Curly Howard And Our Health Care System

Curly Howard didn't design our healthcare system, but his plumbing misadventure helps explain why it's such a mess -- before and after Obamacare.  [Credit: wondersinthedark.com]

Curly Howard did­n’t design our health­care sys­tem, but his plumb­ing mis­ad­ven­ture helps explain why it’s such a mess — before and after Oba­macare. [Cred­it: wondersinthedark.com]

Curly Howard didn’t design the US health­care sys­tem. Or Oba­macare. Or Repub­li­can pro­pos­als to replace it. But he could have.

Howard, the most cre­ative of the Three Stooges, set out to fix a leak­ing pipe. His solu­tion: add a length of pipe. Each time he did, the flow of water was tem­porar­i­ly inter­rupt­ed, only to resume, this time out of the pipe he’d just added. Unde­terred, he added anoth­er length of pipe. By the end of the episode, a frus­trat­ed and sog­gy Curly is enmeshed in pipes. And still the water flows.

So it is with health­care. The leak, in this case, is the basic premise of insur­ance – that risk is inevitable and its cost must show up some­where. Curly’s pipe is reg­u­la­tion – the unceas­ing attempts by gov­ern­ment to divert and dis­guise the cost of that risk. The sys­tem that result­ed from per­pet­u­al inter­ven­tion resem­bles the one Curly pro­duced – cost­ly, cum­ber­some, inef­fi­cient and confusing.

Two papers by con­ser­v­a­tive econ­o­mists trace how the numer­ous flaws that ante­dat­ed Oba­macare came about and help explain both why the pub­lic has­n’t yet warmed to the new health care law and why efforts by Repub­li­cans to replace it would face a sim­i­lar­ly cool reception.

The Pacif­ic Research Insti­tute this week reprint­ed a paper by Rit­u­par­nu Basu called “The Bro­ken State of Amer­i­can Health Insur­ance Pri­or to the Afford­able Care Act.”

The paper argues that gov­ern­ment reg­u­la­tion is to blame for the sor­ry state of health insur­ance well before Obamacare’s intro­duc­tion. “We must be will­ing to enter­tain the pos­si­bil­i­ty,” she writes, “that … the patient’s ill­ness stems not from too much free­dom but from too many con­trols” (p. 4).

To make her point, Basu notes how the rise of employ­er-spon­sored health insur­ance cov­er­age, itself the result of World War II wage and price con­trols, con­tributed to the pre-exist­ing con­di­tion prob­lem that Repub­li­cans and Democ­rats alike aim to solve (p. 6). Because such ben­e­fits are not tax­able to busi­ness­es or work­ers, the work­place quick­ly became the pre­ferred source of cov­er­age for the vast major­i­ty of Amer­i­cans. So when peo­ple lost their jobs or changed them, they lost their health cov­er­age as well. If they’d devel­oped med­ical prob­lems in the mean­time, insur­ers in the indi­vid­ual mar­ket had lit­tle choice but to charge them high pre­mi­ums, exclude cov­er­age of their pre-exist­ing con­di­tions, or shun them entire­ly. As with Curly’s plumb­ing, a seem­ing­ly benign gov­ern­ment inter­ven­tion (exempt­ing employ­er-based health ben­e­fits from tax­a­tion) cre­at­ed an expen­sive sys­tem (an esti­mat­ed $213 bil­lion this year) that ren­dered health insur­ance less afford­able and more dif­fi­cult to obtain for mil­lions of people.

Basu also showed how state laws designed to de-link pre­mi­um from risk led to high­er pre­mi­ums for the sick and healthy alike (pp. 7ff). Restric­tions on under­writ­ing – a process insur­ers use to esti­mate the risk pre­sent­ed by a poten­tial cus­tomer – required insur­ers to charge high­er rates, mak­ing their prod­ucts less attrac­tive to peo­ple in rel­a­tive­ly good health, dri­ving pre­mi­ums ever higher.

Then there are man­dat­ed ben­e­fits, require­ments that all insur­ance poli­cies cov­er cer­tain ser­vices or class­es of provider (pp. 10ff). The first such man­dates were passed in Penn­syl­va­nia in 1949, oblig­ing insur­ers to cov­er osteopa­thy and den­tistry (p. 10). By 2013, there were 2,000 such man­dates in state-reg­u­lat­ed poli­cies, rang­ing from the rou­tine to the cost­ly. Those man­dates were polit­i­cal­ly pop­u­lar and pricey, dri­ving up pre­mi­ums by an esti­mat­ed 15 per­cent or more (p. 11). They also were polit­i­cal­ly pop­u­lar. Basu quotes econ­o­mist Greg Scan­dlen as say­ing impos­ing such man­dates gave state leg­is­la­tors the oppor­tu­ni­ty “to enact social pol­i­cy on the cheap – at no direct cost to the tax­pay­ers” (p. 10).

“Health insur­ance in Amer­i­ca,” Basu con­cludes, “has not been a remote­ly free, mar­ket-based indus­try for decades. Gov­ern­ment manip­u­la­tion thor­ough­ly per­vades the whole process” (p. 12).

An old­er paper by Scan­dlen argues that gov­ern­ment reg­u­la­tion has been dis­tort­ing the health insur­ance mar­ket­place for more than a cen­tu­ry. Like Curly’s plumb­ing, the accre­tion of reg­u­la­tion has pro­duced “an indus­try that is too expen­sive, too bureau­crat­ic, and too indif­fer­ent to the needs and desires of con­sumers” (p. 1).

Scandlen’s tale begins in the ear­ly twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, when the Amer­i­can Med­ical Asso­ci­a­tion (AMA) effec­tive­ly seized con­trol of state licens­ing laws and med­ical edu­ca­tion. The result was to reduce the num­ber of med­ical schools by half and elim­i­nate five of the sev­en schools that pri­mar­i­ly trained African-Amer­i­can physi­cians, simul­ta­ne­ous­ly reduc­ing the sup­ply of physi­cians and increas­ing their aver­age income (pp. 2–3).

A few decades lat­er, it was the hos­pi­tals’ turn to improve their finan­cial stand­ing. The Great Depres­sion had sub­stan­tial­ly reduced med­ical spend­ing and, with it, their rev­enues. In 1929, Bay­lor Hos­pi­tal in Dal­las began the pro­to­type Blue Cross plan, pro­vid­ing school teach­ers with cov­er­age for 21 days of inpa­tient care for $6 per year (p. 4). The spread of these “pre­paid hos­pi­tal ser­vice orga­ni­za­tions” con­sti­tut­ed a “col­lab­o­ra­tive effort of hos­pi­tals to ensure their own rev­enue” (p. 5), help­ing fuel increas­es in health care spending.

Next came the IRS deci­sion dur­ing the 1940s to exempt employ­er-spon­sored cov­er­age from tax­a­tion, fol­lowed quick­ly by fed­er­al seed mon­ey for hos­pi­tal con­struc­tion, an antitrust exemp­tion for the health insur­ance indus­try, and the Taft-Hart­ley Act, which spread employ­ment-based cov­er­age to new cat­e­gories of work­ers (pp. 6–7). While each devel­op­ment had its mer­its, they cumu­la­tive­ly “cre­at­ed a sys­tem of high-tech, high-cost employ­er-financed health care, which great­ly dis­ad­van­taged peo­ple not con­nect­ed to an employ­er,” Scan­dlen writes. “Not only were these groups left out of the sub­si­dies avail­able to employ­er-based groups, but the upward pres­sure on costs and the empha­sis on expen­sive insti­tu­tion­al care made health care more dif­fi­cult for them to afford” [p. 8].

The cre­ation of Medicare and Med­ic­aid in 1965, Scan­dlen writes, “result­ed in an unprece­dent­ed surge of new spend­ing on health care.” That spend­ing surge, in turn, pro­voked a series of reg­u­la­to­ry adven­tures by the Nixon Admin­is­tra­tion, includ­ing wage and price con­trols, the Fed­er­al HMO Act, and the Nation­al Health Plan­ning and Resources Devel­op­ment Act, which required hos­pi­tals and oth­er facil­i­ties to obtain gov­ern­ment approval before mak­ing cap­i­tal out­lays (p. 10). Per­haps the great­est dis­tor­tions result­ed from the enact­ment of the Employ­ment Retire­ment Income Secu­ri­ty Act (ERISA), which fur­ther dis­tanced larg­er employ­ers from state-reg­u­lat­ed health insur­ance mar­kets (p. 10).

The parade of reg­u­la­to­ry defor­ma­tions con­tin­ued through the 1980s and 1990s, bear­ing acronyms like COBRA, HIPAA and CHIP. With each inter­ven­tion came new costs, new bur­dens, new com­pli­ca­tions, new sources of con­fu­sion for con­sumers and busi­ness­es alike. Gov­ern­ment and pri­vate spend­ing on health care grew; pre­mi­ums and the num­ber of unin­sured grew with it.

“If the health care sys­tem doesn’t work like a well-oiled mar­ket­place, it is due to the financ­ing sys­tem we devel­oped, and that in turn is due to mis­guid­ed, short­sight­ed, and often inad­ver­tent attempts by the gov­ern­ment to con­trol the mar­ket,” Scan­dlen con­clud­ed [p. 18].

We have, in short, built a sys­tem that recre­ates Curly’s plumb­ing project.

Then came Oba­macare. Its tsuna­mi of reg­u­la­tion – thou­sands of pages of leg­isla­tive lan­guage backed by tens of thou­sands of pages of admin­is­tra­tive inter­pre­ta­tions, waivers, exemp­tions, delays, out­right rewrit­ing of the statute and rough­ly $2 tril­lion in new spend­ing, which comes with its own require­ments and stip­u­la­tions – aims to make health insur­ance more afford­able and unin­sur­ance less preva­lent. Ear­ly returns are mixed. Poli­cies sold through the exchanges gen­er­al­ly car­ry high­er pre­mi­ums, more bur­den­some cost-shar­ing and nar­row provider net­works. Few­er peo­ple have so far signed up than pro­ject­ed and most that have enrolled tend to be old­er and pre­vi­ous­ly insured, Oba­macare hav­ing required can­cel­la­tion of their pri­or coverage.

In the unlike­ly event that Oba­macare fails, Repub­li­cans hope to replace it. Their most recent entry, a bill spon­sored by Richard Burr (R‑NC), Tom Coburn (R‑OK) and Orrin Hatch (R‑UT), is called the Patient Choice, Afford­abil­i­ty, Respon­si­bil­i­ty and Empow­er­ment Act (CARE Act). It begins with a repeal of Oba­macare. It pro­ceeds to rein­state some of its more pop­u­lar pro­vi­sions – pre­vent­ing insur­ers from impos­ing life­time lim­its on ben­e­fits, rescind­ing cov­er­age or refus­ing to renew it, as well as let­ting kids stay on their par­ents’ poli­cies through age 26 – while extin­guish­ing such things as healthcare.gov, health insur­ance exchanges and the indi­vid­ual mandate.

In its place, the pro­pos­al would guar­an­tee cov­er­age for peo­ple who are “con­tin­u­ous­ly insured.” A work­er who lost her cov­er­age because she changed jobs, for exam­ple, could not be denied an indi­vid­ual pol­i­cy, would have her pre-exist­ing con­di­tions cov­ered and could not be med­ical­ly under­writ­ten. There also are sub­si­dies for peo­ple with incomes under 300 per­cent of the fed­er­al pover­ty line (around $35,000 for an indi­vid­ual).  Cur­rent law pro­vides sub­si­dies to those with incomes up to 400 per­cent (around $46,700) of FPL. The pro­pos­al also would pro­vide fed­er­al mon­ey to states that oper­ate high risk pools and reform their med­ical lia­bil­i­ty systems.

As with any inter­ven­tion into the tan­gled world of health care, the CARE Act would cre­ate some losers. Among them would be some who have employ­er-spon­sored cov­er­age. Accord­ing to a one-page descrip­tion released by Sen­a­tor Coburn’s office, employ­er con­tri­bu­tions to health insur­ance pre­mi­ums would no longer be entire­ly exclud­ed from tax­a­tion.  Instead, those con­tri­bu­tions would be tax­able to the work­er to the extent that the cost of the cov­er­age exceed­ed “65 per­cent of the aver­age mar­ket price for an expen­sive high-option plan.”  So if the aver­age mar­ket price for such a plan was $5,000, the employ­ee would have to pay a tax on any employ­er con­tri­bu­tion to his pre­mi­um in excess of $3,250 (65 per­cent of $5,000).

Because it would repeal Oba­macare, the pro­pos­al also would repeal its Med­ic­aid expan­sion. So those liv­ing in states that extend­ed Med­ic­aid cov­er­age to sin­gle adults below 138 per­cent of the fed­er­al pover­ty line (FPL) would lose that cov­er­age but would instead receive a tax cred­it to help pay for pri­vate insur­ance. Med­ic­aid also would be restruc­tured, with the fed­er­al gov­ern­ment pro­vid­ing states with a fixed amount of mon­ey that they would use to assist eli­gi­ble populations.

The pro­pos­al, in short, is less ambi­tious than Oba­macare, but also less intru­sive. It would elim­i­nate some of Obamacare’s least attrac­tive fea­tures, along with some that ben­e­fit mil­lions. Although it has yet to be offi­cial­ly ana­lyzed by the Con­gres­sion­al Bud­get Office, it like­ly would require the gov­ern­ment to spend less, but would insure few­er peo­ple. It would, how­ev­er, make it pos­si­ble for peo­ple with pre-exist­ing med­ical con­di­tions to find afford­able cov­er­age with­out levy­ing a tax on the unin­sured or cre­at­ing addi­tion­al cum­ber­some reg­u­la­to­ry superstructures.

Its chances of seri­ous Con­gres­sion­al con­sid­er­a­tion depend on whether Oba­macare sur­vives its sea­son of tur­bu­lence.  Most impor­tant­ly, insur­ers show no sign of bail­ing from the pro­gram, rely­ing on the Administration’s largesse of cor­po­rate wel­fare to pad their bot­tom lines and cush­ion their loss­es. If insur­ers change their minds and pull out of the exchanges, Oba­macare will fal­ter and some­thing will be sought to replace it. The CARE Act is a seri­ous candidate.

What almost cer­tain­ly won’t hap­pen is the emer­gence of tru­ly mar­ket-based sys­tem. Reg­u­la­tions and dis­tor­tions that have accrued over more than a cen­tu­ry are impos­si­ble to break through. They frus­trate the Left, which prefers a pure­ly gov­ern­ment-run sys­tem, and the Right, which seeks a mar­ket free of reg­u­la­to­ry distortion.

The US seems per­ma­nent­ly stuck some­where between, with a sys­tem that pre­serves some fea­tures of a mar­ket obscured by a thick fog of reg­u­la­tion. It is, in some ways, the worst of both worlds. But behind each reg­u­la­tion, each dis­tor­tion, is an indus­try or group of peo­ple that would be worse off with­out it. In Oba­macare, it was the can­cel­la­tion of cov­er­age for indi­vid­u­als and small busi­ness­es, a pro­vi­sion that was nec­es­sary to reward insur­ers that sell through the exchanges with mil­lions of new cus­tomers. Should the CARE Act ever receive seri­ous con­sid­er­a­tion, those with employ­er-spon­sored cov­er­age will like­ly object to its restric­tions on deductibil­i­ty, which are nec­es­sary to fund the proposal’s tax cred­its and risk pools.

The result is that every effort to reform our cost­ly and inef­fi­cient sys­tem inevitably involves the intro­duc­tion of new costs and inef­fi­cien­cies. Reforms can improve our health sys­tem but nev­er tru­ly repair it.

It’s so dis­tort­ed and com­pli­cat­ed that even Curly couldn’t fix it.