Missing the Point: Where Philanthropy and Healthcare Go Wrong
Part 1 of 1
Robert Payton
1997
It is the fashion these days to cry alarm or to attack the Bad Guys or to
expose the unsuspecting weakness. This is my version. The point of this essay is
that the stewards of health care and philanthropy have lost touch with the moral
values of the society that calls them into being and that sustains them as
institutions and as practitioners.
What is missing from health care and philanthropy these days is the notion of
an ideal. What we have instead is the voice of the expert. The expert, as
someone commented in the Times Literary Supplement many years ago, is someone
who knows everything about a subject except what it is all for.
I began to make the connection between philanthropy and health care a long
time ago. It came up again when I read the feature article in the Chronicle of
Higher Education1 about the trials of the academic centers on
philanthropy and the state of research. In it, one of my colleagues, Dwight
Burlingame, lamented that most of the new centers are in business schools. Terry
Odendahl, a friend with whom I often disagree, complains that foundations don't
want to support research that might reveal the flaws of foundations, and
scholars can't criticize those who support their research. Peter Dobkin Hall, an
expert if there ever was one, reports that he will recast the mission of the
Program on Non-Profit Organizations at Yale, the first of the academic centers,
to something presumably more marketable.
A perfect academic blend of angst, schmaltz, and chutzpah. The
Chronicle
headline concludes that academic interest in philanthropy is increasing but that
research support is declining.
For the moment, let the Chronicle report represent the received academic
wisdom about the condition of philanthropy in the university. I want to reflect
on the state of philanthropy and the state of another quite similar and
closely-related new field, that of healthcare ethics and professionalism.
I serve on the organizing board of a new center on healthcare ethics and
professionalism at Indiana. The center began about eight years ago with the
appointment of the first specialist in medical ethics at the Medical School. The
small nucleus of faculty members at the new center has hammered out an ethics
curriculum for medical students, and organized a series of conferences and a
newsletter for healthcare practitioners around the state. Very recently the
focus has begun to shift somewhat from the ethical side of the health care
agenda to the professional side (not that the two can be separated in reality).
The effort at Indiana follows similar efforts begun earlier at universities
like Chicago and Virginia, all of which must look to the pioneering work of the
Hastings Center a generation ago.
The reasons why such centers have come into being are obvious to everyone
except the community of academic medicine. That there is an urgent need for
study and education in ethics and professionalism in health care will come as a
surprise only to those who thought healthcare provision had become a business,
having only recently ceased being a failed bureaucracy. The general public, and
especially the interested public dealing with immediate problems of illness and
its costs, both personal and financial, has known for a long time that the gap
between the public myths of health care and the realities of health care was
growing wider all the time. Only the medical schools and their associated
hospitals seem to have been attending to other things. The cost of medical
malpractice insurance is hardly the first item on the public agenda.
Indeed, many of us believe that academic medicine lost its way quite a while
ago. It became preoccupied with its own interests and problems and needs and
seemed to turn its back on the larger society. For a while, as I recall from my
service on a hospital board in the 1970s, the debate was between the claims of
research and those of patient care. Research won out. The next issue was the
research-related competition for technological leadership: which medical centers
were going to have which machines, if you'll pardon the pun, to do cutting-edge
surgery or transplants.
The progress was dramatic and undeniable. The technical capacity of health
care expanded at a rapid rate. At the same time, the strong traditional link
between the community and its health care institutions and practitioners became
more awkward and distant.
What happened to health care? It became a business. What happened to
professionalism? It became an artifact of a sentimental and righteously
self-serving past. The moral common ground that was once thought to be shared by
the community and its health care practitioners was invaded by people with other
priorities.
Philanthropy has an important role to play in this crisis of health care and
professionalism. The most important role is not financial but moral: voluntary
associations concerned with the public good must serve as voices of the public
conscience. Because the "public good" and the "public conscience" are
problematic at best, the third sector of voluntary action becomes the arena in
which moral issues are argued and new moral alternatives explored.
Philanthropy can also subsidize and sustain the professional ideal as a model
of public life. Contemporary capitalist society exalts the private life and its
values, but society needs people whose careers are committed to public and not
simply private needs. A generation ago a wise and thoughtful sociologist named
Philip Selznick said that professionalism is "the basic answer that society has
evolved for the protection of institutional integrity."2
It is a continuing struggle to bring healthcare ethics and professionalism
and the study of philanthropy into the university because the university is an
uncertain host. Once the university has its act in order - once the university
rediscovers and reanimates its mission - the support will be forthcoming.
The public wants to support such things. The public wants to believe
universities have ideals and are committed to them. Obtuseness about such
matters can be terminal.
1 The Chronicle of Higher Education, 28 November 1997, pp. 37-8.
2 Philip Selnick, Leadership in Administration, Harper & Row, 1957, p. 132
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