When Esther Dyson asked me to participate in a panel at the Louisville Innovation Summit called “Real-world Care Technologies for Medicaid/Medicare Recipients That Institutions Actually Deploy” next week, I could hear the frustration in her voice in the name of the panel. “Make something useful that people will actually use.”
I stumbled on the word “technology.” What if we said, “real-world care solutions for Medicaid/Medicare recipients that institutions actually deploy.” Is there a difference? Yes. A solution solves a problem. How we solve a problem shouldn’t be the focus.
I think our customers would say, “if you have to do it with technology, fine.” They are not excited about technology. Who can blame them? In health care, technology has created real-world unhappiness, implementation complexity, low morale and a poor user experience for patients and care providers. To our buyer, technology invokes extra steps on the way to getting the problem solved: IT implementation backlogs, security review, and anxiety about data stewardship.
It would be best if the solution was apparent and the technology disappeared.
Which reminds me of this story:
The architect hired to re-design a famous museum pitched his designs to the Board of Trustees as follows: He said, “If you give me enough money, I’ll design you a beautiful building. If you give me more, I’ll make it disappear.” What a seduction!
Is he on or off message — or what? We are taking about Bill Clinton, who said in a speech today/yesterday that small business folks and individuals were “getting killed” by Obamacare….with “premiums doubled and their coverage cut in half.”
When Vermont Governor Peter Shumlin dropped his support for Green Mountain Care a year and a half ago, it looked like single-payer healthcare in the United States might have taken a fatal blow.
I can recall it like yesterday. It was 2004, and I had become the CEO of Blue Cross & Blue Shield of Rhode Island. I was in the middle of my annual physical with my long-standing primary care physician, Dr. Richard Reiter (true). Dick Reiter is my age and is an old school doc. He caught my cancer before it got too serious, and had been yelling at me about things like cholesterol, stress, and exercise for years.