How the Anechoic Effect Is Institutionalized - A Hospital Policy Against Unsupervised Discussion with the Media

In a single sentence, a short, obscure article in the Worcester (MA) Business Journal on life at a community hospital after a for-profit corporate take-over:

Several Nashoba employees, who didn't want their names used because it's against hospital policy to talk to the media without authorization, said they're happy with the new insurance plan.

We have often discussed the anechoic effect, how cases involving or discussions of the topics we address on Health Care Renewal, the concentration and abuse of power in health care, fail to produce any responses, or echoes.  It was almost an aside, but the sentence above provides evidence of the existence of apparently blanket hospital policies against unsupervised discussion with the media. Here is an example of the institutionalization of the anechoic effect.

This example raises three immediate questions. How prevalent is this? How long has it been going on? What is it meant to hide?

Prevalence

This article is only about a single hospital. However, the context of the article is the take-over of Nashoba Hospital by Steward Health Care. Steward Health Care is a for-profit health care corporation that grew out of the take-over of the formerly not-for-profit Caritas Christi health system by the private equity firm Cerberus Capital Management. Steward Health Care now comprises  eight hospitals, and also owns physician practices (apparently including over 2000 doctors based on a quick search using its "doctor finder" function.) Thus it is likely that the policy at Nashoba Hospital that prevents unsupervised discussion with the media also applies at seven other hospitals, and perhaps to the practices of over 2000 doctors. Thus it is very likely that this hospital gag policy is not unique, and may be widespread. However, recursively, the existence of such gag policies will make it hard to determine their own prevalence.

Note that we have posted a few times about confidentiality clauses mainly within physicians' contracts here.

Duration

This policy is likely relatively new, since the take-over of Caritas Christi by Cerberus occurred in 2010. My guess is that the rise of such policies may parallel the resurgence of for-profit hospitals and hospital systems, and perhaps the new involvement of private equity firms in such organizations.

In my humble experience, gag policies and confidentiality clauses at least within non-profit teaching hospitals were virtually unheard of from the time I began medical school (1974) to when I left my last full-time academic medical position (2005).

Note that we recently found out (because of investigative journalism about presidential candidate Mitt Romney's previous involvement with private equity firm Bain Capital) that such firms are generally rebranded leveraged buy-out firms. They have become known for their secretiveness. Therefore, maybe it should not be surprising that they have imposed such secretiveness on hospitals and health care professionals.

Rationale 

The big question is why should hospital employees not be allowed to talk to the media without management supervision? I can only speculate.

In this case, perhaps such secretiveness is just the habit of the private equity executives who now run the hospital system. Even if this is the reason, they ought to reconsider. Hospitals and health care professionals due have a solemn obligation to keep confidential their patients' medical information. However, otherwise health care organizations and health care professionals ought to be as transparent as possible.

Maintaining such a level of secrecy could lead to some suspicions, for example, that the generic managers of the organization distrust the professionals they hire who actually provide patient care; worse, that the managers fear discussion that might question their actions or abilities; worse, that the managers want to silence whistle-blowers; or even worse, that the managers have something unethical or illegal to hide. That is all speculation, of course.

On the other hand, we have discussed again and again how the anechoic effect has stifled discussion of what is wrong with health care, and hence prevented meaningful health care reform. Gagging hospital employees is an obvious extension and institutionalization of the anechoic effect. It should not be done, because we need honest discussion of what is really wrong with health care so we can come up with some real solutions.

The Perils of Physicians Practicing as Corporate Employees: the Contract Trap

A seriously chilling cautionary tale corroborated some of my previously expressed fears about the perils of physicians practicing as corporate employees.  It unlikely venue was the April 25, 2011 issue of Medical Economics.  The article, not yet on the web, was "Selling to a Corporation Poses Challenges," by Todd R C Neely.

Here is how the case started:

A start-up company with a new medical treatment became a publicly traded corporation. The company's top managers were not physicians; they were finance and business experts familiar with the ways of Wall Street.

To meet the corporation's goals and Wall Street expectations, the company used stock sale proceeds to aggressively market itself to doctors and buy established physician practices around the country. It quickly captured market share, exponentially raised the number of patients by the practices it owned, and developed substantial revenue streams.

The physicians who sold their practices thought that selling would be a win-win situation for them and for the corporation. As marketed to them, the company would handle the business aspects of owning a medical practice - the ubiquitous paperwork, employee issues, and all the rest of the nonclinical task so distasteful to doctors. The physicians would spend all their work time practicing medicine using the latest technology. Benefiting from the company's promotion to the public, they would see an increase in their patient base. They would receive a base salary and, most significantly, a percentage of the profits of their practice.

But here is how things turned out:

Everything was great until the end of the first year. The physicians expected large payments from their practices' increased profits, but the large bonuses never came.

What went wrong? The physicians were so blinded by the marketing pitch that they apparently never read the fine print:

In negotiating the sale of the practices and the employee contracts, the doctors had not required the company to specify in writing what expenses the corporation would charge an individual practice and what accounting rules would be followed. So the corporation charged the practices for marketing, accounting, human resources, financing, and other services, wiping out the profits of each practice.

The contracts were apparently designed by the corporation to favor all its interests (which should not have been surprising), but was accepted as is by the physicians:

The contracts specified in precise terms the physicians' responsibilities, noncompete provisions, confidentiality, dispute resolution and the like. But although the contracts stated the corporation's initial responsibilities - mainly making payment on the negotiated purchase price - it phrased the company's other obligations in remarkably vague terms, or, astonishingly, did not specify them at all. The company was to make its 'best efforts' to accomplish certain goals, but the contract left the phrase 'best efforts' undefined. The phrase turned out to be quite malleable. The company's other responsibilities were to be determined at a later, unspecified time.

The company's best efforts always turned out to be whatever efforts it chose to make.

It was a trap,baited by marketing, into which the physicians neatly fell:

Many sought legal advice and were told they had no legal resource. The noncompete clauses - fair provisions under the contract terms to which the physicians thought they were agreeing but that were disastrous under the terms (or lack thereof) of the actual contract - were broad, tight, specific, and ironclad. Many of the physicians even were barred from practicing medicine within the geographic area in which they lived. And under the equally ironclad confidentiality clause, the doctors could not publicly discuss their situations or, for that matter, anything else of significance about the corporation; if they did, they would be subject to high fines and penalties.

What had appeared to the doctors as a mutually beneficial situation turned into a nightmare for them. They lost their practices and money and took years to recover. They had no legal recourse. They could not even warn others. The corporation could, and did, continue with impunity.

Note that it is now obvious why the article was so vague about the identity of the corporation and the physicians it ensnared, and why it took so long for even such a vague version of this story to surface. The confidentiality (and probably anti-disparagement) clauses made it hazardous for anyone who signed these contracts to be forthright witnesses. 

Obviously, the willingness of corporations to employ such clauses means that there may be many more cases like this out there, hidden behind the veil of contractual restrictions on free speech.

We previously discussed how physicians often seem willing to blithely sign contracts without fully understanding them, thereby sacrificing their economic well-being and core values.  Here is another striking case of this phenomenon.  We previously attributed this tendency to learned helplessness. 

The author of this article, however, suggested  that physicians were victims of carefully targeted marketing based on psychological manipulation.  It was meant to capitalize on three major factors: physicians' naive belief that everyone involved with medicine is interested in helping people by behaving rationally and logically; physicians' over-confidence in their ability to avoid failure (presumably including failure due to ignorance or misinterpretation of legal contracts); and physicians' feelings of entitlement. 

In addition, the physicians seemed (probably foolishly) unaware that corporate executives are not interested in physicians' core values:

Unlike physicians, the corporation and its top executives, non-doctors all, were involved in the practice of medicine solely to make money; the medical practices, and the very practice of medicine, were just commodities [to them].

This observation corresponds with numerous observations about how leaders of health care organizations may ignore, or be expressly hostile towards physicians' core values. Thus, while the article went on to give some straight-forward advice about negotiating combined practice buy-out and corporate employment agreements, it becomes obvious that the main lesson is: physicians should not practice medicine as corporate employees. They should not sell their practices to and become employees of for-profit corporations as a way to practice medicine.  Otherwise, rather than being practitioners, they will end up as medical assembly line workers for bosses who only care about the revenue they generate.

Physicians who have already inadvertently, foolishly, or under duress signed contracts that could threaten their professionalism and their patients' welfare need to do the right thing and challenge these contracts.  , or else there will soon be nothing left of the medical profession, and no one left to ethically care for patients. 

With each new anecdote, it becomes clearer that the corporate practice of medicine will end up exploiting physicians and patients alike. So there is also a main lesson for patients: you should not go to doctors who are corporate employees, or practices or clinics that are run by corporations. If you do, you will end up being used only as a means for the bosses to make money.

At a policy level, if we do not stop the corporate practice of medicine, we will all end up as increasingly unhealthy cogs in the corporate health care machine. 

"You Can't Say That" - Non-Disparagement Clauses and the Anechoic Effect

Here is another example of why health care organizations' leaders are different from you and me, and why that may not be a good thing for health care.  A few days ago, the San Jose (California) Mercury News reported on the upcoming departure of a local hospital CEO:

El Camino Hospital's handsomely-paid president and CEO Kenneth Graham is out of a job, the hospital announced Thursday afternoon.

Graham's contract will end June 30 'without cause, at the request of the hospital's Board of Directors,' according to a statement released to the media.

Until then, Graham will continue to fulfill his duties as the hospital's top administrator, according to the statement. Graham has been president and CEO of the hospital for 4½ years.

The brief statement did not explain why Graham has been ousted, focusing instead on his accomplishments. Graham earns an annual base salary of $632,640.

Not only was the CEO "handsomely paid," he will be handsomely paid to depart, as reported two days later by the same newspaper:

Former El Camino Hospital president and CEO Ken Graham may be out of a job, but he won't be hurting for a paycheck anytime soon.

Fired 'without cause' by the hospital's board of directors on Wednesday, Graham is now entitled to nearly $1 million in severance pay, according to his contract, which the hospital provided to The Daily News on Friday.

Specifically, the hospital will pay Graham a lump sum of 18 months' salary when he officially steps down June 30. Based on his annual salary of $632,640, he would receive $948,960.

The reporter could not get any clearer fix on the reason for his departure:

Hospital officials Friday were tight-lipped about their decision to drop Graham. Reached by phone, board Chairman Wesley Alles would only say it was 'without cause.'

'I guess as a generic (explanation) the only thing I can say is it's without cause, that (the board wants to take) some different directions, perhaps, as a generic (explanation),' Alles said.

El Camino Hospital spokeswoman Chris Ernst said she couldn't say more than what was written in a statement released to the media Thursday, which simply stated Graham's contract was ended 'without cause, at the request of the hospital's Board of Directors.'

'I know everyone wants to know if there's something really there, but it was clearly without cause,' Ernst said. 'It's not like you can point to one particular thing and say this is why this action was taken.'

Now wasn't that informative? It appears the CEO was let go "without cause." But reporter Diana Samuels did uncover why nobody was saying anything meaningful about this lucrative departure:

The contract also includes a 'non-disparagement' clause, which says the hospital and Graham cannot make any statements about each other that could cause 'any embarrassment or humiliation or otherwise reflect negatively on the other party(ies).'

I discussed the subject of executive contracts with one of our Health Care Renewal scouts who knows about such things. For high level executives in business, seemingly tidy severance packages are the rule.  We have discussed the problem with excess executive compensation in health care here.

Furthermore, various confidentiality, non-compete, and non-disparagement clauses are often common.

However, whether or not these are common practices in the larger business world, these contract provisions, especially non-disparagement clauses, pose problems in health care.  As we have discussed, there are lots of good reasons that the governance and leadership of health care ought to be maximally transparent.

Just to provide one example, consider the problem of medical errors, a subject which has received unending discussion since the report by Institute of Medicine entitled "To Err is Human."  One widely espoused doctrine about medical error prevention is that such errors ought to be disclosed and discussed openly so that their root causes can be found, and methods to prevent them developed.  Now suppose, for example, that the CEO of a hospital had discovered some medical errors, but made himself unpopular by pursuing them.  Were he to have a bilateral non-disparagement clause in his contract, and were this unpopularity to cause him to lose his job, he could say nothing about these errors, possibly allowing them to recur, but more seriously.  Of course, the example could be turned on its head.  Suppose the CEO had introduced a new process that was thought to be the cause of such errors.  Were he to lose his job because of this, hospital officials could say nothing about the problem, etc, etc.  Similarly, other problems at the hospital either discovered by the CEO or possibly caused by the CEO could remain anechoic due to non-disparagement clauses in hospital executives' contracts.

Of course, in the current case, the CEO might have left due to simple personality differences, and his departure might have nothing to do with medical errors, etc, etc.

However, this case suggests that the sort of non-disparagement clauses that may appear in contracts for executives in various type of businesses have metastasized to contracts for hospital executives.  These clauses, and their cousins, confidentiality clauses and non-compete clauses, may be major reasons for the anechoic effect, and the general lack of transparency of hospital leadership and governance. 

However, up to now, such clauses seem to be, you guessed it, anechoic in discussions of health care policy and health care reform. 

Thus, one step to true health care reform would be for there to be some open discussion of the reasons we cannot openly discuss many important issues in health care, particularly the likely increasing use of contractual clauses such as non-disparagement clauses.  Likely an even more important step would be discrediting such contractual provisions that reduce transparency.

VCU President Rao's Previous Code of Silence

We recently posted about the code of silence imposed by Virginia Commonwealth University President Stephen Rao on his staff.  It turns out now that this was not his first exercise in imposing a code of silence. Before he was at Virginia Commonwealth University, Rao was President of Central Michigan University.  Central Michigan Life just reported:

While serving as CMU president, Rao required all office employees to sign a similar confidentiality agreement stating all names, places, dates or incidents that happened in his office were not to be shared with anyone or discussed outside the office.

'I understand that the information and all files, letters, projects, telephone calls and anything relating to the work performed in the President’s Office and in my capacity as an employee is highly confidential,' stated the agreement, which was obtained through a Freedom of Information Act request. 'I understand that it may not be discussed with anyone outside this office who does not have a need to know, which includes any other CMU employee, as well as my family members, friends, etc.'

The CMU confidentiality agreement extended past any employee’s tenure at CMU, stating that the contract must not be broken past the term of employment. If an employee were to break the confidentiality agreement past employment, possible consequences included personal liability and potential lawsuits.

Note that just as was the case in Virginia, this agreement placed employees at risk not only of losing their jobs, but of being sued were they to violate the agreement.

By the way, while Central Michigan University does not include a medical school and academic medical center, as does VCU, it does have, and therefore the previous agreement affected the operations of multiple health related programs (see here) including allied health, health administration, physical therapy, and psychology.

As we wrote previously, such a code of silence subverts the university's central mission, and directly opposes the transparency I believe is necessary for good governance in health care.  The discovery of this previous confidentiality agreement at CMU suggests that such agreements may not be rare in health care. 

We have long discussed the anechoic effect in health care, how certain topics and issues are just not to be discussed, especially those that might embarrass or oppose the personal interests of health care leaders.  We have postulated that the effect operates through fear of offending supervisors, colleagues, or those who provide one's pay.  It may be, however, that the anechoic effect has been codified through confidentiality clauses.  As noted above, such codification can mean whistle-blowers may risk lawsuits as well as job loss and ostracism.

If there are other codes of silence operative in health care, I hope that sunlight soon shines upon them. 

That sunlight may cause such codes to shrivel is suggested by President Rao's rescinding of the code at VCU soon after it was made public, as reported by the Richmond Times-Dispatch:

With the board of visitors meeting yesterday to evaluate his performance, Virginia Commonwealth University President Michael Rao rescinded the confidentiality agreements he required employees working in his office to sign.

Rao sent employees a letter Wednesday that said the confidentiality agreements were intended "to protect the privacy of my family, particularly my children, in my home."

'The confidentiality agreements have been the subject of recent scrutiny and criticism and, unfortunately, have been misinterpreted in terms of what I sought to be accomplished by these agreements,' he wrote. 'I sincerely regret any undue burden or ill will that these agreements may have caused. Therefore, I have decided to withdraw all such confidentiality agreements.'

Such codes ought to be perceived as unethical, and perhaps should be made illegal.  Meanwhile, though, the anechoic effect continues.