How to Sell Assisted Suicide

August 10th, 2008 by DrRich

In July, the Oregon Health Plan injudiciously sent a letter to lung-cancer patient Barbara Wagner denying coverage for the expensive chemotherapy her doctor had recommended, and offering instead to cover palliative care “including doctor-assisted suicide.”

The firestorm of outrage this letter triggered (to see the outrage for yourself, simply Google the search terms “Barbara Wagner” and “suicide”) penetrated even the dulled sensibilities of the Oregon insurance executives. One Jim Sellers, a spokesman for the Oregon Health Plan, admitted to ABC News that “the letter to Wagner was a public relations blunder and something the state is ‘working on.’”

DrRich expects that the Oregon Plan executives must feel at least a little blindsided by the general reaction to their ham-fisted denial letter. Denial letters, after all, routinely list (as an aid to the patient) services which the insurance company judges to be reasonable alternatives to the denied care. While in this case the denied service offered some reasonable hope for prolonged survival, and the service being offered as an alternative (to say the least) did not, that’s really not so much different from the content of more “routine” denial letters. The difference is one of degree, and not of substance. So, Oregon Plan executives might be thinking, “What’s the big deal?”

One must try to be understanding of such insensitivity. It is a fundamental task of health plans to deliver unpleasant news to people whose lives are at stake, and it is normal – even necessary – for those who are charged with this task to grow thick skin. It is perfectly predictable that such thick skin might dull one’s ability to discern subtle differences in degree between various denials of services, subtle differences that might call for more artful phraseologies than those employed in this instance by the Oregon Plan. The failure to recognize the need for a more artful denial letter, Mr. Sellers appears to say, is the problem in the case of Ms. Wagner. The solution, consequently, is not a substantive change in any policy, but better public relations.

Those who run the Oregon Health Plan must be particularly disheartened to learn that even vocal proponents of physician-assisted suicide are criticizing their ill-considered denial letter. To so blatantly juxtapose healthcare rationing with the “option” of assisted suicide seriously undermines the chief argument advanced publicly by the end-of-life movement, namely, that assisted suicide is primarily an individual autonomy play*, and not primarily a cost-saving mechanism.

In other words, whether or not you embrace physician-assisted suicide, everyone seems to agree that offering it as a covered medical service immediately after denying potentially life-prolonging therapy is both insensitive and unseemly.

And so – as a public service to insurance executives in both the government and the private sector who are severely challenged by trying to understand simple human emotions, to patients like Ms. Wagner who may suffer true physical harm by exposure to such institutional callousness, and to the rest of us who simply would appreciate not being confronted so blatantly by the dark abyss that underlies our healthcare system – DrRich offers some friendly advice to health plans on the right way to sell physician-assisted suicide.

How Health Plans Should Sell Assisted Suicide

1) Don’t be so anxious.

Sure it’s easy to get excited about physician-assisted suicide. All you need to do is look at your own data. Whatever sort of health plan you are running, it’s likely that a huge proportion of your spending goes to patients who are in the last year of life. Enticing these end-of-lifers to choose assisted suicide (which you can accomplish in a sufficiently tasteful way for about $100) is such an attractive proposition that it’s indeed become very hard to make yourself appear reasonably circumspect about it. At the very least, it’s difficult not to push the idea out there to your subscribers. Otherwise how can you be sure they know all their options for end-of-life care?

But doing even that much is a mistake. If you don’t believe that, simply look at the small firestorm the Oregon Health Plan created with their simple and helpful “reminder” letter to Ms. Wagner. As a result, neighboring states that appeared ready to pass their own assisted-suicide laws are now having second thoughts about it. It is clear that for a health plan to seem overly interested in assisted suicide, or even to mention the option to their subscribers, is a very counterproductive idea.

A much more subtle approach is required.

2) Publicly disown assisted suicide.

Think about Tom Sawyer whitewashing the picket fence. Ole Tom didn’t get all his friends to paint that fence for him by asking for their help, or by overtly trying to sell or cajole them on the idea. Instead, he got them to do the job by pretending he wasn’t the least bit interested in having them do it, by ignoring them altogether, and making himself seem completely absorbed in the delightful task. By the time Tom was done, his friends were begging for a turn, and even giving him wondrous gifts (such as dead cats on a string) to bribe him for a chance to participate.

What you need to do is pretend that encouraging assisted suicide – even if it’s a covered service that patients ought to be made aware of – is the farthest thing from your mind. Instead, you are completely invested in and insistent upon providing full-service end-of-life care, with all the bells and whistles and no holds barred; and – while patients of course have the option to exercise their individual autonomy as they see fit – you take great pride in squeezing every last instant of life out of those elderly, used-up, chronically ill bodies that present themselves in your ICU, no matter what the cost to the patient and family in terms of pain, suffering, humiliation and anguish. It is your mission to stave off death to the bitter end, come what may, and you’re proud of it.

3) Have somebody else push it.

In the meantime, clear the path for agencies and interest groups which are dedicated to the end-of-life movement. There are plenty of them out there. Have them do the selling for you.

Make sure they have access to your patients and patients’ families, especially in the ICU setting. Allow them space for educational displays; provide them some private space where they can talk to interested patients and families; see that hospital social workers are aware of their presence. In the meantime, make it clear you do not endorse or encourage their efforts, and indeed wish they would go away, but are providing such groups with access in the interest of full transparency and your dedication to patient choice. If patients choose to avail themselves of such information, you will do nothing to stop them.

4) Make the advantages to assisted suicide seem real.

There’s no need for you to talk up the advantages of assisted suicide – let the end-of-life proselytizers do the talking for you. All you have to do is to make their arguments seem accurate. The great part is, that’s just a matter of maintaining business as usual.

The end-of-life zealots will tell patients that assisted suicide is a way of asserting some measure of control over the dying process, of holding on to some level of personal dignity at the very end. So simply make sure your end-of-life care continues robbing patients of any semblance of dignity and control.

They’ll tell patients that assisted suicide will end pain and discomfort and suffering when all hope of recovery is gone. So simply continue with inadequate pain control** and half-hearted comfort measures, and keep the ICU as hectic, loud, scary and impersonal as possible.

They’ll tell patients that assisted suicide will finally bring comfort to their long-suffering family and friends. So make sure family and friends suffer long, by keeping those ICU waiting rooms hot, cramped, noisy, uncomfortable and smelly.

You get the idea. Simply make sure the arguments of the end-of-lifers have teeth. You’re good at that.

5) Tell patients to consult with their doctors before making this choice.

That’s right. Refer patients to their doctors, their supposed personal advocates, the selfsame individuals you yourself have long since fatally compromised (by grabbing control of their individual professional viability). Assuming you have placed sufficient cost-cutting pressures on your doctors, then their willingness to encourage (or at least not discourage) assisted suicide will increase substantially. So when patients do consult with their doctors, the doctors will not undermine your subtle efforts, but will be your partners in convincing those approaching end-of-life to just be reasonable.

6) Make physician-assisted suicide legal, but not reimbursable.

You’re going for the Botox model here. You do not want physician-assisted suicide to be merely another hush-hush medical procedure, conducted quietly and almost secretly in a typical doctor’s office, so that people can pretend it doesn’t exist. Rather, you want to establish it as something that’s front and center, something people will want and ask for and go out of their way to seek. You want to encourage doctors to establish inventive business models for assisted suicide, just as dermatologists have done for Botox clinics.

Accomplishing this, of course, will require assisted suicide to be made legal everywhere (and not just in Oregon and a few other progressive states), but at the same time will require you to NOT make it a reimbursable medical service.*** For once it’s made reimbursable it will become subject to typical healthcare price controls, and you will severely limit the possibilities.

Think of those possibilities: One envisions physician-assisted suicide becoming established as a “life cycle event” like a wedding or Bar Mitzvah, where the right atmosphere, the right spirituality, and the right tone come together to create an unforgettable, uplifting experience for everyone. Some assisted suicides will take place in a doctor’s office, of course, but why not in a place of worship, a favorite city, a resort, a mountain top, a rocky coast, a casino? Why not allow the prospective decedent to actually hear the eulogies and experience the tearful tributes before actually engaging (ritually) in the Act? Why not partner with the deathcare industry to wrap the final healthcare service into a comprehensive package with funeral services? Why not engage American media to celebrate the event with a new mode of reality programming (one that is sure to garner a massive share of viewers)? Why not convert what is today an antiseptic, impersonal and frightening process into one that makes everybody present say, “Yes! That’s the way to go!”

The beauty is that this sort of model will convert what is today, at best, merely the option for assisted suicide into something that’s expected – a true destination event, a natural part of life. Indeed, not opting for assisted suicide, at a certain point in one’s life, will come to be seen as being unreasonable, greedy and selfish. And when granny begins to spend more time in a doctor’s office or (worse) in a hospital where frequent visitation is expected (and other family inconveniences are generated), some loving grandchild will pat her precious wrinkled hand, and say, “Granny, you know, it’s getting to be about that time. Wouldn’t a last weekend in Vegas be just the thing?”

So, if you play your cards right - passively encouraging the end-of-life movement in its effort to spread the word, while making the alternative (i.e., not committing suicide) as nasty and foul an option as possible, and also while coercing doctors and encouraging families to view assisted suicide as the most advantageous modus exodus one could ever imagine – well, the “right” to assisted suicide will shortly become the expectation and even the duty for assisted suicide.

And if those who run health plans will just follow DrRich’s program, you will have accomplished all this without seeming crass and self-serving as you most certainly do each time you send somebody a letter like the one you sent the unfortunate Ms. Wagner.

*Preserving the ethical precept of individual autonomy is the basis upon which modern utilitarian ethicists build their defense of physician-assisted suicide, passive euthanasia, active euthanasia, and even involuntary, secret euthanasia. DrRich will elaborate on the ethicists’ defense of doctors killing people in a future posting.

**This will simply require the government to continue severely and very publicly prosecuting the occasional pain-management doctor. Whether the target physician is actually engaging in analgesic excesses is unimportant to the goal of making any American doctor afraid of aggressively controlling their patients’ pain, for fear of becoming a target themselves.

***You may need to fashion the payment model so that assisted suicide is paid for in the case of hospitalized patients, and for patients in Medicaid programs. The point is to make assisted suicide a highly-desired self-pay service for anybody with enough money for a decent car or central air conditioning.

Skin in the Game

July 30th, 2008 by DrRich

The New York Times recently took dermatologists to task for creating a two-tiered system of dermatology - one for patients with skin disorders, and one for “cosmetic dermatology.”

As the Times describes it, patients who wish to see a dermatologist for, say, possible skin cancer are put on a waiting list, and when their appointed time finally arrives (generally months later) they are subjected to modern medical hell. To wit: Upon arriving in a lackluster office, the patient is shelved for a while in an unattractive, poorly lit waiting room equipped with a broken TV, old magazines, unruly children of other patients, and surly office personnel. Eventually her name is called by a not-necessarily-pleasant nurse practitioner who will “triage” her to the appropriate category (e.g., acne, fungus, cancer, warts- you know, dermatology stuff), have her strip in order to fully expose the large surface-area organ (the skin) for which she has sought assistance, give her a scratchy yellow paper gown to cover her nakedness, and have her wait for some time in a chilly exam room to see the actual doctor. At last the dermatologist arrives, mutters a greeting (or some other ritual uttering), glances at a clipboard, and announces, “Show me your [acne, fungus, cancer, warts];” whereupon, having regarded the cause of cutaneous concern and having made a professional determination, he either signs the prescription that has been pre-written for him by the nurse practitioner, or schedules a procedure. Then, shoving into the patient’s arms her bra and other structural and non-structural equipage, the doctor pushes her out into the hall, as the formal interview is over.

Presumably, one hopes, some dermatology practices not visited by the New York Times might not be quite so bad. Still, anyone who’s been seen by an American PCP lately will nod sympathetically at the dermatology patient’s ordeal.

Now observe what the Times observes when the patient, instead of having an actual skin problem, merely is sagging here and there and wishes to be shorn up. That is, the patient has a cosmetic issue. That is, the patient wants Botox.

The same dermatologist will often have an entirely different setup for these patients. This time the patient is seen immediately, possibly the same day, as dermatologists are sensitive to the needs of those who are about to appear in public, say, at an impending dinner party. If this patient is to wait at all, she will wait in a modern, tastefully decorated private room. She will then be seen not by a mere nurse practitioner but by an aesthetician, who will do a formal assessment of the sagging parts, and, aside from suggesting more injection sites than the patient might originally have had in mind, will offer a complete program for long-term cosmetic maintenance, which naturally will include quarterly Botoxification. At just the proper moment the dermatologist comes in, greets the patient warmly and reassuringly; then reviews the recommendations of the aesthetician and discusses those recommendations at length with both the aesthetician and the patient, studying the patient’s face in depth as he does so, pointing, nodding, agreeing, adjusting, all the while smiling confidently. Yes, he indicates, we will all be very happy indeed with the results. Finally the doctor begins to make the now-thoroughly-discussed-and-agreed-upon injections, doing so with the greatest solicitation and sensitivity. The patient is then given as much time as she needs to collect herself, and is invited to “recover” in a room set aside for this purpose with flattering lighting, soft music, a cappuccino machine, and perhaps a glass of wine. She leaves the office a new person. And, just as the dermatologist has promised, all are indeed very happy with the results.

Naturally, the New York Times is scandalized by the dichotomy which its discerning readers will note here. Why should a patient with a mere cosmetic issue be treated so well, when a patient with an actual medical problem, possibly even skin cancer, is treated so shabbily? How can dermatologists openly encourage such a two-tiered system?

DrRich has a word of advice for the commentators and reporters of the New York Times and any other concerned Americans worried that dermatologists, by setting up separate-but-not-equal practices for their two kinds of patients, are moving us one step closer to the dreaded two-tiered healthcare system we all abhor. That word is: Chill.

Allow DrRich to support this friendly recommendation with two observations.

1) We already have a multi-tiered healthcare system, and little or none of it is the fault of dermatologists. It is the fault of human nature. All countries have at least a two-tiered healthcare system, including countries (like Cuba and China) that have specifically embraced egalitarianism (rather than individual autonomy) as the fundamental operating principle. The second tier, like the poor, will always be with us.

2) When a dermatologist spends Tuesday afternoon in her run-down office, treating people who come to her for bona fide skin disorders like they’re widgets on an assembly line, then goes to her other, better office on Wednesday, treating the merely cosmetically-challenged like minor nobility, she is not really engaging in two-tiered healthcare. Not at all. Instead, she is practicing real, true, prescribed-by-society, by-the-book American healthcare on Tuesday, and doing Something Altogether Different on Wednesday.

Injecting Botox is officially and formally not part of American healthcare. How do we know this? Because it is not covered by Medicare or health insurance. If you want Botox you’ve got to pay for it your own self, just as you do if you want a TV or a car. So by all that is sacred, injecting Botox is NOT American healthcare.

Furthermore, when one looks objectively, injecting Botox is not even really practicing medicine, at least not in any true sense. In actual truth, it takes very little training or expertise to inject Botox. There’s no reason one must go to college, graduate from medical school, or do several additional years of training in dermatology (or any other specialty) to do this. Anyone with a needle and syringe, an alcohol wipe, and access to Botox could do as well. Just find the wrinkle and stick it. If they made the materials available over-the-counter, folks would do just fine with it.

Of course, doctors in general (and dermatologists in particular) have legally cornered the market on Botox injections. So it’s not like you could just set up a booth at the Mall and hire high school students to do this (as you can for, say, ear-piercing - which, in contrast to Botox injections, is an actual surgical procedure which results in a permanent structural change in a body part). If you set up a chain of Botox Booths, you would be practicing medicine without a license, which is a serious offense.

And consider this. Dermatologists could just as easily have taken up a somewhat different well-known cosmetic procedure, one that also involves injecting substances through the skin via needles, and that has much more to do with the skin itself than Botox injections (which actually do not affect the skin itself at all, only the muscles under the skin), but they chose not to. DrRich speaks, of course, of the tattoo. But unlike making Botox injections, tattooing requires real skill, knowledge, training, expertise and artistic talent. Most dermatologists simply could not manage a highly-technical skill like that.

The point, of course, is that injecting Botox does not involve intrinsic skill, knowledge, difficulty, risk, or any other objective characteristic that necessarily renders this a medical procedure while ear-piercing and tattooing are not. Viewed from this perspective, one must conclude that declaring the injection of Botox to be a medical procedure, which cannot be performed by anyone not having a medical license and years of specialty training, is an entirely arbitrary determination.

Fundamentally, then, while performing Botox injections may have a certain legal status, in any true sense it is not really practicing medicine. Rather, it is simply an activity some dermatologists may choose to do when they’re not doing real dermatology.

Doctors engage in this sort of thing all the time. That is, they partake in activities other than practicing medicine when they could, in fact, be seeing more patients. Some have taken up golf. Others have started side businesses such as restaurants or software companies. Some go to graduate school (usually for MBAs). Still others have opted to work part time in order to raise their families.

Society generally finds such activities acceptable, and - to this point - does not insist that all doctors forego all other human endeavors in order to see as many patients as humanly possible, during all their waking hours. While society seems to be moving closer to declaring that doctors owe this duty, it has not reached this point quite yet.

Until society sees fit to legislate otherwise (which, DrRich supposes, could happen as early as the next president’s administration), doctors will continue to spend some of their time engaging in hobbies and business or family activities outside of the formal healthcare system. Some may even leave the formal healthcare system altogether in favor of these other activities. DrRich himself has done this. And until society renders it officially illegal for doctors to do so, DrRich respectfully asks that doctors be left alone to celebrate their individual autonomy as granted to them under America’s founding documents, whether it’s by establishing authentic Indian restaurants, setting up Botox clinics, or even becoming retainer practitioners.

One last word of advice for dermatologists: Have fun with your Botox clinics, fellas, but please don’t become too invested in them. Injecting Botox is not exactly cardiac electrophysiology. This is definitely a shallow-moat business, and the only thing that gives you any protection at all is your aura as highly trained specialists, with special and secret knowledge about an organ (i.e., the skin) which visibly droops when the underlying muscles become lax with age and gravity. A single action by forces entirely out of your control - say, Congress or the FDA - could render your monopoly entirely moot overnight, and you will be instantly priced out of business by hordes of PCPs, nurse practitioners, Botox booths in Walmart, and even home Botox injection kits. So please remember to at least keep your hand in genuine dermatology, or get your MBA, or perfect your long iron shots - but do something that will provide you with a Plan C. Because Plan Botox is definitely a high risk endeavor over the long term.

A Modest Proposal for Controlling Drug Prices

October 23rd, 2007 by DrRich

Last week DrRich proved that waste and inefficiency cannot possibly account for healthcare inflation, and that instead, the unsustainable increase in our healthcare expenditures must necessarily arise, to a very large extent, from healthcare services that are actually useful to patients. This means, of course, that if we’re really going to control spiraling healthcare costs, we’re going to have to substantially cut back our spending not just on waste, but also - indeed, primarily - on useful healthcare. And that means rationing.

In his new book, Fixing American Healthcare, DrRich outlines in some detail a method of controlling healthcare costs, in the face of the unavoidable need to ration, that is fair and equitable, and that jealously supports the fundamental American ideal of the autonomy of individuals.

But DrRich is not naive. He does not think that policymakers will read his book and say, “By Jove, he’s right! Let’s ration openly!” Indeed, he does not think they will read his book at all unless they are forced to.

So, wishing to be as helpful as he possibly can, DrRich today offers an immediate and ready solution to at least one cause of the continually escalating cost of healthcare - the price of prescription drugs.

Everyone knows that the cost of new prescription drugs is extraordinarily high, and that the rising cost of drugs has been one of the prime drivers of healthcare inflation. Many proposals have been made to control drug prices, ranging from the absurd (i.e., repurchasing them from Canada), to the autocratic (i.e., turning over the purchase of drugs to the government, which will then “negotiate” prices). All of these proposals will operate by greatly restricting if not eliminating the huge profits made by the evil men (and, one must say it, women) who run these drug companies.

The problem, of course, is that if the potential for reaping large (obscene, if you insist) profits from new drugs is significantly curtailed, the hugely expensive process necessary for drug companies to bring new drugs to market will be proportionally curtailed. So if we place price controls on drugs, then we’d better be happy with the drugs we have today, because those are likely the only drugs we’ll have tomorrow.

There are some who would be quite satisfied with this outcome, who point out that the majority of new medicines are “me too” drugs that the world can do without, like one more arthritis drug, or yet another allergy pill, or worse, lifestyle drugs like Viagra or Botox. Individuals who feel this way would sacrifice pharmaceutical progress for a saner pricing policy.

Others, however, appreciate the fact that every few years some truly earth-shattering drug will hit the market - one that significantly improves the odds of beating a certain cancer, for instance, or that vastly improves one’s chances of surviving a heart attack. Many Americans would think it a shame if progress on such drugs - even if they are but a few scattered islands in a sea of boutique pharmaceuticals - were to come to a halt, and even if for a good reason.

So here’s the question: Can we have our cake and eat it too? Can we bring down the price of the drugs we buy, while at the same time allowing at least some pharmaceutical advances to continue?

DrRich is delighted to reply, “Yes, we can!” And he humbly offers a plan to achieve this very end. It is a system of voluntary price controls. Of course, DrRich is talking here about us doing the volunteering - we the consumers - and not the drug companies.

DrRich’s Voluntary Price Control System works like this:

1) Each American will declare individually whether or not he/she wants to participate in a system of voluntary price controls on drugs.

2) Those who opt to participate will receive immediate, substantial discount pricing on all available prescription drugs, such pricing to be fixed by a sympathetic government agency whose makeup includes a wide diversity of representation, except, of course, that drug company executives and their shills will be specifically excluded from participation.

3) “Available prescription drugs” under this price control system will be any drug whatsoever appearing in the U. S. Pharmacopoeia, as long as that drug has been on the market for at least five years.

4) Individuals who choose not to participate in the price control system will be charged whatever the drug companies feel like charging them for all their prescription drugs, but will be allowed to receive any drug, as soon as it is approved for marketing, without the five-year waiting period for new drugs.

5) Individuals may switch their status (between participant and non-participant) only during one 30-day window every 2 years, determined by their month of birth.

Why DrRich’s Voluntary Price Control System is brilliant:

For drug companies it is the prospect of making large profits from new drugs, and only that prospect, that drives drug development. So as long as we want new drugs to be invented we’ve got to allow for the profit incentive to continue, as odious as we may believe that to be. The chief advantage of DrRich’s system is that it maintains at least some of the profit motive - to whatever extent citizens opt to be non-participants.

Given the growing hue and cry for price controls on drugs, one can confidently predict that only rich people will opt for this non-participant status. Therefore, a side benefit of this plan is that the rich - those who, after all, can afford it - will fund virtually all progress in drug therapy. This is a burden they ought to feel obligated to bear, being rich and therefore, well, obligated.

Under a universal, mandatory price control system of the kind that many politicians seem to favor, drugs available to our citizens would be essentially “frozen in time,” and henceforth there would be little or nothing new under the sun. Similarly, under DrRich’s Voluntary Price Control System, access to new drugs also would be restricted for participants. Yet this voluntary system would be far better to its participants than would be a universal system - because drug progress would continue. And as new prescription drugs matured in the marketplace, and after their hidden dangers and side effects, during the 5-year “shakedown period,” revealed themselves on the physiology of the wealthy (nya-ha-ha), these drugs would (eventually) become available even to plan participants - and at a substantial discount to boot.

The bottom line: a five-year lag in gaining access to new drugs is vastly better than never having any new drugs at all, especially when the burden of paying for all that drug development, and the risk of becoming early adopters of new, relatively unproven, relatively risky pharmaceuticals, falls entirely on someone else.

So, while at first blush you may not like DrRich’s system - it being two-tiered and all - on further objective and logical reflection you will see that it is far better for everyone than a universal system of price controls.

The punch line:

The happy news is that, once you understand the wisdom of DrRich’s proposal, you will be delighted to know that don’t actually have to wait for federal legislation and the establishment of a vast new price-control bureaucracy in order to participate. You can participate today, right now, with nobody’s acquiescence but your own.

Simply “pretend” that the system is already in place, and that you are a participant, and that the only drugs available to you are the ones that have been on the market 5 years or longer. When you see your doctor, insist - demand - that he/she prescribe only older drugs. This way, by avoiding the new drugs that are being sold at the highest premium, your personal drug costs will be remarkably reduced - just as if price controls were in place. Indeed, if you really want to reduce your costs insist on only 10-year old drugs, or better yet, on generics.

Further, since mandated price controls are not yet in force, drug companies are not yet constrained from investing in new drugs. As long as this situation continues, there will be a steady stream of new drugs reaching that magic five-year status, and thus becoming available to you under your personal, voluntary price control plan.

And best of all, if you were suddenly to develop a medical condition that clearly calls for one of the brand new drugs, one that wouldn’t be available to you, either temporarily under DrRich’s Voluntary Price Control System, or ever under a government-mandated price control system, you won’t need to wait five years (or forever) in order to get your drug. You can simply ask your doctor to write you a prescription.

So: those clamoring for pharmaceutical price controls can have them today - this very afternoon. They can do so in a way that places them in no worse a position (indeed, in a far better position) than if a mandatory price control system were in place, and without reducing the options for everyone else. Indeed, the only way it would make sense to continue demanding mandatory price controls would be if something other than reducing drug prices were the chief motivating aim.

Now, what do you suppose that could possibly be?