Make certain that your first and main
intention is the saving of men’s lives and health. Put this before any
consideration of profit or personal honor, both of which are also important, but
only as secondary concerns in comparison to human lives. If money is your
primary purpose, you reflect poorly on your profession, which, as you practice
it, cannot bring any higher honor or consolation than your intentions will
support. It is the end more than the means that ennobles or corrupts men. If
profit is your main goal, it will not matter to you if you achieve it by
treating men or cattle, or by less exalted means. You may indeed bring very
great benefit to those whose lives are saved through your efforts...If you seek
to honor and please God, to do public good, and to save lives, and this is
really your primary purpose, then you serve God in your profession. Otherwise,
your efforts are merely self-serving. Be careful that you don’t fool yourself
at this point into thinking that the good of others is your goal and more
important to you than profit merely because you know it is better and that it
ought to be your goal.[1]
The fiduciary nature of the
physician-patient relationship has been relegated to the dust bins of
history, rendered worthless by the charges of paternalism and by the veneration
of patient autonomy. Applicants to medical schools in the United States
frequently give financial reasons for why they want to be doctors. One
particular applicant stated her reasons: it is an interesting job and pays good
money. She was accepted, because she was a “realist.” Not only has
self-interest become the raison d’etre
for many in medicine, its purveyors are now rewarded for such a way of
thinking. Whether the ever-advancing commodification of medicine is a cause or
result of this self-interest approach to patient care is open to debate, but its
strong effect on medicine is clearly seen in developments over the past quarter
century.
Commodification and
Physician/ Patient Relationships 
At one time in Western culture,
a parental structure of society was dominant. This applied to the individual’s
relationship to the State as well as to a profession such as medicine. This
framework, which recognized the fiduciary role of those who concerned themselves
with the best interests of others, has given way to a contractualist
understanding that does not organize social structures in terms of a familial
relationship. The death of “paternalism” brings a focus on shared ends and
shared goals, orienting away from the past and toward a future of mutual
choosing. The contractualist sees life as more and more contingent, working
to adapt to it by the making of choices, directing himself toward the
novel (which he elevates to a place of admiration). This contractualist outlook
now pervades our understanding of the State (deriving from a “social contract”),
the workplace that we choose (over and over again), and our choice
of a physician.[2] The genuine family physician has given way to
“interchangeable” doctors. Physicians and patients meet as strangers. Doctors
agree to exchange services for money. And by doing so, they protect themselves
from facing the crisis that a fiduciary experiences because he bonds to his
patient as a “surrogate” family member.
A fiduciary understanding of the physician-patient relationship
makes a medical doctor into a physician, a professional. Though the best of
what it means to be paternal is incorporated into this way of thinking, it is
not paternalistic. The best interests of the other, not the self, are
imperative to the fiduciary. The loss of this conception of the professional
comes at the cost of public esteem. Respect for medicine is at a low point.
When a doctor is a contract partner, he naturally looks out for his own best
interests, not those of his patients. One result of this is a lack of trust by
the patient for the physician. Trust is the “quintessential element” in an
appropriate relationship between a professional and his protégé.[3] It is not
that there can be no trust in a contractualist relationship; any such trust is
based on recognizing that the seller (doctor) might see it in his best interest
to satisfy the customer (patient). This is a contingent trust at best, but all
that is available when doctors and patients contract with one another. “The
unique relationship of trust and understanding between doctor and patient...will
suffer immeasurably if it is seen only in commercial terms.”[4] The decrease in
trust by patients toward physicians, along with other factors, has demoralized
physicians. Decreased trust makes the physician and the patient moral
strangers. “As moral strangers, the physician and patient must be extremely
careful in their relationship with each other. There is no longer any room for
assumptions as patient meets physician and as physician meets patient.”[5]
Suspicion, distrust and hostility characterize the physician’s encounter with
patients on an increasingly frequent basis. Calls for new patient — physician,
patient — provider, or patient-caregiver relationships (instead of
physician-patient relationships) suggest that “traditional” approaches
manipulated the patient in a heavy-handed or paternalistic manner. In reality,
a contractualist relationship puts patients at risk of manipulation.
When physicians approach their encounter with patients from a
mindset of self-interest, hubris characterizes the meeting. In a fiduciary
role, the physician approaches the patient in humility. Too often the humility
that formerly accompanied the privilege of treating patients has been sacrificed
upon the altar of self-aggrandizement. Nowhere is the exchange of hubris for
humility seen more clearly than in the establishment of “Free Clinics” by local
physicians, wherein they volunteer their time to “serve” the indigent. What is
ignored is the fact that if they would see these indigent patients in their own
offices there would be no need for the free clinics. Free clinics serve the
hubris of doctors, not indigent patients. They are set up to keep certain
“unworthy” patients away from doctors’ offices, not to provide an otherwise
unavailable means for providing them treatment. In a country with a
market-driven health care system, such condescension by physicians ought not to
surprise anyone. Why would a market-oriented physician incur profit-reducing
expenses providing services to the indigent?
When a market provides the context for the practice of medicine,
the incentive to do so becomes self-aggrandizement. No longer is caring for the
suffering of others in a fiduciary manner providing the framework for patient
“care.” In a contractual model, it takes little to lead someone, even a doctor,
to avoid or neglect those who are suffering; these are the “natural” (or at
least most common) responses to the suffering of others with whom there is no
kinship. The self-serving nature of the contractual relationship does not
provide adequate reason to tend to the suffering of others with care, only with
provision of services as laid out in the contractual relationship. The
intermingling of clinical judgment and financial concerns erodes the ideal of
medicine as a profession.
The loss of a fiduciary understanding of the physician-patient
relationship also has reduced the patient’s role to the amoral purchasing of
goods and services. Acquiescing to the charges of paternalism, doctors are
reticent to hold patients responsible for their own health. A market-driven
approach to medicine emphasizes the patients’ rights, but not the patients’
responsibilities. Not taking a person’s virtues and vices seriously de
personalizes him. When we ignore the graciousness or viciousness of his
responses to affliction, we act and reflect as though the patient does not have
a moral life. The fallout of this demoralizing of patients’ responsibility for
their own health is seen in the multiple “report cards” on the health of
Americans. Obesity and all its repercussions (hypertension, diabetes, heart
disease, etc.) will not be addressed until and unless doctors re-introduce the
concept of patient responsibility. In the customer-satisfaction mindset of
commercialized medicine, however, this is unlikely.
When patients become customers, they seek a doctor to provide
for their wants as well as their needs. In a sensate culture such as ours,
patients thrive on those things that stimulate the senses. Such a culture is
hedonistic, encouraging self-indulgence.[6] Because of this, the predominant
approach to seeking health care is utilitarian and the end desired is maximizing
pleasure and minimizing displeasure. This has pushed the concept of the
physician as the reliever of suffering and the dispenser of pleasure, rather
than as the healer. “Customer” satisfaction demands that physicians give the
patient what he wants in order to keep him coming back to purchase more
services. Existentially, patient demands for narcotics and other hedonistic
prescriptions[7] declare their sensate origins.
Doctors bemoan their loss of control in health care, but fail to
realize that it is largely because of their adoption of a medicine-as-commodity
framework for practicing medicine. Throughout the history of the profession of
medicine, physicians have derived their greatest societal “power” through their
professional ethics. “The major source of power for physicians is moral power —
the sense of a communal responsibility as a profession for the welfare of those
who seek their help. To compromise this power or trade it for political power
is to make a Faustian compact with its inevitable loss of soul.”[8] Medicine
today stands in need of a restored soul, being lost through its commodification.
Medicine as a Commodity 
Medicine as a
commodity makes the dialogue between doctor and patient to be descriptive,
disallowing performative utterances. Physicians may describe an illness
(the wound is infected, the mass is malignant). They are not obligated to
do anything more than the “market” or “contract” requires descriptively.
Once fulfilling the describing of the illness, the treatment, the likely course
of events, the physician’s “duties” are met. There is no warrant to
fidelity to promise that is evoked by performative utterance: “I cannot
relieve you of your suffering, but I will go through it with you, never
abandoning you.”[9]
Health care today is a big business. The problem is not just
the enormous amounts of money changing hands in the health care arena, but
societal changes as well.
A consumer-autonomy model relegates the physician to the role of
a simple fact provider. In such a system the physician is merely a physiologic
engineer. He is to inform the patient what is wrong and what can
be done about it. What he is not to do is provide a value-laden recommendation
about what ought to be done.
This is the role of the autonomous consumer. It is his choice, and his values
alone must found the decision and then determine what, in fact, will
be done. “The patient’s role in this division of labor is to provide the
values, his or her own conception of the good, with which to evaluate these
alternatives and to select the one that is best for himself or herself.”[10]
Problems immediately arise when the patient is indecisive, irrational or belongs
to a culture that reserves the authority of decision-making for some outside
authority, be it familial or communal.[11] Self-determinism by the patient as
consumer is the summum bonum.
The physician
has become merely the “provider” — actually one of many providers. The
physician as provider implies a level of commodification. Commodities are
always and only means to some ends. Persons, as Immanuel Kant taught, are
always and only ends in themselves. The physician as a provider of
commodities does not care for patients as persons, but as means to the end of
his own self-interest. Self-interest corrupts. The bottom line
corrupts absolutely![12]
Medicine as the provision of a commodity or product is under the
control of the forces of profit, self-interest, and a non-existent freedom of
consumer choice. Patients who pay — and non-paying patients who see health care
as their right — want choice in product. And this choice is their
choice. If they want narcotics, customer satisfaction obligates the
physician to give them. If they want a CT scan, it must be ordered.
If they want performance-boosting drugs, it is their right as consumer to choose
them. Ethicist William May predicted such an antinomian outcome to a
marketplace control of medicine wherein the physician as “seller has few
obligations above and beyond those that the knowledge or skepticism of the buyer
[patient] enforces.”[13]
Beginning in
the 1970s, physicians have increasingly embraced market strategies under the
delusion that medicine would become better and cheaper if subjected to the
natural forces of economics and competition. The major influence on the
practice of medicine in the United States is the framework of the marketplace.
Practicing medicine today in America is less patient care and more practice
management. To be “successful,” doctors must look for a competitive
advantage, increased market share, and a larger profit margin. Cost
accounting, negotiation, and joint ventures are as much a part of the
physician’s needed skills as are comprehension of disease, procedural
competency, and medication discernment. Free-market economics reduces
health care to the buying and selling of commodities with pressure to cut costs
and enhance profits. With this dominance of the ideology of the
marketplace comes the trumping of ethics by economics, for “even persons of good
will can be corrupted by a system of care which is designed as a commercial,
competitive, cost- or profit-driven system.”[14]
Traditionally, medicine sought the patient’s good. The
traditional goal of business is profit. At least five characteristics describe
a market relationship between two parties. First, trading parties are each
attempting to maximize their own self-interests. Second, they have adequate
information (or means to obtain it) to guide them in the transaction. Third,
the parties are free to choose whether they will trade and with whom they will
trade. Fourth, the relationship is a competitive one in a double sense:
producers compete with consumers for maximal profits, and producers compete with
other producers for the consumer’s business. Finally, there must be a legal
framework to ensure fair competition.[15] It is questionable whether caring for
and relating to patients compassionately as persons is even possible in a
market-driven health delivery system that has increasingly reduced the ability
of physicians to care for the needs of the patient.
Commodification
of medicine has brought ever-increasing dissatisfaction to physicians, but it is
not just the doctors’ problem. The patient is also victimized.
Patients are not consumers in search of a commodity. Neither are they
themselves so many industrial commodities; they are afflicted human persons.
One assumption of marketplace medicine is that all patients can converse on
equal terms with the physician, can compete with one another for physician
services, and can recognize and accept the full implications of market medicine.
The commercial model of provider-consumer can never adequately replace a
fiduciary model because patients are vulnerable. It is inconceivable that
competitiveness between physician-providers can do other than increase patient
vulnerability. They are not able to properly make “product” choices,
protect their “investments,” or otherwise act as smart consumers in a state of
affliction and vulnerability. Because patients are not equal partners in a
market relationship, medicine’s availability and accessibility can never be left
to the callous operation of the marketplace. That American medicine has
been subsumed into the marketplace is why a recent poll of physician executives
found that their number one concern was physicians refusing to take care of
patients who don’t have insurance.[16]
But not all see the commodification of medicine in such negative
terms. After all, there has always been a business dimension to medicine.[17]
Kenman Wong, who writes and teaches on business ethics, suggests that
stakeholder theory provides justification for seeing medicine as business. In
such an understanding of business, the interests of other parties such as the
community, employees, customers, and suppliers are “balanced” with those of
shareholders. The reasoning for this, however, unmasks how business and
medicine differ. When giving an example of the stakeholder theory, Wong uses
Merck, a pharmaceutical company, to illustrate how this can be successful. He
quotes a corporate officer, “We try never to forget that medicine is for the
people. It is not for the profits. The profits follow, and the better we have
remembered that, they have never failed to appear. The better we have
remembered it, the larger they have been.”[18] Clearly, stakeholder theory is
just one more means of maximizing profits (or at best, exchanging increased
profits for ensured profits), the fundamental goal of business. To insinuate
that business and medicine have much in common or are even compatible ignores
the divergent goals of medicine (the other) and business (self). That there is
a “business dimension” of medicine (the laborer, after all, is worthy of his
wages) does not equate to the organization of medicine qua
business.
Examples of the Commodification of Medicine[19] 
Managed Care
Managed care has provided much fodder for the discussion of
what is wrong with medicine as business. Managed care organizations (MCO) look
first at finances, and only afterwards to quality. Being concerned as they are
with the bottom line, the MCO uses financial inducements to alter physician
practice patterns. The fact that they do raises the concern that quality of
care can be affected by a physician’s participation with a MCO. Why else would
incentives be offered if it is not assumed that behaviors could not be
influenced?
Under a purely contractual relationship, whenever reimbursement
for a treatment or test is excluded under a MCO contract (whether or not it was
appropriate), the participating doctor is not under any obligation to provide it
under a purely contractual relationship. Such a restriction of accountability
to the terms of the contract denies that professionals have any obligation to
profess something on behalf of someone else without regard to its financial
consequences for themselves. The MCO contract requires nothing more from the
physician than the compliance with the conditions
of the contract, leaving little room for the doctor to address the
condition of the patient. The efficient
use of medical services replaces the welfare of the patient as the primary
interest for the contracted physician. Physicians are often left with the
immoral dilemma: being forced to choose between two bad alternatives when there
is no right act.
Indeed, for the conscientious physician, the most urgently felt
conflict in a system of managed care is the erosion of the priority of a
commitment to the welfare of the individual patient and person. Managed care
exchanges care of the individual patient for consideration of the mass of MCO
members. In a MCO, the physician is urged to abandon ethics of the person for
ethics of the population, individual ethics for social ethics. Social medicine
as practiced with a MCO exchanges the needs of unidentified patients whose risks
are not known, might never exist (and if they ever do, it will be in the
future), for the care of the patient presenting to the physician existentially
in actual need. But the art of medicine is that it is practiced one patient at
a time. It is only after caring for the
individual in need effectively — professionally, fiduciarily — that it is
ethical to contribute to the good of the “herd.”
Another aspect of the utilitarian character of our culture is at
play here: distributive justice. The MCO seeks maximal services for the most
patients at the least cost. Managed care is medicine-as-business put into
practice. Managing in managed care focuses not on patient benefit, but investor
benefit. This is true not only in the private MCO, but also when government
acts as a MCO (in which, ultimately, it is the taxpayers’ benefits [or the
politicians’] that is the focus).[20] Practice guidelines are an example of the
egregious nature of a herd-over-individual framework, as they are often promoted
merely as cost-cutting tools. One set of hospital discharge guidelines
developed by Milliman USA(tm) and used by MCO administrators to discipline
physician members and even remove them from preferred provider status have been
blasted as advocating stays too short for the patients’ good. Outcomes being
measured were financial, not based on quality of care.[21] In another example,
the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services of the U. S. Department of Health
and Human Services will enact a program of reducing reimbursement to hospitals
if a patient has certain “preventable” complications, using clinical guidelines
to identify such complications. It is uncertain whether or not they will
differentiate between patients with complications who were treated according to
guidelines from those who were not. There would obviously be a greater savings
of health care dollars if this was applied to all complications. This fails to
recognize, or at least to allow, that even the best evidence-based (i.e.,
“cookbook”) medicine cannot prevent all complications.
Like the MCO, any third-party payer system can erode the
physician-patient relationship. Under such arrangements doctors are
simultaneously tempted to do too little and too much for the patient. They are
tempted to do too little when the payer establishes preferred interventions, be
they medications or specialist referral lists. They are tempted to do too much
when increased remuneration is tied to higher levels of coding for services or
multiple codes for an encounter. Third-party payer systems also contribute to
the patient as consumerist. Blinded from the direct cost of their care (whether
by employer-supplemented insurance, Medicare, or Medicaid), patients demand
health care as a right, demand more of it, and demand it their way.
Paid for Performance
Related to managed care and
third-party payer systems is the concept of “paid for performance” (P4P) that is
gaining ground in American health care. The idea here is that physician
remuneration is tied to how well they take care of patients. Bill Steiger,
editor of The Physician Executive journal, suggests, “Putting a significant
amount of reimbursement at risk seems to be really the only way to get most
physicians’ attention regarding improving outcomes...and complying with accepted
guidelines.”[22] There is, at the surface, a sweet-smelling aroma to the notion
of doctors being reimbursed according to how well they care for patients. But
the rub comes from how “care” is measured. When it is measured in financial
terms, all the concerns already discussed come into play. When measured by
compliance with “best practices,” the problem is the dearth of Class 1
evidence.[23] For the purposes of this essay, however, all that is needed
is to demonstrate that physician practice is affected by this financial
arrangement. Philosophically, P4P will cause doctors to do things solely to get
paid, not because they are in the patients’ best interests. Also, in a
paid-for-performance system, doctors are benefited by avoiding or dumping the
sickest, most complicated, non-compliant and socially difficult patients because
they result in worse outcomes whether measured financially or in terms of
clinical guidelines.
One of the easiest ways to demonstrate that P4P can be quite
problematic is by looking at the model of tying physician pay to the relative
value unit (RVU) system. Physician procedures and interactions with patients
have been assigned relative values by the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid
Services. When a physician is reimbursed according to this schedule, he
receives a pre-set monetary rate per relative value unit. For example, the most
common physician office visit is coded 99203 and is assigned a RVU of 1.34. If
a physician earns thirty-eight dollars ($38.00) per RVU, he would earn $62.32
for seeing the patient. However, if he could instead code the patient at level
99204, which is assigned 2.00 RVUs, he would earn seventy-six dollars ($76.00)
for the visit. It takes very little additional documentation to justify the
higher code. This RVU scenario is based solely on productivity and has nothing
to do with quality of care. Doctors have “upcoded” patient visits, billing for
a higher level of service than actually rendered to a patient.
Physicians as Employees
The RVU scheme is common when
physicians are employees. Here, “upcoding” is a win-win situation: the higher
the code, the higher the employer can bill third-party payers and the higher the
physician’s earnings.[24] Hospitals have turned to employing physicians
increasingly to cover their needs for primary care physicians to feed their
patient flow and specialists to provide hard-to-obtain call coverage. It is
estimated that 38 percent of physicians are employed.[25] As employees,
physicians have an inherent conflict of interest between serving the best
interests of their employer (and, subsequently, their own) and those of their
patients. Inducements commonly offered to employed physicians, including
withholds and bonuses, are incentives that connote self-interest. Withholds can
be linked to cost “overruns” in physician offices, enticing physicians to cut
corners in patient care. Bonuses (e.g., profit sharing) reward physicians for
keeping costs down and increasing revenue, again coaxing them to look out for
their own interests. Financial penalties (withholdings) and bonuses are
designed to deliberately manipulate the physician’s self-interest at the expense
of the patient’s. Such contexts transform physicians from patient advocates
into corporate stewards, change a single-minded focus on patients’ needs to what
is absolutely (minimally) required, from caring for patients with afflictions to
providing care at the lowest possible cost.
Patient Abandonment
Market-driven medicine
encourages doctors to abandon patients. Above, this was linked to
paid-for-performance because less desirable (financially or clinically) or more
complicated patients are not good for the bottom line. Patient abandonment by
physicians has been aided and abetted by the establishment of walk-in clinics
(e.g., urgent care centers) and the advent of the hospitalist.[26] These
developments allow primary care physicians and specialists to provide more
profitable office-based care in a manner more conducive to a better lifestyle
(no call, no weekend work).
Conflicts of Interest
Perhaps the greatest source of
breakdown in the trust of physicians by patients comes from conflicts of
interest. A conflict of interest can only exist where physicians put
self-interest above or even on par with their fiduciary role. Conflicts come
from multiple sources. One clear example involves manipulation of physicians by
the pharmaceutical industry. A physician may receive more than five visits
daily from pharmaceutical representatives.[27] Pharmaceutical companies spend
approximately $10,000 annually per physician in the United States on such
marketing because they know that gifts “invoke the social rule of reciprocity.
The recipient incurs an obligation to repay.”[28] Gifts may include meals,
logo-monogrammed items such as pens, honoraria as speakers, national meetings,
and drug samples. Physicians are like mules with blinders when it comes to such
tactics. The social rule of reciprocity operates under the radar of the
physician so that he is unaware of the influence and is unintentionally biased.
Though they overwhelming deny that gifts would affect their practice of
medicine, surveyed doctors feel it more likely that other physicians could be
affected by them.[29] Interestingly, the more gifts a doctor receives, the less
likely he is to believe that his practice patterns are affected by them.[30]
Financial conflicts of interest “threaten patient care, taint medical
information, and raise costs. They create deception, impair physicians’
judgment, and reduce their willingness to be their patients’ advocates.
They reduce professional dignity and integrity, denigrate the profession, and
erode trust in the profession’s practitioners.”[31]
Physician Advertising
One of the clearest examples of
the commodification of medicine is the rampant nature of physician advertising.
From 1847, when the Code of Ethics of the American Medical Association[32]
prohibited advertising by physicians until 1975 when the Federal Trade
Commission (FTC) successfully sued the AMA, accusing the medical profession of
restraint of trade, doctors considered advertising their services as forbidden.
In this action the FTC has characterized medicine as a commercial endeavor in
which goods and services are bought and sold as any other commodity. Other
recent court decisions have contributed to the shift of medical services in the
direction of commodity transactions. The prohibition of advertising by the
AMA differentiated the physician from the plethora of traveling medicine show
purveyors and other quacks of the nineteenth century. Medical quackery has
now returned with a vengeance and unprecedented sophistication, pandering
unproven treatments, herbal remedies and supplements. Advertising doctors
look just like these modern-day swindlers when advertising their wares, whether
it is the latest vision-enhancing surgery, cosmetic procedure, or free-standing
surgery center.[33]
Traditionally, patients sought physicians; physicians did not
seek patients. Commodification changes this. Advertising publicly acknowledges
that the doctor is seeking to make money, rather than serve and promote the best
interests of patients. It pits individual against individual and erodes the
boundary that a professional mindset establishes between the physician as a
fiduciary and the physician as a seller of commodities, between professional
ethics and the “buyer beware” ethics of the business arena. Advertising begins
a particular doctor-patient relationship on a competitive basis. Patients need
for physicians to be the one segment in society that is not trying to sell
something. Physicians ought to be individuals who can be counted on to
sacrifice profit making (or the semblance thereof) in order to make the best
interests of their patients paramount. Only when holding this traditional
opinion of advertising does the physician remain free of the skepticism that
naturally characterizes (and rightly so) commercial relationships.
Communication between physician and patient ought to be open,
two-way, and comprehensive. Advertising, however, makes one-way pronouncements,
not communication. It is like a lecture wherein patients cannot (and are not
welcomed to) participate. The only desired response is capitulation. By its
nature, advertising can only give limited information, and even that information
is biased and intended to entice rather than inform. In its most flagrant form,
medical advertising creates unrealistic expectations for the vulnerable. There
is a unique vulnerability that patients have based on their needs, their want of
relief from disease or disability, or even their self-aggrandizement. This
vulnerability makes them less likely to show the same degree of incredulity
toward medical advertising that consumers usually bring to other forms of
advertising.
It is commonplace to see the faces of local physicians on
highway billboards, newspaper pages, and on local television, hocking the latest
surgical procedure or hospital service. They persuade and titillate rather than
inform. Frequently, they mislead — intentionally — as when doctors claim
specialist status in yellow page listings although they have no formal training
or certification in the specialty.[34] When large “listings” in yellow pages are
seen for what they are, most physicians participate in some form of
advertising.
The Expert Witness
One final ramification of the
commodification of medicine is the growth industry of expert medical
witnessing. Being an expert witness for financial gain in contrast to providing
peer review for improvement in patient care is putting up for sale one’s
professional status, education, credentials, and experience. Even a cursory
glance through a legal journal will quickly reveal expert witnesses for hire to
the bidder, almost always by the plaintiff attorney. To be ethical, however, a
medical expert ought to be independent of the retaining counsel.[35]
Contingency of testimony is outright unethical. This can occur either directly
(i.e., when the witness agrees contractually to tie his fee to a successful
outcome) or by threat of no further business as an expert if unable to deliver
the outcome desired by the retaining counsel. When acting as an expert becomes
a significant source of income for an individual doctor, he ceases to be a
physician.
Conclusion: The Re-Ensoulment of Medicine 
The Practice of
Medicine is an Art, not a Trade; a Calling, not a Business; a Calling in which
your Heart will be exorcised equally with your Head.[36]
Medicine was traditionally understood to be a vocation, not an
occupation. Physicians were called to
the care of patients. They did not occupy
the tradesman’s shop. One with an occupation has a job. One with a vocation
has a calling. To have a calling implies that there is a Caller. From the time
of Hippocrates, physicians have understood that they answer to a higher
authority. The physician-patient relationship used to be one of covenant
between the physician and this higher authority on behalf of patients, not
actually between the physician and the patient. Such a context resolves the
problems inherent with the contractual model of physician-patient relationships
that cry out for a context that upholds the dignity of the patient and the
integrity of the physician. A fiduciary covenant between physician and patient
satisfies this. The fiduciary aspect of this model is based on the dignity of
the patient, the physician’s role to safeguard the patient’s interest in his
health, the imbalance of medical knowledge between the patient and the
physician, and the vulnerability of the patient.[37] But there is more to this
model than a fiduciary aspect. The same dignity and vulnerability demand a
covenantal bond, as well. Such a bond is a fundamental commitment that shapes
and constrains the physician in his fiduciary role, as well as the patient in
his demands on the physician.
A primary assumption in this model is that the “professional
professes something (the art of healing) on behalf of someone (the patient).
This double fidelity to the art of healing and to the patient generates trust.
This is why we call the professional relationship fiduciary.”[38]
Physicians have a role-duty. That is, they have a duty to provide for the
welfare of their patients because of their profession and their status as
physicians. Performance “is not predicated on a guarantee of compensation [as
in the contractual model], but on a concern for [the patient’s] welfare.”[39] The
physician professes the provisions of the professional covenant to which he
binds himself. The fundamental purpose of the relationship is to benefit the
patient, and a basic principle, then, is that physicians must not put their own
interests above those of the patient as would be inherent to a contractual
relationship. A physician as fiduciary covenants to act for the welfare of the
patient, subordinating (but not denying) his own personal interests to that of
the patient.
A fiduciary covenantal approach to patient care does allow
physicians to hold patients responsible. At the danger of eliciting the charge
of paternalism, this recognizes that physicians do act in loco parentis
to some degree. Part of what parents do is train up their charges in order to
bring them to greater responsibility. Patient education and nurturing have long
been recognized activities on the part of physicians. A fiduciary relationship
may impose a responsibility on patients to care responsibly for their own
health. Tough love will sometimes demand withholding what a patient desires in
order to bring forth appropriate (and healthy) behavior on his part. An
emergency medicine physician acts in his patient’s best interest when he refuses
to refill maintenance medications so that the patient will have to return to his
primary physician for health maintenance. Patient responsibility does not bring
unfettered choice. But a physician expressing tough love in a fiduciary
relationship also recognizes human weakness (fallenness) and provides the offer
of help and healing even in the context of patient irresponsibility.
The obvious charge against such a fiduciary covenantal
relationship is that it is paternalistic. But it is not so. It is a commitment
by a physician regarding his skills, character, actions, and values. Strictly
speaking, paternalism is the right to impose one’s decisions on another. Both
the fiduciary and the covenantal features of such relationships preclude any
such imposition. The physician never claims sovereignty in the relationship in
a paternalistic manner. He subsumes himself to a higher authority, and he
limits himself to certain values and actions corresponding to those values as
established in the covenant. The physician’s freedom of action, not the
patient’s, is limited by the covenantal pledge to practice within his skills and
according to a moral commitment. The physician is not free to impose his
decisions on the patient. The patient remains free to seek the security of the
covenantal relationship and, having entered it, to accept or reject the
physician’s recommendations. The covenant provides boundaries for the patient,
decreasing subjectivism in choices that must be made. This covenant
relationship is like the old playground game of three-legged race wherein two
people are linked together by tying one leg of each to the other. They must
work together in order to progress down the track to the finish line. The
physician knows the course from having seen it mapped out and having traveled it
before and, therefore should point the way they should go. But the patient must
give assent to the direction of the physician in order for his directions to be
put into action toward the goal.
The patient is free to choose to enter into this covenant
relationship, not as a fellow oath-taker with the physician, but as one who
chooses to expose his vulnerability to the physician-in-covenant because he sees
the selfless nature of the physician. This choice is ultimately the patient’s
regardless of his system of reimbursement for health care. Even in a managed
care system, the patient is always free to seek any physician he chooses — only
he may be responsible for paying the financial obligations incurred without the
assistance of the managed care plan. Where conditions limit the patient to one
physician (a “one-doc town” or national health system built on regional primary
care assignments), the patient is still free to go to the physician or not
receive care. There really is no such thing as compulsion (at least not in an
absolute sense); each person does exactly what he wants most to do at that
particular time. The choices may be limited and undesirable (“your money or
your life”), but choice is available nonetheless.
The patient cannot understand that the physician practices
covenantally and cannot comprehend the ramifications of this in today’s culture
unless the physician makes this clear. He must profess it to the patient. Not
to profess it is to be unprofessional. In choosing the physician as his health
professional, the patient thus chooses to come under the covenant as professed.
In this choice by the patient, the covenant extends in a new dimension. To the
vertical covenant with the higher authority is added a horizontal dimension
between physician and patient. This added dimension is not an additional
covenant, nor even added to the original covenant, but is present in the purpose
of the already-established covenant when the patient comes under the care of the
covenanted physician.
The relationship thus established is one of mutuality. It is
not one of equality, as this is understood today, synonymous with sameness. As
pointed out already, the relationship is asymmetric toward the physician in
terms of knowledge and skill, but toward the patient in terms of ultimate
choice. The patient does hold the trump card. This gives balance and
mutuality, but not equality. Both patient and physician freely act under the
terms of the covenant — the physician with skill and morality, the patient with
confidence. Ultimate responsibility is to the covenant. This relationship
provides a safeguard when other parties invade it, including third-party payers
and physician employers.
In the face of the pressures introduced by the commodification
of medicine, the only way doctors can once again become physicians and
professionals is to continually advocate for the patient in a selfless manner.
Managed care contracts must never supplant the priority of the patient.
Physicians can welcome a focus on patient outcomes if this is a focus on
clinical care. Clinical guidelines that are evidence-based can be endorsed by
the physician as fiduciary, but they must never become rigid rules that allow
for the disregard of the individual patient. Physicians as employees must be
willing to give up their employment rather than compromise the best interest of
patients. The contract must not replace the covenant.
Patients must never be customers. Customers exist for the
seller’s profit. Conflicts of interest will always lurk in the background of
all inter-personal relationships, but the physician must actively guard against
overt exploitation and covert influence. Physicians must not seek patients in a
commercial manner, but allow their caring approach to the best interests of
their patients to “promote” their practices. Advertising has no place in the
fiduciary covenantal approach to medicine. The honored tradition of physicians
holding themselves accountable to other physicians should lead to the
restoration of peer review as in the traditional “Morbidity and Mortality”
conferences of bygone days of training. Medical witnesses ought never to accept
anything more than reimbursement of expenses incurred in order to testify.
Is there any hope for overcoming the deterioration of medicine
at the hands of commodification? It will take more than a movement within the
ranks of physicians. After all, the kind of health care the culture desires or
even tolerates reflects the kind of society we are or want to be. The current
reign of hedonistic self-interest as the “above which no other” value does not
bode well for efforts to resist the allures brought on by commodification. The
hope indeed lies outside of medicine and under the sovereignty of THE Healer of
souls Himself. There is hope indeed that medicine can experience soul
resurrection.
Table One: 
Examples of the Commodification of Medicine
•
Advertising
•
Ancillary procedures performed in the physician’s office
•
Conflicts of interest
•
Customer satisfaction surveys
•
Employed physicians
•
Physician-owned endoscopy and specialty surgery centers
•
Expert witnessing for income
•
For-profit joint ventures by physicians
•
Hospitalists
•
Managed care
• Paid
for performance
•
Paying research subjects
•
Physicians as retailers (pharmacies, vitamins/ herbs/supplements, medical
devices [for the purpose of profit])
•
Practicing/partnering with alternative or complementary health practices for
financial reasons
•
Procedures by non-specialists
•
Relative value units as the basis for physician remuneration
•
Satellite offices out of town
•
Self-referral
•
Selling body parts (organs/eggs/sperm)
•
Strikes by physicians
•
Walk-in (e.g., urgent care) centers
Endnotes
1 Michael S. Lundy, ed., The Duty of
Physicians by Richard Baxter, Truth for Life series, J. Ligon Duncan, series
editor. Greenville, SC: Reformed Academic Press, 2000, 1-2. (Emphasis in the
original.)
2 William F. May, The Physician’s
Covenant, 2nd ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2000), 36.
3 N. D. Tomycz, “A Profession Selling Out:
Lamenting the Paradigm Shift in Physician Advertising,” Journal of Medical
Ethics 32 (2006): 27.
4 Doreen Bulger, “The Patient as
Consumer?” Br J Gen Pract 40 (1990): 262.
5 Scott B. Rae, Paul M. Cox, Bioethics:
A Christian Approach in a Pluralistic Age, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B.
Eerdmans, 1999), 80.
6 See Harold O. J. Brown, The Sensate
Culture: Western Civilization Between Chaos and Transformation, (Dallas:
Word Publishing, 1996), for a full discussion of our sensate culture.
7 E.g., Viagra(r)and related drugs.
8 Edmund D. Pellegrino, “The Good
Samaritan in the Marketplace: Managed Care’s Challenge to Christian Charity,” in
The Changing Face of Health Care: A Christian Appraisal of Managed Care,
Resource Allocation, and Patient-Caregiver Relationships, ed. John F.
Kilner, Robert D. Orr, and Judith Allen Shelley (Grand Rapids: William B.
Eerdmans, 1998), 113-114.
9 Adapted from J.L. Austin, How to Do
Things with Words (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1962).
10 Daniel W. Brock, “Facts and values in the
physician-patient relationship,” in Edmund D. Pellegrino, Robert M. Veatch, J.P.
Langan, Ethics, Trust, and the Professions: Philosophical and Cultural
Aspects (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 1991), 113.
11 This is not uncommon in some Eastern
cultures.
12 David O. Weber, “Unethical Business
Practices in U. S. Health Care Alarm Physician Leaders,” Physician Executive,
March-April (2005), 13.
13 May, Physician’s Covenant, 131.
14 Pellegrino, 109.
15 Alastair V. Campbell, “The Patient as
Consumer,” Br J Gen Pract 40 (1990), 131.
16 Weber, “Unethical Business,” 9.
17 See Kenman L. Wong, “For Patients and
Profits: Business Ethics for Managed Care Organizations,” in The Changing
Face of Health Care: A Christian Appraisal of Managed Care, Resource Allocation,
and Patient-Caregiver Relationships, ed. John F. Kilner, Robert D. Orr, and
Judith Allen Shelley (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1998), 145-161.
18 Ibid, 151.
19 A discussion of the full effects of the
commodification of medicine is beyond the scope of this essay. Table 1 lists
some of the more common examples. A review of some of these will suffice to
provide evidence of the thesis.
20 This is reflected in the attitude of the
Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services of the U. S. Department of Health and
Human Services that they are not a payer for medical services, but a
purchaser of health care.
21 Robert Lowes, “Managed Care,” Medical
Economics, 19 (2002), 3. Downloaded on July 19, 2006 from
http://www.memag.com/content/printContentPopup.jsp?id=116459.
22 Bill Steiger, “Poll Finds Physicians Very
Wary of Pay-for-Performance Programs,” Physician Executive,
November-December (2005), 6.
23 This is data from randomized,
double-blinded, prospective studies. This kind of data is hard to come by and
in some cases the studies themselves are unethical to perform. For example,
sham operations would need to be performed to classify the results of a surgical
procedure according to Class 1 evidence.
24 In a case that I witnessed firsthand, a
young employed doctor in an urgent care coded almost all of his visits as 99204,
sometimes not even examining the patients!
25 Lowes, 1.
26 A hospitalist typically is an internal
medicine specialist whose practice is limited to care of inpatients in a
hospital setting. He does not see patients for follow-up or ongoing health
maintenance. Primary care physicians, choosing not to provide continuity of
care for their patients in the hospital, rely on hospitalists to care for their
patients while hospitalized.
27 Hal Minnigan, Carey D. Chisholm, “Conflict
of Interest in the Physician Interface with the Biomedical Industry,” Emerg
Med Clin N Am 24 (2006), 672.
28 Ibid, 674.
29 Ibid, 680.
30 Ibid, 676.
31 Jerome P. Kassirer, “Excerpts from: On
the Take,” Physician Executive, March-April (2005), 31.
32 Available at
http://www.ama-assn.org/ama/upload/mm/369/1847code.pdf.
33 I pass these three examples each day on my
way to work.
34 See J. M. Read, R. M. Ratzen, “Yellow
Professionalism: Advertising by Physicians in the Yellow Pages, NEJM 316
(1987), 1315-1319.
35 This implies, of course, on the part of the
counselor, that in order to be ethical he “hires” an expert on the basis of his
expertise, not his ability to help the client’s cause.
36 William Osler, Aequanimitas and Other
Addresses, 3rd ed. (Philadelphia: Blakeston, 1932).
37 Scott B. Rae and Paul M. Cox,
Bioethics: A Christian Approach in a Pluralistic Age, (Grand Rapids: William
B. Eerdmans, 1999), 140.
38 William F. May, Testing the Medical
Covenant: Active Euthanasia and Health Care Reform, The Institute of Religion
Series on Religion and Health Care, #2 (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans,
1996), 9. (Emphasis in the original.)
39 Kenneth
V. Iserson, “Ethical Principles — Emergency Medicine,” Emerg Med Clin N Am
24 (2006), 516.