Walmart’s Primary Care Failure Is Important and a Problem

https://www.kaufmanhall.com/insights/thoughts-ken-kaufman/walmarts-primary-care-failure-important-and-problem

On August 8, 2014, Walmart announced it would expand on its existing five primary care centers to a total of 12 by the end of the year. These centers would offer more extensive services than those provided in Walmart walk-in clinics, including chronic disease management.

On September 13, 2019, Walmart announced it was opening the first expanded Walmart Health center, which would provide patients with primary care, laboratory, X-ray, EKG, counseling, dental, optical, and hearing services, with the “goal of becoming America’s neighborhood health destination.”

On April 30, 2024, Walmart announced it would close all 51 of its health centers in five states, as well as its virtual care services. “The challenging reimbursement environment and escalating operating costs create a lack of profitability that make the care business unsustainable for us at this time,” Walmart said.

Make no mistake, this announcement is a big deal.

Walmart is the largest retailer in the world, with about $650 billion in annual revenue, 10,500 stores in 19 countries, and 2.1 million employees—nearly 1.6 million in the U.S. alone. Healthcare services were an important corporate goal for Walmart, a goal the company pursued with significant financial investment and talented executives. Walmart’s healthcare strategy was carefully mapped out, with an expanding set of services tested in various formats and locations in Walmart’s formidable geographic and online presence.

Of course, one of Walmart’s goals was to create profit for the company through its foray into healthcare.

However, Walmart’s primary care strategy also held great promise for improving the health of the people Walmart serves, as well as reducing overall healthcare costs. A recent study by researchers at the University of Chicago Booth School of Business and University of Chicago Medicine, focusing on more than 500,000 Medicare beneficiaries, found that regular primary care visits were associated with fewer risk-adjusted ED visits and hospitalizations, lower risk-adjusted expenditures, and greater cost savings. According to the study, results improved as the regularity and continuity of care increased, both of which potentially would have been facilitated by the highly accessible and affordable primary care that Walmart aimed to deliver.

These benefits to patients and communities would have been especially powerful in rural America. Walmart plays a central role in the rural ecosystem, both as an economic and a social center. Ninety percent of the population is located within 10 miles of a Walmart.

Four thousand of Walmart’s stores are located in HRSA-designated medically underserved areas. In a time when rural healthcare providers are struggling to remain viable and healthcare deserts are becoming more problematic, Walmart had a unique opportunity to be, as the company itself said, “the front door of healthcare for all Americans.”

That enormous opportunity to tackle one of the most significant and persistent problems in American healthcare has now been lost.

Walmart is a corporation with a great history, a great reputation, great resources, and great operational abilities. If any company could make primary care work effectively and efficiently on a large scale in this country, it should have been Walmart.

But, after nearly two decades of trying, Walmart couldn’t succeed as a healthcare provider.

We can draw at least three important conclusions from Walmart’s healthcare failure.

  1. Healthcare as a cash business is a very difficult business model. Like other retailers, Walmart focused on healthcare as a cash business, providing high-volume, low-price services that consumers would pay for largely out-of-pocket. Walmart’s healthcare failure strongly indicates that, even with Walmart’s U.S. footprint of 4,615 stores and 255 million weekly customers, the company could not generate the volume necessary at acceptable price points to make cash healthcare profitable.
  2. It is unbelievably hard to work around the fundamental reimbursement model of American healthcare. Unable to make healthcare as a cash business work, the company ran smack into America’s unfriendly reimbursement system as its source of revenue. For Walmart as for many other healthcare providers, the predominant payers were Medicare and Medicaid, which, as every hospital executive experiences every day, do not pay at rates sufficient to cover costs—not a workable situation for a profit-oriented company in a capitalistic economy.
  3. Even a behemoth like Walmart could not manage around the current healthcare expense-to-revenue problem. Walmart is a company with all the tools any company could ask for to drive down operating expenses. It has the potential for economies of scale other companies could only dream of. It has processes for logistical efficiency that are viewed world-wide as a model of excellence. Yet even Walmart was unable to solve that most basic of healthcare economic problems: expenses—including labor, supplies, and drugs—are rising faster than revenue. Relatively few healthcare providers are able to achieve a positive margin in this environment, and for those that do achieve a margin, it is usually razor thin.

Obviously, healthcare’s business fundamentals are hard, and now we can see they are hard not only on traditional healthcare providers but also hard on a $650 billion retail company. These business fundamentals are unlikely to change anytime soon.

Walmart’s primary care failure is not only a disappointment for Walmart, but also for the healthcare ecosystem at large. What Walmart was trying to do was important, and that was establish a comprehensive retail system of primary care. Although Walmart’s effort, at least for the moment, has not worked, this is unlikely to be the end of the line. Hospitals and health systems will continue to experiment, will continue to apply their unique visions, their considerable talents, and their enormous dedication to the goal of finding primary care solutions that work for their communities.

As the Walmart failure demonstrates, the challenge is incredibly difficult. But the game must not be over.

The Do’s and Don’ts of Navigating the Health System when you Need It: My First-Hand Experience

I fell down a flight of stairs at 4 a.m. last Wednesday.

It was totally my fault.

Since then, I have used hospital emergency departments in 2 states, a freestanding imaging center and a large orthopedic clinic and I’m just getting started. Six days in, I’m lucky to be alive but I still don’t know the extent of my injuries, my chances of playing golf again nor what I will end up spending on this ordeal. But nonetheless, it could have been worse. I’m alive.

Surprises in all aspects of life are never anticipated fully and always disruptive. This one, for me, is no exception. I am frustrated by my accident and uncomfortable with sudden dependence on others to help navigate my recovery.

But this is also a teachable moment., As I am navigating through this ordeal, I find myself reflecting on the system—how it works or doesn’t—based on what I am experiencing as a patient.

Here’s my top three observations thus far:

The patient experience is defined by the support team:

The heroes in every setting I’ve used are the clerks, technicians, nurses and support staff who’ve made the experiences tolerable and/or reassuring. Patients like me are scared. Emotional support is key: some of that is defined by standard operating procedures and checklists but, in other settings, it’s cultural. Genuineness, empathy and personal attention is easy to gauge when pain is a factor. By the time physicians are on the scene, reassurance or fear is already in play. Care teams include not just those who provide hands-on care, but the administrative clerks and processes that either heighten patient anxiety or lessen fear. The health and well-being of the entire workforce—not just those who deliver hands-on care—matters. And it’s easy to see distinctions between organizations that embrace that notion and those that don’t.

Navigation is no-man’s land:

The provider organizations I’ve used thus far have 3 different owners and 3 different EHR systems. Each offers written counsel about ‘patient responsibility’ and each provides a list of do’s and don’ts for each phase of the process. Sharing test results across the 3 provider organizations is near impossible and coordination of care management is problematic unless all parties agree and protocols facilitating sharing in place.  Perhaps because it was a holiday weekend, perhaps because staffing levels were less than usual, or perhaps because the organizations are fierce competitors, navigating the system has been unusually difficult. Navigating the system in an emergency is essential to optimal outcomes: processes to facilitate patient navigation are not in place.

What’s clear is hospitals, clinics and imaging facilities on different EHR systems don’t exchange data willingly or proactively. And, at every step, getting approvals from insurers a major step in the processes of care.

Price transparency is a non-issue in emergency care: 

The services I am receiving include some that are “shoppable” and many that aren’t. I have no idea what I will end up spending, my out-of-pocket obligations nor what’s to come. I know among the mandatory forms I signed in advance of treatment in all 3 sites were consent forms for treatment and my obligation for payment. But in an emergency, it’s moot: there’s no way to know what my costs will be or my out-of-pocket responsibility. So, the hospital and insurer price transparency rules (2021, 2022) might elevate awareness of price distinctions across settings of care but their potential to bend the cost curve is still suspect.

Patients, like me, have to fend for ourselves. I am a number. Last Wednesday, waiting 85 minutes to be seen was frightening and frustrating though comparatively fast. Duplicative testing, insurer approvals, work-shift transitions, bedside manners, team morale, and sterile care settings seem the norm more than exception.

So, for me, the practical takeaways thus far are these:

  • Don’t have an accident on a holiday weekend.
  • Don’t expect front desk and check-out personnel to engage or answer questions. They’re busy.
  • Don’t expect to start or leave without paying something or agreeing you will.
  • Don’t expect waiting areas and exam rooms to be warm or inviting.
  • Do have great neighbors and family members who can help. For me, Joe, Jordan, Erin and Rhonda have been there.

The health system is complicated and relationships between its major players are tense. Not surprisingly and for many legitimate reasons, my experience, thus far, is the norm. We can do better.

Paul

P.S. As I have reflected on the event last week, I found myself recalling the numerous times I called on “my doctors” to help my navigation of the system. They include Charles Hawes (deceased), Ben Womack, Ben Heavrin, David Maron, David Schoenfeld and Blake Garside. And, in the same context, the huge respect I have for clinicians I’ve known through Vanderbilt and Ohio State like Steve Gabbe and Andy Spickard who personify the best the medical profession has to offer. Thanks gentlemen. What you do matters beyond diagnoses and treatments.  Who you are speaks volumes about the heart and soul of this industry now struggling to re-discover its purpose.

Thought of the Day – Be careful what you tolerate

Allowing others to treat you like a piece of dirt is more than just an acceptance of their behavior, it’s an unspoken lesson to them about your worth and how you expect to be treated.

When you tolerate disrespect, you inadvertently set a standard that says it’s permissible.

It’s crucial to establish boundaries and demand respect, not only for your own dignity but also to cultivate an environment where mutual respect and decency are the norms.

Remember, the way you permit others to treat you is a direct reflection of the value you place on yourself.