A small town of less than 2,000 households, Hurricane, West
Virginia, is betting its future on its location amidst “Advantage
Alley,” a five-county partnership promoting economic development
along the state’s Interstate 64 corridor.
Yet, ironically, the town suffers from a major disadvantage.
Hurricane, it turns out, is caught the eye of a storm now
threatening America’s health industry: over-zealous trial lawyers
who, in this instance, have descended upon the community’s sole
hospital and buried it underneath an avalanche of lawsuits, thus
compelling the citizens of Hurricane and tens of thousands of
others West Virginians to look elsewhere for reliable medical
care.
At issue is the future of Putnam General Hospital in Putnam
County, West Virginia. More than 100 lawsuits have been filed
against Putnam General’s parent company, Hospital Corporation of
America, seeking billions in damages for alleged medical
malpractice. Specifically, the suits claim wrongdoing on the part
of Dr. John Anderson King, an orthopedic surgeon who was on staff
at Putnam General for eight months between 2002 and 2003, before
the hospital suspended his privileges.
HCA’s response to this litigious piling-on? It planned to shut
down the hospital, which would have occurred at August’s end had
not a nearby medical center intervened. However, with the new
management running the hospital on only an interim basis, Putnam
General’s future remains very much in doubt. If the past is any
indication, the rural community is in deep trouble. Twenty-five
years ago, it took county officials more than five years to
convince the West Virginia Health Care Authority to approve
construction of a new hospital.
This one county’s plight raises at least two important questions
about the future of America’s health industry, the first being the
reliability of both doctors and medical information in this
Information Age. The fact is Dr. King was licensed to practice in
West Virginia and nine other states. HCA contends that its
background check found nothing troublesome regarding the doctor.
However, as the Wall Street Journal has reported, medical
data bases contained faulty or incomplete information. So while
trial lawyers look for a big payday (trial lawyers typically walk
away with at least one-third of an award), what goes overlooked is
the veracity of government watchdogs, who theoretically should be
safeguarding our hospitals just as they keep a watchful eye on our
airports and airwaves.
Which leads to the second question: what’s motivating the trial
lawyers? It is really easing others’ suffering, or is it just
another case of fattening one’s own wallet?
That so-called “jackpot justice” is a cash cow on today’s
society is hardly a moot point. One study has found that America’s
trial lawyers generate about $46 billion annually, with revenue
growing more than 11% a year — nearly triple the rate of growth in
the nation’s domestic product. A recent report by the Manhattan
Institute finds that medical malpractice liability now accounts for
one-tenth of America’s “tort tax,” which each year costs a family
of four more than $3,300.
And if you doubt that dollar signs weigh as heavily as justice’s
scales, consider this amusing sideshow that’s spawned from Putnam
County’s woes. As anyone who watches late-night television knows,
trial attorneys advertise to generate business. And, in the case of
Putnam General, they do their best to try their cases in the court
of public opinion.
But, apparently, not all trial lawyers get along.
A Charleston attorney has filed suit against 25 of his former
clients in the Putnam General case, claiming they owe him $76,000
for “litigation-related costs and expenses” while he represented
them. A fellow local trial attorney has called the case “nuts” and
“unprecedented.” It turns out that the two attorneys have gone
after each other in court before, over allegation of fraud,
extortion, and how to divide an $833,000 “jackpot” from a drug
manufacturer.
Granted, trial lawyers aren’t the only profession to be
profit-motivated. But the question is: profit to what end?
The West Virginia Record, a legal journal, summed it up
neatly in a recent editorial. “Justice needs to be served,” it
opined. “The problem is that lawyers want much more than that.”
It went on:
A sympathetic lot, as spectators we casually figure big
numbers like $50 million or $100 million in damage are fair
compensation for whatever turmoil they’re meant to cure. Still we
never stop to think exactly where this money comes from — how the
expense of putting a family on easy street is exacted not just from
the defendant and their insurance company, but the rest of us.
Higher prices, lost jobs, fewer life-saving drugs, and in this
case, a disappearing hospital — these aren’t hidden costs. They’re
as real as the impact they have on our lives — and on our
pocketbooks. Killing Putnam General won’t make the world more just
or medical care more consistent. But it will make life in Putnam
County less safe and a handful of people — of lawyers —
fabulously wealthy.
America’s trial lawyers recognize this, which may be why they’ve
been busy polishing their image. Recently, for example, the
American Trial Lawyers Association voted to change its name to the
American Association for Justice (the
Washington Post
sarcastically noted that the runner-up choice was “Association for
Apple Pie, Motherhood, and the American Way”).
The Shakespeare question notwithstanding, what’s in a name does
matter. Across America, trial lawyers have wreaked havoc on state
and local economies. Take California, for example. Trial lawyers
there have launched securities class-action lawsuits against
Silicon Valley, have discouraged job-growth by threatening
employment lawsuits, and have suppressed the state’s housing sector
with frivolous construction-defect lawsuits. Perhaps California,
with its world-class economy, can afford the hassle. Try telling
that to West Virginia, which was just ranked 49th by Forbes.com
among “best states for business.”
America’s legal system, used properly, can produce marvelous
results. But when used improperly by those more interested in cash
equities than social inequities, it becomes an impediment to real
progress. Look no further than Putnam County, who may one day be
looking at a life without local doctors or local emergency
care.
Such is the future of America if, left unchecked,
“jackpot”-driven trial lawyers are free to treat hospitals as their
latest slot machine.
