Public vs. Private Health Care: A Case Study

January 11th, 2010

I recently had the opportunity of visiting the emergency room at a big university hospital close to where I live (as a “customer,” unfortunately). It is safe to say that I was positively surprised by this experience. Of course, being from Sweden I expected something similar to the emergency rooms back home; Sweden is a socialist country, but it is not a backward, third world kind of place – the quality of health care is generally the same as in the US.

Since I have experience from visiting a big university emergency room in Sweden as well, this is the perfect opportunity to tell the world of my experience in a comparative case study. Both visits are from college towns, which should mean that a lion’s share of the population is very young and, one would presume, healthy. (For the sake of clarity: neither of the case studies involve ambulance but only walk-in emergency care. And in neither of the cases was for very serious medical problems, so don’t worry – I’m fine.)

The university hospital I visited here in the US is part of a very big, public university, so the comparison is not one of purely private vs. public. But it is safe to say that the differences between the two cases is primarily due to institutional differences: health care in the US is to a large extent paid for via [private] health insurance whereas all emergency care in Sweden is legally a public monopoly. There may be differences due to regional factors, traditions, culture, etc too – but since I have experience of both systems and it is easily shown that the quality of care in Sweden and the US is basically the same, I would say one can be fairly certain that the general differences shown in this case study are typical.

Let me first briefly tell you about my experience here in the US. After entering there were two desks with friendly ladies immediately greeting the care-seeker and asking what’s wrong. To the right, there was a small waiting room with probably 15-20 nice chairs for relatives and others who wait for their loved ones. One man was there playing with his child, probably waiting for the child’s mother (or sibling), despite it being around lunch-time.

After asking a few short questions and getting insurance information, a nurse appeared from the door three feet away with a wheel chair and I was immediately taken into a room with three nurses hooking up whatever machines they believed they needed, taking tests, etc. I also had to put my signature on two papers, the purpose of which was explained clearly by one of the nurses.

A physician came in and asked several more questions and took some more tests while looking at one of the flat screen monitors showing heart rate, blood pressure and numerous other things. Ten minutes later a nurse came by to take an X-ray, and some more tests were taken. And then, as seems to always be the case no matter what country one is in, I was left on my bed waiting for test results. There were frequently nurses checking in on me to see that I was alright.

Two hours later I was released with a prescription and advice on how to get well and with printouts of instructions what to do if there are further symptoms, when and where to make appointments for follow-ups etc. What is striking about this visit is that they asked for my ID (and insurance card), but nobody asked for payment or even discussed coverage etc.

The Swedish case is quite different. Instead of entering into a foyer with nurses greeting you, you step right into a waiting room with numerous people in it (Swedish emergency rooms are for some reason always packed with people). The first thing you do is take a ticket from the machine with your number on it, and then you go to the desk in the far end to register with the receptionist. Note that the purpose of a receptionist in this “free” public health care system is to receive payment for the visit or get your personal information for billing (the out-of-pocket cost would be approximately $45, but depending on what regional political unit you are in) and make sure you await your turn.

Next to the receptionist’s desk there is a closed, wheel chair approved (extra-wide) door next to a window covered with drapes on the inside. Behind that door is the screening room with a nurse seeing one person at a time trying to make a preliminary diagnosis in order to establish priority. You may speak to the nurse when it is your turn (that’s the number on your ticket!), but until then you will have to sit down if there are available chairs or otherwise stand waiting.

My experience is that most people in the waiting room are not seriously ill. In fact, I’ve seen retired people munching on cookies and drinking coffee from thermoses while talking to their friends. (You would not often find vending machines in these kinds of places in Sweden – I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.) It has seemed to me that they are in the ER to socialize with their friends rather than seek care; my guess is that they are feeling lonely or that they may have a headache or something that a Tylenol would take care of (old people’s common headaches is a real problem for ambulance emergency care!).

If you are in serious pain you will need to call an ambulance, even if it is not life-threatening or even urgent. Why? Because the wait in the emergency room could take hours – several hours. Without revealing too much about my own or my loved ones’ medical conditions, let me assure you that I’ve been in the emergency room at this Swedish university hospital where the the person seeking care has been in tremendous pain – but we have still been directed to sit down and await our turn (the receptionist makes the call, it seems).

When it is finally your turn, you may enter the room with the screening nurse. If it is serious, as it was in the case I’m describing, he or she will pretty soon realize that urgent care is necessary and then immediately notify a physician and the patient to a room (the rooms, I’ve noticed, are the same in Sweden and the US: they are basically rooms with three walls with the fourth wall being a curtain or glass door). The care is basically the same, even though you would likely experience more wait time in Sweden and you would not see as many people checking in on you.

The physician and nurses will take tests, check your heart rate and blood pressure etc. It is unlikely that you will be hooked up to a digital screen showing all this, but if you are (perhaps if your condition requires continuous control of values) it will not likely be a flat screen but one of those old green-and-black computer screens mounted to the wall or the ceiling.

One obvious difference is that comfort is not a priority in Swedish care; whereas nurses will frequently ask you if you are okay and adjust your seat or bed or whatever in the US, you will most likely be left alone on a rather uncomfortable bunk in Sweden. Also, you will notice that physicians and nurses in Sweden wear their own clothes with a white robe on top (some nurses do wear the white pajamas-like health care suits seen in the US), while in the US everybody seems to wear the pajamas-looking suits in different colors (green, blue, etc).

As I said earlier, the quality of care is about the same. It is a myth that public systems necessarily have lower quality care; they don’t always, and the reason for this is probably that poor quality is easily seen and will be “fixed” by politicians seeking reelection (through legal guarantees or whatever). But anyone with a little economics understanding knows that if quality is the same while out-of-pocket costs basically approach zero, it will shift (increase) demand. Supply, on the other hand, will not increase and is even likely, due to the empirically established law of sky-rocketing costs in public bureaucracies, to decrease.

The result is, of course, excess demand or shortage; in other words, health care is of good quality but is generally less accessible. In this case study,the inaccessibility of health care through the ER is due to the long waits in the waiting room (and also why you won’t see that many people checking up on you while admitted) – and the reason for this is characterized by the elderly having an ER picnic (which is, I must emphasize, something I have experienced myself).

So what do we learn from this case study? Well, first we need to stress that neither system is private – they are both shades of public. Furthermore, health care culture is not very different in terms of how and and what quality of care is given. The major difference is that there is less public bureaucracy in the US case (and, consequently, more of private market) due to private insurance financing. Therefore, the differences between the cases are due to these institutional differences: the level of reliance on political vs market solutions.

The funny thing in this is that one cannot conclude that emergency care in the US is better because it costs more. This is not true; Swedish health care is among the most expensive in the world, as is US health care. Any differences are marginal and the differences are not seen across the board: Swedish health care is more expensive in certain kinds of care whereas American ditto is more expensive in other kinds. No conclusions can be drawn due to costs or availability of capital (even though, of course, insurance companies try to keep costs down in the US while this role is taken on by the political system in Sweden).

It is also interesting that the obvious differences so easily can be explained by economic reasoning. Taking a principles course in micro economics gives us all the tools necessary to explain and understand the differences between American and Swedish health care – and economics perfectly predicts the outcomes of the systematic difference.

What we should learn from this is not, however, to always ask economists for advice. It is true that economics provides the tools to identify and assess pros and cons, but there is a lot of bullshittery going on by economists. One has to be open-minded and realize that institutions and context matter – and need to be considered in an economic analysis. Krugman-type economists would consciously overlook certain obvious problems/costs of public bureaucratic organization while they would over-emphasize semi-relevant benefits. So when asking economists, one must know what to expect.

What we can learn is what is strikingly obvious: artificial incentives created by a public system with no access to [internal and/or external] prices and not subject to competition cause problems due to the inability (indeed, impossibility) to calculate the best use of resources. The effect is higher cost and lower output, hence the inaccessibility of Swedish health care.

On Comprehensive Exams

November 26th, 2009

It is undoubtedly the case that most students do not only accept the state of things, but they never even question why things are the way they are. This should perhaps not be loathed, since the answer most students would be likely to get upon questioning is “this is the way it has always been – deal with it.” That’s not much of an answer.

In my program, in contrast to most PhD programs, there has not been a formal and required exam as part of the program. Recently, however, this has changed. The reason for this is that the department has received poor scores in peer reviews and that the dissertations produced by students have not always been of the best quality. Fair enough, poor results should lead to change in order to effectuate improvement.

The reaction by the department is to increase the number of tests students have to take, and this is – as far as I understand – imposed retroactively also on students in the “old” program. Not only will there be a qualifying exam after the student has finished the program’s core course, but there is a paper to be submitted after the second year and a comprehensive exam as part of the dissertation proposal.

This is where I get confused. I fully understand the attempt to “control” that students have indeed understood the materials in the courses before they get to move on and start working on their research. But then, when they have reached the point where they are to defend their dissertation proposal to their committee, does it make sense to have another written test?

I think not.

It is easy to see how the faculty obviously panicked and felt the need to “do something.” Another test is however the wrong way to go. To understand this, let’s have a look at the process leading up to the dissertation defense. This process means the student works alone and/or together with his/her advisor to produce a text introducing the problem, the literature, what value is to be produced, the methods to do so and the expected problems and results.

When one’s advisor finds that the student is ready to defend the proposal and the committee has had a chance to review and comment on the proposal, then the student is invited to orally defend the proposal. The committee will ask questions and make sure the student knows what he’s/she’s doing. That’s fine; after all, the student is supposed to learn how to do research.

But at this point, what does a written test based on the material in the proposal add to the process? This is difficult to understand. It is especially troublesome since the comprehensive exam is a written test with limited time and closed books. How many researchers would you guess study the literature to the point of memorization before they write grant applications and research project plans? Of course they don’t – why would they? It is a waste of time to memorize details of others’ research that may not be relevant. And even to the point it is relevant, the articles and books are always available and need to be reread a thousand times in order to produce a fair analysis.

So “real” researchers don’t do that – but students should?

But maybe there is a reason to test the students – for sake of quality. Sure, this could be the case. Let’s have a look at this argument: students are to write a closed-book, memorization-testing exam on the material on which they are to do research in order for the department/faculty to make sure that the dissertation will be of good quality. Of course, for this to be even close to a real solution we need to assume that memorization of material makes one’s own research better and that the test as constructed by the committee does just this. Also, we need to assume the committee consists of experts in the exact area chosen by the student for research.

But remember the process as discussed briefly above. No student gets to defend his/her dissertation proposal without the consent and approval of the advisor. So if the department has experienced low-quality dissertations the problem is really that advisors don’t take their job seriously and let students defend their dissertation proposals prematurely. (We here ignore the troublesome fact that committees seem to consistently have chosen to approve proposals and dissertations of poor quality.)

So it must be concluded that the comprehensive test, as it is designed in my department, can only be seen as a test of whether the advisor has done his/her job properly. If the student is allowed to defend the dissertation proposal he or she must have already been deemed “ready” to do so by the advisor (and committee). So the student needs to take a comprehensive exam on the basis for his/her own research because the department cannot trust the advisor to do his/her job?

I guess this is where the pseudo-arguments “but everybody else does this” and “this is how it has always been done” are added. After all, without these pseudo-arguments there would be nothing left. The students are forced to literally waste weeks of their lives memorizing details of research they already know in order for the department to know the advisor and committee have done what they are supposed to.

If the problem is that some advisors (I doubt it is even a majority) allow their students to defend their proposals (and dissertations?) prematurely, then it is reasonable to assume the faculty already know who they are. But they are obviously afraid to bring this out in the open, possibly because they are likely to make enemies with people they have to work with for the rest of their lives. After all, academia spells t-e-n-u-r-e and this means life-long service in the same department. So it is a lot easier to have students jump through another hoop for the sake of appearing to assure quality and thereby saving face and avoid making enemies.

So what does this mean? It means, of course, that I will have to spend a lot of time memorizing things I believe my committee members believe is important in the material relevant for my research. It also means a break from my line of thinking and this, in turn, means I will have to start over with the research project – thereby losing even more time. Then I can finally do the research that I am in the department to do in the first place.

For the record, I sincerely doubt my advisor would allow me to defend an unfinished proposal. Instead, he would be frank with me and tell me that my proposal simply doesn’t cut it. After all, I am working with him to produce a document that will be approved by the committee (the advisor usually has the last word) – and if not, then the advisor has obviously not done his job. So this means I am not really affected by the new rules, except for the hoop-jumping part: I will most likely have to take the test. In order for the department to know “for sure” (if there is  such a thing) that my advisor has done his job.

It also means I will have to memorize a bunch of stuff that I am likely to challenge in my own research. I fail to understand how memorizing [at least some] conclusions that I am sure are wrong, or at least drawn on faulty bases, would help me, unless it is the case that I have misunderstood the articles and that another read will help me understand this mistake (both conditions are, of course, necessary for this to not be a complete waste of time).

Does this help my research? I sincerely doubt it. Does it potentially improve the quality of my future dissertation? Not a chance. The reason for this is that what is important in a PhD student’s research is not whether articles have been memorized, but whether (1) he or she can think (which is undoubtedly a scarce quality in academia…) and (2) if he or she has received proper guidance from his/her advisor.

The former is not dependent on a formal test such as the now offered comprehensive exam. In fact, if the student can think intellectually a dumb memorization-based test is likely to either bore the student (hopefully not to such a degree that he/she decides there are more worthwhile activities to spend lifetime on) or dull his/her mind.

The latter is also independent on any formal test of the student, since guidance is rarely testable and what is important is finding and understanding the literature. Both should be easy to identify in a proposal and oral defense, whereas they are both quite impossible to test in a formal written exam.

So why enforce a comprehensive exam, especially if in addition to a qualifying exam and a required two-year research paper? I have, I believe, suggested the true reasons above. But it must be concluded that since there is no logical reason to test whether a student has memorized the existing literature, especially since what is of importance is the judgment of primarily the advisor and secondarily the committee, there is no real reason to have such a test.

Sometimes the world isn’t very rational. Or, perhaps, in a tug-o-war world where one’s turf is everything one has, the only thing one can do is jump through the right hoops and hope for the best.

But please do prove that this disillusioned student is but a little confused.

The Scary World of Self-Proclaimed Scholars

May 29th, 2009

As someone who is aiming for a career in academia and, hence, with academics or scholars, I get to see quite a bit of what is going on “behind the scenes” in university departments. I also get to know quite a few people who claim to be scholars (and they are truly not) as well as people who use only the dirtiest tricks they can find to belittle, denigrate, and smear fellow scholars that they don’t like.

Some people are truly narrow-minded jerks, and quite a few of them seem to have taken refuge to academic departments at publicly financed universities. Most of them, it seems, are simply not interested in creating knowledge, finding the truth, and all the other things most of us would probably expect from researchers and professors.

Whereas I could write this blog post on all the little things that I have discovered and that have annoyed me, I will only discuss something that I find particularly annoying and unworthy anyone working with science: conscious and purposeful smearing for the sake of … smearing.

The art of undermining somebody’s authority and reputation through spreading rumors and attacking them behind their backs is practiced in most trades, and so too in academia. One should not assume that scientists, supposedly fact-oriented and logically stringent seekers of The Truth, do not play dirty tricks on each other and spend enormous amounts of time and energy waging and fighting petty faction wars in departments or even within offices. Politics seems to be a “natural” part of most organized  bodies of people in which they do not naturally and solely share a specific aim.

In any case, academia is just like any other such body but perhaps more puerile. The hierarchy is very fixed while often informal and it is a highly held custom to kick on anyone who’s on a lower level. Also, if there is something you do not like – do not hesitate to attack their person rather than their research, and do whatever you can to make straw-man arguments with as sarcastic tone as possible.

There are plenty of examples of such behavior, but perhaps Brad DeLong‘s treatment of Austrian Economics is the best recent example. Not only do comments correcting Dr. DeLong’s assertions mysteriously disappear from his blog or are as mysteriously shortened, but he does not give people disagreeing with him a chance. He is simply not interested in other views. Scholarly? Not very.

Steve Horwitz comments on DeLong (all the necessary links to comments back and forth are provided by Horwitz; Mellon was President Hoover’s Treasury Secretary):

First, DeLong cuts off the part of Murphy’s post where he provides the evidence that Hoover rejected that view and that it did not dominate his administration.  Brutally dishonest.  Bob replies in the comments, and I follow up.  DeLong then truncates the part of MY comment where I point to Larry White’s JMCB paper that demonstrated that even MELLON was not a “liquidationist” and neither were the Austrians.

This is not a very unusual or extreme behavior and Brad DeLong is hardly an extremist (extremely ignorant and puerile, maybe – but not an extremist). Rather, this is quite common behavior in the land of academia, where everybody’s constantly guarding their turf and aren’t interested in any arguments or facts unless they strengthen their own view.

The fact is that most academics are hardly sholars; they are mostly people who are too smart for politics but too lazy to do the work necessary to be successful in any other trade. And many professors have never even tried any other line of work. In fact, some even look down upon people with experience outside of academia as if that would be something despicable.

Academia and science simply doesn’t work the way it theoretically should, i.e. the way John Stuart Mill defended free speech: only through allowing everybody to speak their opinion can we have sufficient ground to weed out the obviously bad and false. If academia would work this way, it would be eagerly receptive to new ideas and not only accept but even long for new perspectives and challenging ways of explaining real phenomena. Embracing the ideas of the one who challenges you and what you believe in is the way towards scientific progress.

The fact is that academia works in a way that is quite the opposite. New ideas are not embraced; rather, they are fought, silenced, and ridiculed – and editors of scientific journals even refuse to publish papers that are too “controversial.” To be published, new scientific results need to be “scientifically correct” rather than true to the facts.

I guess the question that pops up in your mind now, dear reader, is why the heck I so badly want to be part of this? My answer is that there are a number of exceptions to this rule and that working with but one true scholar and a hundred nitwits is a privilege – it is very rewarding to be around and work with a true genious. Also, I love doing what professors do: I love research and I love teaching – I could even spend ours on committees without necessarily being bored to death.

What scares me, however, is that there are so many “great” self-proclaimed scholars out there that do not know what the word means. And that they fall to such low levels in ways of fighting their petty turf wars. I am scared about this fact, but I am not afraid of them nor what they do. My background in politics have prepared me for the worst, and the fact is that I too can play this game – and I have formal training through 15 years in politics, which most academics do not. They will not know what hit them.

So I say: let me do what I do best and do your worst in honest critiquing of my work. And if you cannot, but prefer to fight dirty, bring it on. It is not a threat, it is a promise.