Why does more medicine sometimes mean worse care?
Quantity, Quality, and the Cost of Care
In one Texas town, healthcare cost nearly double the national average, yet patients were no healthier. Why does more medicine sometimes mean worse care?
Humboldt’s Home Essay | Inspired by "The Cost Conundrum" by Atul Gawande (The New Yorker, June 1, 2009)
Where More Costs More — and Does Less
In McAllen, Texas, the cost of healthcare was among the highest in the country — yet the people weren’t any healthier. In fact, health outcomes were often worse. Atul Gawande’s 2009 investigation didn’t just highlight a problem in one town; it uncovered something much larger: a systemic disconnect between cost and care, between medical effort and meaningful health. McAllen became emblematic of a broken model. Its Medicare spending was nearly double the national average, yet patients were not living longer, feeling better, or functioning more independently. In some ways, they were faring worse. Gawande, a surgeon and public health researcher, saw not just excess — but ineffectiveness. This wasn't a case of not spending enough; it was a case of spending badly.
The Incentive Machine
Why was so much money being spent, with so little return? The answer Gawande offered was simple but disturbing: the system was designed that way. Physicians were paid based on how much they did — the number of tests ordered, surgeries performed, specialists referred — not on how well patients did. This incentive structure didn’t necessarily reward greed, but it reliably rewarded volume. And in McAllen, that volume had become the norm. The healthcare economy evolved to treat more procedures as more success. But from a systems perspective, what gets rewarded gets repeated — and what gets repeated becomes invisible. In McAllen, high-cost medicine was no longer seen as unusual; it was just business as usual. And yet, the costs were not only financial. Patients were exposed to unnecessary radiation, risked complications from needless surgeries, and were burdened with fragmented care. The more-is-better mindset quietly eroded the very goal of medicine: to help people live better lives.
Culture as Infrastructure
One of Gawande’s most powerful insights was about culture. When he compared McAllen to places like the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota — where care was coordinated, collaborative, and less expensive — the contrast was striking. Mayo didn’t achieve its results by having fancier technology or stricter government rules. It achieved them through a different medical culture. At Mayo, physicians were salaried. They worked in teams. They shared information and emphasized prevention. In McAllen, physicians operated more like entrepreneurs. They owned imaging centers, outpatient clinics, and surgical suites. Every extra test or referral was also a business opportunity. Culture, in this context, is infrastructure. It's the invisible framework that shapes decision-making. In McAllen, the dominant culture pushed doctors toward fragmentation and overuse. In Rochester, Minnesota, it pulled them toward stewardship and shared care.
Feedback Loops and Inertia
From a Humboldt’s Home perspective, this is a case study in feedback loops — and how powerful they can be, even when they’re steering us in the wrong direction. Over time, the structure of the system begins to harden. Software, billing practices, training, compliance rules — all start to orbit the existing incentives. Eventually, everything is built to support a model of quantity over quality. Changing one part of the system becomes impossible without changing the rest. This is what systems thinkers call path dependence: the longer we go down a road, the harder it is to turn back. And what’s worse, this kind of structural inertia often feels neutral. It doesn’t feel like greed or malice. It feels like doing your job, following protocol, hitting your numbers. But the result is the same: more care, more cost, worse outcomes.
Not Just a Money Problem
It’s tempting to think of the U.S. healthcare crisis as just a budgetary issue. But Gawande reminds us — and so do the principles of interconnected thinking — that this is a justice issue, a trust issue, and a safety issue. Overuse of medical services doesn’t just waste money — it harms people. Every test carries a risk of false positives. Every procedure introduces the potential for complications. Every handoff between siloed specialists introduces error and delay. And those harms fall disproportionately on people with fewer resources, less time, and lower access to advocacy. If a person gets care that is expensive and ineffective, they’re not just being overcharged — they’re being failed.
The Hidden Cost of a Broken Narrative
Gawande's essay also reveals how deeply embedded stories are in the way we shape systems. In the U.S., there's a prevailing cultural belief that more effort equals better results. We apply it to education, to the workplace, and, dangerously, to medicine. But as Gawande shows, that assumption doesn’t hold up. The U.S. spends far more on healthcare per capita than any other industrialized nation, yet ranks below many in life expectancy, infant mortality, and chronic disease outcomes. The belief that “more is better” has become a kind of medical superstition — one that’s baked into the system, not because it’s true, but because it’s profitable.
What Kind of System Do We Want?
The real question Gawande leaves us with — and the one that HH urges us to keep asking — is: What kind of healthcare system do we want to build? Do we want one that maximizes revenue? Or one that maximizes wellness? One that prioritizes transaction, or transformation? The answer lies not in isolated reforms, but in systemic redesign: incentives, training, measurement, and — most of all — values. Systems thinking teaches us that outcomes are not accidents. They are products of design. If we’re unhappy with the results, we need to redesign the system. That means redefining what success looks like — not in terms of quantity, but in terms of care.
Sidebar: For Further Thought
• Systems View: What happens when incentives align with quantity instead of quality? • Cultural Reflection: How does local medical culture shape national costs? • Justice Lens: Who is most harmed when care becomes a commodity? • Historical Inquiry: How did we come to equate more tests with better medicine?
Classroom Discussion Prompts
• Should physicians be paid based on outcomes instead of procedures? • How can feedback loops be disrupted in medical systems? • What ethical responsibilities do providers have in high-cost areas? • How does this essay connect to your own experience with healthcare? • If you could redesign one part of the system, what would you change — and why?
Sources
• Gawande, Atul. “The Cost Conundrum.” The New Yorker, June 1, 2009. Primary source for this essay; Gawande’s investigation of McAllen, Texas, illuminates the systemic link between financial incentives and overtreatment.
• Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS). “Medicare Spending per Beneficiary Data.” Used for corroborating cost differentials between McAllen and national averages cited in Gawande’s reporting.
• Fisher, Elliott S., et al. “The Implications of Regional Variations in Medicare Spending. Part 1: The Content, Quality, and Accessibility of Care.” Annals of Internal Medicine, 2003. Seminal Dartmouth Atlas research explaining geographic cost variations and their weak correlation with improved outcomes.
• Berwick, Donald M. and Hackbarth, A. “The Triple Aim: Care, Health, and Cost.” Health Affairs, 2008. Framework referenced for aligning system incentives around value rather than volume.
• Institute for Healthcare Improvement (IHI). “Reducing Overuse and Unwarranted Variation.” Supports the systems-thinking approach to feedback loops, incentive design, and culture change in healthcare delivery.
© 2025 Michael A. Pink
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