favors tax-exempt hospitals. For-profit or tax-paying hospitals are not able to participate in that. That doesn’t make any sense just from a public policy perspective. Tax-paying hospitals and physician-owned hospitals pay taxes on investments, but tax-exempt hospitals don’t. I think, in public policy, we need to equalize the playing field between business models. Let the best business model win.

The other thing we need to do is to encourage the adoption of technology. The physician will eventually be an arbiter of tech-driven or AI-driven tools. In fact, at some point, the standard of care might be to use those tools. Not using those tools would be seen as negligence. If you think about placing a jugular or central venous catheter, to not use ultrasound would be considered insane. Thirty years ago, to use ultrasound would be considered novel. I think technology and AI will get us to that point of helping make care more efficient and more customized.

Those are the two biggest interventions, I would say. Third, every time we have a conversation in public policy, we need to remember what it is to be a patient. The decision should be driven not around any one industry’s profitability, but what it is to be a patient and how we can make that experience less burdensome, less expensive, or in plain English, suck less.

Dr. Glatter: Safety net hospitals and critical access hospitals are part of this discussion that, yes, we want everything to, in an ideal world, function more efficiently and effectively, with less cost and less red tape. The safety net of our nation is struggling.

Dr. Miller: I 100% agree. The Cook County hospitals of the world are deserving of our support and, frankly, our gratitude. Facilities like that have huge burdens of patients with Medicaid. We also still have millions of uninsured patients. The neighborhoods that they serve are also poorer. I think facilities like that are deserving of public support.

I also think we need to clearly define what those hospitals are. One of the challenges I’ve realized as I waded into this space is that market definitions of what a service market is for a hospital, its specialty type or what a safety net hospital is need to be more clearly defined because those facilities 100% are deserving of our support. We just need to be clear about what they are.

Regarding critical access hospitals, when you practice in a rural area, you have to think differently about care delivery. I’d say many of the rural systems are highly creative in how they structure clinical operations. Before the public health emergency, during the COVID pandemic, when we had a massive change in telehealth, rural hospitals were using — within the very narrow confines — as much telehealth as they could and should.

Rural hospitals also make greater use of nurse practitioners (NPs) and physician assistants (PAs). For many of the specialty services, I remember, your first call was an NP or a PA because the physician was downstairs doing procedures. They’d come up and assess the patient before the procedure, but most of your consult questions were answered by the NP or PA. I’m not saying that’s the model we should use nationwide, but that rural systems are highly innovative and creative; they’re deserving of our time, attention, and support, and frankly, we can learn from them.

Dr. Glatter: I want to thank you for your time and your expertise in this area. We’ll see how the congressional hearings affect the industry as a whole, how the needle moves, and whether the ban or moratorium on physician-owned hospitals continues to exist going forward.

Dr. Miller: I appreciate you having me. The hospital industry is one of the most important industries for health care. This is a time of inflection, right? We need to go back to the value of what it means to be a clinician and serve patients. Hospitals need to reorient themselves around that core concern. How do we help support clinicians — doctors, nurses, pharmacists, whomever it is — in serving patients? Hospitals have become too corporate, so I think that this is an expected pushback.

Dr. Glatter: Again, I want to thank you for your time. This was a very important discussion. Thank you for your expertise.



Robert D. Glatter, MD, is an assistant professor of emergency medicine at Zucker School of Medicine at Hofstra/Northwell in Hempstead, New York. He is a medical advisor for Medscape and hosts the Hot Topics in EM series. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.Brian J. Miller, MD, MBA, MPH, is a hospitalist and an assistant professor of medicine at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine. He is also a nonresident fellow at the American Enterprise Institute. From 2014 to 2017, Dr. Miller worked at four federal regulatory agencies: Federal Trade Commission (FTC), Federal Communications Commission (FCC), Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS), and the Food & Drug Administration (FDA). Dr. Miller disclosed ties with the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission.
 

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This discussion was recorded on November 16, 2023. This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Robert D. Glatter, MD: Welcome. I’m Dr. Robert Glatter, medical advisor for Medscape Emergency Medicine. Joining me today is Dr. Brian J. Miller, a hospitalist with Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine and a health policy expert, to discuss the current and renewed interest in physician-owned hospitals.

Welcome, Dr. Miller. It’s a pleasure to have you join me today.

Brian J. Miller, MD, MBA, MPH: Thank you for having me.

History and Controversies Surrounding Physician-Owned Hospitals

Dr. Glatter: I want to start off by having you describe the history associated with the moratorium on new physician-owned hospitals in 2010 that’s related ultimately to the Affordable Care Act, but also, the current and renewed media interest in physician-owned hospitals that’s linked to recent congressional hearings last month.

Dr. Miller: Thank you. I should note that my views are my own and don’t represent those of Hopkins or the American Enterprise Institute, where I’m a nonresident fellow nor the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission, of which I’m a Commissioner.

The story about physician-owned hospitals is an interesting one. Hospitals turned into health systems in the 1980s and 1990s, and physicians started to shift purely from an independent model into a more organized group practice or employed model. Physicians realized that they wanted an alternative operating arrangement. You want a choice of how you practice and what your employment is. And as community hospitals started to buy physicians and also establish their own physician groups de novo, physicians opened physician-owned hospitals.

Physician-owned hospitals fell into a couple of buckets. One is what we call community hospitals, or what the antitrust lawyers would call general acute care hospitals: those offering emergency room (ER) services, labor and delivery, primary care, general surgery — the whole regular gamut, except that some of the owners were physicians.

The other half of the marketplace ended up being specialty hospitals: those built around a specific medical specialty and series of procedures and chronic care. For example, cardiac hospitals often do CABG, TAVR, maybe abdominal aortic aneurysm (triple A) repairs, and they have cardiology clinics, cath labs, a cardiac intensive care unit (ICU), ER, etc. There were also orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, which were sort of like an ambulatory surgery center (ASC) plus several beds. Then there were general surgical specialty hospitals. At one point, there were some women’s health–focused specialty hospitals.

The hospital industry, of course, as you can understand, didn’t exactly like this. They had a series of concerns about what we would historically call cherry-picking or lemon-dropping of patients. They were worried that physician-owned facilities didn’t want to serve public payer patients, and there was a whole series of reports and investigations.

Around the time the Affordable Care Act passed, the hospital industry had many concerns about physician-owned specialty hospitals, and there was a moratorium as part of the 2003 Medicare Modernization Act. As part of the bargaining over the hospital industry support for the Affordable Care Act, they traded their support for, among other things, their number one priority, which is a statutory prohibition on new or expanded physician-owned hospitals from participating in Medicare. That included both physician-owned community hospitals and physician-owned specialty hospitals.

Dr. Glatter: I guess the main interest is that, when physicians have an ownership or a stake in the hospital, this is what the Stark laws obviously were aimed at. That was part of the impetus to prevent physicians from referring patients where they had an ownership stake. Certainly, hospitals can be owned by attorneys and nonprofit organizations, and certainly, ASCs can be owned by physicians. There is an ongoing issue in terms of physicians not being able to have an ownership stake. In terms of equity ownership, we know that certain other models allow this, but basically, it sounds like this is an issue with Medicare. That seems to be the crux of it, correct?

Dr. Miller: Yes. I would also add that it’s interesting when we look at other professions. When we look at lawyers, nonlawyers are actually not allowed to own an equity stake in a law practice. In many other professions, you either have corporate ownership or professional ownership, or the alternative is you have only professional ownership. I would say the hospital industry is one of the few areas where professional ownership not only is not allowed, but also is statutorily prohibited functionally through the Medicare program.

Unveiling the Dynamics of Hospital Ownership

Dr. Glatter: A recent study done by two PhDs looked at 2019 data on 20 of the most expensive diagnosis-related groups (DRGs). It examined the cost savings, and we’re talking over $1 billion in expenditures when you look at the data from general acute care hospitals vs physician-owned hospitals. This is what appears to me to be a key driver of the push to loosen restrictions on physician-owned hospitals. Isn’t that correct?

Dr. Miller: I would say that’s one of many components. There’s more history to this issue. I remember sitting at a think tank talking to someone several years ago about hospital consolidation as an issue. We went through the usual levers that us policy wonks go through. We talked about antitrust enforcement, certificate of need, rising hospital costs from consolidation, lower quality (or at least no quality gains, as shown by a New England Journal of Medicine study), and decrements in patient experience that result from the diseconomies of scale. They sort of pooh-poohed many of the policy ideas. They basically said that there was no hope for hospital consolidation as an issue.

Well, what about physician ownership? I started with my research team to comb through the literature and found a variety of studies — some of which were sort of entertaining, because they’d do things like study physician-owned specialty hospitals, nonprofit-owned specialty hospitals, and for-profit specialty hospitals and compare them with nonprofit or for-profit community hospitals, and then say physician-owned hospitals that were specialty were bad.

They mixed ownership and service markets right there in so many ways, I’m not sure where to start. My team did a systematic review of around 30 years of research, looking at the evidence base in this space. We found a couple of things.

We found that physician-owned community hospitals did not have a cost or quality difference, meaning that there was no definitive evidence that the physician-owned community hospitals were cheaper based on historical evidence, which was very old. That means there’s not specific harm from them. When you permit market entry for community hospitals, that promotes competition, which results in lower prices and higher quality.

Then we also looked at the specialty hospital markets — surgical specialty hospitals, orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, and cardiac hospitals. We noted for cardiac hospitals, there wasn’t clear evidence about cost savings, but there was definitive evidence of higher quality, from things like 30-day mortality for significant procedures like treatment of acute MI, triple A repair, stuff like that.

For orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, we noted lower costs and higher quality, which again fits with operationally what we would know. If you have a facility that’s doing 20 total hips a day, you’re creating a focused factory. Just like if you think about it for interventional cardiology, your boards have a minimum number of procedures that you have to do to stay certified because we know about the volume-quality relationship.

Then we looked at general surgical specialty hospitals. There wasn’t enough evidence to make a conclusive thought about costs, and there was a clear trend toward higher quality. I would say this recent study is important, but there is a whole bunch of other literature out there, too.

Exploring the Scope of Emergency Care in Physician-Owned Hospitals

Dr. Glatter: Certainly, your colleague Wang from Johns Hopkins has done important research in this sector. The paper, “Reconsidering the Ban on Physician-Owned Hospitals to Combat Consolidation,” by you and several colleagues, mentions and highlights the issues that you just described. I understand that it’s going to be published in the NYU Journal of Legislation and Public Policy.

One thing I want to bring up — and this is an important issue — is that the risk for patients has been talked about by the American Hospital Association and the Federation of American Hospitals, in terms of limited or no emergency services at such physician-owned hospitals and having to call 911 when patients need emergent care or stabilization. That’s been the rebuttal, along with an Office of Inspector General (OIG) report from 2008. Almost, I guess, three quarters of the patients that needed emergent care got this at publicly funded hospitals.

Dr. Miller: I’m familiar with the argument about emergency care. If you actually go and look at it, it differs by specialty market. Physician-owned community hospitals have ERs because that’s how they get their business. If you are running a hospital medicine floor, a general surgical specialty floor, you have a labor delivery unit, a primary care clinic, and a cardiology clinic. You have all the things that all the other hospitals have. The physician-owned community hospitals almost uniformly have an ER.

When you look at the physician-owned specialty hospitals, it’s a little more granular. If you look at the cardiac hospitals, they have ERs. They also have cardiac ICUs, operating rooms, etc. The area where the hospital industry had concerns — which I think is valid to point out — is that physician-owned orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals don’t have ERs. But this makes sense because of what that hospital functionally is: a factory for whatever the scope of procedures is, be it joint replacements or shoulder arthroscopy. The orthopedic surgical specialty hospital is like an ASC plus several hospital beds. Many of those did not have ERs because clinically it didn’t make sense.

What’s interesting, though, is that the hospital industry also operates specialty hospitals. If you go into many of the large systems, they have cardiac specialty hospitals and cancer specialty hospitals. I would say that some of them have ERs, as they appropriately should, and some of those specialty hospitals do not. They might have a community hospital down the street that’s part of that health system that has an ER, but some of the specialty hospitals don’t necessarily have a dedicated ER.

I agree, that’s a valid concern. I would say, though, the question is, what are the scope of services in that hospital? Is an ER required? Community hospitals should have ERs. It makes sense also for a cardiac hospital to have one. If you’re running a total joint replacement factory, it might not make clinical sense.

Dr. Glatter: The patients who are treated at that hospital, if they do have emergent conditions, need to have board-certified emergency physicians treating them, in my view because I’m an ER physician. Having surgeons that are not emergency physicians staff a department at a specialty orthopedic hospital or, say, a cancer hospital is not acceptable from my standpoint. That›s my opinion and recommendation, coming from emergency medicine.

Dr. Miller: I would say that anesthesiologists are actually highly qualified in critical care. The question is about clinical decompensation; if you’re doing a procedure, you have an anesthesiologist right there who is capable of critical care. The function of the ER is to either serve as a window into the hospital for patient volume or to serve as a referral for emergent complaints.

Dr. Glatter: An anesthesiologist — I’ll take issue with that — does not have the training of an emergency physician in terms of scope of practice.

Dr. Miller: My anesthesiology colleagues would probably disagree for managing an emergency during an operating room case.

Dr. Glatter: Fair enough, but I think in the general sense. The other issue is that, in terms of emergent responses to patients that decompensate, when you have to transfer a patient, that violates Medicare requirements. How is that even a valid issue or argument if you’re going to have to transfer a patient from your specialty hospital? That happens. Again, I know that you’re saying these hospitals are completely independent and can function, stabilize patients, and treat emergencies, but that’s not the reality across the country, in my opinion.

Dr. Miller: I don’t think that’s the case for the physician-owned specialty cardiac hospitals, for starters. Many of those have ICUs in addition to operating rooms as a matter of routine in addition to ERs. I don’t think that’s the case for physician-owned community hospitals, which have ERs, ICUs, medicine floors, and surgical floors. Physician-owned community hospitals are around half the market. Of that remaining market, a significant percentage are cardiac hospitals. If you’re taking an issue with orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals, that’s a clinical operational question that can and should be answered.

I’d also posit that the nonprofit and for-profit hospital industries also operate specialty hospitals. Any of these questions, we shouldn’t just be asking about physician-owned facilities; we should be asking about them across ownership types, because we’re talking about scope of service and quality and safety. The ownership in that case doesn’t matter. The broader question is, are orthopedic surgical specialty hospitals owned by physicians, tax-exempt hospitals, or tax-paying hospitals? Is that a valid clinical business model? Is it safe? Does it meet Medicare conditions of participation? I would say that’s what that question is, because other ownership models do operate those facilities.

Dr. Glatter: You make some valid points, and I do agree on some of them. I think that, ultimately, these models of care, and certainly cost and quality, are issues. Again, it goes back to being able, in my opinion, to provide emergent care, which seems to me a very important issue.

Dr. Miller: I agree that providing emergent care is an issue. It›s an issue in any site of care. The hospital industry posits that all hospital outpatient departments (HOPDs) have emergent care. I can tell you, having worked in HOPDs (I›ve trained in them during residency), the response if something emergent happens is to either call 911 or wheel the patient down to the ER in a wheelchair or stretcher. I think that these hospital claims about emergency care coverage — these are important questions, but we should be asking them across all clinical settings and say what is the appropriate scope of care provided? What is the appropriate level of acuity and ability to provide emergent or critical care? That›s an important question regardless of ownership model across the entire industry.

Deeper Dive Into Data on Physician-Owned Hospitals

Dr. Glatter: We need to really focus on that. I’ll agree with you on that.

There was a March 2023 report from Dobson | DaVanzo. It showed that physician-owned hospitals had lower Medicaid, dual-eligible, and uncompensated care and charity care discharges than full-service acute care hospitals. Physician-owned hospitals had less than half the proportion of Medicaid discharges compared with non–physician-owned hospitals. They were also less likely to care for dual-eligible patients overall compared with non–physician-owned hospitals.

In addition, when COVID hit, the physician-owned hospitals overall — and again, there may be exceptions — were not equipped to handle these patient surges in the acute setting of a public health emergency. There was a hospital in Texas that did pivot that I’m aware of — Renaissance Hospital, which ramped up a long-term care facility to become a COVID hospital — but I think that’s the exception. I think this report raises some valid concerns; I’ll let you rebut that.

Dr. Miller: A couple of things. One, I am not aware that there’s any clear market evidence or a systematic study that shows that physician-owned hospitals had trouble responding to COVID. I don’t think that assertion has been proven. The study was funded by the hospital industry. First of all, it was not a peer-reviewed study; it was funded by an industry that paid a consulting firm. It doesn’t mean that we still shouldn’t read it, but that brings bias into question. The joke in Washington is, pick your favorite statistician or economist, and they can say what you want and have a battle of economists and statisticians.

For example, in that study, they didn’t include the entire ownership universe of physician-owned hospitals. If we go to the peer-reviewed literature, there’s a great 2015 BMJ paper showing that the Medicaid payer mix is actually the same between physician-owned hospitals vs not. The mix of patients by ethnicity — for example, think about African American patients — was the same. I would be more inclined to believe the peer-reviewed literature in BMJ as opposed to an industry-funded study that was not peer-reviewed and not independent and has methodological questions.

Dr. Glatter: Those data are 8 years old, so I’d like to see more recent data. It would be interesting, just as a follow-up to that, to see where the needle has moved — if it has, for that matter — in terms of Medicaid patients that you’re referring to.

Dr. Miller: I tend to be skeptical of all industry research, regardless of who published it, because they have an economic incentive. If they’re selecting certain age groups or excluding certain hospitals, that makes you wonder about the validity of the study. Your job as an industry-funded researcher is that, essentially, you’re being paid to look for an answer. It’s not necessarily an honest evaluation of the data.

Dr. Glatter: I want to bring up another point about the Hospital Readmissions Reduction Program (HRRP) and the data on how physician-owned hospitals compared with acute care hospitals that are non–physician-owned and have you comment on that. The Dobson | DaVanzo study called into question that physician-owned hospitals treat fewer patients who are dual-eligible, which we know.

Dr. Miller: I don’t think we do know that.

Dr. Glatter: There are data that point to that, again, looking at the studies.

Dr. Miller: I’m saying that’s a single study funded by industry as opposed to an independent, academic, peer-reviewed literature paper. That would be like saying, during the debate of the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), that you should read the pharmaceutical industries research but take any of it at pure face value as factual. Yes, we should read it. Yes, we should evaluate it on its own merits. I think, again, appropriately, you need to be concerned when people have an economic incentive.

The question about the HRRP I’m going to take a little broader, because I think that program is unfair to the industry overall. There are many factors that drive hospital readmission. Whether Mrs Smith went home and ate potato chips and then took her Lasix, that’s very much outside of the hospital industry’s control, and there’s some evidence that the HRRP increases mortality in some patient populations.

In terms of a quality metric, it’s unfair to the industry. I think we took an operating process, internal metric for the hospital industry, turned it into a quality metric, and attached it to a financial bonus, which is an inappropriate policy decision.

Rethinking Ownership Models and Empowering Clinicians

Dr. Glatter: I agree with you on that. One thing I do want to bring up is that whether the physician-owned hospitals are subject to many of the quality measures that full-service, acute care hospitals are. That really is, I think, a broader context.

Dr. Miller: Fifty-five percent of physician-owned hospitals are full-service community hospitals, so I would say at least half the market is 100% subject to that.

Dr. Glatter: If only 50% are, that’s already an issue.

Dr. Miller: Cardiac specialty hospitals — which, as I said, nonprofit and for-profit hospital chains also operate — are also subject to the appropriate quality measures, readmissions, etc. Just because we don’t necessarily have the best quality measurement in the system in the country, it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t allow care specialization. As I’d point out, if we’re concerned about specialty hospitals, the concern shouldn’t just be about physician-owned specialty hospitals; it should be about specialty hospitals by and large. Many health systems run cardiac specialty hospitals, cancer specialty hospitals, and orthopedic specialty hospitals. If we’re going to have a discussion about concerns there, it should be about the entire industry of specialty hospitals.

I think specialty hospitals serve an important role in society, allowing for specialization and exploiting in a positive way the volume-quality relationship. Whether those are owned by a for-profit publicly traded company, a tax-exempt facility, or physicians, I think that is an important way to have innovation and care delivery because frankly, we haven’t had much innovation in care delivery. Much of what we do in terms of how we practice clinically hasn’t really changed in the 50 years since my late father graduated from medical school. We still have rounds, we’re still taking notes, we’re still operating in the same way. Many processes are manual. We don’t have the mass production and mass customization of care that we need.

When you have a focused factory, it allows you to design care in a way that drives up quality, not just for the average patient but also the patients at the tail ends, because you have time to focus on that specific service line and that specific patient population.

Physician-owned community hospitals offer an important opportunity for a different employment model. I remember going to the dermatologist and the dermatologist was depressed, shuffling around the room, sad, and I asked him why. He said he didn’t really like his employer, and I said, “Why don’t you pick another one?” He’s like, “There are only two large health systems I can work for. They all have the same clinical practice environment and functionally the same value.”

Physicians are increasingly burned out. They face monopsony power in who purchases their labor. They have little control. They don’t want to go through five committees, seven administrators, and attend 25 meetings just to change a single small process in clinical operations. If you’re an owner operator, you have a much better ability to do it.

Frankly, when many facilities do well now, when they do well clinically and do well financially, who benefits? The hospital administration and the hospital executives. The doctors aren’t benefiting. The nurses aren’t benefiting. The CNA is not benefiting. The secretary is not benefiting. The custodian is not benefiting. Shouldn’t the workers have a right to own and operate the business and do well when the business does well serving the community? That puts me in the weird space of agreeing with both conservatives and progressives.

Dr. Glatter: I agree with you. I think an ownership stake is always attractive. It helps with retention of employed persons. There›s no question that, when they have a stake, when they have skin in the game, they feel more empowered. I will not argue with you about that.

Dr. Miller: We don’t have business models where workers have that option in healthcare. Like the National Academy of Medicine said, one of the key drivers of burnout is the externalization of the locus of control over clinical practice, and the current business operating models guarantee an externalization of the locus of control over clinical practice.

If you actually look at the recent American Medical Association (AMA) meeting, there was a resolution to ban the corporate practice of medicine. They wanted to go more toward the legal professions model where only physicians can own and operate care delivery.

Dr. Glatter: Well, I think the shift is certainly something that the AMA would like and physicians collectively would agree with. Having a better lifestyle and being able to have control are factors in burnout.

Dr. Miller: It’s not just doctors. I think nurses want a better lifestyle. The nurses are treated as interchangeable lines on a spreadsheet. The nurses are an integral part of our clinical team. Why don’t we work together as a clinical unit to build a better delivery system? What better way to do that than to have clinicians in charge of it, right?

My favorite bakery that’s about 30 minutes away is owned by a baker. It is not owned by a large tax-exempt corporation. It’s owned by an owner operator who takes pride in their work. I think that is something that the profession would do well to return to. When I was a resident, one of my colleagues was already planning their retirement. That’s how depressed they were.

I went into medicine to actually care for patients. I think that we can make the world a better place for our patients. What that means is not only treating them with drugs and devices, but also creating a delivery system where they don’t have to wander from lobby to lobby in a 200,000 square-foot facility, wait in line for hours on end, get bills 6 months later, and fill out endless paper forms over and over again.

All of these basic processes in healthcare delivery that are broken could have and should have been fixed — and have been fixed in almost every other industry. I had to replace one of my car tires because I had a flat tire. The local tire shop has an app, and it sends me SMS text messages telling me when my appointment is and when my car is ready. We have solved all of these problems in many other businesses.

We have not solved them in healthcare delivery because, one, we have massive monopolies that are raising prices, have lower quality, and deliver a crappy patient experience, and we have also subjugated the clinical worker into a corporate automaton. We are functionally drones. We don’t have the agency and the authority to improve clinical operations anymore. It’s really depressing, and we should have that option again.

I trust my doctor. I trust the nurses that I work with, and I would like them to help make clinical decisions in a financially responsible and a sensible operational manner. We need to empower our workforce in order to do that so we can recapture the value of what it means to be a clinician again.

The current model of corporate employment: massive scale, more administrators, more processes, more emails, more meetings, more PowerPoint decks, more federal subsidies. The hospital industry has choices. It can improve clinical operations. It can show up in Washington and lobby for increased subsidies. It can invest in the market and not pay taxes for the tax-exempt facilities. Obviously, it makes the logical choices as an economic actor to show up, lobby for increased subsidies, and then also invest in the stock market.

Improving clinical operations is hard. It hasn’t happened. The Bureau of Labor Statistics shows that the private community hospital industry has had flat labor productivity growth, on average, for the past 25 years, and for some years it even declined. This is totally atypical across the economy.

We have failed our clinicians, and most importantly, we have failed our patients. I’ve been sick. My relatives have been sick, waiting hours, not able to get appointments, and redoing forms. It’s a total disaster. It’s time and reasonable to try an alternative ownership and operating model. There are obviously problems. The problems can and should be addressed, but it doesn’t mean that we should have a statutory prohibition on professionals owning and operating their own business.

Dr. Glatter: There was a report that $500 million was saved by limiting or banning or putting a moratorium on physician-owned hospitals by the Congressional Budget Office.

Dr. Miller: Yes, I’m very aware of those data. I’d say that the CBO also is off by 50% on the estimation of the implementation of the Part D program. They overestimated the Affordable Care Act market enrollment by over 10 million people — again, around 50%. They also estimated that the CMS Innovation Center initially would be a savings. Now they’ve re-estimated it as a 10-year expenditure and it has actually cost the taxpayers money.

The CBO is not transparent about what its assumptions are or its analysis and methods. As a researcher, we have to publish our information. It has to go through peer review. I want to know what goes into that $500 million figure — what the assumptions are and what the model is. It’s hard to comment without knowing how they came up with it.

Dr. Glatter: The points you make are very valid. Physicians and nurses want a better lifestyle.

Dr. Miller: It’s not even a better lifestyle. It’s about having a say in how clinical operations work and helping make them better. We want the delivery system to work better. This is an opportunity for us to do so.

Dr. Glatter: That translates into technology: obviously, generative artificial intelligence (AI) coming into the forefront, as we know, and changing care delivery models as you’re referring to, which is going to happen. It’s going to be a slow process. I think that the evolution is happening and will happen, as you accurately described.

Dr. Miller: The other thing that’s different now vs 20 years ago is that managed care is here, there, and everywhere, as Dr Seuss would say. You have utilization review and prior authorization, which I’ve experienced as a patient and a physician, and boy, is it not a fun process. There’s a large amount of friction that needs to be improved. If we’re worried about induced demand or inappropriate utilization, we have managed care right there to help police bad behavior.

Reforming Healthcare Systems and Restoring Patient-Centric Focus

Dr. Glatter: If you were to come up with, say, three bullet points of how we can work our way out of this current morass of where our healthcare systems exist, where do you see the solutions or how can we make and effect change?

Dr. Miller: I’d say there are a couple of things. One is, let business models compete fairly on an equal playing field. Let the physician-owned hospital compete with the tax-exempt hospital and the nonprofit hospital. Put them on an equal playing field. We have things like 340B, which favors tax-exempt hospitals. For-profit or tax-paying hospitals are not able to participate in that. That doesn’t make any sense just from a public policy perspective. Tax-paying hospitals and physician-owned hospitals pay taxes on investments, but tax-exempt hospitals don’t. I think, in public policy, we need to equalize the playing field between business models. Let the best business model win.

The other thing we need to do is to encourage the adoption of technology. The physician will eventually be an arbiter of tech-driven or AI-driven tools. In fact, at some point, the standard of care might be to use those tools. Not using those tools would be seen as negligence. If you think about placing a jugular or central venous catheter, to not use ultrasound would be considered insane. Thirty years ago, to use ultrasound would be considered novel. I think technology and AI will get us to that point of helping make care more efficient and more customized.

Those are the two biggest interventions, I would say. Third, every time we have a conversation in public policy, we need to remember what it is to be a patient. The decision should be driven not around any one industry’s profitability, but what it is to be a patient and how we can make that experience less burdensome, less expensive, or in plain English, suck less.

Dr. Glatter: Safety net hospitals and critical access hospitals are part of this discussion that, yes, we want everything to, in an ideal world, function more efficiently and effectively, with less cost and less red tape. The safety net of our nation is struggling.

Dr. Miller: I 100% agree. The Cook County hospitals of the world are deserving of our support and, frankly, our gratitude. Facilities like that have huge burdens of patients with Medicaid. We also still have millions of uninsured patients. The neighborhoods that they serve are also poorer. I think facilities like that are deserving of public support.

I also think we need to clearly define what those hospitals are. One of the challenges I’ve realized as I waded into this space is that market definitions of what a service market is for a hospital, its specialty type or what a safety net hospital is need to be more clearly defined because those facilities 100% are deserving of our support. We just need to be clear about what they are.

Regarding critical access hospitals, when you practice in a rural area, you have to think differently about care delivery. I’d say many of the rural systems are highly creative in how they structure clinical operations. Before the public health emergency, during the COVID pandemic, when we had a massive change in telehealth, rural hospitals were using — within the very narrow confines — as much telehealth as they could and should.

Rural hospitals also make greater use of nurse practitioners (NPs) and physician assistants (PAs). For many of the specialty services, I remember, your first call was an NP or a PA because the physician was downstairs doing procedures. They’d come up and assess the patient before the procedure, but most of your consult questions were answered by the NP or PA. I’m not saying that’s the model we should use nationwide, but that rural systems are highly innovative and creative; they’re deserving of our time, attention, and support, and frankly, we can learn from them.

Dr. Glatter: I want to thank you for your time and your expertise in this area. We’ll see how the congressional hearings affect the industry as a whole, how the needle moves, and whether the ban or moratorium on physician-owned hospitals continues to exist going forward.

Dr. Miller: I appreciate you having me. The hospital industry is one of the most important industries for health care. This is a time of inflection, right? We need to go back to the value of what it means to be a clinician and serve patients. Hospitals need to reorient themselves around that core concern. How do we help support clinicians — doctors, nurses, pharmacists, whomever it is — in serving patients? Hospitals have become too corporate, so I think that this is an expected pushback.

Dr. Glatter: Again, I want to thank you for your time. This was a very important discussion. Thank you for your expertise.



Robert D. Glatter, MD, is an assistant professor of emergency medicine at Zucker School of Medicine at Hofstra/Northwell in Hempstead, New York. He is a medical advisor for Medscape and hosts the Hot Topics in EM series. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.Brian J. Miller, MD, MBA, MPH, is a hospitalist and an assistant professor of medicine at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine. He is also a nonresident fellow at the American Enterprise Institute. From 2014 to 2017, Dr. Miller worked at four federal regulatory agencies: Federal Trade Commission (FTC), Federal Communications Commission (FCC), Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS), and the Food & Drug Administration (FDA). Dr. Miller disclosed ties with the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission.
 

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Mentoring is universally recognized as a key contributor to a successful career in academic medicine. Most of those who recently transitioned from fellow to faculty got to their current positions with the help of one or more mentors. While many will still need mentoring, coaching, and sponsoring, many are also eager to give back and wonder when and how to make that transition from mentee to mentor. In this article, we will share our journeys, one having made that transition more than three decades earlier, and another at the crossroad shared by our readers.

Dr. Lok: Senior Mentor’s Perspective

I (ASL) completed my hepatology fellowship training in London under Professor Dame Sheila Sherlock. I did not realize how fortunate I was until Dame Sheila’s retirement celebration (2 months before the end of my fellowship) when more than 200 former mentees flew in from all over the world to express their appreciation. Dame Sheila had always embraced all of us as part of the Sherlock family. I benefited tremendously not only from clinical and research training with Dame Sheila and her motherly love that continued well after I completed my fellowship but also the connections and support from my “siblings” who were the Who’s Who in Hepatology.

University of Michigan

My transition from mentee to mentor occurred insidiously after my return to Hong Kong, coaching and collaborating with residents, fellows, and early career faculty in their research projects. A key tip I shared with them was the importance of establishing a robust database and sample repository — a vital element to success as a clinical investigator. Working in a busy clinical environment with no protected time and limited resources, we began by identifying clinical dilemmas that we faced in clinics each day and determined which ones were “solvable” if we dove deep. Through keen observations, protocolized clinical care, and robust data recording, we published in Gastroenterology one of the first prospective studies of hepatitis B reactivation in patients receiving chemotherapy, and it continues to be cited. Many principles in mentoring apply universally. Indeed, one of my most accomplished mentees in Hong Kong is a nephrologist with whom I continue to coauthor topics in UpToDate. This is an example of how mentee-mentor relationship can evolve and last, and how each can learn from the other to provide guidance on multi-disciplinary care of complex medical problems.

I became more involved in mentoring after I moved to the United States. I was first hired as Hepatology Program Director at Tulane University and then at the University of Michigan. These roles gave me a sense of responsibility not just to mentor one resident, fellow, or faculty on a research project but to have a holistic approach, providing the necessary guidance and support to help mentees make the best of their potentials and build successful careers, which in turn allows me to build a world-class program.

Over the years, I have mentored more than 60 trainees from all over the world, some of whom have now become division chiefs, department chairs, and chief medical officers of hospitals. Every mentor has a different style, and I had been criticized for being a “Tiger Mom.” I have mellowed over the years, and I hope I am no longer perceived as a “tiger,” though tough love is crucial in mentoring. I hope I am still considered a “mom,” because I see the role of a mentor as that of a parent, providing unconditional love and support with the only expectation that the mentees try to do their best to maximize their potentials and reach their goals. Mentoring is a time investment. It can be exhausting, frustrating, and heart-breaking. It is rarely recognized, and the time and effort rarely compensated. Thus, one should take on mentoring as a calling, a desire to pay it forward, and an understanding that problems can be solved only when generations of physicians and researchers continue to work on them.

A mentor, just like a parent, helps mentees recognize their potentials — passion, strengths, and weaknesses — and to set ambitious yet realistic goals. A very important role of a mentor is to help mentees determine their short- and long-term goals by guiding them to leverage their strengths and passion toward areas and niches that are important and attainable.

Each goal must be accompanied by a plan on how to get there based on resources available. Here is where tough love comes into play. Because there are so many distractions in life, mentees can veer off and be lost. Research projects (and life) never go exactly as planned, and it is difficult to keep going when projects hit a roadblock and papers and grants are rejected. A mentor must help mentees accept and learn from failures and persevere with renewed commitment or find an alternative path (when it is clear the original path is doomed). The most important role of the mentor is to continue to believe in the mentee. Project failure must not be equated to mentee failure though there are times when it is clear some mentees have their interests and talents in other areas. Helping mentees find an alternative path to success and fulfillment can be a blessing. Indeed, two of my mentees who were successful researchers during their early careers have now become successful chief medical officers of major hospitals. They are happy, and I am very proud of them. Times have changed, so my coauthor, who has been faculty for 3.5 years, will share his journey from mentee to mentor.

Dr. Chen: Early Mentor’s Perspective

I (VLC) completed training in 2020 and have mentored only people who are early in their careers, i.e., medical students, residents, and fellows. My transition from mentee to mentor was primarily motivated by gratitude to my past mentors. Watching my own former trainees move on to the next stages of their careers has been hugely fulfilling. It is important that mentee-mentor relationships are mutually beneficial, and I offer a few points to junior faculty considering taking on trainees as mentees.

Michigan Medicine

Taking on a mentee is a commitment. Take it seriously. While a mentee’s success is ultimately their responsibility, mentors are implicitly agreeing to give them opportunities commensurate to their skills and motivation. If you are not in a position to offer such opportunities, do not accept mentees.

Mentorship takes time. Explaining and reviewing research protocols, reading abstract or manuscript drafts, and meeting with mentees to plan for next steps take more time than one might expect.

Understand what potential mentees want. Most trainees are looking for help making it to the next stage of their career (college to medical school, residency to fellowship, etc.) and need abstracts and/or publications to get there. When I work with residents applying to GI fellowship, the goal is that by the time fellowship applications are submitted (early in third year of residency), they have at a minimum presented an abstract at Digestive Diseases Week (DDW) in their second year and submitted an abstract to the American College of Gastroenterology and/or American Association for the Study of Liver Diseases meetings in their third year. This requires planning to ensure they start working early enough to meet conference abstract deadlines. In my opinion, it is reasonable to give the trainee a less ambitious project or a piece of a larger project (i.e., middle authorship on a paper).

By contrast, for trainees who are seriously interested in a research career, the goal is not superfluous abstracts. Rather it is crucial to ensure that the trainee leads a meaningful project that will be a steppingstone to their future career and/or provide preliminary data to support grant applications. Similarly, training in research methodology should be more rigorous for these mentees.

Recognize the limitations of your circumstances. Early-stage faculty often operate on a shoestring budget and little protected time. Even those with 50% or more protected research time and excellent nursing support will find that the time they spend on patient care extends far beyond the time spent in endoscopy units and clinics. Time management and discipline — including not getting bogged down on low-impact research studies — are essential skills.

Be (slightly) selfish. Make sure that you get something out of the mentee as well. Ask yourself:

Do I have work they can help me with? Avoid creating projects simply to give a trainee something to do. It is much better to have them work on a project that you want to do anyway.

How do the trainee’s skills fit in with the type of work that I do? A trainee with no background in statistics may not be able to conduct analyses but may be able to do chart reviews.

Consider “testing” a potential mentee by assigning a limited, straightforward task. If the mentee completes this quickly and to a high standard, then move on to progressively more important or high-stakes projects.

Set concrete and realistic expectations, keeping in mind that trainees have other commitments such as classes and clinical rotations.

Serving as a mentor to the next generation of gastroenterologists is a privilege that junior faculty should not take lightly, and an opportunity for a symbiotic relationship.

Dr. Chen and Dr. Lok are with the Division of Gastroenterology and Hepatology, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Michigan. They have no financial conflicts related to this article.

Mentoring is universally recognized as a key contributor to a successful career in academic medicine. Most of those who recently transitioned from fellow to faculty got to their current positions with the help of one or more mentors. While many will still need mentoring, coaching, and sponsoring, many are also eager to give back and wonder when and how to make that transition from mentee to mentor. In this article, we will share our journeys, one having made that transition more than three decades earlier, and another at the crossroad shared by our readers.

Dr. Lok: Senior Mentor’s Perspective

I (ASL) completed my hepatology fellowship training in London under Professor Dame Sheila Sherlock. I did not realize how fortunate I was until Dame Sheila’s retirement celebration (2 months before the end of my fellowship) when more than 200 former mentees flew in from all over the world to express their appreciation. Dame Sheila had always embraced all of us as part of the Sherlock family. I benefited tremendously not only from clinical and research training with Dame Sheila and her motherly love that continued well after I completed my fellowship but also the connections and support from my “siblings” who were the Who’s Who in Hepatology.

University of Michigan

My transition from mentee to mentor occurred insidiously after my return to Hong Kong, coaching and collaborating with residents, fellows, and early career faculty in their research projects. A key tip I shared with them was the importance of establishing a robust database and sample repository — a vital element to success as a clinical investigator. Working in a busy clinical environment with no protected time and limited resources, we began by identifying clinical dilemmas that we faced in clinics each day and determined which ones were “solvable” if we dove deep. Through keen observations, protocolized clinical care, and robust data recording, we published in Gastroenterology one of the first prospective studies of hepatitis B reactivation in patients receiving chemotherapy, and it continues to be cited. Many principles in mentoring apply universally. Indeed, one of my most accomplished mentees in Hong Kong is a nephrologist with whom I continue to coauthor topics in UpToDate. This is an example of how mentee-mentor relationship can evolve and last, and how each can learn from the other to provide guidance on multi-disciplinary care of complex medical problems.

I became more involved in mentoring after I moved to the United States. I was first hired as Hepatology Program Director at Tulane University and then at the University of Michigan. These roles gave me a sense of responsibility not just to mentor one resident, fellow, or faculty on a research project but to have a holistic approach, providing the necessary guidance and support to help mentees make the best of their potentials and build successful careers, which in turn allows me to build a world-class program.

Over the years, I have mentored more than 60 trainees from all over the world, some of whom have now become division chiefs, department chairs, and chief medical officers of hospitals. Every mentor has a different style, and I had been criticized for being a “Tiger Mom.” I have mellowed over the years, and I hope I am no longer perceived as a “tiger,” though tough love is crucial in mentoring. I hope I am still considered a “mom,” because I see the role of a mentor as that of a parent, providing unconditional love and support with the only expectation that the mentees try to do their best to maximize their potentials and reach their goals. Mentoring is a time investment. It can be exhausting, frustrating, and heart-breaking. It is rarely recognized, and the time and effort rarely compensated. Thus, one should take on mentoring as a calling, a desire to pay it forward, and an understanding that problems can be solved only when generations of physicians and researchers continue to work on them.

A mentor, just like a parent, helps mentees recognize their potentials — passion, strengths, and weaknesses — and to set ambitious yet realistic goals. A very important role of a mentor is to help mentees determine their short- and long-term goals by guiding them to leverage their strengths and passion toward areas and niches that are important and attainable.

Each goal must be accompanied by a plan on how to get there based on resources available. Here is where tough love comes into play. Because there are so many distractions in life, mentees can veer off and be lost. Research projects (and life) never go exactly as planned, and it is difficult to keep going when projects hit a roadblock and papers and grants are rejected. A mentor must help mentees accept and learn from failures and persevere with renewed commitment or find an alternative path (when it is clear the original path is doomed). The most important role of the mentor is to continue to believe in the mentee. Project failure must not be equated to mentee failure though there are times when it is clear some mentees have their interests and talents in other areas. Helping mentees find an alternative path to success and fulfillment can be a blessing. Indeed, two of my mentees who were successful researchers during their early careers have now become successful chief medical officers of major hospitals. They are happy, and I am very proud of them. Times have changed, so my coauthor, who has been faculty for 3.5 years, will share his journey from mentee to mentor.

Dr. Chen: Early Mentor’s Perspective

I (VLC) completed training in 2020 and have mentored only people who are early in their careers, i.e., medical students, residents, and fellows. My transition from mentee to mentor was primarily motivated by gratitude to my past mentors. Watching my own former trainees move on to the next stages of their careers has been hugely fulfilling. It is important that mentee-mentor relationships are mutually beneficial, and I offer a few points to junior faculty considering taking on trainees as mentees.

Michigan Medicine

Taking on a mentee is a commitment. Take it seriously. While a mentee’s success is ultimately their responsibility, mentors are implicitly agreeing to give them opportunities commensurate to their skills and motivation. If you are not in a position to offer such opportunities, do not accept mentees.

Mentorship takes time. Explaining and reviewing research protocols, reading abstract or manuscript drafts, and meeting with mentees to plan for next steps take more time than one might expect.

Understand what potential mentees want. Most trainees are looking for help making it to the next stage of their career (college to medical school, residency to fellowship, etc.) and need abstracts and/or publications to get there. When I work with residents applying to GI fellowship, the goal is that by the time fellowship applications are submitted (early in third year of residency), they have at a minimum presented an abstract at Digestive Diseases Week (DDW) in their second year and submitted an abstract to the American College of Gastroenterology and/or American Association for the Study of Liver Diseases meetings in their third year. This requires planning to ensure they start working early enough to meet conference abstract deadlines. In my opinion, it is reasonable to give the trainee a less ambitious project or a piece of a larger project (i.e., middle authorship on a paper).

By contrast, for trainees who are seriously interested in a research career, the goal is not superfluous abstracts. Rather it is crucial to ensure that the trainee leads a meaningful project that will be a steppingstone to their future career and/or provide preliminary data to support grant applications. Similarly, training in research methodology should be more rigorous for these mentees.

Recognize the limitations of your circumstances. Early-stage faculty often operate on a shoestring budget and little protected time. Even those with 50% or more protected research time and excellent nursing support will find that the time they spend on patient care extends far beyond the time spent in endoscopy units and clinics. Time management and discipline — including not getting bogged down on low-impact research studies — are essential skills.

Be (slightly) selfish. Make sure that you get something out of the mentee as well. Ask yourself:

Do I have work they can help me with? Avoid creating projects simply to give a trainee something to do. It is much better to have them work on a project that you want to do anyway.

How do the trainee’s skills fit in with the type of work that I do? A trainee with no background in statistics may not be able to conduct analyses but may be able to do chart reviews.

Consider “testing” a potential mentee by assigning a limited, straightforward task. If the mentee completes this quickly and to a high standard, then move on to progressively more important or high-stakes projects.

Set concrete and realistic expectations, keeping in mind that trainees have other commitments such as classes and clinical rotations.

Serving as a mentor to the next generation of gastroenterologists is a privilege that junior faculty should not take lightly, and an opportunity for a symbiotic relationship.

Dr. Chen and Dr. Lok are with the Division of Gastroenterology and Hepatology, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Michigan. They have no financial conflicts related to this article.

Mentoring is universally recognized as a key contributor to a successful career in academic medicine. Most of those who recently transitioned from fellow to faculty got to their current positions with the help of one or more mentors. While many will still need mentoring, coaching, and sponsoring, many are also eager to give back and wonder when and how to make that transition from mentee to mentor. In this article, we will share our journeys, one having made that transition more than three decades earlier, and another at the crossroad shared by our readers.

Dr. Lok: Senior Mentor’s Perspective

I (ASL) completed my hepatology fellowship training in London under Professor Dame Sheila Sherlock. I did not realize how fortunate I was until Dame Sheila’s retirement celebration (2 months before the end of my fellowship) when more than 200 former mentees flew in from all over the world to express their appreciation. Dame Sheila had always embraced all of us as part of the Sherlock family. I benefited tremendously not only from clinical and research training with Dame Sheila and her motherly love that continued well after I completed my fellowship but also the connections and support from my “siblings” who were the Who’s Who in Hepatology.

University of Michigan

My transition from mentee to mentor occurred insidiously after my return to Hong Kong, coaching and collaborating with residents, fellows, and early career faculty in their research projects. A key tip I shared with them was the importance of establishing a robust database and sample repository — a vital element to success as a clinical investigator. Working in a busy clinical environment with no protected time and limited resources, we began by identifying clinical dilemmas that we faced in clinics each day and determined which ones were “solvable” if we dove deep. Through keen observations, protocolized clinical care, and robust data recording, we published in Gastroenterology one of the first prospective studies of hepatitis B reactivation in patients receiving chemotherapy, and it continues to be cited. Many principles in mentoring apply universally. Indeed, one of my most accomplished mentees in Hong Kong is a nephrologist with whom I continue to coauthor topics in UpToDate. This is an example of how mentee-mentor relationship can evolve and last, and how each can learn from the other to provide guidance on multi-disciplinary care of complex medical problems.

I became more involved in mentoring after I moved to the United States. I was first hired as Hepatology Program Director at Tulane University and then at the University of Michigan. These roles gave me a sense of responsibility not just to mentor one resident, fellow, or faculty on a research project but to have a holistic approach, providing the necessary guidance and support to help mentees make the best of their potentials and build successful careers, which in turn allows me to build a world-class program.

Over the years, I have mentored more than 60 trainees from all over the world, some of whom have now become division chiefs, department chairs, and chief medical officers of hospitals. Every mentor has a different style, and I had been criticized for being a “Tiger Mom.” I have mellowed over the years, and I hope I am no longer perceived as a “tiger,” though tough love is crucial in mentoring. I hope I am still considered a “mom,” because I see the role of a mentor as that of a parent, providing unconditional love and support with the only expectation that the mentees try to do their best to maximize their potentials and reach their goals. Mentoring is a time investment. It can be exhausting, frustrating, and heart-breaking. It is rarely recognized, and the time and effort rarely compensated. Thus, one should take on mentoring as a calling, a desire to pay it forward, and an understanding that problems can be solved only when generations of physicians and researchers continue to work on them.

A mentor, just like a parent, helps mentees recognize their potentials — passion, strengths, and weaknesses — and to set ambitious yet realistic goals. A very important role of a mentor is to help mentees determine their short- and long-term goals by guiding them to leverage their strengths and passion toward areas and niches that are important and attainable.

Each goal must be accompanied by a plan on how to get there based on resources available. Here is where tough love comes into play. Because there are so many distractions in life, mentees can veer off and be lost. Research projects (and life) never go exactly as planned, and it is difficult to keep going when projects hit a roadblock and papers and grants are rejected. A mentor must help mentees accept and learn from failures and persevere with renewed commitment or find an alternative path (when it is clear the original path is doomed). The most important role of the mentor is to continue to believe in the mentee. Project failure must not be equated to mentee failure though there are times when it is clear some mentees have their interests and talents in other areas. Helping mentees find an alternative path to success and fulfillment can be a blessing. Indeed, two of my mentees who were successful researchers during their early careers have now become successful chief medical officers of major hospitals. They are happy, and I am very proud of them. Times have changed, so my coauthor, who has been faculty for 3.5 years, will share his journey from mentee to mentor.

Dr. Chen: Early Mentor’s Perspective

I (VLC) completed training in 2020 and have mentored only people who are early in their careers, i.e., medical students, residents, and fellows. My transition from mentee to mentor was primarily motivated by gratitude to my past mentors. Watching my own former trainees move on to the next stages of their careers has been hugely fulfilling. It is important that mentee-mentor relationships are mutually beneficial, and I offer a few points to junior faculty considering taking on trainees as mentees.

Michigan Medicine

Taking on a mentee is a commitment. Take it seriously. While a mentee’s success is ultimately their responsibility, mentors are implicitly agreeing to give them opportunities commensurate to their skills and motivation. If you are not in a position to offer such opportunities, do not accept mentees.

Mentorship takes time. Explaining and reviewing research protocols, reading abstract or manuscript drafts, and meeting with mentees to plan for next steps take more time than one might expect.

Understand what potential mentees want. Most trainees are looking for help making it to the next stage of their career (college to medical school, residency to fellowship, etc.) and need abstracts and/or publications to get there. When I work with residents applying to GI fellowship, the goal is that by the time fellowship applications are submitted (early in third year of residency), they have at a minimum presented an abstract at Digestive Diseases Week (DDW) in their second year and submitted an abstract to the American College of Gastroenterology and/or American Association for the Study of Liver Diseases meetings in their third year. This requires planning to ensure they start working early enough to meet conference abstract deadlines. In my opinion, it is reasonable to give the trainee a less ambitious project or a piece of a larger project (i.e., middle authorship on a paper).

By contrast, for trainees who are seriously interested in a research career, the goal is not superfluous abstracts. Rather it is crucial to ensure that the trainee leads a meaningful project that will be a steppingstone to their future career and/or provide preliminary data to support grant applications. Similarly, training in research methodology should be more rigorous for these mentees.

Recognize the limitations of your circumstances. Early-stage faculty often operate on a shoestring budget and little protected time. Even those with 50% or more protected research time and excellent nursing support will find that the time they spend on patient care extends far beyond the time spent in endoscopy units and clinics. Time management and discipline — including not getting bogged down on low-impact research studies — are essential skills.

Be (slightly) selfish. Make sure that you get something out of the mentee as well. Ask yourself:

Do I have work they can help me with? Avoid creating projects simply to give a trainee something to do. It is much better to have them work on a project that you want to do anyway.

How do the trainee’s skills fit in with the type of work that I do? A trainee with no background in statistics may not be able to conduct analyses but may be able to do chart reviews.

Consider “testing” a potential mentee by assigning a limited, straightforward task. If the mentee completes this quickly and to a high standard, then move on to progressively more important or high-stakes projects.

Set concrete and realistic expectations, keeping in mind that trainees have other commitments such as classes and clinical rotations.

Serving as a mentor to the next generation of gastroenterologists is a privilege that junior faculty should not take lightly, and an opportunity for a symbiotic relationship.

Dr. Chen and Dr. Lok are with the Division of Gastroenterology and Hepatology, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Michigan. They have no financial conflicts related to this article.

You’re familiar with DIY and DUI, but what associations do the initials DEI trigger in your thought processor? Your college is probably influenced by it. So is your medical school, as are many of the businesses whose advertisements bombard you on television and the internet. Your professional association is definitely involved with it.

In the words of one newspaper columnist, DEI is an “ideological framework” whose most recognizable buzz words are “diversity,” “equity,” and “inclusion.” In the case of the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP), DEI has taken the form of a hiring philosophy that accepts and respects its responsibility to create a workplace “where each person can fully contribute to the shared mission without discrimination or intimidation and each person is respected, supported, and provided the equal opportunity, regardless of race, ethnicity, ancestry, national origin, religion, gender, marital status, sexual orientation, gender identity, or expression age, veteran status, immigration status, or disability.”.

As an organization representing its members, the AAP has issued a statement: “Celebrating the diversity of children and families and promoting nurturing, inclusive environments means actively opposing intolerance, bigotry, bias and discrimination” Further, the AAP says it is committed to using policy, advocacy, and education to encourage inclusivity and cultural effectiveness for all.”. Included in its recommendations to fulfill this commitment are efforts to diversify the pediatric workforce and eliminate race-based medicine.

For the AAP, its commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion seems to be a good fit. The first line of its mission statement — “to attain optimal physical, mental, and social health and well-being for all infants, children, adolescents and young adults” — is well focused and one that its members can agree upon. However, we are beginning to see and hear that on some college and university campuses DEI has worn out its welcome.

In academia, the decision to include a broad mix of students and faculty with diverse backgrounds and at the same time provide opportunities equitably has hit some serious bumps in the road. It’s unclear how much the chaos in the Middle East is to blame, However, for several years there have been unfortunate campus incidents when the invitation of controversial guest speakers has laid bare the widely different interpretations of exactly what “free speech” means.

From its hazy inception, DEI has been missing one key ingredient — commonality. If we are going to actively seek to include individuals from a variety of backgrounds, encourage them to celebrate their diversity, and offer them equitable opportunities, then at the same time we must make it clear that our overriding goal is to seek and encourage the civil discussion of what we all have in common. Neglecting this additional step of promoting commonality is a grave mistake.

One mustn’t be surprised that a group of individuals from diverse backgrounds will have differing opinions. Finding common ground will predictably be a challenge, but it can be done. It requires compromise and a commitment to civil discussion. Regrettably, DEI as a framework places so much emphasis on the individual and diversity that the critical concept of commonality has been lost. Ironically, true inclusion and equity can’t occur without a reverence for commonality.

The AAP has done a good job of folding DEI into fulfilling the first sentence of its mission statement. However, it must not lose sight of the critical ingredient of commonality as it seeks to “support the professional needs of its members” (the second sentence of its mission). Despite a general agreement on the goal of providing care for all children, there are differences of opinion among its members when it comes to some of the details. The confusing topic of gender-affirmative care comes to mind. I am confident that as a group of thoughtful professionals, even in the face of wide differences, we can see the way to civil and productive discussions in the search for commonality.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You’re familiar with DIY and DUI, but what associations do the initials DEI trigger in your thought processor? Your college is probably influenced by it. So is your medical school, as are many of the businesses whose advertisements bombard you on television and the internet. Your professional association is definitely involved with it.

In the words of one newspaper columnist, DEI is an “ideological framework” whose most recognizable buzz words are “diversity,” “equity,” and “inclusion.” In the case of the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP), DEI has taken the form of a hiring philosophy that accepts and respects its responsibility to create a workplace “where each person can fully contribute to the shared mission without discrimination or intimidation and each person is respected, supported, and provided the equal opportunity, regardless of race, ethnicity, ancestry, national origin, religion, gender, marital status, sexual orientation, gender identity, or expression age, veteran status, immigration status, or disability.”.

As an organization representing its members, the AAP has issued a statement: “Celebrating the diversity of children and families and promoting nurturing, inclusive environments means actively opposing intolerance, bigotry, bias and discrimination” Further, the AAP says it is committed to using policy, advocacy, and education to encourage inclusivity and cultural effectiveness for all.”. Included in its recommendations to fulfill this commitment are efforts to diversify the pediatric workforce and eliminate race-based medicine.

For the AAP, its commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion seems to be a good fit. The first line of its mission statement — “to attain optimal physical, mental, and social health and well-being for all infants, children, adolescents and young adults” — is well focused and one that its members can agree upon. However, we are beginning to see and hear that on some college and university campuses DEI has worn out its welcome.

In academia, the decision to include a broad mix of students and faculty with diverse backgrounds and at the same time provide opportunities equitably has hit some serious bumps in the road. It’s unclear how much the chaos in the Middle East is to blame, However, for several years there have been unfortunate campus incidents when the invitation of controversial guest speakers has laid bare the widely different interpretations of exactly what “free speech” means.

From its hazy inception, DEI has been missing one key ingredient — commonality. If we are going to actively seek to include individuals from a variety of backgrounds, encourage them to celebrate their diversity, and offer them equitable opportunities, then at the same time we must make it clear that our overriding goal is to seek and encourage the civil discussion of what we all have in common. Neglecting this additional step of promoting commonality is a grave mistake.

One mustn’t be surprised that a group of individuals from diverse backgrounds will have differing opinions. Finding common ground will predictably be a challenge, but it can be done. It requires compromise and a commitment to civil discussion. Regrettably, DEI as a framework places so much emphasis on the individual and diversity that the critical concept of commonality has been lost. Ironically, true inclusion and equity can’t occur without a reverence for commonality.

The AAP has done a good job of folding DEI into fulfilling the first sentence of its mission statement. However, it must not lose sight of the critical ingredient of commonality as it seeks to “support the professional needs of its members” (the second sentence of its mission). Despite a general agreement on the goal of providing care for all children, there are differences of opinion among its members when it comes to some of the details. The confusing topic of gender-affirmative care comes to mind. I am confident that as a group of thoughtful professionals, even in the face of wide differences, we can see the way to civil and productive discussions in the search for commonality.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You’re familiar with DIY and DUI, but what associations do the initials DEI trigger in your thought processor? Your college is probably influenced by it. So is your medical school, as are many of the businesses whose advertisements bombard you on television and the internet. Your professional association is definitely involved with it.

In the words of one newspaper columnist, DEI is an “ideological framework” whose most recognizable buzz words are “diversity,” “equity,” and “inclusion.” In the case of the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP), DEI has taken the form of a hiring philosophy that accepts and respects its responsibility to create a workplace “where each person can fully contribute to the shared mission without discrimination or intimidation and each person is respected, supported, and provided the equal opportunity, regardless of race, ethnicity, ancestry, national origin, religion, gender, marital status, sexual orientation, gender identity, or expression age, veteran status, immigration status, or disability.”.

As an organization representing its members, the AAP has issued a statement: “Celebrating the diversity of children and families and promoting nurturing, inclusive environments means actively opposing intolerance, bigotry, bias and discrimination” Further, the AAP says it is committed to using policy, advocacy, and education to encourage inclusivity and cultural effectiveness for all.”. Included in its recommendations to fulfill this commitment are efforts to diversify the pediatric workforce and eliminate race-based medicine.

For the AAP, its commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion seems to be a good fit. The first line of its mission statement — “to attain optimal physical, mental, and social health and well-being for all infants, children, adolescents and young adults” — is well focused and one that its members can agree upon. However, we are beginning to see and hear that on some college and university campuses DEI has worn out its welcome.

In academia, the decision to include a broad mix of students and faculty with diverse backgrounds and at the same time provide opportunities equitably has hit some serious bumps in the road. It’s unclear how much the chaos in the Middle East is to blame, However, for several years there have been unfortunate campus incidents when the invitation of controversial guest speakers has laid bare the widely different interpretations of exactly what “free speech” means.

From its hazy inception, DEI has been missing one key ingredient — commonality. If we are going to actively seek to include individuals from a variety of backgrounds, encourage them to celebrate their diversity, and offer them equitable opportunities, then at the same time we must make it clear that our overriding goal is to seek and encourage the civil discussion of what we all have in common. Neglecting this additional step of promoting commonality is a grave mistake.

One mustn’t be surprised that a group of individuals from diverse backgrounds will have differing opinions. Finding common ground will predictably be a challenge, but it can be done. It requires compromise and a commitment to civil discussion. Regrettably, DEI as a framework places so much emphasis on the individual and diversity that the critical concept of commonality has been lost. Ironically, true inclusion and equity can’t occur without a reverence for commonality.

The AAP has done a good job of folding DEI into fulfilling the first sentence of its mission statement. However, it must not lose sight of the critical ingredient of commonality as it seeks to “support the professional needs of its members” (the second sentence of its mission). Despite a general agreement on the goal of providing care for all children, there are differences of opinion among its members when it comes to some of the details. The confusing topic of gender-affirmative care comes to mind. I am confident that as a group of thoughtful professionals, even in the face of wide differences, we can see the way to civil and productive discussions in the search for commonality.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

This is Dr. JoAnn Manson, professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School and Brigham and Women’s Hospital. I’d like to talk about a recent report in the journal Hypertension that raises questions about whether blood pressure (BP) guidelines should be revisited and whether sex-specific thresholds and targets should be considered. Current BP guidelines are sex-agnostic.

This study was done in the large-scale nationally representative NHANES cohort. It included more than 53,000 US men and women. The average age was about 45 years, with an average duration of follow-up of 9.5 years. During that time, about 2400 cardiovascular (CVD) deaths were documented at baseline. The BP was measured three times, and the results were averaged. About 20% of the cohort were taking antihypertensive medications, and 80% were not.

Sex differences were observed in the association between BP and CVD mortality. The systolic BP associated with the lowest risk for CVD death was 110-119 mm Hg in men and 100-109 mm Hg in women. In men, however, compared with a reference category of systolic BP of 100-109 mm Hg, the risk for CVD death began to increase significantly at a systolic BP ≥ 160 mm Hg, at which point, the hazard ratio was 1.76, or 76% higher risk.

In women, the risk for CVD death began to increase significantly at a lower threshold. Compared with a reference category of systolic BP of 100-109 mm Hg, women whose systolic BP was 130-139 mm Hg had a significant 61% increase in CVD death, and among those with a systolic BP of 140-159 mm Hg, the risk was increased by 75%. With a systolic BP ≥ 160 mm Hg, CVD deaths among women were more than doubled, with a hazard ratio of 2.13.

Overall, these findings suggest sex differences, with women having an increased risk for CVD death beginning at a lower elevation of their systolic BP. For diastolic BP, both men and women showed the typical U-shaped curve and the diastolic BP associated with the lowest risk for CVD death was 70-80 mm Hg.

If these findings can be replicated with additional research and other large-scale cohort studies, and randomized trials show differences in lowering BP, then sex-specific BP guidelines could have advantages and should be seriously considered. Furthermore, some of the CVD risk scores and risk modeling should perhaps use sex-specific blood pressure thresholds.Dr. Manson received study pill donation and infrastructure support from Mars Symbioscience (for the COSMOS trial).

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

This is Dr. JoAnn Manson, professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School and Brigham and Women’s Hospital. I’d like to talk about a recent report in the journal Hypertension that raises questions about whether blood pressure (BP) guidelines should be revisited and whether sex-specific thresholds and targets should be considered. Current BP guidelines are sex-agnostic.

This study was done in the large-scale nationally representative NHANES cohort. It included more than 53,000 US men and women. The average age was about 45 years, with an average duration of follow-up of 9.5 years. During that time, about 2400 cardiovascular (CVD) deaths were documented at baseline. The BP was measured three times, and the results were averaged. About 20% of the cohort were taking antihypertensive medications, and 80% were not.

Sex differences were observed in the association between BP and CVD mortality. The systolic BP associated with the lowest risk for CVD death was 110-119 mm Hg in men and 100-109 mm Hg in women. In men, however, compared with a reference category of systolic BP of 100-109 mm Hg, the risk for CVD death began to increase significantly at a systolic BP ≥ 160 mm Hg, at which point, the hazard ratio was 1.76, or 76% higher risk.

In women, the risk for CVD death began to increase significantly at a lower threshold. Compared with a reference category of systolic BP of 100-109 mm Hg, women whose systolic BP was 130-139 mm Hg had a significant 61% increase in CVD death, and among those with a systolic BP of 140-159 mm Hg, the risk was increased by 75%. With a systolic BP ≥ 160 mm Hg, CVD deaths among women were more than doubled, with a hazard ratio of 2.13.

Overall, these findings suggest sex differences, with women having an increased risk for CVD death beginning at a lower elevation of their systolic BP. For diastolic BP, both men and women showed the typical U-shaped curve and the diastolic BP associated with the lowest risk for CVD death was 70-80 mm Hg.

If these findings can be replicated with additional research and other large-scale cohort studies, and randomized trials show differences in lowering BP, then sex-specific BP guidelines could have advantages and should be seriously considered. Furthermore, some of the CVD risk scores and risk modeling should perhaps use sex-specific blood pressure thresholds.Dr. Manson received study pill donation and infrastructure support from Mars Symbioscience (for the COSMOS trial).

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

This is Dr. JoAnn Manson, professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School and Brigham and Women’s Hospital. I’d like to talk about a recent report in the journal Hypertension that raises questions about whether blood pressure (BP) guidelines should be revisited and whether sex-specific thresholds and targets should be considered. Current BP guidelines are sex-agnostic.

This study was done in the large-scale nationally representative NHANES cohort. It included more than 53,000 US men and women. The average age was about 45 years, with an average duration of follow-up of 9.5 years. During that time, about 2400 cardiovascular (CVD) deaths were documented at baseline. The BP was measured three times, and the results were averaged. About 20% of the cohort were taking antihypertensive medications, and 80% were not.

Sex differences were observed in the association between BP and CVD mortality. The systolic BP associated with the lowest risk for CVD death was 110-119 mm Hg in men and 100-109 mm Hg in women. In men, however, compared with a reference category of systolic BP of 100-109 mm Hg, the risk for CVD death began to increase significantly at a systolic BP ≥ 160 mm Hg, at which point, the hazard ratio was 1.76, or 76% higher risk.

In women, the risk for CVD death began to increase significantly at a lower threshold. Compared with a reference category of systolic BP of 100-109 mm Hg, women whose systolic BP was 130-139 mm Hg had a significant 61% increase in CVD death, and among those with a systolic BP of 140-159 mm Hg, the risk was increased by 75%. With a systolic BP ≥ 160 mm Hg, CVD deaths among women were more than doubled, with a hazard ratio of 2.13.

Overall, these findings suggest sex differences, with women having an increased risk for CVD death beginning at a lower elevation of their systolic BP. For diastolic BP, both men and women showed the typical U-shaped curve and the diastolic BP associated with the lowest risk for CVD death was 70-80 mm Hg.

If these findings can be replicated with additional research and other large-scale cohort studies, and randomized trials show differences in lowering BP, then sex-specific BP guidelines could have advantages and should be seriously considered. Furthermore, some of the CVD risk scores and risk modeling should perhaps use sex-specific blood pressure thresholds.Dr. Manson received study pill donation and infrastructure support from Mars Symbioscience (for the COSMOS trial).

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

‘Twas the night before Festivus and all through the house, everyone was griping.

In case you’ve only been watching Friends reruns lately, Festivus is a holiday that originated 25 years ago in the last season of Seinfeld. George’s father created it as an alternative to Christmas hype. In addition to an aluminum pole, the holiday features the annual airing of grievances, when one is encouraged to voice complaints. Aluminum poles haven’t replaced Christmas trees, but the spirit of Festivus is still with us in the widespread airing of grievances in 2023.

Kaiser Permanente

Complaining isn’t just a post-pandemic problem. Hector spends quite a bit of time complaining about Paris in the Iliad. That was a few pandemics ago. And repining is ubiquitous in literature — as human as walking on two limbs it seems. Ostensibly, we complain to effect change: Something is wrong and we expect it to be different. But that’s not the whole story. No one believes the weather will improve or the Patriots will play better because we complain about them. So why do we bother?

Even if nothing changes on the outside, it does seem to alter our internal state, serving a healthy psychological function. Putting to words what is aggravating can have the same benefit of deep breathing. We describe it as “getting something off our chest” because that’s what it feels like. We feel unburdened just by saying it out loud. Complaining is also a way to bond with others. We have a strong instinct to be with people like ourselves and what better way to connect than to find common suffering? Think about the last time you complained: Cranky staff, prior auths, Medicare, disrespectful patients, many of your colleagues will nod in agreement, validating your feelings and making you feel less isolated.

There are also maladaptive reasons for whining. It’s obviously an elementary way to get attention or to remove responsibility. It can also be a political weapon (office politics included). It’s such a potent way to connect that it’s used to build alliances and clout. “Washington is doing a great job,” said no candidate ever. No, if you want to get people on your side, find something irritating and complain to everyone how annoying it is. This solidifies “us” versus “them,” which can harm organizations and families alike.

Yet, eliminating all complaints is neither feasible, nor probably advisable. You could try to make your office a complaint-free zone, but the likely result would be to push any griping to the remote corners where you can no longer hear them. These criticisms might have uncovered missed opportunities, identify problems, and even improve cohesion if done in a safe and transparent setting. If they are left unaddressed or if the underlying culture isn’t sound, then they can propagate and lead to factions that harm productivity.

Griping is as much part of the holiday season as jingle bells and jelly donuts. I don’t believe complaining is up now because people were grumpier in 2023. Rather I think people just craved connection more than ever. So join in: Traffic after the time change, Tesla service, (super) late patients, prior auths, perioral dermatitis, post-COVID telogen effluvium.

I feel better.

Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on X (formerly Twitter). Write to him at dermnews@mdedge.com.

‘Twas the night before Festivus and all through the house, everyone was griping.

In case you’ve only been watching Friends reruns lately, Festivus is a holiday that originated 25 years ago in the last season of Seinfeld. George’s father created it as an alternative to Christmas hype. In addition to an aluminum pole, the holiday features the annual airing of grievances, when one is encouraged to voice complaints. Aluminum poles haven’t replaced Christmas trees, but the spirit of Festivus is still with us in the widespread airing of grievances in 2023.

Kaiser Permanente

Complaining isn’t just a post-pandemic problem. Hector spends quite a bit of time complaining about Paris in the Iliad. That was a few pandemics ago. And repining is ubiquitous in literature — as human as walking on two limbs it seems. Ostensibly, we complain to effect change: Something is wrong and we expect it to be different. But that’s not the whole story. No one believes the weather will improve or the Patriots will play better because we complain about them. So why do we bother?

Even if nothing changes on the outside, it does seem to alter our internal state, serving a healthy psychological function. Putting to words what is aggravating can have the same benefit of deep breathing. We describe it as “getting something off our chest” because that’s what it feels like. We feel unburdened just by saying it out loud. Complaining is also a way to bond with others. We have a strong instinct to be with people like ourselves and what better way to connect than to find common suffering? Think about the last time you complained: Cranky staff, prior auths, Medicare, disrespectful patients, many of your colleagues will nod in agreement, validating your feelings and making you feel less isolated.

There are also maladaptive reasons for whining. It’s obviously an elementary way to get attention or to remove responsibility. It can also be a political weapon (office politics included). It’s such a potent way to connect that it’s used to build alliances and clout. “Washington is doing a great job,” said no candidate ever. No, if you want to get people on your side, find something irritating and complain to everyone how annoying it is. This solidifies “us” versus “them,” which can harm organizations and families alike.

Yet, eliminating all complaints is neither feasible, nor probably advisable. You could try to make your office a complaint-free zone, but the likely result would be to push any griping to the remote corners where you can no longer hear them. These criticisms might have uncovered missed opportunities, identify problems, and even improve cohesion if done in a safe and transparent setting. If they are left unaddressed or if the underlying culture isn’t sound, then they can propagate and lead to factions that harm productivity.

Griping is as much part of the holiday season as jingle bells and jelly donuts. I don’t believe complaining is up now because people were grumpier in 2023. Rather I think people just craved connection more than ever. So join in: Traffic after the time change, Tesla service, (super) late patients, prior auths, perioral dermatitis, post-COVID telogen effluvium.

I feel better.

Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on X (formerly Twitter). Write to him at dermnews@mdedge.com.

‘Twas the night before Festivus and all through the house, everyone was griping.

In case you’ve only been watching Friends reruns lately, Festivus is a holiday that originated 25 years ago in the last season of Seinfeld. George’s father created it as an alternative to Christmas hype. In addition to an aluminum pole, the holiday features the annual airing of grievances, when one is encouraged to voice complaints. Aluminum poles haven’t replaced Christmas trees, but the spirit of Festivus is still with us in the widespread airing of grievances in 2023.

Kaiser Permanente

Complaining isn’t just a post-pandemic problem. Hector spends quite a bit of time complaining about Paris in the Iliad. That was a few pandemics ago. And repining is ubiquitous in literature — as human as walking on two limbs it seems. Ostensibly, we complain to effect change: Something is wrong and we expect it to be different. But that’s not the whole story. No one believes the weather will improve or the Patriots will play better because we complain about them. So why do we bother?

Even if nothing changes on the outside, it does seem to alter our internal state, serving a healthy psychological function. Putting to words what is aggravating can have the same benefit of deep breathing. We describe it as “getting something off our chest” because that’s what it feels like. We feel unburdened just by saying it out loud. Complaining is also a way to bond with others. We have a strong instinct to be with people like ourselves and what better way to connect than to find common suffering? Think about the last time you complained: Cranky staff, prior auths, Medicare, disrespectful patients, many of your colleagues will nod in agreement, validating your feelings and making you feel less isolated.

There are also maladaptive reasons for whining. It’s obviously an elementary way to get attention or to remove responsibility. It can also be a political weapon (office politics included). It’s such a potent way to connect that it’s used to build alliances and clout. “Washington is doing a great job,” said no candidate ever. No, if you want to get people on your side, find something irritating and complain to everyone how annoying it is. This solidifies “us” versus “them,” which can harm organizations and families alike.

Yet, eliminating all complaints is neither feasible, nor probably advisable. You could try to make your office a complaint-free zone, but the likely result would be to push any griping to the remote corners where you can no longer hear them. These criticisms might have uncovered missed opportunities, identify problems, and even improve cohesion if done in a safe and transparent setting. If they are left unaddressed or if the underlying culture isn’t sound, then they can propagate and lead to factions that harm productivity.

Griping is as much part of the holiday season as jingle bells and jelly donuts. I don’t believe complaining is up now because people were grumpier in 2023. Rather I think people just craved connection more than ever. So join in: Traffic after the time change, Tesla service, (super) late patients, prior auths, perioral dermatitis, post-COVID telogen effluvium.

I feel better.

Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on X (formerly Twitter). Write to him at dermnews@mdedge.com.