At a House Ways and Means Committee hearing, lawmakers targeted pricing and market power while executives pointed to cost pressures and reimbursement gaps.
KEY TAKEAWAYS
House Ways and Means Committee members cast hospitals as central figures contributing to increased costs for patients.
CEOs from major health systems highlighted labor costs, Medicare Advantage delays, and uneven reimbursement.
Ongoing disconnect between lawmakers and hospital leaders continues to affect affordability policy and provider strategy.
A hearing before the House Ways and Means Committee brought hospital finances into focus as lawmakers questioned the drivers of healthcare spending and health system CEOs described the reality facing providers.
The discussion centered on pricing, profit margins, and consolidation, with members of Congress pressing for accountability, while CEOs of HCA Healthcare, CommonSpirit Health, New York-Presbyterian, and ECU Health pointed to cost pressures and reimbursement challenges impacting business decisions.
Though both sides agreed that rising costs remain a significant issue, the hearing illustrated a divide in how those costs are understood. That tension continues to influence both policy proposals and provider strategy as the debate over affordability moves forward.
Committee chairman Jason Smith, R-Mo., opened the hearing by comparing hospital profitability with major corporations and tying that performance to what patients pay for care.
“Hospitals with more than 100 beds have a higher profit margin than Delta Air Lines, Target, or Disney,” Smith said. “Turns out charging an arm and a leg for health care is more lucrative than the Happiest Place on Earth.”
Smith placed responsibility on the entire healthcare system and highlighted insurers, which also faced the committee in January, but stressed that hospitals must answer for their role.
“This committee isn’t interested in hearing about how the high prices your businesses charge are someone else’s fault,” Smith said. “The blame game didn’t work with insurers, and it won’t work today. Simply put, hospitals are charging an insane amount for care. Hospital prices have skyrocketed 300 percent in just over two decades – more than any other sector of our economy.”
That line of questioning reflects a growing focus in Washington on hospital pricing as a central factor in affordability, and a push to rein in price increases through policymaking.
During the hearing, lawmakers raised concerns about the impact of consolidation on negotiated rates, the role of large systems in shaping local markets, and the degree to which higher commercial prices ripple through employers and households.
Executives described a more complex financial picture that extends beyond headline margins.
Sam Hazen, CEO of HCA, acknowledged elements of the committee’s concerns while emphasizing that hospital reimbursement varies widely based on factors like patient mix and acuity.
“There are certain aspects of your discussion here that have merit,” Hazen said. “I think there’s also merit to the hospitals receiving a premium in certain circumstances, so we would be more than willing to work with you on that.”
Payment friction emerged as a recurring theme, particularly in relation to Medicare Advantage. Wright Lassiter III, CEO of CommonSpirit, pointed to delays and denials as a source of strain for large nonprofit systems.
“Medicare Advantage plans are the most challenging today,” he said. “We have $4.3 billion in unpaid Medicare Advantage claims, with nearly $1 billion of that being more than 150 days past due for care that CommonSpirit has delivered to patients and communities that you represent.”
The conversation also turned to consolidation and access in regional markets. Michael Waldrum, CEO of ECU Health, described consolidation as a response to shifting market dynamics rather than a strategy aimed at expanding pricing leverage.
“Consolidation in our market is not driven by preference, it is how we survive,” he said. “As some exit and others enter with profit-driven agendas, systems like ECU Health are left to serve as a safety-net. The result is reduced access, worsening outcomes and increasing costs.”
A statement submitted by the AHA for the hearing reiterated the current pressures facing hospitals, but noted an effort to reduce the cost of care by “improving efficiency, embracing innovative technologies and redesigning how services are delivered.”
The AHA called on insurers, purchasers, drug and supply manufacturers, and policymakers to work together with hospitals on four key areas of the healthcare system: improving the health of individuals and communities, advancing value through care transformation, reducing regulatory and administrative waste, and innovating to improve care quality and outcomes.
However, the gap between how lawmakers view hospital pricing and how health system leaders contend with rising costs and uneven reimbursement continues to limit alignment on policies aimed at improving affordability.
In part two of our conversation below, we discuss potential reforms and policy solutions and how to achieve them.
Miranda is a health policy professor at the University of Pittsburgh and was the Roosevelt Institute’s 2025 author-in-residence.
Stephen Nuñez: You wrote the book before HR1 (the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act,” or OBBBA) was passed. There are myriad ways this bill will make health care worse for people. Is there anything that you’re particularly focused on, given your research into the causes and consequences of this (quasi-)managed-care system we seem to have backed ourselves into?
Miranda Yaver: In addition to the broad coverage losses and increases in administrative burdens associated with enrolling and staying enrolled in health insurance, a couple of things happened. First, with the expiration of the enhanced premium tax credits, those with Affordable Care Act (ACA) marketplace insurance saw their premiums jump up dramatically. That means denials of coverage that do arise may be more harmful because people have less financial wiggle room with which to get creative with stopgap measures.
With both premium increases and new administrative complexity around eligibility verification, there’s also greater potential for patient churn among health insurers, which creates a setting that can lead to myopic coverage decisions from insurers who feel they can pass the buck rather than make up-front investments in patient health. For example, an insurer might deny coverage for a diabetic’s continuous glucose monitor with the expectation that by the time the patient faces costly complications from poorly managed glucose, they’ll be with another insurer.
I think whenever we’re introducing new fiscal pressures in the insurance market, we need to worry about private insurers turning to prior authorization as one way to make up some of that financial deficit.
Stephen: I was joking on social media the other day that if you ask an ordinary person about the American Medical Association (AMA), you’re likely to get positive comments (“doctors are the good guys!”), but if you ask a social scientist you might get a tirade or perhaps a hissing sound. The AMA has since the time of President Franklin D. Roosevelt worked to prevent the expansion of “socialized medicine” and has been a large lobbying barrier to several attempts over the decades to expand public insurance and push industry reform. And yet pre-authorization (and post-procedure coverage denial) undermines doctors’ autonomy and bandwidth in ways that seem to really irk them. Politics can make strange bedfellows, so I’m wondering if you see any fruitful avenues for collaboration with the AMA on this issue?
Miranda:I think that’s absolutely right, and in Coverage Denied, I certainly highlight both perspectives: In chapter one, I walk through the political origins of prior authorization and its entrenchment. It’s hard to talk about the origins of this managed-care tool without reflecting on the yearslong outcry over socialized medicine, but I also highlight the AMA’s more contemporary work around prior authorization and physician burden reduction, as well as broader issues of professional autonomy. The AMA’s physician surveys call attention to the sweeping impact (or at least, perceived impact) of prior authorization—from time and staffing demands to adverse effects on patients. The organization has also led the charge in advocacy and model legislation to do things like regulate the qualifications of reviewing physicians, promote transparency concerning prior authorization requirements, require more timely processing, and reduce the volume of prior authorizations. None of those issues address the broader philosophical objections to prior authorization—that is, that health coverage decisions are being made by companies with fiduciary responsibilities to shareholders rather than by treating physicians—but they do reduce the extent to which patients and their physicians are dealing with the constant headaches of these processes.
The AMA rightly frames these prior authorization headaches as sources of physician burden and burnout. Even if physicians might prefer to do away with prior authorization, and even though promoting transparency and timeliness won’t necessarily result in fewer denials, these reforms could take the guesswork, “black-box” feeling out of prescribing. In turn, physicians could more easily assess whether and when to move on to a plan B rather than endure the protracted delays common under the current system. Regulation of the qualifications of reviewing physicians could (at least on the margins) reduce the odds of erroneous denials that reflect lack of familiarity with more recent treatment protocols outside a doctor’s field of specialty, and which necessitate burdensome appeals to rectify. And even in this highly polarized and gridlocked political climate, some of these measures are passing at the state level with unanimous or near-unanimous support.
But this does not disrupt the reliance on prior authorization or confront the philosophical objections. A larger-scale intervention into this facet of the US health-care system would require more sweeping health reform from Congress than is feasible in the foreseeable future given *gesticulates wildly at the world.* Although the AMA continues to oppose single-payer, over the decades they have become more conciliatory toward issues of health coverage expansion and now support a public option. A public option would certainly move our health insurance system forward because private health insurers (which have been heavily reliant on prior authorization, delays, and denials) would have to compete with a government plan. Still, my money is very much on single-payer—which would extract the profit focus—for delivering the most relief for those in need of health care. But politics is complex and often much more a dynamic of incrementalism than waving a magic wand, and I’m a big believer in moving the needle where we can and when we can, even if the bigger philosophical issues of health insurance delivery will have to wait a few years.
My money is very much on single-payer—which would extract the profit focus—for delivering the most relief for those in need of health care.
Stephen: So we have path dependence, we have a health-care system that is for-profit and generates poor outcomes (for hospitals, doctors, patients, even insurance companies alike), we have a host of actors, and we have the complexities of federalism on top of that. Things feel pretty dire! What are some things we could do at the state and/or federal level to solve or at least mitigate the problems you detail in the book?
Miranda: One area where states have begun to take action is the role of AI, which health insurers are increasingly using to bulk-process claims and prior authorizations. California’s SB 1120, which went into effect this year, stipulates that when insurers’ AI programs recommend denials, they must be reviewed by physicians in the appropriate specialty. These technologies are advancing faster than regulatory oversight tools can keep up with, and unlike the relatively low-stakes penalty assessed when, say, a student uses AI for a paper and hallucinates a citation, when AI programs get health coverage decisions wrong, the consequences can be dire. And especially amid the ongoing litigation against Medicare Advantage plans’ use of AI to deny (with reversal rates of 80–90 percent), this could be a valuable shift.
When AI programs get health coverage decisions wrong, the consequences can be dire.
Some states are doing things that I’m not as fond of: Gold card laws, under which physicians who secure around 92 percent or more approval for their prior authorizations become exempt from these processes. It sounds good at face value, but it’s really replacing one form of physician burden with another because it’s assessed at the plan-service level, such that one might have a wallet full of gold cards to keep track of—a gold card for head CT scans with Aetna and abdominal CTs with Cigna, and so on. Texas’s law was so restrictive that just 3 percent of physicians qualified as “high performing” under its terms, so its impact has proven quite limited.
There are other options worth thinking about that are highly feasible and don’t require revisiting big philosophical questions about the US health care system. For example, plain-language rules in health insurance communication could help prevent patients from falling through the cracks due to complex and technical explanations of denials and appeal processes. The average American adult reads at around the 8th grade level, but most health insurance materials are written in at least the 10th grade level. Lower-income and lower-educational attainment patients and non-native English speakers are especially vulnerable in this system. This would also be relatively simple to administer and enforce. The Washington State Office of the Insurance Commissioner is a great model of guiding patients through appeal processes—from an accessible YouTube video to template appeal letters for different types of denials. Of course, this doesn’t address the propensity to deny in the first place, but it can mitigate the ensuing patient burden.
It would also be relatively feasible for states to limit prior authorization’s application to only domains of health care where there are at least relatively recent evidence bases of abuse or overprescribing. All too often, prior authorization is applied to areas of medicine where this overuse is not a documented concern. Lower lumbar spine MRIs are a commonly cited example of overprescribing, such that health insurers will often require a few weeks of physical therapy before being able to proceed with the scheduling of the MRI. That might not necessarily be an inappropriate use of prior authorization, whereas applying this process to a drug like PReP is far less logical, since it is life-saving and there is no evidence of abuse. States could, at the least, require insurers to justify the use of prior authorization for these types of procedures with data and evidence.
At the federal level, the House of Representatives approved by a voice vote the Improving Seniors’ Timely Access to Care Act in 2022, but despite bipartisan support, the legislation died in the Senate. This bill was centrally aimed at streamlining existing prior authorization requirements. It would require Medicare Advantage plans to deliver timelier decisions through electronic processes. This wouldn’t increase the odds of approval, but it would mitigate delays before either initiating appeal or moving on to a plan B.
In the background of all of these state efforts is the reality that state reforms cannot touch the majority of employer-sponsored health insurance plans. This quirk, which deviates from the federalism embedded into so many other areas of health policymaking and beyond, is due to the constraints of the Employee Retirement Income Security Act (ERISA). ERISA preempts state laws that “relate to” self-insured health plans, which cover most workers in employer-sponsored insurance. Because of the limits of what states can do to move the needle on equitable coverage, comprehensive health insurance reform really needs to happen at the federal level, which presents obvious challenges in the current political environment.
Because of the limits of what states can do to move the needle on equitable coverage, comprehensive health insurance reform really needs to happen at the federal level.
Stephen: Cost control/overutilization is a fundamental problem, even if the way the US “solves” for it is particularly awful. I can think of a variety of ways single-payer public health insurance helps: no insurance churn so no short-termism; deductibles, copays, and coverage are subject to a democratic process; and the government has monopsony power to negotiate down provider rates. And yet the fee-for-service conundrum and responses to it still exist in other countries with models closer to single-payer.
Are there any models or policies from the international context that you find promising, even if not politically feasible in the US right now? I’m thinking of things like New Zealand’s no-fault compensation system for medical injury, which means doctors don’t have to run tests simply to avoid lawsuits, or Pay-for-Performance/Value-Based Care models that could base payment on health-care outcomes and not just volume of services.
Miranda: My work is very US-centric, but I’ve grown increasingly interested in Switzerland.Even though traditional Medicare is immensely efficient, spending vastly less on overhead than do private insurers, Americans largely maintain the perception that the private sector is comparatively more efficient in policy delivery. That constrains our political choices (though this preference is becoming weaker over time, as more Americans are open to a government-run system). Given this underlying preference, are there ways that we can make private health insurance work? I think Switzerland shows that the answer is “yes, but.”
Even though traditional Medicare is immensely efficient, spending vastly less on overhead than do private insurers, Americans largely maintain the perception that the private sector is comparatively more efficient in policy delivery.
The Swiss health insurance system is actually more privatized than ours, and like our system, there’s a great deal of decentralization across localities. Where it diverges is its coupling of privatization with significant regulation as opposed to a broader embrace of free-market principles. The Swiss are legally required to be insured (though they have many options from which to choose), and on top of the standard but comprehensive insurance package, people can purchase supplemental private insurance to fill in any gaps or gain access to better hospital accommodations (e.g., a private room) or to see additional health-care providers. Consequently, nearly everyone in Switzerland is insured. In contrast with the relatively consolidated insurance market we have—with UnitedHealthcare, Cigna, CVS Health/Aetna, Elevance, Centene, Humana, and Kaiser Permanente dominating the markets, especially in certain regions—the Swiss have 56 insurers from which to choose. But the Swiss government exerts considerable regulatory oversight over both quality and prices.
So, you’ve got nearly universal coverage, market competition, regulation of pricing so as to mitigate exploitative charges to patients and the system writ large, and privatization. But all of these elements are in combination with enough regulation that you’d be unlikely to run into the insurance barriers that are such a dominant American experience and that make up the focus of my book.
The challenge, of course, is that to get this better coverage (which unsurprisingly produces better health outcomes), the Swiss both accept a higher tax rate than US politics tends to find palatable, and they accept the insurance mandate (whereas there was public consternation, driven by conservative political leaders, over the ACA’s individual mandate). To be sure, Americans’ attitudes could shift: We’ve certainly seen significant growth in support for the ACA, and the share of Americans who see it as the federal government’s responsibility to ensure health-care access has increased significantly over recent years. To the extent that these trends continue, that could facilitate a broader menu of health reform options.
But there are also some questions about scalability given that Switzerland has roughly the same population as New Jersey, is quite homogeneous, and invests more broadly into addressing social determinants of health. All too often in the US, we ignore those social determinants, which are truly in the driver’s seat of our health, while pouring money at health-care delivery. This leaves us with high health spending but a suboptimal return on investment. Switzerland can serve as some inspiration to right-size US reliance on private industry, though the extension may be difficult amid political preference for lower tax rates and deregulation.
Stephen: Is there anything else we haven’t discussed that you’d like to highlight?
Miranda:One elephant in the room amid discussions of health insurance barriers—their proliferation and their persistence—is why health insurers have been able to remain so largely unaccountable. At least part of this answer comes back to ERISA. To begin with, it preempts states’ efforts at comprehensive coverage reforms. This means that when political conditions aren’t well-suited to federal reforms, while we can often turn to the states to advance progress where they can, ERISA prevents comprehensive prior authorization reforms or the broader reduction of administrative burden in insurance. Further, it denies meaningful legal recourse to patients enrolled in self-insured health plans, which is about two-thirds of covered workers. Under ERISA, denied patients cannot obtain monetary damages (e.g., punitive damages, or damages for pain and suffering) and attorney’s fee recovery is left to the discretion of the judge. All that patients are entitled to receive is the benefit owed, which may be cold comfort to someone whose condition has worsened. And needless to say, less affluent patients will be risk-averse in taking legal action with this vulnerability to being left to cover their own legal costs.
The lack of meaningful remedies is where it becomes really clear that health care was an afterthought in ERISA, which was motivated by pension concerns. If your employer tries to screw you out of your pension, you can sue and get your pension back, but health conditions can change and make this enforcement apparatus ill-suited. Further, lawyers will likely be reluctant to take on cases that lack a monetary value. And if insurers know that patients are especially unlikely to sue insurers under these conditions, effective control over these entities can be harder to come by because wrongful denials are virtually costless. So, ERISA’s denial of meaningful remedies for wrongful coverage denials can not only be harmful to the patients when such denials arise, but insurers may have less incentive to exercise caution when deciding whether to cover costly care because they won’t face a meaningful penalty. In the worst case scenario for them, they eventually cover the treatment if the patient challenges the denial, which they rarely do. This design can thus increase the probability that insurance barriers arise in the first place. Congress tried to fix this problem in the late 1990s with the Patients’ Bill of Rights, but it didn’t come close to enactment. That bill is a critical issue for legislators to revisit. I’m currently writing another book that looks squarely at what accounts for the entrenchment of this feature of our health insurance system and the ways it disrupts equitable access to health care.
“There are more ways people can be denied by their health insurer than they realize.”
It’s not news to any of us that the US health insurance system needs massive change. The sheer scale of administrative and financial burden on patients and providers is untenable. I spoke with Miranda Yaver about her research on one underdiscussed aspect of the insurance maze: coverage denials.
Miranda is a health policy professor at the University of Pittsburgh and was the Roosevelt Institute’s 2025 author-in-residence. Her book Coverage Denied is out today, April 23, from Cambridge University Press.
Health insurance coverage denials and how they affect patients
Stephen Nuñez: In my own recent research on health-care policy, I detailed the consequences of our broken system for patients: medical debt, bankruptcy, and delayed or forgone treatments that often lead to worse health outcomes down the road. I focused on some of the better-known aspects of American health care, like underinsurance through high premiums, high deductibles, co-pays, and gaps in coverage (such as being between jobs).
In your new book, you focus on another aspect of the health-care system: denial of coverage among people who think they are insured against injury and illness. Could you explain the different ways this plays out?
Miranda Yaver: When we talk about problems like underinsurance in America, we’re typically referring to high out-of-pocket medical costs within the plan terms (such as high deductibles or high cost sharing). What I work to do in Coverage Denied is show that there’s this additional, less-discussed dimension of underinsurance: inadequate protection by health benefits in which one is enrolled, not due to plan terms, but rather due to insurer decision-making about what is actually medically necessary. Strikingly, there are more ways people can be denied by their health insurer than they realize.
Prior authorization, or required health insurer preapproval for prescribed care (typically costlier care, though it has certainly extended to lower and even low-cost care in recent years), is the realm of denials with which Americans are likely the most familiar. This is when your health-care provider wants you to get a CT scan, but you can’t proceed with scheduling until it gets cleared by your health insurer—and it might get denied. When people are denied prior authorization for health-care services, they face delays or denials of medical tests or treatments, potentially risking worsening health, unless they can afford to pay out of pocket (but health care in the United States is notably expensive, so that is rarely an option).
There are appeal processes in place that a patient denied prior authorization and their physician can pursue, though it can take time to submit additional information and receive a redetermination, and physicians might only be given hours to respond to a request to avoid a patient being denied again. This might mean that the patient cannot proceed with scheduling a diagnostic test. In the case of, say, a prescription medication, the patient may go unmedicated—potentially leading to worsening of symptoms —or be on a second-choice regimen to avoid an entire gap in care, pending the insurer processes that will take an unknown period of time to resolve. And if the patient’s conditions worsen, they may eventually require higher-level (and consequently, more expensive) medical care.
The irony here is that prior authorization is partly a measure aimed at cost containment, but if denials are ultimately delays that necessitate more pronounced medical intervention (whether receipt of medication in the emergency department, or even getting admitted), then this practice can undercut insurers’ underlying profit objectives.
People can also receive concurrent denials, which occur when the insurer decides during the course of a medical treatment that it will decline coverage for further care. The result of this mid-treatment decision can be treatment disruption, if not altogether discontinuation, that can undercut optimal health outcomes for the patient.
Retrospective denials occur when the insurer denies payment for health care that was already provided to the patient. While this does not leave the patient vulnerable to declining health with respect to that condition, it does raise the prospect that they will have to take on medical debt and potentially forgo other care so as to avoid risking accruing additional medical expenses. Additionally, though infrequently, one may be vulnerable to a retroactive denial, which occurs when an insurer retracts payment for a service that they already approved, leaving the patient themselves responsible for the payment (e.g., because the insurer determined that they should not have approved it previously). This can also render the patient vulnerable to assuming new medical debt that can be financially destabilizing and foregoing further health-care expenses. While this may be an appropriate error correction on the part of the health insurer, it can drive significant uncertainty and destabilization for the patient, who might not have continued to pursue the care if they had better information at the outset.
These types of claim denials (i.e., denials post-treatment) operate quite differently from prior authorization denials. The good news is that they shouldn’t result in a patient’s worsening condition per se (though anxiety about a denial of coverage for test A may lead to reluctance to pursue test B). The bad news is that this can contribute to the patient’s financial destabilization, potentially leading to medical debt that hurts their credit and thus broader economic opportunity. And of course, we know that medical debt is unevenly distributed across racial and socioeconomic groups, and health insurance barriers constitute another driver of those inequities.
Given that patients are often making these decisions with informational disadvantages—we don’t have a good sense of what care is in fact medically necessary, let alone the criteria with which our insurers are evaluating this—this multitude of ways that patients can be left both medically and financially vulnerable lays bare just why accessing health care in the US can be so anxiety-provoking (not to mention inequitable). And while analyses have shown that some providers do prescribe medical care that is of low or questionable value (in turn, running up quite a tab), all too often, the burden falls on patients, who get caught in between their prescribers and their insurers.
Stephen: What remedies are there for patients when denials happen, and do people even know about them or how to obtain them?
Miranda: As I mentioned, there are appeal processes in place, which insurers are legally required to provide patients with information about when they are issuing a notice of a denial. Some insurers are especially transparent about their process—UnitedHealthcare, for example, publishes online its detailed description of the three-layered standard appeal process and three-layered expedited appeal process. But there are a few things that can and often do get in the way of patients understanding and acting on this right, so that fewer than 1 percent of denied marketplace claims and less than 12 percent of Medicare Advantage (the privatized version of Medicare) prior authorization denials are appealed.
For starters, appeal explanations are already complicated processes that are often written in a way that is difficult for the average reader to understand. That means many people don’t even know what their rights even are. Additionally, people may underestimate the value of appealing. “I’m just one person going about their day. How could I possibly stand a chance going up against a health insurance giant?” And in fact, when I asked 1,340 people to guess how often health insurance appeals are won, most survey respondents thought patients win less than 20 percent of the time. In truth, it’s closer to a coin flip, with various estimates lying in the 40–60 percent range, and 52 percent of my survey respondents winning their appeals if they appealed. But if you think that this endeavor of appealing is likely to be fruitless, it makes sense that one wouldn’t exert the time and energy—the burden—of appealing.
I asked all of my survey respondents who were denied by their insurer but did not appeal why they chose not to do so. The two most common reasons were that (a) they didn’t realize they could appeal (often because the information was in fine print or not conveyed in plain language, or they saw the denial and got so discouraged that they didn’t read further) and (b) they didn’t think they stood a chance at winning (though many said that if they had known it was a coin flip, they’d have been more likely to appeal their own denial). Respondents also cited confusion about how to navigate the red tape of this insurance process. So, on the one hand, there’s a lot of evidence that coverage denials are not only destabilizing to health and finances, but that administrative burden gets in the way of patients pursuing appeals to reverse these adverse decisions. On the other hand, my findings point to the possibility of some simple information interventions to improve patient knowledge and, in turn, improve access to health benefits, even if we can’t tackle (yet) the complexity of the appeal processes themselves.
But the underlying reality is that insurers expect that patients are unlikely to go through the appeal process, which is difficult enough on a good day (and we’re rarely having our best day when we need to appeal to insurers). In fact, one person I interviewed, who reviews claims for a major health insurer, said they were told that denying is perfectly fine because there is an appeal process—even though they have the data to confirm that most patients don’t go through with them. This is why I characterize these processes not as rationing care through denial, but rather rationing by inconvenience, or accumulations of inconveniences.
Stephen: This sort of thing seems even crueler than high premiums and deductibles, where at least you know what you’re (not) getting. The uncertainty and arbitrary and almost Kafkaesque conditions experienced by patients who suddenly find themselves without the safety net they thought they had purchased is really striking.
You did a lot of interviews for this book. Are there any cases that stand out to you, that really illustrate the absurdity of it all?
Miranda: It is absolutely the case that this uncertainty and apparent arbitrariness—the “song and dance”—is overwhelming and heart-wrenching for patients (as well as for their providers) in a way that goes beyond the broader but more predictable frustrations about care being unattainable due to, for example, a high-deductible health plan. One physician interviewee told me about his experience with prior authorization burdens:
“It feels like there are people sitting around a room conspiring to figure out how to delay care further. And every day that they can delay your care is money kept in their pocket longer.”
One patient story that stuck out was surely an administrative error, but nevertheless burdensome for both patient and physician to correct. This patient was getting a wrist MRI with contrast: First, the patient had radioactive dye injected, and then the scan was to be performed. Her insurer approved the radioactive injection but not the scan that made that exposure necessary. Now, at face value, that sounds silly—and it is. But what it took to correct it was a recognition that this was absurd (when a lot of patients don’t read itemized medical bills, let alone understand them), and a degree of health insurance literacy and administrative capital that enabled her to successfully navigate the complexity of the health insurance appeal process.
But there were some really heart-wrenching stories. One was from a low-income woman in the South who had taken time away from a years-long nursing career due to medical complications following the birth of her daughter. Amid prolonged severe lower abdominal pain and vaginal bleeding, she was ordered a CT scan and spent months navigating insurance complexity to get prior authorization, to no avail. When the insurer asked for additional documentation of medical necessity, she brought to bear all of her skills as a nurse, using not only technical medical terminology to document her symptoms but indicating numeric pain ratings based on exacerbating factors, ameliorating factors, and the like—things that the average individual can’t do, because most people have limited medical knowledge. “I’m a nurse. I know how to document stuff. I’ve been doing it for 15 years,” she recounted. But it was to no avail that she described her condition as clinically and as elaborately as possible when seeking insurer approval. “I got specific, they denied it, and they picked a different reason.”
Then, the hospital erroneously said that the prior authorization was approved, but this patient ended up stuck with such a big bill that not only did she have to put off necessary home repairs amid a failing roof, but she even contemplated divorcing her husband and the father of her daughter in order to have an income that would qualify for Medicaid. This level of financial and family devastation wasn’t anomalous.The average American can’t accommodate an emergency $1,000 expense without going into debt, and as most people can attest to, it’s not hard to accrue a $1,000 medical expense.
And alongside all of this was a real loss of trust in the system and feeling of inadequacy amid the navigation of red tape. One diabetic lawyer said of his battle to get a continuous glucose monitor,
“Is there something wrong with me? Do I not deserve this? Do I think my need is more important than it really is? The process makes you feel so small.”
Diabetes treatment was an area in which coverage barriers were very common. After one interviewee battled her insurer to get on a more sustainable insulin regimen, she said,
“It colored the way I interacted with insurance for the rest of my life.”
Relatedly, it was striking to see the prevalence of prior authorization requirements in corners of health-care delivery where there is not evidence of overutilization and abuse, the mitigation of which is ostensibly a central goal underlying the administration of prior authorization. PrEP is one such medication, which is critical in preventing HIV transmission and thus an important aspect of LGBTQ health. This isn’t a medication that people just take “for fun,” nor is it a medication that is abused or overprescribed—but there can be prior authorization attached to it nevertheless. Another example is insulin, which is literally lifesaving for millions of Americans, but can still have onerous prior authorization and formulary restrictions attached to it. As I spoke with these patients who felt like they were constantly playing the role of Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill, it is little wonder why they lost trust in, and felt betrayed by, the insurers to whom they had been paying monthly premiums for years.
How we got here: Why US health insurance is the way it is
Stephen:It seems that there’s a fundamental issue in health care around constraining costs and preventing overtreatment in the form of unnecessary/low-value/wasteful care. Doctors want to be thorough (and don’t want to be sued for malpractice), patients don’t know how to distinguish between necessary and unnecessary care, and insurers don’t want to pay, for example, to run an endless battery of useless tests. But while this might be a fundamental problem in health care, the ways in which it plays out in the United States are unique and tied to our for-profit insurance system.
Can you describe some of the features of our system that have contributed to “managed care” (plans that cut costs via pre-authorizations, drug tiers, step therapy, etc.)?
Miranda: During the New Deal, there was some hope that amid this expansion of national power to lift the US out of the Great Depression, there might be sufficient support to carry national health insurance across the finish line. But even Franklin D. Roosevelt’s immense popularity wasn’t enough to get this done, and it became clear pretty quickly that trying to tie health insurance to Social Security was going to compromise both, and Social Security was an absolute must-have. Harry Truman then spent his presidency fighting tirelessly, albeit unsuccessfully, for national health insurance, but faced immense opposition campaigns from organizations like the American Medical Association (AMA), which used the slogan “The Voluntary Way is the American Way” in an effort to curb movement toward a compulsory insurance program that they likened to “socialized medicine.” In the background of all of this, employer-sponsored insurance had just gained prominence during World War II and further advanced through the labor movement: The Stabilization Act of 1942 precluded raising wages to attract much-needed workers, so health insurance became the perk of choice.
Eisenhower didn’t unravel the New Deal, but he did favor privatization over national insurance. When the 1960s rolled around, the previous ambitions of national health insurance were scaled down to prioritize targeting two vulnerable populations, the indigent (who would get Medicaid) and the elderly (who would get Medicare). Amendments to the Social Security Act in 1965 ultimately secured this new coverage. And in fact, LBJ signed these into law at the Harry S. Truman Presidential Library in Independence, Missouri, as a nod to his long-fought efforts toward this expansion.
But of course, these programs cost money, in part thanks to the fee-for-service arrangements according to which they were designed, such that there was little oversight over billing and the physicians could earn more by ordering more tests and treatments. So, it’s around this time that we see the introduction of some very narrowly circumscribed utilization management, such as certifying hospital lengths of stay. Of course, having a physician tell an insurer, “Yes, this patient does still need to be in the hospital to treat X” is a far cry from its current sweep. But the rising health-care costs also fueled the enactment of the Health Maintenance Organization (HMO) Act of 1973, which encouraged the development of HMOs, which are private insurance plans. What would later follow was the more flexible preferred provider organizations (PPOs). Ironically, with this latter, more flexible mechanism of health insurance delivery came the loss of a key cost-control mechanism, giving rise to the set of concerns that led to the proliferation of prior authorization.
The Balanced Budget Act of 1997 further cemented the United States’ reliance on privatization, bringing Medicare Advantage onto the scene and escalating the privatization of Medicaid. It’s in this moment that we see at a large scale the privatization of traditionally public health insurance programs whose enrollees would now come to experience managed care plans’ cost-containment tools like prior authorization. And as health-care innovation—from new drugs to new technologies—flourished in the US, both quality and cost increased, spreading prior authorization into new corners of health-care delivery. Today, if you’re being prescribed a higher-cost drug, high-tech imaging, a surgery, a major procedure, and even some less costly drugs, you can bet on prior authorization or some form of step therapy (in which a patient must try lower-cost drugs before “stepping up” to what was initially prescribed).
At the end of the day, it’s a tough issue of politics, economics, medicine, and law all wrapped up in one. We don’t have unlimited amounts of money to spend on health care without making very hard (and likely politically unpalatable) choices in other areas of policy delivery, so we need to find ways to contain costs, hopefully without compromising quality of care. We often misperceive more care as equating to better care (sometimes it is, but it certainly isn’t a guarantee), which then places demands on physicians who need to be mindful of patient satisfaction ratings as well as malpractice liability. That can in turn drive some degree of defensive medicine (or ordering unnecessary tests and procedures) that comes with a price tag.
And in the background of all of this is the reality that health insurers don’t have a ton of incentive to make up-front investments in our health—even those that have a good return on investment—because people change health insurers so frequently. This means that while it may seem like poor financial planning for Cigna to deny a patient Drug A, by the time a costly complication manifests for the patient, they may no longer be on Cigna, but rather UnitedHealthcare, or they may have aged onto Medicare. So, in addition to concerns about privatization, cost containment (as well as profit maximization given the need to report quarterly growth), and overutilization (which can undercut those cost-containment objectives), there’s also some passing of the buck that may not yield great patient outcomes and may even drive up costs in the system writ large, but not for the insurer that issued the initial denial.
So, then we get to the question of whether there are better alternatives to contain costs. One way to make up the deficit is that insurers could raise premiums, but we know that’s untenable for most people and would drive problems of adverse selection. Negotiating down the cost of health-care delivery by providers would certainly be a nonstarter with the AMA as well as with the broader physician community, especially given the high cost of medical training and recent politics around loan forgiveness. Improving drug price negotiation with the pharmaceutical industry is important, and we’ve moved in that direction narrowly, but that still won’t touch a lot of the problems here.
Another very underdiscussed aspect of this problem is the reality that while overutilization is a commonly cited concern driving the implementation of prior authorization, physician burdens associated with prior authorization and the appeals it can necessitate can actually drive issues of underprescribing to avoid these challenges.
Stephen: A big theme of the book is path dependence, the idea that each legal or regulatory decision sets us down a path and makes it harder to reach other outcomes. For example, I was struck by the fact that the backlash against narrow networks implemented by HMO plans probably made pre-authorization more common.
Maybe a bigger surprise was the ways that the Affordable Care Act (ACA) may have inadvertently contributed to the current situation. Could you explain more?
Miranda: I’ll preface this by saying that I’m a huge fan of the ACA, but a few aspects of it are relevant to the story I’m telling here. First, it directly built on the private health insurance framework (the setting in which delays and denials of coverage are the most common) and left prior authorization largely undisturbed, with the exemption of emergency department care and in-network OB-GYN care. So, overall, there’s increased patient participation in private health insurance plans, which come with more prior authorization except in some narrowly circumscribed areas. But there’s also the possibility that when Congress told these private health insurers to cover all these people they’d done a very good job of finding ways to avoid covering—those with what had been declinable preexisting medical conditions (around 27 percent of non-elderly US adults, according to a 2019 KFF estimate)—the insurers look for other ways to curb costs. They can’t deny patients anymore, so it’s possible that denial of payment for prescribed care became the attractive alternative.
Stephen: When doing research on medical debt, I found that the debt problem was a lot worse for people on employer-sponsored insurance plans or ACA marketplace plans than for folks on Medicaid and Medicare (though a substantial portion of Medicare recipients are still carrying debt from their time uninsured and underinsured prior to aging into Medicare.)
You quote health-care expert Jacob Hacker in the book, who said, “Medicare should be the model for health security.” But a large part of the book details how both Medicaid and Medicare are also increasingly becoming managed-care systems. Can you explain what is happening and why?
Miranda: The US health insurance system is definitely made far more complex through its fragmentation, as well as its entwining of public and private programs, which can culminate in contradictory popular sentiment like “keep your government hands off my Medicare” and what Suzanne Mettler has characterized as the “submerged state.” And of course, Medicare is not the only government insurance program that has become heavily privatized. Not only are about 54 percent of seniors in Medicare Advantage, but about three-quarters of Medicaid is privatized.
Privatization of these two critical health insurance programs, which combine to cover roughly 4 in 10 Americans, is problematic for many reasons, but in the context of this book, it means adding a lot of prior authorization—and the delays and denials that come with it—for a population that has generally lower health-insurance literacy and is consequently less well-equipped to navigate the burdensome repercussions of these processes. Unlike Medicare Advantage, where 99 percent of enrollees have prior authorization, traditional Medicare has historically used prior authorization sparingly and denies care infrequently, though Centers for Medicare and Medicaid administrator Mehmet Oz’s introduction of the WISeR model that experts agree may lead to more denials. Medicare has been a game changer in enabling seniors to have quality coverage at a time in their lives when they generally have greater health needs but limited disposable income—and it provides this coverage with low administrative spending relative to private insurance and outside the confines of means-testing that can be stigmatizing and thus dampen policy take-up. But its privatization over the last three decades has produced outcomes that look a lot more like the broader private health insurance landscape (whether employer-sponsored insurance or the ACA marketplace) in terms of prior authorization, delays and denials of coverage, and burdensome and inequitable processes to appeal those adverse decisions.
On the managed Medicaid side, we also see frequent reliance on prior authorization and high incidence of delays and denials. Not only is this a population that has generally low health insurance literacy (raising the burdens of appealing barriers to coverage), but it is also generally less healthy (raising the stakes of these barriers to coverage). Moreover, due to their low income, they’re especially unlikely to be able to front the cost of medical treatment in order to avoid a gap in care pending an insurance appeal.
Blaming hospitals isn’t wrong. But it’s incomplete—and it’s exactly the story insurers want told.
Zack Cooper argued this week in The New York Times that Americans may be blaming the wrong culprit for rising premiums. In his view, the bigger driver is hospital market power—fueled by years of consolidation that policymakers have done little to stop. On that point, he’s on solid ground saying that hospital prices have climbed steadily, and oversight has lagged.
Where the argument falls short is in how it portrays insurers. It suggests they are largely on the defensive—unable to push back on powerful hospital systems and left to rely on tools like prior authorization and claim denials as a workaround. In that telling, insurers come across less as drivers of the problem and more as constrained players navigating a difficult market.
That’s not consistent with what I saw working inside the industry, or with how the business is structured to operate.
Cooper’s academic work on hospital consolidation is serious and worth engaging with. But the argument he made in the Times—whether intended or not—tracks closely with a line the insurance industry has advanced for years. It’s a familiar frame, and one I recognize because I helped design it.
The industry’s oldest trick
When I was head of corporate communications at Cigna, one of my core job responsibilities was to ensure that the public and policymakers understood what we called the “true drivers” of medical inflation. Those drivers were never us. They were hospitals charging too much, drug companies gouging patients, and — when we needed a villain closer to home — ordinary Americans overusing the health care system. The finger-pointing was deliberate, coordinated, and effective. As any magician will tell you, misdirection is the oldest trick in the book.
AHIP, the industry’s trade and lobbying group, is running that same playbook today with the full force of the industry behind it. In recent months it has blanketed Washington with the message that “hospital costs account for more than 40 cents of every premium dollar” and that hospitals should “stop looking around for someone else to blame.” This is not an inaccurate claim. It is an incomplete one, deployed with the precision of a public relations campaign rather than the rigor of a policy argument. The fact that Cooper’s op-ed reinforces that message — even from an independent and credentialed source — is a gift to an industry that has been under unprecedented scrutiny since the murder of a UnitedHealthcare CEO in late 2024.
I am not suggesting Cooper wrote his piece on AHIP’s behalf. I am suggesting that a structurally incomplete argument, published in arguably the country’s most influential newspaper at this precise moment, serves the insurance industry’s interests whether or not that was anyone’s intention.
Who started the consolidation arms race?
Cooper’s framing also elides a crucial piece of history. Hospital consolidation did not happen in a vacuum. Hospitals began merging in significant part as a defensive response to the growing bargaining power of large insurers. Providers seeking to consolidate often cited a desire to acquire bargaining leverage with market-dominant payers, arguing that their own consolidation could counter the consolidation of increasingly powerful insurers.
Insurer consolidation begat hospital consolidation, which begat higher prices, which begat higher premiums. It is an arms race in which the only losers are patients and employers.
In the third episode of the HEALTH CARE un-covered Show, we take a deep dive into prior authorization’s toll — from doctors to federal policy — featuring Dr. Wendy Dean, Dr. Seth Glickman and Rep. Suzan DelBene (D-WA) on CMS’s new AI-driven WISeR model.
Cooper is right that hospital market power is now the dominant force driving costs. But the insurers that consolidated first — and that benefited by squeezing providers in the short run — helped create the conditions for the hospital consolidation wave that followed. Neither side’s hands are clean. The arms race, which dates back to the rapid horizontal consolidation that occurred in the insurance industry in the 1990s and early 2000s, is what patients are now paying for.
Now to the incentive problem Cooper’s framing obscures. In commercial insurance — particularly the self-funded arrangements that now cover most large employers — the insurer often earns fees tied to the total size of claims processed. Higher hospital prices mean larger claims. Larger claims can mean higher revenue for the insurer administering the plan. This is not a conspiracy. It is arithmetic. The incentive to hold the line on hospital prices is weaker than Cooper suggests because in many arrangements, higher costs flow through to the insurer’s bottom line.
The Affordable Care Act’s medical loss ratio rules were supposed to fix this by requiring insurers to spend 80% to 85% of premiums on care. What those rules actually do, in a rising-cost environment, is allow absolute profits to grow even as the percentage stays fixed. If the pie gets bigger, the insurer’s slice gets bigger too — even at the same ratio.
The network access trap
In markets where a single hospital system controls the majority of beds, the insurer faces a problem that has nothing to do with negotiating skill. It cannot exclude that hospital from its network and still have a product to sell. Employers and individuals will not buy a plan that locks them out of the dominant regional provider. The hospital knows this. The insurer knows this. What gets called “negotiation” in these markets is often closer to ratification.
The insurer’s response to this trap — when it cannot win at the hospital price table — is not to fight harder. It is to redirect. Costs that cannot be controlled at the source get shifted somewhere more manageable: onto patients, through higher deductibles and narrower benefits; onto providers, through prior authorization burdens and claims denials; onto employers, through premium increases framed as the inevitable result of “medical trend.”
This is the point Cooper comes closest to and doesn’t quite reach. He writes that insurers “are incentivized to lower health spending, but in many markets don’t have the ability to put meaningful pressure on hospital prices.” That’s true. What is also true is that they put pressure on everything else, which all too often has the effect of reducing access to medically necessary care.
Prior authorization, step therapy, utilization management — these are not crude approximations of cost control. They are the rational corporate adaptation to a problem the insurer has decided not to solve at its source. They extract value from the system by making care harder to access rather than cheaper to provide. And they do so in a way that is largely invisible to the public as a cost-shifting mechanism, because each individual denial looks like a clinical decision rather than a financial one.
Cigna’s earnings tell a story Wall Street loves but its retreat from the ACA Marketplace could accelerate a system already tipping toward collapse.
Cigna reported its first-quarter 2026 results last Thursday. Like most of the other big health insurance conglomerates that have reported so far, it did a better job of meeting Wall Street’s profit expectations in the first three months of the year than it did in all of 2025.
Total revenues rose 5% to $68.5 billion. Adjusted income from operations came in at $2.1 billion, or $7.79 per share — up 12% from a year ago, though missing analyst estimates by five cents. The company raised its full-year outlook for adjusted income from operations to at least $30.35 per share. David Cordani, in what he called a “somewhat bittersweet” moment as his final quarterly earnings call as CEO, described the results as reflecting “disciplined execution, deliberate portfolio shaping and a continued focus on targeted innovation.”
That jargon didn’t impress investors. Cigna’s stock price fell $3.19 on Thursday but was up 2.76% for the week, closing Friday at $282.90.
None of that is surprising. Cigna is a well-run company by the metrics Wall Street uses to measure well-run companies. What’s worth examining is what the numbers actually reveal about how the first quarter results were achieved and – equally if not more important – what Cigna announced alongside it.
Another big exit
The biggest news from Thursday’s release and call with analysts wasn’t about earnings. Cigna will stop offering plans on the Affordable Care Act marketplaces after the 2026 plan year. The exit will affect 369,000 members across 11 states, with coverage ending January 1, 2027.
Brian Evanko, who will succeed Cordani as CEO on July 1, framed the decision as a strategic choice to exit a market where Cigna is unlikely to achieve scale. “This is small business for us today, and it’s been shrinking in recent years,” he said.
He’s right about the numbers. What he didn’t say is why it’s shrinking — and what Cigna’s exit will do to the people left behind.
Cigna is by no means the first big insurer to announce an exit from the ACA Marketplace.Aetna pulled out at the end of 2025, forcing approximately 1 million members across 17 states to find new coverage for 2026. But even that headline understates the breadth of the retreat. At the end of 2025, when Congress chose not to renew some of the tax credits that had made ACA coverage affordable for millions of Americans, a wave of smaller insurers also left:Molina Healthcare announced significant changes to its service area; HAP CareSource exited Michigan; Chorus Community Health Plan withdrew; Mountain Health CO-OP left Wyoming; Primewell Health Services exited Arkansas and Mississippi; UM Health Plan and Michigan Care ended; and Celtic/WellCare left North Carolina. Blue Cross Blue Shield terminated PPO products in Arizona. And last month, Baylor Scott & White Health Plan announced it will no longer offer marketplace plans after the end of this year, affecting approximately 100,000 enrollees in Texas.
That means that before open enrollment for 2027 coverage even begins this fall, at least half a million people — Cigna’s 369,000 plus Baylor Scott & White’s 100,000, on top of the million who lost Aetna coverage last year — will either have to scramble to find comparable coverage (at a significantly higher price) or go uninsured.
And we may not yet know the full scope. Every spring and summer, health insurers file proposed premium rates with state regulators — filings that reveal what insurers are planning for the coming year. Those rate filings typically land in May and June. The Q2 earnings season follows in July and August. Each of those moments is an opportunity for another insurer to announce what Cigna announced Thursday. The exits we know about may be the beginning, not the end.
This is not a series of isolated corporate decisions. It is the beginning of a potential death spiral, and it is already in motion.
The mechanism is straightforward. ACA sign-ups for 2026 are already down by over 1 million people compared to the same period last year — the first decline since 2020. The main reason was the December 31, 2025 expiration of the enhanced premium tax credits that were enacted during the Biden administration. For subsidized enrollees who stayed in the same plan, average net premiums rose 114%. When premiums spike, the people who leave first are the healthy ones — younger, lower-utilization enrollees who do the math, decide the cost isn’t worth it and gamble that they’ll have another year of good health. The people who stay are the ones who have no choice: the chronically ill, the older, the people who know they will need care. The marketplace is already smaller and sicker, according to consultants and insurance executives, with more consumers choosing cheaper bronze plans that carry higher out-of-pocket costs.
A smaller, sicker pool means higher claims. Higher claims mean higher premiums. Higher premiums drive out even more healthy enrollees, which makes the pool sicker and more expensive still. And that is exactly what Evanko described when he noted that Cigna’s ACA enrollment had already dropped from 446,000 to 369,000 — a 17% decline in a single year.
The insurers aren’t abandoning a failed program. They are ensuring it fails — and then leaving before it does.
I wasn’t surprised to hear that Cigna is leaving the ACA Marketplace because it has never been a big player in the individual health insurance business. Around 90% of Cigna’s health plan enrollment is in its role as a third-party administrator (TPA) for large employers. The company also has sold all of its Medicare Advantage business.
What did surprise me was the company’s other big reveal: It has put its EviCore unit, which provides prior authorization and utilization management services to health plans (not just Cigna’s), up for sale. Evanko told analysts that the industry’s prior authorization standardization push (which I wrote about last Wednesday) could “open new doors for the EviCore business, which could potentially result in a partnership or a combination with complementary industry participants.”
EviCore is the prior authorization machinery — the infrastructure through which doctors’ requests for patient care get approved, delayed, or denied. Cigna is exploring selling it, or spinning it off, at precisely the moment that prior authorization is under the most intense public and regulatory scrutiny it has ever faced.
Think about what that means. Just days after the industry announced a voluntary reform campaign to standardize the prior authorization process, Cigna said it might sell the business unit that does the prior authorizing. That tells me that the company’s executives don’t think EviCore will be able to continue contributing to Cigna’s profits.
What the numbers say — and don’t
One of the most important numbers in any health insurer’s earnings report isn’t revenue. It’s the medical loss ratio — the percentage of premium dollars actually spent on patient care. The lower the MLR, the more the company keeps.
Cigna’s MLR for Q1 2026 was 79.8%, down from 82.2% a year ago. That 240-basis-point decline is the engine behind the strong earnings performance. For every dollar Cigna collected in premiums this quarter, it paid out roughly two cents less in medical claims than it did a year ago.
The company attributes the decline primarily to the 2025 sale of its Medicare Advantage business to Health Care Services Corporation — older, costlier populations leaving the risk pool.
What no analyst asked: Is the MLR decline connected to Cigna’s prior authorization practices? The company’s own Transparency Report, published in March, claims a 15% reduction in prior authorization volume. Did tighter scrutiny on the remaining high-cost requests contribute to lower medical costs and therefore a better MLR? We don’t know because Wall Street analysts chose not to ask.
Another thing analysts didn’t explore was litigation against its PBM, Express Scripts. Evernorth — the division that encompasses Express Scripts and that now accounts for 85% of Cigna’s revenue — generated $58.4 billion in adjusted revenues, driven by specialty drug volume and biosimilar adoption. What the earnings release doesn’t mention is that Express Scripts is currently the subject of federal RICO litigation alleging the company created a Swiss entity called Ascent Health Services to divert drug rebates away from plan sponsors and patients.
On Thursday’s call, analysts asked about Evernorth’s growth trajectory, capital deployment, the EviCore strategic review, and the CEO transition. No one asked what happens to the 369,000 people who will lose their Cigna coverage on January 1. No one asked whether the cascade of ACA exits constitutes a market failure requiring a policy response. No one asked what the prior authorization denial rate was for the quarter, or how many denials were later overturned on appeal.
Those questions have answers, but Wall Street analysts don’t ask because they assume most investors have little interest in such matters. And they are right.
New data shows middle-class Americans cutting essentials, dropping coverage, and delaying care — just as Pope Leo XIV calls health care a “moral imperative.”
Pope Leo XIV (who became pope a year ago this week) isn’t just the first American pontiff—he’s also, as a Chicago native and Villanova University alum, the first leader of the Roman Catholic Church to have experienced the U.S. health care system firsthand. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that this world spiritual leader born as Robert Prevost would use his lofty new platform to call for radical change.
“Health cannot be a luxury for the few,”Leo told a recent conference on health care inequality in Europe organized by both Catholic bishops and the World Health Organization, adding that good health care is essential for social peace.
“Universal health coverage is not merely a technical goal to be achieved; it is primarily a moral imperative for societies that wish to call themselves just,” the pope said. “health care must be accessible to the most vulnerable, then, not only because their dignity requires it but also to prevent injustice from becoming a cause of conflict.”
In less than a year on the job, the new pontiff has shown a lot of political savvy, and a knack for good timing. Leo’s endorsement of health care as a human right coincided with a couple of new, important U.S. surveys showing that both rising insurance premiums and high out-of-pocket medical bills have become the major driver of an affordability crisis that is hitting middle-class families hard.
To back this up, the leading health care non-profit KFF conducted a followup survey with more than 800 Americans who last year had been enrolled in Affordable Care Act (ACA) insurance in 2025. It found broadly that most have been struggling to pay medical bills since Congress failed late last to extend the federal subsidies that had made ACA coverage affordable for many in recent years.
In the third episode of the HEALTH CARE un-covered Show, we take a deep dive into prior authorization’s toll — from doctors to federal policy — featuring Dr. Wendy Dean, Dr. Seth Glickman and Rep. Suzan DelBene (D-WA) on CMS’s new AI-driven WISeR model.
Most of the respondents (80%) said they were paying more now for health care than in 2025, with just over half (51%) reporting they are now spending “a lot more.” For middle-class Americans, the critical need to stay healthy has meant cutting their budget for other essentials. KFF found that a majority (55%) were reducing spending on food or other household basics, but that jumped to 62% for people getting treatment for chronic disease.
Faced with drastically higher monthly premiums, KFF found, has forced these families to make difficult, consequential choices. Some 28% switched into a different ACA plan in an effort to hold down their monthly premiums – which means much higher deductibles and thus the risk of large out-of-pocket medical expenses. Even worse, some 9% told the KFF survey that they have dropped health insurance altogether, which means they are one accident or major illness away from a financial disaster.
A 34-year-old Texan who dropped his Obamacare coverage told the KFF pollsters that the sole reason was the cost. “The prices are simply too high,” he said. “$800 a month for the absolute cheapest plan for two people. Our income is $120k, so we don’t qualify for subsidies in Texas. I don’t think we could afford our mortgage if I had to pay for health insurance.”
Another respondent reported that his “Income exceeded the subsidy limit, forcing us to pay the full cost, so we switched down to a bronze from a gold plan. Even doing that our premiums are 3 times what they were in 2025, with lower plan features and a higher deductible.”
About 22% of the KFF respondents said they are still insured, but not through the ACA Marketplace. In some cases that is because they were able to switch to an employers’ health plan or because they were now eligible for Medicare and Medicaid. But others, KFF noted, switched into different types of high-deductible plans or a cost-sharing group – solutions that often lead to considerable out-of-pocket expenses.
One 56-year-old Texas man surveyed by KFF said that as a reaction to the higher insurance premiums he would “attempt to use health care as little as possible” – with the hope that by carefully consulting with his doctors and pharmacists he would avoid paying any out-of-pocket expenses that aren’t absolutely necessary.
To understand how private equity, or PE, may be reshaping the way physicians experience the practice of medicine and their relationships with hospitals, insurers, and patients, we interviewed six doctors who have worked for PE-backed practices and four advisers who guide physicians through the partnership process.
We wanted to know if an infusion of capital from private investors with plans for expanding or restructuring a practice makes it easier for physicians in private practice to maintain a sense of independence and even lessens burnout. Or instead, if these transactions convert once-independent doctors into employees with less agency than before.
The physicians we interviewed included two urologists who ran one of the largest PE-backed specialty practices in the United States before it sold to Cardinal Health; two orthopedic surgeons and one obstetrician/gynecologist (ob/gyn) whose practices were acquired; and an anesthesiologist who saw his own practice disrupted when two PE-backed staffing companies shook up the local market. All but one agreed to speak on the record about their experiences. The other asked to remain anonymous because his comments focused largely on former colleagues.
When Investors View Doctors as Partners, Satisfaction with Private Equity Deals Is Higher
For physicians, the value of private equity investment is very much in the eye of the beholder, and it’s largely contingent on whether physicians are treated by the investors as employees or as business partners. The PE deals that go awry — sometimes publicly, due to litigation or physician departures — often involve ventures where PE firms extract profit by changing productivity standards, staffing models, and hours of operations. When profits are achieved by expanding a practice’s services or its geographic reach, there’s more opportunity, if not incentive, for partnership.
Specialties in which changes in technology or treatment protocols are redefining the role of physicians can create growth opportunities for PE firms and the practices themselves. Urology provides an instructive example. Over the past three decades, as treatment modalities for prostate cancer have evolved, urologists have assumed a more sizeable role in cancer care. While it can be lucrative to provide radiation therapy, immunotherapy, and oral oncolytics or infusions in outpatient settings, or establish ancillary businesses such as pharmacies, these require upfront capital and management expertise. Practices with 10 or fewer urologists, once the norm in the U.S., may lack the resources to take advantage of these opportunities. They also may struggle to compete with nearby health systems that command higher payments from insurers and larger discounts from suppliers.
Add in the difficulty of recruiting younger urologists to replace retiring doctors and administrative burdens such as managing payer contracting and cybersecurity threats and PE begins to look more like a savior than a threat. Indeed, while nearly half of urologists were employed by hospitals or other institutions as of 2019, PE acquisitions of urology practices have become a dominant form of practice consolidation in recent years.
Upfront Payment Leads to Practice Changes and a Big Payday
Solaris Health, at one point the largest of at least six PE-backed urology practices in the United States, scaled quickly — from 130 physicians when it was launched in 2020 to almost 800 in August 2025. It did so by pitching itself as a national practice controlled by physicians but backed by Lee Equity, a firm with investments in many specialties. Those who signed on received stock and a lump-sum payment that, in keeping with the conventions of PE transactions, was a multiple of a practice’s future income that physicians were willing to forgo. Although the cash is an advance on future earnings, the payment is often taxed at a capital gains rate, enabling physicians to reduce their tax burden and begin investing.
“I always tell doctors if you’re tempted to buy a boat with the money, don’t. Take the cash and invest it,” says Gary Kirsh, MD, cofounder of Solaris Health. He served as the company’s CEO until Cardinal Health, a pharmaceutical and medical products supplier, paid $1.9 billion for the business in 2025.
In the lead-up to such sales, PE firms recoup their investment through what’s known as “the scrape” — taking a percentage of practice profits, typically between 20 percent and 30 percent. While this makes a sizeable dent in physicians’ take-home pay, many PE firms promise to restore income to previous levels by increasing practice revenues or reducing expenses. Known as “income repair,” it’s a process that can take a few years to play out.
Raj Patel, MD, a urologist from Homewood, Ill., who joined Solaris Health in 2021 and served on its corporate board, was initially skeptical of promises of revenue growth because he was already so entrepreneurial. He also valued his independence. “I would tell my partners, our group doesn’t need private equity,” Patel says.
Over time, however, Patel began to see that joining a large PE-backed practice, with more than 120 urologists in the Chicago area alone, might be a way to enhance access for patients and professional satisfaction for doctors. Instead of everyone performing the same procedures and sending advanced cases to large health systems, they could begin to subspecialize and refer patients to one another.
While the MSO took a share of profits, it also assumed an equal share of an individual practice’s expenses, including the cost of hiring advanced practice providers to handle low-acuity cases and manage calls from staff in local emergency departments — a pain point for Patel’s practice, as this support was expected by hospitals but not reimbursed. Solaris also hired navigators to support patients as they explored different options for treatment. And it had the financial resources to invest in a laboratory for genetic testing, a pharmacy, and the data analytics to determine why some practices had better clinical outcomes or financial performance than others. Although clinicians are expected to follow clinical pathways, Patel says those are determined by clinicians that advise the MSO. “Physicians really need to lead that,” he says.
After he joined, Patel was also able to begin enrolling his patients in clinical trials, another income stream. As revenues increased, Patel achieved income repair in just one year. While some might worry this may lead to higher health care costs, Kirsh believes the opposite is true — that consolidation of physician practices enables clinicians to steer patients to outpatient settings, which, he says, can be significantly cheaper than hospital-based care due to lower fixed costs and the avoidance of facility fees.
Our business model is not to acquire scale and hold insurance companies hostage on rates. We’re creating a national network that shares best practices, professional management, and ancillary services, and doing it in a way that streamlines care for patients.
Gary Kirsh, MDcofounder, Solaris Health
Cardinal Health says it hasn’t made changes to Solaris’s operations or pricing since the acquisition; whether that holds true remains to be seen. Its management services organization, The Specialty Alliance, formed in 2025, now has a stake in the practices of roughly 3,000 providers specializing in gastroenterology and urology. The company also has acquired practices affiliated with Integrated Oncology Network, which has 50-plus community-based oncology centers and more than 100 providers. Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D–Mass.) has raised concerns that the company is buying physician practices as a means of locking customers and physicians into restrictive contracts for drugs and other supplies, reducing competition among wholesalers, and driving up costs. She’s also concerned that practice acquisitions will reduce competition between hospitals and nonhospital providers and has called on the Federal Trade Commission to scrutinize pending sales.
Soon after the deal was announced, Kirsh retired as CEO, handing the reins to James Weber, MD, a gastroenterologist from Southlake, Texas, who became CEO of Specialty Care Alliance after Cardinal acquired a majority stake in GI Alliance in November 2024 for $2.8 billion. Weber says Cardinal’s investment enabled his group to get off the private equity “merry-go-round” and begin partnering with urologists and other specialists who aren’t solely dependent on hospitals for delivering care. Instead of buying a stake in the MSO only to sell it again, as a private equity investor might, Cardinal sees value in building a long-term relationship with physicians as this diversifies its customer base and opens up the possibility of selling higher-margin products and services, Weber says. Rather than forcing such supplies and services upon doctors, Cardinal competes with other vendors in an open-bidding process and profits when the MSO gets the best deal it can — even if it’s from a competitor, he says.
Where Growth Is Harder to Achieve, Tensions Are Magnified
Partnering with private equity firms may have less upside for specialists who have reduced practice expenses to the bare minimum; have maximized their income from ancillary services like imaging, physical therapy, and durable medical equipment; or are working at full tilt. In these instances, income repair may be impossible, especially if the firm tacks on new charges or takes away benefits.
Two orthopedic surgeons we spoke with, one in Pennsylvania and the other in Florida, said partnering with PE had cost them financially. Both had worked in what they described as well-respected practices that faced competition from large academic medical centers intent on expanding, in one case by buying up primary care practices that influenced local referrals patterns. As nonprofits, the systems had several advantages: a lower tax rate and access to the federal 340B Drug Pricing Program, which allows safety-net providers to purchase drugs at a discount and receive reimbursement from insurers at market rates.
Adrienne Towsen, MD, an orthopedic surgeon from West Chester, Pa., says that after her 75-physician practice was sold in 2022 to a management company backed by PE, promised changes to back-office functions never materialized, and the accounting grew more opaque. Then came cuts. Doctors were told they needed to start paying for their own cellphone plans, as well as life and disability insurance. Management fees also increased, and the ancillary income physicians once earned from physical therapy and MRIs — worth as much $100,000 a year to each doctor — was carved out of their compensation.
While she had received an upfront payment, she found it didn’t make up for the cuts in her take-home pay. Towsen says part of the problem was that the revenue target she and her colleagues needed to hit to bring fees down was set at an all-time high, the year of the sale.
Towsen says she started to feel like she was caught in a bad relationship. Problematic behavior was followed by unfulfilled promises from management to do better. She wanted to exit, but the contract required her to pay back the lump sum if she left before three years. Leaving also would trigger a noncompete clause, severing relationships with patients she’d built over two decades. She resigned the first day she could, giving up her shares in the company.
Equally painful was the disruption in her relationships with patients. “I had very frank discussions with patients and told them exactly why I was leaving. They were upset,” she says. Many reported experiencing similar problems with other specialists.
I kept hearing, ‘I’m losing all my good doctors.’ It makes you feel so guilty.
Adrienne Towsen, MDorthopedic surgeon
When the Math Doesn’t Add Up
R. James Toussaint, MD, an orthopedic surgeon in Florida who worked in investment banking before going to medical school, chose to join The Orthopaedic Institute in Gainesville because it had a reputation for high-quality care and was large enough for him to subspecialize in foot and ankle surgery. When PE firms came calling in 2017, he had a hard time persuading his partners that it would be the PE firm that benefited, not them. “I had structured deals like this myself and knew what the benefits and drawbacks were. I also knew once you sell your house, it’s nearly impossible to buy it back,” he says.
Once the sale went through, he says the firm added new layers of management overhead, including executives tasked with business development and marketing. “These aren’t positions generating revenue the way surgeons do. They’re essentially cost centers,” Toussaint says.
Since he had already maximized the hours he worked, as well as opportunities to earn income from ancillary services like MRIs, physical therapy, and durable medical equipment, there wasn’t a way to offset these expenses and other management fees by working longer hours. “There’s no eighth day in the week to work,” he says.
He says the lump-sum payment he’d received wasn’t sufficient to cover the loss of income. After a couple of years, he decided to resign and negotiated a settlement to release him from the noncompete clause. He then joined the academic medical center that was once viewed as a competitor, a move he wishes he made sooner. “Looking back, the whole transaction just made no sense. I should have just left immediately because there literally was no upside.”
Toussaint says in some cases patients are left in the dark when physicians leave. “It’s embarrassing for the group,” he says. “So they just say they left or they retired and the patients are left trying to figure out where their doctor is. It’s unfortunate.”
We reached out to the private equity–backed ventures that help run the two orthopedic surgery practices for comment. Both offered to connect us to physicians with a different perspective.
John Stevenson, MD, a neurosurgeon who’s been at The Orthopaedic Institute for three decades, agreed the early days of partnering with a private equity–backed firm had its ups and downs, in part because they were the first orthopedic practice to do so and it took time to develop and execute a growth strategy. But over the long run, he says he’s come out ahead because he’s been able to see more patients with the help of midlevel clinicians and gained access to better insurance contracts, lower-cost supplies, and other resources that help patients, including staff with pain management expertise.
Jason Sansone, MD, an orthopedic surgeon in Madison, Wis., found it helpful to partner with the private equity–backed venture Towsen did — Healthcare Outcomes Performance Company (HOPCo). He’d been employed by a multistate health system but found its bureaucracy and the inability to innovate stifling. “We wanted more autonomy and offered to assume financial risk in exchange for it,” he says, but the health system insisted on an employment model.
In 2023, he and 10 other doctors struck out on their own, betting they could negotiate contracts with payers that would reward them based on the value of services they provided rather than the volume. “Sometimes that means more conservative treatments and other times, it’s just doing surgery instead of requiring patients to go through physical therapy and steroid injections that you know aren’t going to help,” he says. Having fought for their independence, he and his partners were reluctant to give up equity in their practice, so they hired HOPCo to provide management services and built an ambulatory surgery center as a joint venture. Sansone says he’d only consider giving up equity in the practice itself to fund an expansion. “We view private equity as a source of capital for growth rather than a means of generating liquidity,” he says.
From Boutique to Big Box Store
The ob/gyn we spoke with, now working in North Carolina, joined a large obstetrics practice just three months before its partners voted to sell it to a PE-backed venture. As a new hire, Dr. M (who asked for anonymity because his comments focused largely on former colleagues) wasn’t eligible for the lump-sum payment, but he figured that banding together with other doctors in his state would improve payer contracts and make it easier to participate in value-based contracts.
Dr. M didn’t anticipate how hard it would be to lose the ability to make business decisions — like choosing a vendor or launching an infusion clinic so pregnant patients experiencing nausea didn’t seek emergency care. Merging practices brings standardization that tends to lift low performers but restricts the flexibility of high performers, he says. “It’s like going from being a boutique specialty store to being bought out by Walmart. We were doing everything in-house and doing things well. It cheapened our brand.”
Dr. M also didn’t like having salaries capped. He figured his fellow physicians were leaving as much as $200,000 on the table each year despite seeing as many as 35 patients per day.
I think there are people who are happy just going to work and getting a paycheck, but if you are in medicine to take care of patients and be in business, private equity ownership is a frustrating thing.
Dr. MOb/gyn
After three years, Dr. M left to become a “locum tenens” provider, a temporary worker paid at a premium by a hospital to fill a critical workforce gap. While there is a baseline level of job insecurity inherent in being a locum provider, they usually command high hourly rates for short-term work, giving providers flexibility but potentially disrupting relationships between patients and providers. “Locums is inherently bad for obstetrics,” he says, and some doctors may avoid it because they can’t foster long-term relationships with patients, but he believes younger patients view doctors more interchangeably and prioritize having timely access to any doctor rather than a specific one. “They’re not necessarily as sentimental as their parents were,” he says.
Dr. M thinks locums jobs may be increasingly attractive to physicians with young families who want substantial time off and to new residency graduates who don’t want to work as employees in large provider groups but have trouble identifying smaller independent practices. As for his old colleagues, he says, “I’m not mad at them that they joined with private equity. I am more frustrated by the fact that they felt like they had to.”
Trying to Sidestep Private Equity
Not all medical specialties draw interest or upfront cash from private equity firms. Since the No Surprises Act went into effect in 2021, preventing hospitals from charging out-of-network rates for the services of emergency physicians, anesthesiologists, and other emergency care providers who opt out of insurance networks, PE firms have had less incentive to invest in their practices.
Marco Fernandez, MD, an anesthesiologist and former president of Midwest Anesthesia Partners, the largest group of independent anesthesiologists in Illinois, turned down such offers when they came in because he doesn’t like how PE-backed anesthesia groups tend to assign cases to certified nurse anesthetists and make physicians their supervisors. “We wanted to do our own cases and take care of our own patients,” he says. “If we’d sold or joined a staffing company, we’d be managing as many as 10 surgeries at once. It would make us glorified rescuers, running in for emergencies and filling out paperwork,” he says. “It’s a different level of stress.”
Retaining hospital contracts for the then-300-physician group became much harder when PE-backed staffing companies using such models stepped into the market, offering a less expensive service. “Within a two-week span, we lost two contracts,” Fernandez says. Some physicians in the group opted to join PE-backed ventures or become hospital employees. The remaining 100, who wanted to retain their model, now primarily serve ambulatory surgery centers or work in three hospitals as locum providers. Similar disruptions are playing out in other markets, leading to delays in surgeries.
Fernandez worries that not having the same anesthesia staff in facilities will impede communication and quality improvement, but he hasn’t found hospitals willing to subsidize a physician-centric approach. In 2022, he joined three other anesthesia groups in forming the Association for Independent Medicine, an advocacy organization that’s been calling for greater regulatory oversight of PE ventures and protections of clinicians’ decision-making. Another organization, the Coalition for Patient-Centered Care, is pursuing a similar mission, in part by asking state and federal lawmakers to apply antikickback and fraud and abuse laws to PE acquisitions of physician practices.
Partnership Is Crucial
The experiences of these physicians, while purely anecdotal, suggest private equity investment can be advantageous if the partnership is structured in a way that aligns physician and investor interests. “A lot of the bad case studies you see involve private equity firms turning physicians into employees whose income is tied to what they generate, mirroring what health systems do,” says Robert Aprill, a partner with Physician Growth Partners, an investment banking and advisory firm that represents physicians in transactions with PE firms. There’s higher satisfaction when investors tie compensation to practice profitability and add value by helping clinicians gain access to data and discounts on supplies, he says. “Private equity can become a vehicle to create super groups across state lines.”
Physicians have to be flexible, Patel says. “Whenever you sell to private equity, it’s not a lifetime achievement award where you walk away with a check. It’s a growth model. That’s where I see private equity deals fail. Both sides aren’t willing to grow together.”
If a partnership goes awry, there can be severe consequences for physicians. Toussaint says that half of the partners at his former practice were gone at the time he spoke with us, and that there was a “mind-boggling” amount of litigation happening. While MSOs typically pick up the cost of a defense, such expenses cut into the profitability, and thus the resale value, of the business. Towsen has also seen instances in which doctors departing from PE-backed ventures had to hire lawyers and forensic accountants to protect their interests.
Keep the Exit Pathway Clear and Well Lit
Too often physicians get distracted by the lump sum that private equity firms offer and sign away rights via letters of intent before showing them to a lawyer, says Randal Schultz, JD, CPA, a health care lawyer with Lathrop GPM in Kansas City. He encourages his clients to capture what matters most to them in contracts, including the hours and years they are expected to work, the terms of compensation that can and cannot be altered, and, perhaps most important, the circumstances under which they can exit without being subject to a noncompete clause or a clawback of the initial payment. “If you get terminated without cause, or they breach the contract, you should be able to walk away without any restrictions,” he says.
PE firms often understand and will try to exploit physicians’ risk aversion, Toussaint says. They know that clinicians with children and tuition bills in their future may be hesitant to start practicing in a new area. In addition to uprooting a family, they’d be subjecting themselves to additional background checks and licensing paperwork. “It’s really time-consuming and draining,” he says.
Ericka Adler, JD, LLM, who leads the health law practice at Roetzel and Andress in Chicago, encourages physicians to think about how they will continue to practice if things go south. “I’ve seen doctors who were terminated from their practices after selling it be subject to a noncompete clause,” she says. Adler also sees a lot of young doctors who are very opposed to working with a PE firm. They want an exit pathway written into their contracts if the practice they join decides to sell to one, so they can move on to a practice that isn’t PE-owned or PE-managed.
Invest in Yourself
Toussaint hopes physicians will consider a third way: capitalizing themselves. “If you have a good management team for your practice, tell them to borrow money to pay partners who want to retire. Then use some of that money to stay true to your growth strategy,” he says.
Now in academia, Toussaint warns the residents he trains to preserve their freedom at all costs. “I tell them your entire life as a doctor has been trying to get in — to the best high school, the best college, and the best medical school. Now your goal when you are negotiating these contracts is to figure out how the hell to get out.”
The diagnosis is simple: “Our health-care system broke in 2020,” says Dr Tom Dolphin, an anaesthetist in London and boss of the British Medical Association. “We like to pretend it didn’t, but it really did.” In the early months of 2020, hospitals paused normal activity to free up beds as they braced for a wave of covid-19 patients. The strategy helped in a moment of crisis. But, several years on, it is becoming clear that those measures did lasting damage to health-care systems. Understanding why is less straightforward.
From admission to discharge, hospital care is now harder to access, takes longer and is of worse quality. The resulting toll includes avoidable deaths. Almost everyone is affected: across 18 rich democracies, satisfaction with health-care quality fell sharply after the pandemic and remains well below the pre-pandemic norm (see chart). Few data sets track hospital performance across countries, so The Economist collected data on health-care systems from all over the world to identify where things are going awry.
Chart: The Economist
The ordeal begins outside the emergency room, or the accident-and-emergency department (A&E).Waiting times have become longer in America, Europe and elsewhere. Hospital entry halls are more crowded and their staff more overstretched than they were before the pandemic, says Dr Alex Janke, an emergency physician at the University of Michigan.
In some parts of Australia almost half of patients arriving by ambulance wait more than 30 minutes outside A&E before space can be found for them. About a quarter of patients experience such delays in Britain, double the level in 2019. In Canada a record number of sick and injured simply give up and leave emergency rooms before they are seen by staff.
Once in A&E, care is slow. More than a quarter of patients in England spend over four hours there, roughly twice the level in 2019. In Massachusetts, a state with good data, more than two in five endure such waits. In Australia, nearly half of patients do so. There has also been a steep rise in “trolley waits”, the time between a doctor’s decision to admit a patient from A&E to the hospital and when a patient gets a bed. Last year nearly one in ten emergency admissions in England, or some 550,000 people, had waited more than 12 hours on a trolley—a 67-fold increase since 2019.
The real trolley problem
The Royal College of Emergency Medicine estimates that trolley waits contributed to almost 5,000 avoidable deaths in Britain’s hospitals last summer (health authorities have disputed such figures in the past).
Millions are stuck on waiting lists. Waits for hip replacements, to take one example, were above pre-pandemic levels in 2024 in nine out of 11 OECD countries, for which data exist. Canada is perhaps the worst hit. The median waiting time for specialist treatment was 29 weeks in 2025, more than a third higher than the 2019 baseline, according to the Fraser Institute, a think-tank in Vancouver. That is the second-worst result since the survey began in 1993; the record of 30 weeks was set in 2024. France’s main hospital union says access to health care in the country is undergoing an “unprecedented deterioration”.
In many countries the challenges of hospitals are viewed as the product of domestic policy choices. Britain’s government, like Giorgia Meloni’s in Italy, was elected in part on a promise to reduce waiting lists; Australian voters have punished politicians for ambulances delayed outside A&E; and in France, where staffing shortages have forced the closure of some clinics, there is talk of déserts médicaux.
But the long-term effects of the pandemic on hospitals are consistent across countries. A paper published in January by Luigi Siciliani of the University of York and his co-authors finds no relationship between a health-care system’s characteristics, be it public or private, and the effect of covid on its function. How much funding a system had, its bed capacity and how many physicians it employed, had little to no relation with big jumps in waiting lists for elective surgeries between 2020 and 2023, which occurred across the board.
Hospitals are jammed up despite being well-resourced. Funding for health care is the highest it has ever been, outside covid. After stabilising in the 2010s, spending in the OECD rose to nearly 10% of GDP following the pandemic. Median spending per person in Europe has risen 13% in constant prices since 2019. There are also more helping hands. Hospitals added nearly 140,000 jobs in America last year, more than the entire rest of the economy. Hiring by England’s National Health Service has increased sharply: its headcount has grown by 25% since 2019 to employ some 1.4m people—or 2% of the population.
All this presents a productivity puzzle. Some hospitals seem to be faring worse with more resources. In Australia, where the hospital workforce grew by almost 20% from 2019-24, elective surgeries are basically flat—the only difference is that the sick are waiting longer to be seen. Though there has been a gradual recovery, “On any measure you want to use in England, productivity is below where it was pre-pandemic,” says Max Warner of the Institute for Fiscal Studies, a think-tank in London.
Hospital productivity is hard to measure, but a good rule of thumb for spotting any decline in productivity is when spending grows faster than output, or revenue. Even in Germany, where the public system is considered to be in good shape, three out of four hospitals lost money in 2024, up from a third in 2019, according to a recent report by Roland Berger, a consultancy. In America operating costs for hospitals increased by 7.5% in 2025, about twice as fast as prices, says Aaron Wesolowski of the American Hospital Association, an industry body. Accordingly operating-profit margins have stagnated since 2019, even as profits in the rest of America’s economy recovered and grew.
Experts differ on the reasons why hospitals, as big, complex systems, have never fully recovered. One explanation lies in the hospital workforce. About half of the growth last year in the operating expenses of American hospitals came from inputs such as labour costs, which grew by 5.6% in nominal terms. Pandemic-era stresses increased churn as doctors and nurses resigned, or retired early. Those who stayed have reduced their “discretionary effort”, voluntary overtime work that helped frail health-care systems surge in peak periods. Burnout remains high, says Dr Margot Burnell of the Canadian Medical Association.
Is there a manager in the house?
Both factors have created an acute need for staff, and spurred a big hiring drive. The knock-on effect is that health-care workers today are less experienced and perhaps less productive. In Britain the share of nurses with less than one year of experience has doubled since 2015, a trend explained also by efforts to improve nurse-to-patient ratios. Moreover, though doctors and nurses have been added quickly, in some countries hiring for other jobs vital to productivity, such as theatre assistants and hospital managers, has not kept pace.
The other half of rapidly rising costs comes from having more, and sicker, patients. Four factors apply across rich countries: longer waits have left patients sicker, sicker patients take longer to treat, longer treatments clog capacity, reduced capacity creates longer waits. It is a doom loop.
First, in many places the queue has never been longer. Across the OECD, a group of mostly rich countries, elective-surgery activity dipped in 2020 by 19%. This has left hospitals with a long to-do list on top of their ordinary flow of new patients. More than 3m missed hospital stays accumulated in France between 2019 and 2024, according to estimates by the country’s health-care unions. In January nearly 40% of those waiting for treatment in Britain—or 2.8m people—had been languishing for more than 18 weeks. That was up from 570,000 in the same month of 2019. Mr Siciliani says that in order to cut those lists, hospitals need not only to return to their pre-pandemic productivity, but also to “support a big surge in activity”.
That task is made harder by a second big change: patients are sicker now. Long waits for treatment have made patients’ conditions more complex. Some diseases, such as cancers, stayed undiagnosed for longer because people avoided hospitals and clinics during the pandemic. (In America this effect was compounded by a rising avoidance of treatment due to expense.) In addition, populations are older than they were a few years ago. All this has seen chronic conditions, such as heart disease, cancer and liver disease rise as a share of hospital workloads. Death rates, not adjusted for age, are higher than before the pandemic. “Patients are staying longer and cost more to treat,” says Dr Richard Leuchter, an acute-medicine specialist at the University of California, Los Angeles.
Patients who stay longer take up precious bed capacity. Bed occupancy is further inflated by poorly performing general-practitioner services and chock-full care homes for the elderly, both of which funnel a growing number of sick and infirm into hospitals. Research by Dr Leuchter shows that prior to the pandemic about 64% of American hospital beds were occupied at any given time; during the pandemic that figure shot up to and remained at 75%. In some states, the average is as high as 88% (85% is considered “safe”).
American hospitals look positively capacious next to public systems, which run much leaner. In Ireland more than 94% of beds were occupied in 2019; that went up to 96% in 2025. In Britain beds are often 90% occupied and delays in discharging patients have grown. That worsens the initial problem, delays at the A&E door.
Hospitals are trying to break free from the cycle. Many are demanding more money and staff. A few are trying novel approaches to make room for the sickest patients. Some American hospitals, such as Dr Leuchter’s, are trying “avoidance” strategies that refer stable A&E patients to clinics without overnight beds. Many countries are trying types of “community care” in which treatment occurs outside hospitals, sometimes in patients’ homes. In ageing societies, it was inevitable that hospital care would change: there would be relatively fewer nails in thumbs, and relatively more chronically ill. The pandemic simply made people sicker, sooner.
In 1970 before there was ESPN Sports Center, there was ABC’s “Wide World of Sports” and its iconic montage opening featuring a disastrous ski jump attempt by Yugoslavia’s Vinko Bogataj and Jim Kay’s voice-over “the thrill of victory and agony of defeat.” It’s an apt framework for consideration of current affairs in the U.S. today and an appropriate juxtaposition for consideration the winners and losers in the White House Office of Management and Budget FY2027 released Friday.
Last week’s “Thrill of Victory” includes the recovery of Dude 14, the F-15E Strike Eagle pilot shot down over Iran Friday, the college basketball men’s and women’s’ Final 4 contests, the successful launch of Artemis II by NASA and, for some, the additional funding ($441 billion/+44% vs. FY 2026) for the Department of War in the President’s proposed budget.
And last week’s “Agony of Defeat” includes continued anxiety about the economy, especially fuel prices, growing concern the war in Iran begun February 28 might extend at a heavy cost in lives and money, and for health industry supporters, a $15 billion (-12% vs. FY 2026) cut to HHS and the 10-year, $911 billion Medicaid reduction in federal funding for Medicaid enacted in 2025 (HR1 The Big Beautiful Bill).
In its current form, this budget is unlikely to be enacted October 1, 2026: it’s best viewed as a signal from the White House about priorities it deems most important to the MAGA faithful in Congress, 28 state legislatures and 26 Governors’ offices controlled by Republicans. Though its explosive growth in of War Department funding to $1.5 trillion is eye-popping, cuts to healthcare are equally notable. Both are calculated bets as the mid-term election draws near (6 months) and clearly OMB is betting healthcare cuts will be acceptable to its base. Its view is based on three assumptions:
1- Healthcare cost cutting is necessary to fund other priorities important to its base. And there’s plenty of room for cuts in Medicaid, prescription drugs and hospitals because waste, fraud and abuse are rampant in all.
Medicaid: Medicaid is a state-controlled insurance program that covers 76 million U.S. women, children and low-income seniors primarily through private managed care plans that contract with states. In HR1, a mandatory work requirement was applied to able-bodied adult enrollees with the expectation enrollment will drop and state spending for Medicaid services will be less. But its enrollees are less inclined to vote than seniors in Medicare and its funding burden can be shifted to states.
Prescription Drugs: The White House asserts its “favored nation” pricing program will bring down drug costs but the combination of voluntary participation by drug companies and impenetrable patent protections in U.S. law neutralize hoped-for cost reductions. The administration wants to lower drug spending using its blunt instruments it already has: accelerated approvals, price transparency, pharmacy benefits manager restrictions et al. while encouraging states to go further through price controls, restrictive formularies and, in some, importation. In tandem, the administration sees CMMI modifications of alternative payment models (i.e. LEAD) as a means of introducing medication management and patient adherence in new chronic care pilots. Recognizing prescription drug prices are a concern to its base and all voters, the administration will use its arsenal of regulatory and political tools to amp-up support for increased state and federal pricing constraints without imposing price controls—a red line for conservatives.
Hospitals: Hospital consolidation is associated with higher prices and increased spending with offsetting community benefits debatable. Hospitals represent 43% of total U.S. health spending (31% inpatient and outpatient services, 12% employed physician services). In 4 of 5 U.S. markets, 2 hospital systems control hospital services. And hospital cost increases have kept pace with others in healthcare (+8.9% in 2024 vs. +8.1% for physician services and 7.9% for prescription drugs) but other household costs, wage increases and inflation. Lobbyists for hospitals have historically favored hospital-friendly legislation like the Affordable Care Act preferred by Democrats. The Trump administration sees site neutral payments, 340B reductions, expanded price transparency, limits on NFP system tax exemptions et al. and Medicaid cuts necessary curtailment of wasteful spending by hospitals. They believe voters agree.
Backdrop: Per the National Health Care Fraud Association, 10% of health spending ($560 billion) was spent fraudulently in 2024: the majority in the areas above.
2- The public is dissatisfied by the status quo and supports overhaul of the U.S. healthcare system to increase its affordability and improve its accessibility.
Consolidation: Through its Federal Trade Commission and Department of Justice, the White House has served notice it believes healthcare affordability and unreasonable costs are the result of hyper consolidation among hospitals, insurers, and key suppliers in the healthcare supply chain. It has appointed special commissions, task forces, and filed lawsuits to flex its muscle believing the industry has pursued vertical and horizontal consolidation for the purpose of reducing competition and creating monopolies. It shares this view with the majority of voters.
Corporatization: In tandem with consolidation, the White House asserts that Big Pharma, Big Insurer, and Big Hospital have taken advantage of the healthcare economy at the expense of local operators and mom and pop services. It presumes they’re run as corporate strongarms that access capital and leverage aggressive M&A muscle to drive out competitors and bolster their margins and executive bonuses. The administration treads lightly on corporate healthcare, seeking financial and political support while voicing populist concerns about Corporate Healthcare. Photo ops with CEOs is valued by the White House; corporatization is recognized as a necessary plus with a few exceptions. By contrast, most voters see more harm than good. Thus, the administration courts corporate healthcare purposely and carefully.
Backdrop: Intellectually, the majority of voters understand healthcare is a business that requires capital to operate and margins to be sustainable. But many think most healthcare organizations put too much emphasis on short-term profit and inadequate attention on their mission and long-term performance.
3-The U.S. healthcare industry will be an engine for economic growth domestically and globally if regulated less and consumers play a more direct role.
The administration is resetting its trade policies in response to suspension of at-will tariff policies that dominated its first year. At home, it seeks improved market access for U.S. producers of healthcare goods and services. It will associate this effort with US GDP growth and expanded privatization in healthcare. And it will assert that expansion of global demand for U.S. healthcare products and services is the result of the administration’s monetary policy geared to innovation and growth. And it will play a more direct role in oversight of foreign-owned/controlled health products and services and impose limits of their use of U.S. data.
The administration also seeks to protect intellectual property owned by U.S. inventors and companies by increasing its policing at home and abroad. In this regard, the administration will play a more direct role in the application of AI-enabled solution providers and expedite technology-enabled interoperability.
Backdrop: U.S. healthcare is the world’s most expensive system, so protections against IP theft are important, but the administration’s legacy in healthcare will be technology-enabled platforms that enable scale, democratize science and shift the system’s decision-making (and financial risk) consumer self-care.
Final thought:
The U.S. healthcare system does not enjoy the confidence of the White House: its proposed FY27 budget illustrates its predisposition to say no to healthcare and yes to other pursuits. It bases its position on three assumptions geared to support from its conservative base.
This budget proposal clearly illustrates why state legislators and Governors will play a bigger role in its future at home and abroad. And it means consumer (voter) awareness and understanding on key issues will be key to the system’s future, lest it is remembered for the agony of its defeat than the thrill of its victory.
No one wants to see health insurance premiums rise. Individuals, small businesses and large employers are already under inflationary pressures. But it will be far worse if health insurance companies fail to help address rising costs facing healthcare providers.
Lengthy contract negotiations between health insurers and healthcare providers are becoming the norm, leaving patients — our shared customers — in a confusing and concerning ‘out-of-network’ status, while health insurers and providers point fingers at each other.
An overused but accurate phrase applies: healthcare providers are facing a perfect storm of pressures, particularly in California, and especially systems that serve large shares of Medi-Cal and Medicare patients.
Among our nation’s 6,000 hospitals, our flagship hospital, Community Regional Medical Center in Fresno, serves the fourth highest percentage of Medicaid patients and is fifth for overall government reimbursement.
While being one of America’s most essential hospitals is rewarding, recent federal changes designed to slow the growth of healthcare spending have resulted in a 15% reduction in Medicaid funding — roughly $1 trillion in cuts nationally over the next decade.
At the same time, California legislation increased the minimum wage for healthcare workers to $25 per hour. While there is none more deserving of this than healthcare professionals, the ripple effects are significant. At our organization these adjustments add $100 million annually in labor costs and will only grow.
Further constraining hospitals are the legal requirements to treat anyone who arrives in their emergency departments, regardless of ability to pay. What other industry is required to provide service first and figure out how to get paid for it later?
Our health system absorbed a $231 million reimbursement shortfall last year for the care of government-insured patients, and we must brace ourselves for more. Higher numbers of ER visits from underinsured patients, as well as higher levels of charity care and bad debt will further widen the gap between our cost for providing care and how much we’re reimbursed.
In the meantime, insurance companies want hospitals to agree to rates that don’t keep pace with rising costs. While government payers offer predictable approval processes and payment timelines, private health insurers increasingly rely on cumbersome prior authorizations, payment denials, paying less for services and slow reimbursement. These practices add administrative costs, strain cash flow, reduce overall reimbursement and threaten our fiscal stability.
Insurers face pressure from employers and members to limit the growth of premiums. But too often, that pressure is used to resist necessary and reasonable rate increases for providers. Health insurers often blame providers for the high cost of care, but hospitals like ours are keenly focused on greater efficiency. In fact, we’re a low-cost leader when compared to the average California hospital.
In some cases, insurance companies propose quality incentive programs as a substitute for adequate reimbursement, then publicly criticize health care providers when we find this unacceptable. I wholeheartedly support performance incentives as a tool for improvement, but not when these programs are used as a mechanism to transfer greater financial burden to hospitals.
As stalled negotiations become increasingly common, regulators and policymakers should take a broader view of healthcare costs by examining health insurer reserves, and their administrative and marketing expenses.
For safety-net healthcare providers like us, modest profit margins are not just about staying afloat, they are critical to reinvestment in technology, facilities, our workforce, and public health initiatives that are essential to the communities we serve.
There is much at stake if payers win the war of words over contract rates. Access to healthcare services, healthcare jobs and the stability of institutions that communities rely on will diminish.
When providers are forced to make deeper cuts to manage this convergence of pressures, patients ultimately pay the price.