In the last week, I was speaking to an acquaintance who casually mentioned how private equity involvement in eating disorder programs came up in his workplace in the last week. There was some discussion as to whether or not to pursue this business financially, and the company was interested in talking to someone knowledgeable about the industry, hence the conversation.
Anyone familiar with my blog would know I was taken aback. But this is our profit-driven economy at all costs, especially to the disempowered, so no one, least of all me, should be surprised.
Everything is now commodified. Sure, that can mean items we purchase, experiences we covet or subscriptions that momentarily seem appealing. Plus, there are other infinite, at times nefarious, possibilities.
Somehow, our health, private struggles and even quality of life, are fair game for profit-making. What’s shocking isn’t the idea of profiting off of any business concept but how we nonchalantly appear to have crossed a line and accepted just how vulnerable we all are to exploitation of all elements of our lives.
Private equity is deeply invested in health care as a means to an end. Buying health care services in all capacities, streamlining businesses to cut costs then selling the company for a profit is nothing new. We have helplessly accepted the trade off of decreasing value of health care combined with higher prices with barely a whimper.
Eating disorder treatment is no different, but taking advantage of mostly young people, who are scared, unwell and confused, by multiplying available treatment programs, staffing them with inexperienced clinicians and ignoring the clear failure of this treatment regimen for most patients reveal the truth beneath the private equity intrusions into eating disorder care.
Improved patient outcome was never the goal. Instead, the goal is profit which entails not helping people get well. If that were the case, treatment could have evolved and grown in a more effective and reasonable direction. The smart people running these companies could improve outcomes, if that were the clear objective.
Private equity-led eating disorder programs capitalize on health insurance money by cycling patients in and out of programs with minimally useful interventions. Patients no longer come out of treatment with hope. More and more clinicians avoid recommending higher level of care unless the step is absolutely necessary. Ironically, patients seem to have fewer legitimate options these days.
After the acquaintance mentioned private equity to me this week, I didn’t say much other than finance companies have not helped people with eating disorders at all. Inside, I just felt the reverberation of sadness, frustration and determination to offer alternatives that can lead people with eating disorders towards recovery and a better life.
