On The Cheap

It looks great on a healthy model

Since when did cheaper become better? It seems there was a time, certainly within my lifetime, when a manufacturer or retailer was proud of the quality and substance of the product offered. By contrast, today a manufacturer is admired for the profit they generate reflected in cost per unit.

Every time I see a patient come to the office after receiving a sling from the hospital I'm just a bit disgusted. First, your insurance company probably doesn't pay for a sling. The sling is just part of the deal, a package deal. Second, since it's part of the package price, the item you get is designed to kind-of-do-the-job while costing as little as possible at manufacture and subsequently at retail. That's how I come to see 78 year old women with broken shoulders who show up in these slings that are as flimsy as  a paper towel, fit with narrow unpadded cloth straps that are entirely ill-fitting, uncomfortable, cutting into their necks, and damn near impossible to adjust. ("One size." Who's piece of brilliant insight was "one size fits all.")

At the local grocery stores-- at least in this town-- a similar thing is happening. Years ago store-brand goods were offered as an economical alternative to the name brand product. Now I have trouble finding the name brand goods in many categories. Instead, everything from cereal to canned goods to tissue is store-brand. I think the trend started a couple of years back with the downturn in the economy. Now, I'm fairly well convinced, the move has flourished because offering store-brand cornflakes generates a lot more profit than, say, Kellogg's-- which, as we all know, is the real deal when it comes to cornflakes.

It seems we have come to hold profits in such high regard that we are beginning to put quality in the back seat. Going forward, I only hope it won't be a nightmare as hospitals continue the impossible struggle between cutting costs as required while simultaneously demonstrating increased quality and patient satisfaction. When it comes to offering compassionate patient-centered care that math just doesn't work out. As for cereal: I'll just keep making my own granola.