Sunlight is a Weak Disinfectant

Palace Guard with Two Leopards, Jean-Joseph Benjamin Constant (1845-19020

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.

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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More Institutional Health Economics, Please!

Elinor Ostrom with Indiana University president Michael McRobbie at press conference announcing her Nobel Prize. Photo by aschweigert via Flickr

Today’s Nobel Prize award for institutional economists Oliver Williamson and Elinor Ostrom is a welcome step toward methodological pluralism in the profession. Both have looked outside markets to understand the organization of economic life. Ostrom is not even an economist–she is a political scientist by profession. As Bob Shiller observes:

This award is part of the merging of the social sciences. Economics has been too isolated and too stuck on the view that markets are efficient and self-regulating. It has derailed our thinking.

According to the NYT, “The Nobel judges, in their description of Mr. Williamson’s and Ms. Ostrom’s achievement, said that ‘economic science’ should extend beyond market theory and into actual behavior, and the two award winners, in their empirical work, had done this.”

There is a great need for more of this type of work in health economics. Joe White’s Markets and Medical Care: The United States, 1993–2005 is one good exemplar of needed work here; he eschews “discussions of how economic theory can be applied to medical care production and delivery” and instead “focuses on ‘the market’ in its actual, not theoretical, form, as it existed in the United States.” White describes case after case where consolidation, not medical need, drove industry structure. He leaves the reader with a clear and convincing image of a space where varying levels of provider and insurer power, not productivity, is the key to understanding changes in the profitability of services. I’ve seen few better brief explanations of rising medical costs than the following: Read more