Searching For Common Ground, Ctd

by Patrick Appel

DiA nixes the temperature tax:

[T]he contentious issue at Copenhagen isn't whether or not CO2 emissions are causing global warming. The contentious issue at Copenhagen is how to apportion the burdens of reduced emissions between developed and developing nations. In all of the discussions over global warming, there's one thing nobody seems to talk about, a gigantic…well, not an elephant in the room exactly—more like a huge tame tiger that people don't notice because it doesn't make much noise. And that tiger is this: There are virtually no climate-change sceptics in China.

This is all the more remarkable when one reflects on how advantageous it would be for China to cast doubt on the science of global warming, if it were really interested in forestalling restrictions on its carbon emissions. But in any case, the temperature tax would be useless in achieving global consensus on carbon-emissions reductions, because the existence of global warming is not the subject under international dispute. The subject under international dispute is who pays for the reductions.

The best health care in the world, cont.

by Andrew Sprung

Patrick links to libertarian Matt Welch's stunning confession and demonstration, based on extensive personal experience, that the "socialist" French health care system is vastly superior to the U.S.'s disintegrating patchwork. (The French enjoy universal coverage with small co-pays, minimal wait times, access at will to any doctor in the country, and complete medical records embedded in a chip on each citizen's national health card).  Patrick also links to Clive Crook, who argues that the virtues of the French system can't be duplicated in the U.S.  I take issue with that.

Crook quotes as follows from an article he wrote this summer:

The success of the French system does not establish the superiority of public insurance. It establishes the superiority of a system that, as much by historical accident as by design, has kept doctors' pay very low. This, in turn, requires a medical-liability regime that minimizes litigation (so much for patients' rights in that sense) and guarantees essentially free training for medical professionals.

The idea that France's system could be grafted onto the American setup is most misleading. To be sure, in organizational terms, it could be. Structurally, the two countries' systems are not that different. The French scheme is like Medicare on a much larger scale — with all the virtues and drawbacks of that system. But plug American rates of pay into that design and the impressive cost advantage vanishes.

It's true that Americans pay more than twice as much per person, and probably way more than twice as much per procedure, as the French do, and that that gap won't be closed any time soon. But it's also true that if we adopted the key element in the French system, along with a series of cost control measures seeded into the pending reform bills, we could begin to close that gap.

France's system is not single payer: there are about 14 nonprofit "sickness funds" that pay patients' bills. But it is single pricer — the government negotiates payment rates and sets the coverage rules for all insurers. The government has monopsony pricing power — as does the government in every other country in the world that offers universal health insurance (i.e., every wealthy country in the world except the U.S).

Obviously, the pending health care reform bills in the U.S. do not create a "single pricer" system. Either a strong public option or a Medicare expansion would have been a large step in that direction. Cost pressures down the line will probably push us in that direction, though.  When Medicare essentially sets the baseline payment rates for all procedures, we'll have plugged the hole in our system that makes it more expensive than any other.

Of course, we'll be starting from a baseline where we pay twice as much as the French and other wealthy countries.  But that's where the reform bills' pilot programs come in.  The French system does share a core weakness of ours, a fee-for-service payment structure, which provides no incentives either to providers or to patients to limit care to what's proven to work.  The Senate bill in particular has impressed a wide spectrum of top health care economists with a series of initiatives designed to chip away at that system. These include pilot programs to seed reforms like accountable care organizations, bundled or global payments, and incentives or penalties for things like infection rates and readmission rates.  

The pilot programs strike many people as small bore. But Atul Gawande has come up with a startling precedent for pilot programs seeding (literally) an explosion of efficiency and efficacy with an industry basic to our biological well being: the model farms and other demonstration projects implemented by the Department of Agriculture in the early 20th century.  These, in conjunction with comparative effectiveness research projects and a "hodgepodge" of other USDA programs, led to a halving of food prices and of the percentage of Americans tied to the land within three decades.

"The government never took over agriculture," Gawande writes,

but the government didn’t leave it alone, either. It shaped a feedback loop of experiment and learning and encouragement for farmers across the country. The results were beyond what anyone could have imagined. Productivity went way up, outpacing that of other Western countries.By 1930, food absorbed just twenty-four per cent of family spending and twenty per cent of the workforce. Today, food accounts for just eight per cent of household income and two per cent of the labor force. It is produced on no more land than was devoted to it a century ago, and with far greater variety and abundance than ever before in history.

Gawande enumerates in loving detail a host of pilot programs in the Senate and House bills that he suggests have the potential to drive a similar revolution in health care. Like Obama, too, he looks to American history to find hope, and to renew faith in government.

John Cole Is Not Smoking Rock

by Patrick Appel

But he thinks others are:

[W]here we are right now, clearly our options are some version of the bill in the Senate, or no bill at all.

Anyone who thinks the House and the Senate are going to just say “to hell with it” and start over from scratch is just smoking rock. How many months did it take for a bill to get out of Baucus’s committee alone. On top of that, we would be treated to another six-eight months of teabaggers throwing things at congressmen, wildly inflated claims on Sarah Palin’s Facebook page and the op-ed pages of the Washington Post (although, in reality, those two things are pretty much one and the same these days), and so on. And then, you have to filter in that all of this would be happening in an election year, and with the notoriously timid Democrats, you have to be sniffing glue to think that the bill is going to be easier pass and more progressive. And then, assuming the House does manage to get it passed, does anyone think Ben Nelson and Joe Lieberman are going to suddenly decide the public option is a good idea? If so, why? Does anyone think that the blue dogs and “moderates” are going to become less of a wholly owned subsidiary of the insurance and pharmaceutical industries?

Drum says much the same.

Depressing Christmas Songs, Ctd

by Chris Bodenner

A reader writes:

THANK YOU for the Pogues! That song never fails to give me goosebumps, but while it is certainly melancholy I never find it depressing. Perhaps it speaks to the Irish blood I don't have, but there is something about it that always uplifts me: perseverance in the face of difficulties, especially difficulties of our own making. At a time when suicides shoot up and many people feel alone and depressed, I think underlying theme of this song is really a blessing, not a burden. Reality can suck, but in the end it's all we really have: "I coulda been someone." "Well, so could anyone…"

That said, maybe I'm just an optimist. It's not like the Pogues can't stick a shiv in your heart and show the dark side with not a shred of uplift; check out "The Old Main Drag." But while we're on the topic of Christmas songs, what about the Kinks? Perhaps not depressing but a cunning comment with a dark side, and a rocking song to boot!

“One Of Texas’ Best Kept Secrets,” Ctd

by Chris Bodenner

A reader writes:

Great…another slam at San Francisco.  This one is a bit different because in addition to the usual bitchy insults at those of us who live here, your writer did include justified praise for our city's beauty.  I suppose that's progress of a sort.

I've lived in San Francisco for half of my life now, and while I've met a few boorish, hard-core lefties they are no more abundant than the boorish, hard-core righties I grew up around in suburban Cleveland.  In fact, San Francisco has more of a sense of neighborhood and community than anywhere else I've lived or even visited.  The people are just as nice and you can usually count on your neighbor to feed your cat and make sure your kid isn't running into the street.  Golly, just like anywhere else.

And as for lighting a cigarette at a party – nobody will give you a second look if you do so outside, but that's the rule just about anyplace else these days.  And I laughed out loud at the idea that it's "heresy" to oppose the federal government in favor of the free market.  Reaching for such a hackneyed and shopworn cliche should have caused your bullshit monitor to jump around with sparks flying, but because it's perfectly acceptable to throw cheap, ridiculous insults at San Franciscans perhaps it didn't even make a peep.

What's I find so strange is that if a San Franciscan ever suggested that someplace else wasn't as nice a place to live, they would be subjected to all sorts taunts about elitism.  But when everyone else is constantly slamming our beautiful city, it's perfectly OK.

For what it's worth, I visited San Francisco for the first time last month and totally fell in love.  Hotel des Arts is a great place to stay.  Foreign Cinema for dinner.  Working Girls' Cafe for egg sandwiches.  And if you're a native in need a custom bike, go here.

Fomenting Fear And Loathing, Ctd

by Chris Bodenner

A reader writes:

Your post fairly admonished Hannity for exploiting grief to create propaganda, but fails to recognize why his piece is propaganda. It is so not because Hannity fails "provide counterbalance from grieving victims with alternate views," but because his argument is intellectually dishonest: rationally, he is wrong (in saying that justice is "providing aid and comfort to an enemy"), but he avoids rationality by exploiting his viewer's empathy & guilt. Doing such is the creation of propaganda; his piece would still be malicious dishonesty even if he rustled up an opposing viewpoint. Indeed, strategy often employed by him and others of his mold (and increasingly by real journalists) is the use of differing opinions to legitimize drivel. Fox seems to be built on that 'Fair & Balanced' idea.

Another writes:

Has the public already forgotten how Sean Hannity marched at the head of the parade to destroy the career of the Dixie Chicks for daring to criticize a president during a time of war? What Natalie Maines said about Bush was mild compared to Hannity's disgraceful exploitation of 9/11 victims to foment hatred against Obama.

The Daily Wrap

Today on the Dish we featured commentary on healthcare reform from Ezra Klein, Julian Sanchez, Glenn Greenwald, and Matt Welch. Sprung explored the terrorist tension between India and Pakistan, explained how the latest surge in Afghanistan was not anticipated at first, analyzed the diplomatic scene behind the Israeli settlements, glanced at the UK's precarious economy, and observed the potential brutality in all of us. Friedersdorf addressed the liberal complaint over the slow ship of state, highlighted another absurd case of sexual prosecution, shared emails from the South here and here, and aired reaction to the infamous sheriff in Arizona. Patrick pondered the way Washington works.

— C.B.