Malpractice Insurance Costs Don’t Add
S.Q. Lapius was thrilled
with his new pocket computer. He fussed with the buttons and marveled
when the green dots lit up to enumerate the sums and multiples he had put into
the machine.
“Do you think it will
replace television?” I asked.
“I think you could
program it to be at least as interesting,” he replied.
Then I noticed that in
conjunction with the calculator, he was busily engaged in copying figures from
stock market reports and other numerical material he had somehow gotten his
hands on.
“Don’t tell me that you
are going into the market?” I said.
“Why not?”
“You can’t outguess
anybody with the computer. Every broker in the county and every fund
manager has one,” I said.
“Perhaps they have, but
they didn’t use it properly,” he said smugly.
“What makes you so
sure?” I asked.
“Because of the
malpractice crisis.”
That one took me by
surprise. As often as Lapius turned quick conversational corners, I was
usually able to predict the area into which he would wander, but this was a
shocker. I couldn’t follow the logic.
“The malpractice crisis
is due to the number of large awards that juries make. Recently a girl
settled for $165,000 when the jury was set to hand her $900,000. With
awards of that size, it is no wonder there is a crisis,” I said.
“Well, that’s not the
whole of it,” Lapius said, continuing to punch figures into the computer.
“Do you realize, Simon
that the physicians next year will pay more than $1 billion in malpractice
insurance. The cost to the public will approximate 10 billion, or 10
percent of the national bill for health care?”
“Yes.” Then
silence.
“Look, Simon, you
started the subject. You can’t just ignore the details.” I
continued my monologue. “How about the lawyer’s contingent fee. The
higher the judgment, the more money the lawyer clears. If he wins $1
million for his client, he gets a third of it. No wonder they push for
higher awards. I sure would like to get a contingency fee every time I
save someone’s life.”
“Has little to do with
the crisis,” Lapius mumbled, without looking up.
“Something has to do
with the crisis, Simon. If not the matters I’ve listed, what then?” I
asked.
Lapius stopped what he
was doing, packed the small black-magic medicine into its black plastic case,
zippered it carefully shut and turned to face me.
“What I have been
computing, Harry, is the most probably average loss to the insurers that they
suffered in the last stock market decline. Whether or not you were aware
of it, the insurers had their surplus funds tied up in securities. When
the market collapsed, some companies lost more than half their surplus, the
funds remaining after claim losses are paid. That’s the reason for the
malpractice crisis. The stock market took more away from the insurers
than all the malpractice claims together. Now malpractice insurance rates
have to multiply to make up this surplus that the insurers lost in the stock
market. Whoever gave them the right to gamble with my money? The surplus
should have been tied up in the government equities convertible to cash.
Where do they get the never to play the market with the hard earned funds of
the doctors, and then charge the doctor for their losses? One thing I am
certain of, they do not share with the doctors their gains. I never saw
my malpractice insurance rate go down in a bull market,” Lapius said.
“Maybe they go up more
slowly though,” I offered lamely.