Contesting Depression

Social disagreement about the medicalization of experience is intensifying. Psychiatrist Allen Frances complains that the draft DSM is too quick to pathologize grief:

A startling suggestion is buried in the fine print describing proposed changes for the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders — perhaps better known as the D.S.M. 5, the book that will set the new boundary between mental disorder and normality. If this suggestion is adopted, many people who experience completely normal grief could be mislabeled as having a psychiatric problem.

Suppose your spouse or child died two weeks ago and now you feel sad, take less interest and pleasure in things, have little appetite or energy, can’t sleep well and don’t feel like going to work. In the proposal for the D.S.M. 5, your condition would be diagnosed as a major depressive disorder. . . .[This change] would give mentally healthy people the ominous-sounding diagnosis of a major depressive disorder, which in turn could make it harder for them to get a job or health insurance. . . .

Grieving is an unavoidable part of life — the necessary price we all pay for having the ability to love other people. Our lives consist of a series of attachments and inevitable losses, and evolution has given us the emotional tools to handle both.

Moving from the end of life to the beginning, another commentary mentions worries that quiet and listless preschoolers may be pigeonholed as depressed:

Today a number of child psychiatrists and developmental psychologists say depression can surface in children as young as 2 or 3. . . . [But c]lassifying preschool depression as a medical disorder carries a risk of disease-mongering. “Given the influence of Big Pharma, we have to be sure that every time a child’s ice cream falls off the cone and he cries, we don’t label him depressed,” cautions Rahil Briggs, an infant-toddler psychologist at Children’s Hospital at Montefiore in New York.

Though research does not support the use of antidepressants in children this young, medication of preschoolers, often off label, is on the rise. One child psychologist told me about a conference he attended where he met frustrated drug-industry representatives. “They want to give these kids medicines, but we can’t figure out the diagnoses.” As Daniel Klein warns, “Right now the problem may be underdiagnosis, but these things can flip completely.”

Both stories foreshadow larger struggles over the meaning of “health” in risk societies where there is less margin for error or “underperformance” at work or school. Virtually any wealthy New Yorker with small children has a story about the crucial “pre-school interviewing process,” where elite schools can use an hour-long interaction with a child to decide whether or not to accept him or her as a student. On the other end of the income scale, high unemployment means that at-will employees who can’t keep up an adequate reserve of chipper and helpful “can-do” spirit are always at risk of being sacrificed in favor of some member of the reserve corps of unemployed. Business can’t survive if it’s culture is “too nice.” And hiring may end up being driven by whether an “analysis by an organizational psychologist can tell the hirer whether an applicant will have a problem with the manager or team.”

Larger social currents are feeding anxieties about these trends. Some corporate mottos appear to be “get healthy, or else:”

“We have this notion that you can gorge on hot dogs, be in a pie-eating contest, and drink every day, and society will take care of you,” says Harvard Business School Professor Michael E. Porter, who co-authored Redefining Health Care. “We can’t afford to let individuals drive up costs because they’re not willing to address their health problems.”

Hence the wellness fixation at companies as varied as IBM, Microsoft, Harrah’s Entertainment, and Scotts. Employees who voluntarily sign up for such programs often receive discounts on health-care premiums, free weight-loss and smoking-cessation programs, gratis gym memberships, counseling for emotional problems, and prizes like vacations or points that can be redeemed for gift cards.

M. Todd Henderson assures us that “corporate nannies are superior to their state analogs in some cases,” in part because “corporate policies are subjected to more instantaneous feedback from labor markets, which reduces overreaching.” As unemployment climbs and benefits end, that “feedback from labor markets” gets weaker and weaker: employees take whatever job they can find.

What’s the end result of these trends? I can’t predict, but I think Gary Shteyngart’s recent satirical novel provides one template for the workplace of the future. His protagonist, Lenny Abramov, finds that his employer has placed “five gigantic Solari schedule boards” in the office. The boards:

[D]isplayed the names of . . . employees, along with the results of our latest physicals . . . our fasting insulin and triglycerides, and, most important, our ‘mood + stress indicators,’ which were always supposed to read ‘positive/playful/ready to contribute,’ but which, with enough input from competitive co-workers, could be changed to ‘one moody betch today” or ‘not a team playa this month.’ On this particular day . . . one unfortunate Aiden M. was lowered from ‘overcoming the loss of loved one’ to ‘letting personal life interfere with job.’ (57-58)

Ultimately, moods become health problems when they seriously interfere with activities of daily living, including family, work, spirituality, and play. What Shteyngart reminds us is that the demands of work are quite flexible, and always-evolving. Without a robust societal sense of the proper claims of grief and other emotions, economic imperatives are likely to shrink them inexorably. Unlike the film Gattaca, where extant social structures somehow persist in the wake of massive changes in enhancement technology, Shteyngart’s novel describes a world where relatively small changes in self-concept, media use, and aspiration in an elite can fundamentally destabilize societal expectations.

Given the current balance of power between labor and employers, the disciplinary impact of new technology is likely to rise. As Hannah Pitkin puts it, if we are not careful, the very tools invented to reduce suffering may end up increasing it, by making authorities less tolerant of human need:

We have developed astonishing techniques of communication, persuasion, indoctrination, organization. . . . Yet these extraordinary capacities somehow have not made people happy or free or even powerful. . . . We do not direct these, our alleged powers; if anything, they direct us and determine the conditions of our lives, developing with a momentum of their own in ways we cannot foresee and that are often obviously harmful to human life and civilization

The contestation of pre-school and post-death depression concerns fundamental questions about what it means to be human. Circumstances need to be better engineered to accommodate the normal range of human experience. Otherwise a Procrustean drift will result in humans better engineered to to accommodate their circumstances. As Jaron Lanier has written, “When people are told that a computer is intelligent, they become prone to changing themselves in order to make the computer appear to work better, instead of demanding that the computer be changed to become more useful” (36). Perhaps employers without “grief leave” policies should be changed more quickly than employees in search of non-medical solace.

Good News for Health Care Reform Implementation

HCR implementation is steaming ahead. Jonathan Cohn lays out some of the key issues in a recent article in The American Prospect. A restrictive definition of “grandfathered plans” (which are not subject to the Affordable Care Act (ACA)) was an early victory for consumer advocates. Coverage appeal rules will soon be hotly contested during the rulemaking process:

Even if insurers are required to take all comers at relatively nondiscriminatory prices — “relatively” since age can be a rough proxy for medical condition — they’ll still have financial incentives to restrict care. This isn’t entirely a bad thing: Given the evidence of rampant overtreatment in American medicine, insurers should exercise some check on the use of technology, drugs, and other resources, for the sake of the patients as well as the insurers’ bottom line. But because insurers sometimes deny even necessary care, just to increase profit margins, the law seeks to limit the insurers’ authority — most obviously, by opening up treatment denials to outside appeal.

The idea sounds simple enough: Allow patients convinced they’ve been wrongly denied care to make their case to independent experts with authority to overrule the insurer. But who are the experts? How quickly must they rule? And what’s to stop insurers from ignoring the recommendations? The Obama administration has to write regulations answering all of those questions. A viable, working model exists: The National Association of State Insurance Commissioners has a framework, similar to what’s already in place in several states. HHS will consult those guidelines in devising a new scheme. The model is not perfect, but with sufficiently strong regulations it could give consumers significant new leverage.

Cohn also notes some important appointments at HHS. Having examined her work in the past, I was encouraged by the appointment of Karen Pollitz to “set up an Internet portal to provide basic information about different insurance policies.”

Nevertheless, Tim Jost warns that there are many possible obstacles ahead:
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Global Inequality & Access to Health Care

According to a recent study in The Lancet, “The world’s wealthiest two billion people get 75 percent of all the surgery done each year, while the poorest two billion get only 4 percent and often die or live in misery as a result.” It’s a striking fact; how are we to interpret it?

There are two metanarrative accounts of the relationship between inequality and health care. On a Whiggish, optimistic view, vast inequality can generate the capital necessary to fund investment in innovative health care technologies. Scholars like Richard Epstein have celebrated both general economic inequality and unequal access to health care particularly because, they claim, buying power at the top promotes investment in medical advances. On this view, innovations in the wealthy world can diffuse throughout lesser developed regions. Moreover, the rich can also subsidize the poor locally, paying for infrastructure that serves a broader community.

Interpreted less charitably, inequality enables the well-off to bid away resources and opportunities from the poor. Richer nations and persons may snap up limited resources; for instance, in 2009, Jeanne Whalen at the Wall Street Journal wrote an article entitled “Rich Nations Lock In Flu Vaccine as Poor Ones Fret:”

A scramble among wealthy nations to guard against a swine-flu pandemic is raising concerns that billions of people in poorer countries could be left without adequate supplies of vaccine. . . . The emerging battle between the haves and have-nots underscores a major weakness in the global health system: Pharmaceutical companies have severely limited capacity to produce flu vaccines in emergencies.

Inequalities can be even more stark at the R&D phase. If an anti-baldness cure can generate billions of dollars in revenue while a new therapy for tuberculosis only generates hundreds of millions, for-profit pharmaceutical companies may well have a fiduciary duty to invest scarce research dollars in the unhirsute rather than the truly unhealthy.

Lawrence Gostin’s recent article “Redressing the Unconscionable Global Health Gap” offers some practical ways of addressing these disparities:

The international community is deeply resistant to taking bold remedial action — more concerned with their geostrategic interests than the health of the poor. The scale of foreign aid is both insufficient and unsustainable and fails to address the key determinants of health. As a result, the world’s distribution of the “good” of human health remains fundamentally unfair, causing enormous physical and mental suffering by those who experience the compounding disadvantages of poverty and ill health.

Lest we dismiss such inequalities as “not our problem,” Thomas Pogge’s sobering new book elaborates on his earlier argument that wealthier nations are responsible for the plight of the poorest:

[P]olitical and economic inequalities are rising dramatically both intra-nationally and globally. The affluent states and the international organizations they control knowingly contribute greatly to these evils — selfishly promoting rules and policies harmful to the poor while hypocritically pretending to set and promote ambitious development goals.

Both Pogge and Gostin’s work should guide policy responses to the extraordinary disparities exemplified in the Lancet story. As I continue to study fractal inequality in access to medicine, I will be sure to consult their proposals for a more just world. I also hope to see proposals for taxation of “medical tourism” that would redirect at least some of the funds from overseas patients to infrastructure that would support underserved patients in the regions they visit.

Sunlight is a Weak Disinfectant

One of the most robust “memes” in contemporary law is the power of disclosure. In health law, disclosure comes up again and again: patients need to give “informed” consent, insurers are supposed to explain their policies clearly, and conflicts of interest, when not proscribed, should at the very least be exposed. But there are growing challenges to the disclosure meme, both within health law and without.

George Lowenstein and Peter Ubel note some problems with disclosure approaches in this article on the weaknesses of behavioral economics generally:

It seems that every week a new book or major newspaper article appears showing that irrational decision-making helped cause the housing bubble or the rise in health care costs. Such insights draw on behavioral economics, an increasingly popular field that incorporates elements from psychology to explain why people make seemingly irrational decisions, at least according to traditional economic theory and its emphasis on rational choice. . . . But the field has its limits. As policymakers use it to devise programs, it’s becoming clear that behavioral economics is being asked to solve problems it wasn’t meant to address.

[T]ake conflicts of interest in medicine. Despite volumes of research showing that pharmaceutical industry gifts distort decisions by doctors, the medical establishment has not mustered the will to bar such thinly disguised bribes, and the health care reform act fails to outlaw them. Instead, much like food labeling, the act includes “sunshine” provisions that will simply make information about these gifts available to the public. We have shifted the burden from industry, which has the power to change the way it does business, to the relatively uninformed and powerless consumer.

The same pattern can be seen in health care reform itself. The act promises to achieve the admirable goal of insuring most Americans, yet it fails to address the more fundamental problem of health care costs. . . . [T]he act tries to lower costs by promoting incentive programs that reward healthy behaviors. . . . [But s]tudies show that preventive medicine, even when it works, rarely saves money.

At its worst, disclosure can become merely pro forma; as Kafka (via Trudo Lemmens) puts it, “Leopards break into the temple and drink to the dregs what is in the sacrificial pitchers; this is repeated over and over again; finally it can be calculated in advance, and it becomes part of the ceremony.” Omri Ben-Shahar has argued that disclosure is one of many aspects of consumer protection law with little real impact on individual welfare. As Amelia Flood reports,

Ben-Shahar, who spent last summer studying all the mandated disclosure statutes in Illinois, Michigan and California, argues that consumer protection advocates have gotten it wrong when it comes to mandating information access for consumers. He says consumers get lost in a sea of technical language, unread disclaimers and long-shot lawsuits. . . . According to Ben-Shahar, disclosures are of more use to consumer ratings groups like Zagat and Consumer’s Digest than they are to most consumers.

So perhaps there is some hope here: third-party aggregators and raters might use disclosures as part of an overall effort to rate various hospitals or doctors. The question then becomes–who shall pay (and rate) the raters? One irony here is that doctor rating sites have themselves been accused of being insufficiently transparent about the ways in which they evaluate physicians. New York Attorney General Cuomo even pursued the matter. His office eventually settled with insurers who ran rating sites. They pledged to “fully disclose to consumers and physicians all aspects of their ranking system.”

What’s the lesson here? First, that consumers are, by and large, too busy to process piecemeal disclosures by professionals like physicians and other health care providers. Second, third party raters can fill some of this information gap by aggregating information. Third, this process of aggregation and rating itself will likely need to be closely supervised by a good-faith regulator, lest it fail to take into account the full range of interests (and quality of information) proper for the task.

Access to HIV/AIDS Medicines

The Campaign for Access to Essential Medicines explains why UNITAID’s efforts to develop a patent pool of HIV/AIDS treatments are so important:

Meanwhile, the US health care finance system appears to be getting into a bit of a standoff with HIV/AIDS drug makers:

Without reliable access to the medications, which cost patients in the AIDS Drug Assistance Program an average of $12,000 a year, people with H.I.V. are more likely to develop full-blown AIDS, transmit the virus and require expensive hospitalizations. Eleven states have closed enrollment in the federal program, most recently Florida, which has the nation’s third-largest population of people with H.I.V.

The need for programs like the Health Impact Fund is more urgent than ever.

Are GPO’s Suppressing Safer Devices?

S. Prakash Sethi has called group purchasing organizations (GPO’s) an “undisclosed scandal in the U.S. health care industry.” Mariah Blake’s article in the Washington Monthly on GPO’s is a sobering “must-read” for those concerned about the future of health care in the US. She writes about the entrepreneur Thomas Shaw, who’s invented a syringe that drastically reduces the risk of bloodstream infections for patients and healthcare workers. (According to Barry Lynn, who’s also written on the issue, “each year about 6,000 medical workers come down with HIV or infectious hepatitis from such accidents, and dozens end up dead.”) Shaw’s brilliant innovation “added only a few pennies to the cost of production,” but it’s rarely used today. Blake traces the non-diffusion of this innovation to a complex set of deregulatory decisions relating to GPO’s.

GPO’s are supposed to use purchasing clout on behalf of buyers (like hospitals) to drive down prices from sellers. But it appears that these intermediaries, like large Wall Street firms, are often more interested in fees and payments from the sell-side than they are in helping the buy-side. As one analyst testified before the DOJ and FTC, “the compensation of most GPO management is almost always based on . . . fee income [from suppliers] rather than on the real savings to hospital members.”

Shaw’s bad luck was to enter the market shortly after a massive GPO, Premier, struck a multiyear deal with supplier Becton Dickinson. As Blake notes, “Premier signed a $1.8 billion, seven-and-a-half-year deal with Becton Dickinson [whereby its 1700 member hospitals] had to buy 90 percent of their syringes and blood collection tubes from” Becton Dickinson, which also “landed similar deals with all but one major GPO.” Lynn says that “many hospital buying agents won’t even dare to talk to Shaw for fear of upsetting their more powerful suppliers.”

How did the GPO-Supplier nexus grow so strong? Blake does a terrific job explaining developments that transmogrified many cost-cutting intermediaries into self-serving middlemen:

To keep costs in check, in the 1970s many medical facilities began banding together to form group purchasing organizations, or GPOs. The underlying idea was simple: because suppliers generally give price breaks to customers who buy large quantities, hospitals could get better deals on, say, gauze or gloves, if a group of them came together and bargained for ten cases, rather than each hospital buying a case on its own. . . . By decade’s end, virtually every hospital in America belonged to a GPO.

Then, in 1986 Congress passed a bill exempting GPOs from the anti-kickback provisions embedded in Medicare law. This meant that instead of collecting membership dues, GPOs could collect “fees”—in other industries they might be called kickbacks or bribes—from suppliers in the form of a share of sales revenue. (For example, in exchange for signing a contract with a given gauze maker, a GPO might get a percentage of whatever the company made selling gauze to members.) The idea was to help struggling hospitals by shifting the burden of funding GPOs’ operations to vendors. To prevent abuse, “fees” of more than 3 percent of sales were supposed to be reported to member hospitals and (upon request) the secretary of [HHS].

[This shift] turned the incentives for GPOs upside down. Instead of being tied to the dues paid by members, GPOs’ revenues were now tied to the profits of the suppliers they were supposed to be pressing for lower prices. This created an incentive to cater to the sellers rather than to the buyers. . . . Before long, large suppliers began using “fees”—sometimes very generous ones—along with tiered pricing to secure deals that locked GPO members into buying their products. . . .

This situation only grew thornier in 1996, when the Justice Department and the Federal Trade Commission overhauled antitrust rules and granted the organizations protection from antitrust actions, except under “extraordinary circumstances.” . . . Within a few years, five GPOs controlled purchasing for 90 percent of the nation’s hospitals, which only amplified the clout of big suppliers.

There are a few lessons here. Within the confines of competition law, the message should be clear: Einer Elhauge was right to state in 2003 that “Serious antitrust concerns remain about exclusionary agreements that charge higher prices to GPOs or hospitals that won’t commit to limiting purchases from rivals of dominant manufacturers to a small (often 5-10%) percentage of their purchases.” The broader lesson is that intermediaries in many fields are often tempted to put their own profits ahead of the entities they’re ostensibly serving. In the endless battle for compensation between providers, hospitals, and insurers, there are many profitable opportunities to shift alliances. Meanwhile, entrepreneurs like Thomas Shaw, patients, and thousands of medical workers are enduring unsafe conditions that could easily be remedied.

Disparate Impact and the Tanning Tax

I have previously blogged in favor of a vanity tax, so I was happy to see the health reform legislation included a 10% tax on tanning salons. But not everyone is so pleased to see it:

When an article about the fallout from the tax — which took effect last week — appeared on the Washington Post’s Web site Wednesday, dozens of commenters questioned the tax’s legality. The case can seem deceptively simple: Since patrons of tanning salons are almost exclusively white, the tax will be almost entirely paid by white people and, therefore, violates their constitutional right to equal protection under the law.

Randall Kennedy dismisses that claim out of hand. But I hope the angry tanners join me in endorsing a plan to address the grave injustice here: legal scrutiny of face-whitening creams. Tax tanning, tax lightening, and we may well move closer to a society that can transcend the fickle “beauty bias.”

Our Own Devices

Health care finance is always going to be a contentious topic. Two recent stories about devices in health care show the unexpected ways in which technological innovation can generate new burdens, worries, and ethical dilemmas for patients and their families.

Katy Butler authored a heart-rending account of her father’s decline (and her mother’s near-exhaustion as a caregiver) in the NYT last week. Her father’s stroke changed both his and Butler’s mother’s lives:

The day before [the stroke], my mother was an upper-middle-class housewife who practiced calligraphy in her spare time. Afterward, she was one of tens of millions of people in America, most of them women, who help care for an older family member.

The story of what happens next is long and complex, but for health policy makers the nub comes down to a decision the family must make about whether to implant a permanent pacemaker when her father needs surgery to repair a hernia:

[T]he cardiologist, John Rogan, refused to clear my dad for surgery unless he received a pacemaker. . ..  The decision fell to my mother — anxious to relieve my father’s pain, exhausted with caregiving, deferential to doctors and no expert on high-tech medicine. She said yes. One of the most important medical decisions of my father’s life was over in minutes. . . .

[If my father's primary care physician had] had the chance to sit down with my parents, he could have explained that the pacemaker’s battery would last 10 years and asked whether my father wanted to live to be 89 in his nearly mute and dependent state. He could have discussed the option of using a temporary external pacemaker that, I later learned, could have seen my dad safely through surgery. But my mother never consulted Fales. And the system would have effectively penalized him if she had. Medicare would have paid him a standard office-visit rate of $54 for what would undoubtedly have been a long meeting — and nothing for phone calls to work out a plan with Rogan and the surgeon.

Medicare has made minor improvements since then, and in the House version of the health care reform bill debated last year, much better payments for such conversations were included. But after the provision was distorted as reimbursement for “death panels,” it was dropped. In my father’s case, there was only a brief informed-consent process, covering the boilerplate risks of minor surgery, handled by the general surgeon.

Butler’s family’s situation was clearly a troubling one. I do not agree with her harsher critics, who charge the New York Times has used her story to promote its political agenda:

The New York Times is continuing its promotion of the Obama administration’s cost-cutting health care legislation three months after it was signed into law. Central to the newspaper’s support for the bill is its drive to cut back on “unnecessary” treatments and procedures and to target for elimination “overly generous” insurance benefits. . . . The article is a cynical attempt to utilize the author’s family’s personal story—unarguably tragic and heartrending—to make the case that artificial pacemakers are being widely over-utilized.

But I was also troubled by Butler’s quoting the following studies:

In a 1997 study in The Journal of the American Geriatrics Society, 30 percent of seriously ill people surveyed in a hospital said they would “rather die” than live permanently in a nursing home. In a 2008 study in The Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 28 percent of patients with advanced heart failure said they would trade one day of excellent health for another two years in their current state.

I have not experienced “advanced heart failure,” but I know people who do, and it’s inconceivable to me that they would trade a day of “perfect health” for two months, much less two years, of stasis. Moreover, as Alasdair MacIntyre argues in his book Dependent Rational Animals, caring for others and being dependent are essential, important human experiences.

As I read Butler’s piece, I kept wishing that society had done more (perhaps along the lines of Britain’s Social Care programs) to help her family.

But even some forms of aid for the cared for (and their caregivers) are filled with philosophical complexities. Consider the Paro, a robotic seal I blogged about in last month and back in 2006. The Paro has been approved as “a Class 2 medical device (a category that includes powered wheelchairs)” to help soothe elderly patients. Here is one example of its powers:

One recent morning, staff at Marian Manor in Pittsburgh, one of Vincentian Collaborative’s homes, circulated three Paros among residents gathered for a sing-a-long. As 77-year-old Anita Biro sat down at a table, she berated two fellow residents and told them to leave, recalls Beth Kuenzi, activities manager for the home’s dementia unit. But when Ms. Kuenzi put Paro in front of Ms. Biro, her mood changed. As Ms. Biro stroked the robot’s synthetic fur, the machine batted its eyelashes and tracked movement with its head and eyes.

“I love this baby,” Ms. Biro cooed. Aides also take Paro to residents’ rooms to get them to socialize. At another Vincentian home, Lois Simmeth, 73, doesn’t always participate in group activities, but she ventures into the hall when she hears Paro’s sounds.

“I love animals,” explains Ms. Simmeth. She whispered to the robot in her lap: “I know you’re not real, but somehow, I don’t know, I love you.”

MIT Professor Sherry Turkle concedes that the Paro has some very good effects, but wonders “Why are we so willing to provide our parents, then ourselves, with faux relationships?” Another article explores advances in “building a machine that fills the basic human need for companionship.” Turkle, again, questions the larger social context:

[S]ome social critics see the use of robots with such patients as a sign of the low status of the elderly, especially those with dementia. As the technology improves . . . it will only grow more tempting to substitute Paro and its ilk for a family member, friend — or actual pet — in an ever-widening number of situations.

“Paro is the beginning,” she said. “It’s allowing us to say, ‘A robot makes sense in this situation.’ But does it really? And then what? What about a robot that reads to your kid? A robot you tell your troubles to? Who among us will eventually be deserving enough to deserve people?”

These are all fantastic questions, all-too-ready to be answered by techno-libertarian fantasists. I look forward to tracing the degree to which the decision to approve Paro as a covered device could reflect the larger ethical concerns explored by Dov Fox in his piece on the “gap between ethics and law” in other health decisionmaking.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall–Who Has the Most Free Market Health Care System of them All?

At least since legal realist Robert Hale published his Freedom through Law, the question of what constitutes state “intervention” in the market has been complex. For example: at what point does licensing of doctors move from being a natural aspect of any competent health system to being termed a suspect “intervention”? If there is to be free trade in services, don’t we at least need some information about what constitutes genuine medical care? “Perfect information” is a cornerstone of idealized markets—isn’t some baseline of information necessary to any actual market?

In health policy circles, the United States health care system is often seen as the most “free market” system internationally. But even the US would appear to be more interventionist than China, on a cursory reading of Blumenthal and Hsiao’s 2005 article in the NEJM:,

in the early 1980s, China virtually dismantled its apparently successful health care and public health system overnight, putting nothing in its place. In retrospect, this startling and almost inexplicable event seems to have been collateral damage from a much more carefully planned and successful policy strike: the privatization of China’s economy and a general effort to reduce the role of Beijing’s central government in China’s regional and local affairs. Only recently have Chinese authorities recognized the pain and the massive disruption in health care that they have caused.

By contrast, by some calculations, “the current tax-financed share of health spending is . . . 59.8 percent.” Very recent Chinese stimulus spending may be reversing prior privatizations there. But it’s clear that Chinese savings rates are still high, largely because so many citizens are scared of being sick and broke in a market-driven health care system.

Of course, it’s hard to develop any clear metric of private/public here; Blumenthal & Hsiao’s piece may only speak to financing and not other practices. Nevertheless, if Americare fails, the US and Chinese health care systems may be en route to superfusion.

RFID Tags for Nurses, then Everybody?

The recent City of Ontario v. Quon decision has had a mixed reception among privacy advocates. Though many are disappointed that employees’ privacy rights have once again been narrowed, some have discerned helpful dicta in the case. However, I worry that, whatever the drift of thought among swing justices, economic imperatives and cultural shifts will mean a lot less privacy in the workplace of the future. Health care in particular offers a few interesting bellwethers.

As an opinion piece by Theresa Brown explains, maintaining proper staffing levels in hospitals is becoming increasingly difficult. Surveillance systems are offering one way to address the problem; work can be performed more intensively and efficiently as it is recorded and studied. But such monitoring has many troubling implications, according to Torin Monahan (in his excellent book, Surveillance in a Time of Insecurity):

The tracking of people [via Radio Frequency Identification Tags] represents a . . . mechanism of surveillance and social control in hospital settings. This includes the tagging of patients and hospital staff. . . . When administrators demand the tagging of nurses themselves, the level of surveillance can become oppressive. . . . [because nurses face] labor intensification, job insecurity, undesired scrutiny, and privacy loss. . . . To date, such efforts at top-down micromanagement of staff by means of RFID have met with resistance. . . . One desired feature for nurses and others is an ‘off’ switch on each RFID badge so that they can take breaks without subjecting themselves to remote tracking. (122)

Like the “nannycam” employed by many a wary parent, the nurse-cam may be seen as a way to protect the vulnerable. It may also increase the accuracy of evidence in malpractice cases. On the other hand, inserting a tireless electronic eye to monitor what is already an extremely stressful job may create many unintended consequences, or deter people from going into nursing altogether. Even advocates of pervasive surveillance recognize these difficulties.

The increasing pressure to monitor what happens inside hospitals reminds me of a recent article by Thomas Goetz in Wired (no link yet) on Google co-founder Sergey Brin’s quest to find a cure for Parkinson’s disease. As Goetz describes it, a new form of “high-speed science” depends on rapid accumulation of as much data as possible:

In Brin’s way of thinking, each of our lives is a potential contribution to scientific insight. We all go about our days, making choices, eating things, taking medications, doing things—generating what is inelegantly called data exhaust. . . . With contemporary computing power, that data can be tracked and analyzed. “Any experience that we have or drug that we may take, all those things are individual pieces of information. Individually, they’re worthless, they’re anecdotal. But taken together they can be very powerful.” In computer science, the process of mining such large data sets for useful associations is known as a market-basket analysis.

Goetz has promoted this as a new way to “do science in the petabyte age.”
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Coping with Commodified Caregiving

Roger Scruton has complained that, in our society, “too many goods have a price.” He makes a Walzerian argument that certain experiences cannot be bought and sold without doing violence to their ultimate social meaning:

A century and a half ago John Muir in America and John Ruskin in England initiated the movement to save our world from spoliation. They rightly understood that nothing would  be saved if we simply defend it on economic grounds. A valley might be useful as farmland, but it might be even more useful as a reservoir or an opencast mine. Only if we recognize the intrinsic value of nature will it be proof against our predations; hence we should esteem landscapes and forests for their beauty, for their sacred quality, for the part they play in defining us and ennobling our settlements, rather than for their use. Only this will keep the market at bay and prevent us from consuming our world. . . .

Love is priceless, not because its price is higher than we can pay, but because it cannot be purchased but only earned. Of course, you can purchase the simulacrum of love, and there are people who are accomplished providers. But love that is purchased is only a pretense. Goods like love, beauty, consolation, and the sacred are spiritual goods: they have a value, but no price.

Economists don’t like spiritual goods. Such goods are connected to us not as things to be used, consumed, and exchanged but as parts of what we are. To lose them is to lose ourselves.

Perhaps the ultimate revenge of the economic mindset on commitments like Scruton’s is the rise of the caring industry, which Ronald W. Dworkin incisively examines in a recent article:

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Survivors’ Costs Gone Wild, Beverage Tax Edition

Gradgrind is alive and well, as this exchange on soda taxes explains:

This discussion between Greg Mankiw and David Leonhardt reads a bit like an economics textbook gone rogue. At issue is whether a soda tax makes sense. David Leonhardt says it does: There’s good evidence that it will reduce obesity, which will reduce health-care costs. Au contraire, says Mankiw: You have to “net out the appropriate budgetary savings from shorter lifespans.” In other words, maybe it’s not worth it, as the obese live shorter lives and so cost the government less.

Ezra Klein goes on to describe how the calculation of survivors’ costs (without offsetting valuation of survival benefits) “disadvantages the quality/value agenda as compared with the cost-control agenda.”

I would add a couple more points to complicate the analysis:

First, Mankiw may be interested in exploring the benefits of the “plus-size” clothing market. As the NYT reports, “The plus-size market increased 1.4 percent while overall women’s apparel declined 0.8 percent in the 12 months leading up to April 2010 versus the same period a year earlier, the most recent figures available, according to NPD Group, a market research firm.” Certainly taxes that discourage the development of this growth industry should be scrutinized carefully.

Second, for team Leonhardt, we might think of the tax as a way of deterring anti-beverage tax ads which have glutted the tri-state airways over the past few months. We could all do with a little less of the rent-seeking featured below:

Caring for Dogland

I always applaud health scholarship that incisively examines inequalities of access in the United States. However, sometimes it’s important to contextualize that work by emphasizing the degree of global inequality that makes even the poor in the US relatively well off by world standards. The following passage from Korzeniewicz & Moran’s 2009 book, Unveiling Inequality gives some sense of the divergence:

The magnitude of global disparities can be illustrated by considering the life of dogs in the United States. According to a recent estimate . . . in 2007-2008 the average yearly expenses associated with owning a dog were $1425 . . . For sake of argument, let us pretend that these dogs in the US constitute their own nation, Dogland, with their average maintenance costs representing the average income of this nation of dogs.

By such a standard, their income would place Dogland squarely as a middle-income nation, above countries such as Paraguay and Egypt. In fact, the income of Dogland would place its canine inhabitants above more than 40 percent of the world population. . . . And if we were to focus exclusively on health care expenditures, the gap becomes monumental: the average yearly expenditures in Dogland would be higher than health care expenditures in countries that account for over 80% of the world population. (xv)

Certainly public policy should take into account the problem of relative deprivation, which can lead to a much worse subjective experience for those at the “bottom” of the SES distribution in a rich country than those in the middle in a poorer country. Nevertheless, the statistics above help us understand why drug companies, already frustrated by low ROI in R&D, might shift from researching cures for tropical diseases to focusing on pet anxiety medications.

The Ultimate Ends of Health Care

“I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work,’ Woody Allen said, “I want to achieve it through not dying.” The “Singularity University” is attracting Silicon Valley glitterati who think along the same lines:

[T]he Singularity — a time, possibly just a couple decades from now, when a superior intelligence will dominate and life will take on an altered form that we can’t predict or comprehend in our current, limited state . . . [will lead to a world where] human beings and machines . . . so effortlessly and elegantly merge that poor health, the ravages of old age and even death itself will all be things of the past.

Some of Silicon Valley’s smartest and wealthiest people have embraced the Singularity. They believe that technology may be the only way to solve the world’s ills, while also allowing people to seize control of the evolutionary process. For those who haven’t noticed, the Valley’s most-celebrated company — Google — works daily on building a giant brain that harnesses the thinking power of humans in order to surpass the thinking power of humans.

Ezra Klein skewers the techno-utopianism, toying with the idea that we may well be robotized before we get electronic medical records:

Right now, one of the top stories on the New York Times site is about how human beings are going to become people-computer hybrids and live forever and that vision actually seems semi-plausible until you realize that all the information about the operation to download your memories into a Macintosh will probably be kept in a manila folder in a large filing cabinet, and then it doesn’t seem so likely.

But Klein neglects the trends toward tiering in the medical system, which may well continue forking into “upper decks” where anything is possible and nether realms of penury. As Andrew Orlowski comments, “The Singularity is . . . . rich people building a lifeboat and getting off the ship.” I think that progress in bioethics depends on a rejection of that kind of thinking in favor of a more solidaristic orientation toward the needs of the worst off. As I stated in 2002,

We are all disturbed by hypothetical dystopias like Huxley’s Brave New World. But their most important flaws - the inequality, degradation, and moral irresponsibility of their inhabitants - are already apparent in [some aspects of life in the] world’s wealthiest nations[, which] spend hundreds of millions of dollars on elaborate technologies of life-extension, while contributing much less to efforts to assure basic medical care to the poorest. Public debate on regenerative medicine must acknowledge this inequality. Societies and individuals can invest in it in good conscience only if they are seriously committed to extending extant medicine to all.

If “Singularity University” turns out to be a prime philanthropic initiative of the Google guys, while the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation sticks to “progress in fighting hunger and poverty,” I know which tech company I’ll be rooting for.

Private Equity in Health Care

As lawmakers squabble over the “carried interest” tax rate, it’s nice to find a big picture overview of some of the economic activity they’re discussing. I recently read Josh Kosman’s book The Buyout of America: How Private Equity Will Cause the Next Great Credit Crisis, and I highly recommend it to our readers. Kosman painstakingly describes the byzantine financial maneuvers behind marquee private equity firms which bought “more than three thousand American companies from 2000-2008.” He describes in detail how they resist transparency (164) and “hurt their businesses competitively, limit their growth, cut jobs without reinvesting the savings, and generate mediocre returns” (195). The recipe for high earnings is simple: the firms “get large fees up front and are largely divorced from their results if their transactions fail” (195).

Like Kwak and Johnson’s account in 13 Bankers, Kosman offers a political economy account of private equity’s favored treatment by government. As he notes,

[F]our of the past eight Treasury Secretaries joined the PE industry . . . . and they have significant influence in Washington. President Bill Clinton, and both President Bushes, have also advised PE firms or worked for their companies. . . . KKR retained former Democratic House majority leader Richard Gephardt as a lobbyist and hired former RNC chairman Kenneth Mehlman as head of global public affairs. (196)

Having analyzed a wide array of buyouts, Kosman concludes that “PE firms manage their businesses to satisfy short-term greed, not for long-term survival” (51). This is a particularly dangerous attitude in health care, an industry too long dominated by short-run thinking. There can also be a troubling trade-off between care and profit in health care, as the nursing home industry demonstrates.

It’s precisely this mentality that FDIC Chair Sheila Bair indicted in her testimony before the FCIC:

[W]hile the establishment of emergency backstops to contain financial crises can help to limit damage to the wider economy in the short-run, without needed reforms these policies will promote financial activity and risk-taking at the expense of other sectors of the economy. Corporate sector practices [have] had the effect of distorting of decision-making away from long-term profitability and stability and toward short-term gains with insufficient regard for risk. . . .Meaningful reform of these practices will be essential to promote better long-term decision-making in the U.S. corporate sector.

We can only hope that members of Congress keep both Bair’s and Kosman’s insights in mind. Congratulations to Kosman for authoring a compelling and well-researched analysis of one of the most troubling engines of inequality in the US.

Cross Posted at Concurring Opinions

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