Continuing our commentary on Lisa Rosenbaum’s recent work, today we have the first of a two part piece by Dr. Cory Rohlfsen who has written terrific, thought provoking pieces for Sensible Medicine in the past.
Adam Cifu
The episode “Tough Love” from the NEJM “Not Otherwise Specified” podcast has struck a nerve as it approaches 1 million views on “X” (formerly Twitter). The polarizing responses of current trainees, younger faculty, and more seasoned doctors highlight a generational tension in regards to how we perceive, approach, and navigate our roles between work and home. Some work to live. Others live to work. While generational differences are not unique to medicine and far from dichotomous, “X” did what it does best and amplified the most extreme voices in the room.
Some faculty quietly celebrated the candor of a former medical school dean who compared medical students to adolescents and a few trainees responded with cries of “paternalism” or slurs of “boomer.” As more and more trainees reject medicine as a “calling,” an increasingly acceptable refrain of “it’s just a job” has emerged. The result? Gen X and Baby Boomers are questioning not only the younger generation’s commitment to medicine but also their confidence in medical training. These suspicions are not baseless as a 2023 Elsevier survey suggests a majority of trainees are struggling to imagine themselves shouldering a career in direct patient care. This begs the question, “what has changed?”
It would be lazy and irresponsible to chalk up the gamut of perspectives to generational “differences” in work ethic. A more inquisitive approach would seek to understand why the educational bargain feels more fractured now despite ACGME work hours being more “protective” than ever before. I’ve heard arguments that frame this discussion in terms of trainee wellness, physician burnout, social contract, and patient outcomes. I’d like to focus on what I consider “the heart” of the issue – our evolving identity as doctors.
Some consider identity transformation (the process of becoming a doctor) as the “highest purpose of medical education.” In this post, I’ll contextualize key tensions at play that make this process more difficult before offering solutions in Part 2 (stay tuned).
“Kids These Days”
Before we can discuss how our professional identities are evolving, we have to start with how the educational bargain has shifted. Medical school used to promise a future as an independent doctor but this is no longer the case. I don’t think students choosing to sacrifice a decade of their lives towards an uncertain future are lacking work ethic, so it’s about time we retire the tired trope of “Kids These Days.” The reality is current trainees work as hard (if not harder) than generations before them. Medical education remains incredibly competitive and we continue to select from the most motivated and talented pool(s) of learners. Moreover, the sacrifices trainees make today are just as significant (if not more impressive) than generations before when considering the increased cost of living, time delay(s) to start a family, and total debt accumulated – now on pace to be $300,000+ per medical school graduate. The cherry on top of lackluster remuneration and rising debt are the perils of matching into a specialty. Given the bottleneck and chaos of the match, there are increasingly no guarantees for otherwise qualified applicants. Especially now that USMLE Step 1 is “pass / fail,” trainees have less opportunities to differentiate themselves from others. The result? Publication proliferation, joyless learning, and pressures to perform like never before. In short, it’s a mistake to picture medical students on their wellness days off just “kicking their feet up.” They’re more likely to be found re-formatting and submitting research manuscripts in order to pad their CV.
Collective in-competence
Now that we’ve tackled what’s changed as a medical student, let’s consider how the clinical demands have changed as this is the milieu in which identity formation (or erosion) occurs. The analogy of a physical hospital expanding from its original isolated ward to become an interconnected quaternary care center may help. With rare exception, most hospitals get the job done but care gets delivered amidst a bizarre arrangement of disparate towers, phone lines, fax machines, secure messaging platforms, ever changing EMR updates, and the occasional beautiful atrium that tends to overshadow the original ward.
Additionally, the demands of today’s physician are immense. The task of achieving excellent (or even competent) care for high acuity patients with little margin for error is challenged further by expectations for high efficiency / throughput, making it impossible for an individual physician to single handedly provide comprehensive medical care. As an internist, I find this humbling. Whatever pursuit of excellence I seek as a hospitalist or primary care doc, the rate limiting step for the majority of my patients’ care is defined by the system around me.
Put simply, the days of heroic medicine are over. Collective competence matters more than individual competence in the 21st century. The individual talent of plumbers, electricians, and contractors matters less than their ability to work together to deliver timely and coordinated care. Physicians are now primarily thought of as team leaders, patient advocates, and trusted co-pilots amidst a backdrop of increasing patient complexity, sub-specialization, and fragmented health systems. To go about patient care alone in today’s world is to never sleep, make innumerable mistakes, and fail your patient(s) time and time again. We are no longer exceptional because we work long hours, study hard, or think of a diagnosis that no one else did; we are exceptional because we operate seamlessly within a team, navigate novelty with precision, and know when and how to ask for help. The argument that we “have earned” the right to dictate the care plan by working long hours is superseded by the reality that the best plans are co-constructed and evidence-based.
Interconnectivity
The other significant generational shift in our work is the speed and accessibility of our connections with patients. Below is a screenshot of my cell phone which shows how many different ways a patient or triage nurse could contact me (I don’t text my patients or clinic nurses, but some primary care docs do). The same phone I use to video chat my kids to say good night has been bombarded by new ways to reach me. Like a disorganized hospital metropolis connected by haphazard networks of tunnels, skywalks, and parking garages, we cannot effectively navigate our day without becoming facile in each mode of connection. For clinic-based care in particular, the most significant catalyst of this interconnectivity was the COVID pandemic during which time electronic visits, e-consultations, and tele-health became the norm.
The reason this is important is because the impact of this sudden interconnectivity affects trainees disproportionately. I’ll never forget when our hospital adopted the secure messaging platform “PerfectServe” because we could not “turn off” the app to unplug without deleting it from our phones. Residents would often put themselves in “procedure mode” on their days off to avoid misdirected messages. My wife wasn’t too pleased by this and it came to a head during my first supervising month when I was interrupted on a family walk with our newborn to triage an urgent nurse message. Usually, I would wait until after a family stroll to forward a message on but this one read “BP 88/45, please come to bedside.” The only option(s) were to ignore it, forward to my team devoid of context, or call the nurse back. What made this more frustrating was it was not even a hospital medicine patient and the call back number was incorrect. As a result, what should have been a 2 second inconvenience ended up being a 10 minute triage task of sudden anxiety on my one day off that week.
As one who takes pride in patient care and family values, this was the first time I felt the gravity of such life-work tension. As all doctors learn in the throes of direct patient care, the demands of constantly patching the holes of an incompetent system eventually take a toll. And in the era of interconnectivity, that toll is not just immense, it’s pervasive.
Negotiating the physician identity
How well is our traditional, self-sacrificial identity of “patient-centered care at all costs” serving us in this new era of interconnectivity? Burnout rates have never been higher. 1 in 7 doctors struggle with a substance use disorder. And is anyone optimistic that the individual advocacy efforts of doctors is a sustainable solution when the complexity of patient care is outpacing the competency of our health systems?
Herein lies 3 paradoxes for the physician identity:
1) Attribution of competent care to an individual doc has never been lower yet the stakes of individual advocacy and identity have never been higher.
2) As the diffusion of accountability and responsibility has spread across “high reliability” systems, (causing role confusion like never before), the ability and agency of individual docs to model patient ownership and teach advocacy for learners has only diminished.
3) As accessibility to clinic-based care has further eroded boundaries between work and home, we’ve never been more polarized on defining what “healthy” work / life integration looks like.
As disheartening as this post may be, I look forward to discussing innovative solutions on how clinician educators can preserve the best of this profession in the next post. It’s time we talk about our identity because that’s what hangs in the balance.
Cory J Rohlfsen is a hybrid internist, core faculty member at UNMC, and the inaugural director of Health Educators and Academic Leaders which focuses on competency-based approaches to developing future leaders, scholars, and change agents in health professions education.
Interesting essay - not really sure what to make of it. I finished medical training in 1991 - the "golden age" of medicine was already over by that time. As we went into practice, even at that time, the days of "independent private practice" were just about done. My husband and I finished residency and he joined a small private practice in a surgical subspecialty and I joined a large hospital based health care system in primary care. And it has been a struggle over the past 30 years. Him maintaining his private practice has been stressful with extremely long hours and very hard work. My employment by the big system served my purposes for 20 years, but over the last 10 years, became more frustrating for a variety of reasons. I left and started a small private "concierge" style practice 3 years ago. I enjoy this more, but it is still very long hours of stressful work. I've been using Epic for the past 24 years - the EHR failed to make my daily office work easier. The notes have gotten longer, the med lists more complex, the meaningless "quality measure" check boxes more time consuming and onerous. The EHR turned doctor into stenographer and ordering clerk. 24 years in and I actually have to enter MORE clerical minutiae into the system than I ever did before - not a desirable outcome. I have found other technology to be useful overall. I like to text with patients. Texting is how we all communicate these days - why not in medicine? I use My Chart, Haiku, Canto, Telemediq, etc - I'd say these are actually tools that make life slightly easier. Medicine has never been a field where there was a defined work/home line drawn. My understanding was that in the more distant past it was even worse! Patients called doctors at all hours of the day and night. Delays in starting families has been a problem in medicine since women have been in it. Our medical school class was almost half women, so this is not a new issue either. It just wasn't discussed or considered much at that time. Medicine is just a complex field and daily work life is long and stressful. The "golden age" of medicine, when doctors had leisurely lunches at the golf course have been gone for decades (at least 30+ years). The daily "productivity" slog with no time for lunch and hours spent after clinic to complete charts and review information are here to stay unless the entire way we organize and deliver medicine changes. I don't think we need to talk about AI until AI is reliably writing office notes - when I walk out of the exam room at the end of an appointment, I need the note written and orders already placed. That will be a game changer. Until we find ways around the one-on-one office visit as the cornerstone of all medical care, until we find ways to restore some autonomy and camaraderie of past golden ages, the problems noted in the essay will continue. As it stands right now, there is no such thing as "seniority" or "senior partner" in medical practice - the 60 year old is expected to work the same long hours for the same reimbursement in the productivity widget line as the new trainee. Again - unsustainable. Good doctors with a career's worth of knowledge and experience will burn out and retire as there is nothing we are doing to make it any easier to stay in practice. It is really too bad as losing these experienced clinicians does not help anyone. I don't think it solves anything to compare older generations of physicians with current trainees and early-career doctors. What does it matter? we are ALL working in the current system and have been for decades.
“With rare exception, most hospitals get the job done but care gets delivered amidst a bizarre arrangement of disparate towers, phone lines, fax machines, secure messaging platforms, ever changing EMR updates, and the occasional beautiful atrium that tends to overshadow the original ward.”
This line stood out to me the most. It points out not only a medical but a societal issue. On mass we have so many ways to communicate now a days that we should be a well unified but we seem to be more separated and compartmentalized (polarized) than ever. Even with multiple nodes of communication we still can misunderstand each other. And with these quick access forms of communication, one mistake in data or interpretation can lead to a cascade of poor outcomes.
I hope that Part 2 addresses an issue of the need for more doctors. This is seen in the comments by Mary Lamoreaux in reference to lack of access to OBGYN’s.
Lastly the issue of corporate medical care. The line “beautiful atrium that tends to overshadow the old wards” almost made me laugh. My first thought was the image of hospital administration going through the monthly numbers and discussing how to maximize revenue for cath lab and radiology along with increasing revenue for lattes and smoothies in the atrium shops and restaurants.
Looking forward to Part2.