Dr. (sic) Donald Berwick, our new CMS [Centers for Medicare & Medicaid] head has summed up his view of rationing, and “his contempt for the intelligence of patients as follows:” www.spectator.org
“I cannot believe that the individual health care consumer can enforce through choice the proper configurations of a system as massive and complex as health care. That is for leaders to do.” Thus spoke Berwick unto the king’s subjects. “Worry not, peasants, the king is gracious.” Yah.
Though I’m not trying to configure the health care system, I’m just trying to get an antibiotic or something.
Further from the American Spectator: “And yet the media consistently portray Berwick as an advocate of patient-centered care. The New York Times ran a piece last month titled “Letting the Patient Call the Shots,” which credits Berwick with advocating a health system that would “transfer control from doctors to the patients themselves.”
Which, humbly I do submit, makes the media lying hussies. And it’s now well established that not one major TV network, newspaper, or news magazine covered the “recess” appointment of Berwick. Not a one pointed out that Congress was denied its Constitutional role as advisor and overseer of the presidential plantation. But hell, even Congress barely burped at the usurpation of their power we confered on it. They didn’t even bother to read the legislation as written, being too stupid or something, and thus letting the leaders write the unknown and unknowable laws which give Berwick any power at all. .
Yah. We’re too stupid or something. But then one wonders if Berwick thinks that we’re too stupid, or as he puts it “I cannot believe” … the “consumer can enforce through choice” … “a system as … complex,” as our telephones, airplanes, gasoline, computers, buildings, housing, food service, farming, greeting cards, education, dance schools, jeans makers and cobblers and stevedores, too, and on and on through the economic landscape. After all, getting a plane from a pile of parts to taking me from New Orleans to New York is complex. So too is the levee system protecting one and the subway system which girds the other. So too is getting globs of black goo into liquid power for my car. So too is getting bits of silica under my fingertips of the laptop I write on. How do they make shampoo, I mean, really? Life is filled with complex systems.
Most of which none of us have any earthly idea how they work. Who cares? I mean, really, it’s completely unimportant to me how copper miners extract the ore and process it into telephone wires. Or iron mines to subway rails. I still really don’t understand the internal combustion engine, but I know they go vroom when I put my peddle to the metal. I can’t grasp abbotoirs which slaughter the chickens I’m going to eat this evening.
So too it’s unimportant to me how the hospital operates, and what machines it buys or its personnel policies. It’s complex, true, but I don’t need to know those things to ask my doctor about the pain I may have, or the rash seen.
But I know what I need to know. Where the on switch is for the laptop, and how to navigate around Windows. And I know how to put gas and oil into my car. And I know too how to cook up a mean chicken dish from many a culture. I even know where my doctor’s office is, and the drug store for the presriptions to be filled. So what if I don’t understand the inner workings of the “complex systems” which bring the end product to me?
Frankly, I don’t understand how Congress works either, and I’m none too good as a lawyer either. In fact, I understand very little of the complexity which abounds in the modern world; but I do understand the simplicity which these things have brought to my life, and I know how to use them. And I make choices about all these things.
And if We the People are too stupid, or “cannot” understand such complex systems does this mean that our “leaders” have to control each and every aspect of these other things? That’s surely the import and impact of Berwick’s statement. That Ivy College educated poobahs, Marxists all, who probably don’t understand the complexity anymore than I do, can therefore decide which of these portions of complexity I may or may not access is nothing short of shamanism.
Like ancient priests in stone temples with incense burning, he will devine what my interaction with the complex system will be. He’s nothing short of a shaman telling me I don’t understand the workings of the world, but he’ll make it right by casting the right victim into the volcano. Even if it’s me. Though I suppose the “good doctor” will say, like all such power mad shamans: “It’s good for society.”
For rationing, which Berwick supports wholeheartedly, must lead to sacrificing human life. His ilk already sacrifice babies at an alarming rate in abortion mills for the good of society. Oh, they won’t call it that, but that’s what it is. It won’t be on the top steps of some pyramid of Mesoamerica, but that’s what will happen. They’ll hide behind bureaucratic words which are part of the complex system of government control, which I suppose, since I’m too stupid for one complex system I’m too stupid for all off them, so why bother to have elections to muck things up? Why not just have the complex system spit forth the most ruthless power player to be our leader? Like all Marxists want. Like ancient sons of kings fought over the succession. Even leader should be underline now too, to show how important those leaders are to us, We the People. We want no leader, however, though they want to give us one anyway.
That’s what Berwick wants, complete control of humankind, with God like ability to decide whether you live or die, and how much torture you get in between the decision made and the demise. That’s why he’s not a doctor anymore than a guy with a bone through his nose is a doctor when he casts sheep entrails to devine when I should or should not do something. This man Berwick is an anachronism, a throw back to primitive societies of unknowing and cowed peasants, assembled below the god-like king who will decide whether I or you must be sacrificed so that society might live. Not much different than in ancient primitive cultures where serving up victims to slaughter by the priests will ensure that the crops won’t fail next year. For those crops are like our federal budget. It’s sacrosant, and must be protected, and the budget gods must be appeased with blood so that it might continue next year too.
What a fine fellow, otherwise, I’m sure. Maybe. Though he does seem to be an awful lot alike the leader in that short story entitled “The Lottery,” whose author I can’t remember at the moment, who directed the picking up of stones to cast at the one chosen to be sacrificed for the good of society.
Thanks Berwick, you made my day. Now I only hope I make it till the morn under your expert eyes.
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