Author Tim O’Reilly, in his 2006 commencement speech at UC Berkeley:
Money is like gasoline during a road trip. You don’t want to run out of gas on your trip, but you’re not doing a tour of gas stations.
Author Tim O’Reilly, in his 2006 commencement speech at UC Berkeley:
Money is like gasoline during a road trip. You don’t want to run out of gas on your trip, but you’re not doing a tour of gas stations.
The announcement of ChatGPT Health and then immediately Claude for Healthcare (just for “informational purposes,” of course) is big news, obviously. But the other big news from last week was Doctronic’s new pilot in Utah:
In a first for the U.S., Utah is letting artificial intelligence — not a doctor — renew certain medical prescriptions. No human involved.
The state has launched a pilot program with health-tech startup Doctronic that allows an AI system to handle routine prescription renewals for patients with chronic conditions
The program is limited to 190 commonly prescribed medications, so no pain or ADHD refills will be happening here. Some fighting words from the CEO:
“The AI is actually better than doctors at doing this,” said Dr. Adam Oskowitz, Doctronic co-founder and an associate professor of surgery at the University of California San Francisco. “When you go see a doctor, it’s not going to do all the checks that the AI is doing.”
In medicine, there’s always going to be potential issues that patients have,” said Oskowitz. “Whether it’s caused by the AI or not — we will take the risk. I think this is going to be infinitely safer than a human doctor.”
It’s worth pointing out that it’s much safer and easier for this product to practice medicine in the limited sense of renewing the previous decision of a human than it is to work de novo.
But the access problem is real, and 24/7 telehealth for a variety of urgent care-type problems is going to be a powerful argument in the near future, especially in rural areas.
The tools are improving, but the great irony is that clinical medicine has set the stage for this in two important ways.
The codification of guidelines and best practices means that large swaths of medicine are not just cognitively routine but are supposed to work within narrow variants. Picking from a few defensible (“correct”) options is easier than crafting the tasting menu from scratch.
When we want flesh-and-blood humans to utilize algorithms in the treatment of routine conditions, then a machine can utilize those same algorithms just as well—if not better per the evangelists—especially since a machine currently always has the opportunity to punt to a human if it’s confused. If there are hard stops in place for ethically fraught or problematic prescribing, then the most blatant jailbreaking concerns go down. It’s also worth pointing out that we already have online pill mills these days, no AI needed.
The product is going to punt whenever screener questions suggest medication intolerance or new meds in the reconciliation have interactions. Presumably, anything with nuance or that might require an alternative.
This is simply allowing a computer to refill a prescription that was already provided by a human for a medication taken by a human who still wants more. The algorithm can simply give the refill unless the patient tells it some contraindication has arisen in the intervening months that should change the picture, like a new medication interaction.
Another contributing factor is that healthcare is terrible, expensive, and hard to get. Patients wait for a long time and travel far and wide for short appointments that run behind schedule. It’s mostly not the fault of practitioners that they are overly busy, squeezing patients into tiny slots, but that’s the baseline reality. We are increasingly living in an era where access for routine clinical medicine is limited by cost. Those with the financial ability can opt for direct/concierge style care, and the rest are increasingly shuffled into a different tier, increasingly ministered by nonphysician practitioners operating autonomously.
Regardless of the details, it’s easier to replace something that isn’t good.
And let’s be clear with this initial salvo in the doctor-replacement process: this is not an LLM providing comprehensive care—doing an H&P or a new-patient evaluation and deciding how best to treat someone’s hypertension. That is a heavier lift and one prone to a hell of a lot more liability.
This is a machine taking some low-hanging fruit.
One downstream problem of this approach is that quick med refill visits are some of the ways that a clinic actually makes money, and that facetime can still lead to important, unpredictable, impromtu care. Because so much clinical care is underpaid, you need some easy, straightforward work to keep from falling too far behind in a busy clinic schedule.
Patients disappearing from the clinic rolls, getting refills for a few years, and then coming back when they have a problem will be a challenge.
You could argue a human should be in the loop. But I think the reality of automation bias is that this is a difficult argument. A human being reviewing tons and tons of these types of AI decisions probably isn’t actually going to pay enough attention to catch errors at a meaningful frequency. One could reasonably debate how often these mistakes are currently caught during 15-minute med checks. But in many cases, in many systems, many, many refill requests populate in the EHR and just require a button press anyway.
A patient doesn’t always have to come in for an appointment just to check a box and get a refill at baseline, but on the whole a pilot like this will result in fewer upfront visits, shorten turnaround time, save time, money, and physician computer clicks. Some of the negative consequences will be anecdotes, and the real second-order effects will probably be missed. By taking on the minimal liability for doing this work, the AI company can charge for what amounts to MyChart messages.
People often talk about liability as if only human beings, doing the work of humans, could ever be insured. But that is obviously, manifestly untrue. Many of our current consumer insurance products (e.g. home insurance) are designed to deal with a variety of bad outcomes, not just bad human causes.
If an insurance company does the math and wants to underwrite a venture, it can. If a large company is willing to pay its own damages, it can self-insure.
What makes something worth doing is a risk-benefit ratio where, if the profits are high enough to counteract the risks and still generate a return, it’s something pursuable in our current system.
If regulators don’t mind, a company or even a health system could choose to implement any variety of these products and self-insure, even without an overhaul of our whole medical-legal system.
There is no doubt that some parts of telehealth are, frankly, inadequate for care today. We also won’t really get to the next level of the AI version without a robust multimodal approach that actually incorporates computer vision to look at a patient and see how they’re doing, auditory analysis for tone and voice changes, and real-time conversational language analysis.
This product can skip all that. It’s not providing human-level care. It’s acknowledging the reality that a lot of medicine is routine with a low bar.
In radiology, for example, people have previously argued that we would have machines read the normal cases autonomously and involve human radiologists to check the abnormal ones. If this were plausible, it would mean that the average complexity per case goes up, and the actual work per case gets harder.
It may make sense in some cases, but operating at the top of your license, so to speak, can also be exhausting.
It remains to be seen if there is a feasible way for any field of practice to do this in a sustainable way, even if it might be an economically viable one.
From Developmental Editing by Scott Norton:
Few pleasures are as great as the taste of a fresh idea. A new insight melts in the brain like chocolate on the tongue. Whether the insight is unprecedented in human history or news only to yourself doesn’t matter; the first time a thought occurs is always magic.
That magic is so fickle, perishable. I always find the strong desire to capture as much of it as possible, and the more I can horde upfront the better chance I have of making it to the finish line of anything.
A paraphrased reader question:
I want to be a daytime tele neurorad. Why do so many of the listings seem to be for body? Are there too many neurorads?
I don’t think it’s really that there are too many neuroradiologists per se. It’s that the true need across the widest variety of practice types is general radiology.
If body imagers only read specialized body MRI, they wouldn’t be filling the holes that we have as a field. The greatest need is for plain films, ultrasound, and generic CT.
That is generally part of the job for body imagers, but many neurorads (and other subspecialties as well) really want to read more within their subspecialty, leaving a pile of general radiology for which groups are desperate enough to bring on remote readers.
In reality, there is nothing about a thyroid ultrasound that should make it a “body” examination and not a neuro one, given that the thyroid gland is in the neck. But this is the way everyone practices.
As a result, if a group hires more neurorads to support general needs without needing a full neuro FTE, that dilutes the available neuro work and requires the neurorads to start reading more general radiology. They, generally, don’t want to do that. And in practices where neurorads are 100% or nearly fully subspecialized, they don’t have the ability to overflow into another subspecialty easily.
Staffing in body typically doesn’t really work that way: smaller changes to their casemix aren’t going to result in a super different job or fundamentally change the spectrum of cases they interpret. No new skills needed.
And therefore, body is the greatest need. Not because there are an infinite number of liver MRIs to read (though there are a lot), but rather because we need people who are willing to do basic radiology work. And many body radiologists are expected to do that.
At least that’s my impression of the current state.
There is daytime tele neuro work out there, but I agree it’s mostly if you’re also willing to also read general too.
From Michael Porter’s Competitive Strategy:
We usually think of suppliers as other firms, but labor must be recognized as a supplier as well, and one that exerts great power in many industries. There is substantial empirical evidence that scarce, highly skilled employees and/or tightly unionized labor can bargain away a significant fraction of potential profits in an industry.
This is one of the core tensions in modern healthcare. Healthcare workers are the key source of revenue, but—because they want to be paid pesky competitive wages—also erode the potential profits of their employers, and many of those companies (regardless of their technical nonprofit vs profit status) really, really want more profit.
Private practice is not a panacea, but as most healthcare workers are not unionized, plausible alternatives to large entity employment are critical to enable workers to bargain for fair compensation. I suspect this is an increasing tension we should continue to expect with the greater use of AI. Employed physicians should desperately want their private practice colleagues to succeed.
From Porter’s follow-up, Redefining Health Care: Creating Value-based Competition on Results:
The fundamental problem in the U.S. health care system is that the structure of health care delivery is broken. This is what all the data about rising costs and alarming quality are telling us. And the structure of health care delivery is broken because competition is broken. All of the well-intended reform movements have failed because they did not address the underlying nature of competition.
Things have gotten so, so much worse since that was published in 2006.
Kevin Kelly, adding 101 new bits to his growing collection of pithy advice. A few of my favorites:
From a highly enjoyable “So you wanna de-bog yourself” (about getting “unstuck”) by Adam Mastroianni:
“Declining the dragon” – a medieval knight metaphor for getting unstuck: Sometimes I’ll know exactly what I need to do in order to leave the bog, but I’m too afraid to do it. I’m afraid to tell the truth, or make someone mad, or take a risk. And so I dither, hoping that the future will not require me to be brave.
Everybody thinks this is a bad strategy because it merely prolongs my suffering, but that’s not why it’s a dumb thing to do. Yes, every moment I dither is a moment I suffer. But when I finally do the brave thing, that’s not the climax of my suffering—that moment is the opposite of suffering. Being brave feels good. I mean, have you ever stood up to a bully, or conquered stage fright, or finally stopped being embarrassed about what you love? It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world. Whenever you chicken out, you don’t just feel the pain of cowardice; you miss out on the pleasure of courage.
Medieval knights used to wander around hoping for honorable adventures to pop up so that they could demonstrate their bravery. They were desperate for big, scary dragons to appear. When I put off doing the brave thing, I am declining the dragon: missing an opportunity to do something that might be scary in the moment but would ultimately make me feel great.
The whole post makes for great early January reading.
The first few months of radiology residency can be pretty bewildering. It’s rare in adult life to start from scratch quite as much as you do the summer you transition from internship. Even if you did some studying during internship or you were fortunate enough to have electives in radiology during your intern year, there is a steep learning curve in July, and no one’s foundation in radiology is typically all that strong in terms of actual working ability.
Even though you’ve been looking at things and talking your whole life, it isn’t the same thing as looking at medical imaging and dictating reports. And so the first few months are dedicated to learning the core skills of a radiology foundation: getting comfortable, learning the hospital and the EMR, understanding the radiologist’s roles in the clinical workflow, and putting up some serious imaging reps.
Junior residents will typically take some variety of call after a year, and—even if you don’t have independent call—I know that’s a big step. As your spirit attending, I do want you to continue seeing as many cases as you can and studying outside of work to make sure that you are rounding out your radiology knowledge to build on the things you’ve seen in real life and fill in the gaps for the things that you haven’t. The List Gods do not provide you with everything you need, and the Venn diagram circles of radiology experience and radiology testable knowledge from books/questions/videos/etc do not have perfect overlap.
The spring semester of the R1 year is a great chance to work on the deliberate practice of radiology. There is an iterative loop of interpreting radiology cases that we perform over and over again, and I find that most trainees struggle with certain parts more than others.
I view the five-point interpretative loop as follows:
1. Attend
Bring your complete focus to every new case, because every case is a new patient who deserves your full attention and your best work.
2. Observe
Review the images to make the observations/findings. This involves scrutinizing everything, of course, but also involves practicing avoiding certain pitfalls, like missing findings at the top and bottom images or at the edge of the field of view, falling prey to satisfaction of search, and forgetting to do a targeted review of specific imaging areas to exclude relevant pathologies, second order findings, and seek pertinent negatives (the true search pattern).
3. Decide
Make the decision/diagnosis. This includes deciding if an observation is real or artifactual as well as settling on the differential or significance of a finding. Practice deciding to the best of your ability without perseverating on findings by endlessly scrolling back and forth or agonizing. Practice making a targeted review on the internet to help categorize a finding without getting too deep down the rabbit hole, and be willing to phone a friend or an attending to get an outsider’s more experienced perspective when you need it. Cultivating independence is critical, yes, but we can also get more reps and do more work if we don’t get too bogged down. Try to do it alone when you can, but don’t get trapped in your own head.
4. Describe
Dictate the report with the goal of an organized and concise but thorough findings section as well as a clear, actionable impression. I personally subscribe to the “the more you write, the less they read” perspective, but everything is truly a balance, and the goal is not for you to emulate any specific style but rather to figure out how you want to practice and how to do your best work.
5. Polish
Proofread and hone that report until it is as good as you can make it. I argue that sloppiness never stops at transcription errors or other seemingly less important things; it percolates and permeates. It’s important to practice doing your best work, and that may mean adjusting how you work so that you make great reports routinely.
Within the spectrum of giving each case your full attention, you need to set yourself up for success, and that means not cutting corners. That includes reviewing the history and utilizing relevant priors. Yes, it takes some more time upfront, but it also guides your search pattern and informs your decision-making. It is critical to the practice of radiology. And you will make so many fewer mistakes if you get into the practice of doing this consistently.
You would probably severely underestimate how many times I have seen people be wrong in their conclusion or agonize over a decision that didn’t even have to be made because they failed to look in the chart for relevant history, to look at prior scans and prior reports in your system, or even to see if there were prior radiology reports hiding in Epic available in Care Everywhere. There are countless age-indeterminate or nonspecific findings—including those that generate useless follow-up imaging and unnecessary admissions—that, with some scrutiny, are chronic or stable for years. You’re never going to bat a thousand on this kind of stuff, but you might as well try.
Additionally, those prior reports are often your greatest teacher. So please do not waste these opportunities.
Additionally, I strongly recommend that when reading follow-up scans, you take a moment to look at the presentation scan. In many cases, that initial scan when that stroke is less obvious or the pre-operative scan before a lesion is resected gives you the most valuable visual exposure instead of just monitoring a mostly stable ball of blood or resection cavity. Don’t rob yourself of the opportunity to see the full spectrum of radiology/pathology, and try to find things and see how they look and really evolve over time. These are an important part of your learning, so don’t waste them.
It is very reasonable to review your case first before looking at the priors and their reports so as to give yourself the opportunity to approach each case de novo. This is admirable if time-consuming, but don’t take the desire to bring fresh eyes to each experience as an excuse to cut corners and not review the priors.
It’s your job, with the help of your attendings, to figure out:
It’s worth pointing out that the things you don’t like doing are often the things that you struggle with. There is a saying that practice makes permanent, so it’s important not to just try to get through the day but to really focus on these steps to build your skills and work on your tired moves:
If you don’t do things the thoughtful way on a regular day with no pressure, then you’re never going to do them well when you’re tired and under pressure. So we need to work on doing things the “right” (read: consistently improving) way every time, over and over again during the regular workday, to build up the muscles of doing radiology a better way.
And, those things we don’t enjoy aren’t as fixed as you might think if you’re able to cultivate a craftsman’s mentality.
There may be no universal right way to practice radiology, but there are definitely some wrong ones.
About working as a hospital employee, from “The Young Physician Trap: Trading Autonomy for Salary” in Claim Denied:
And then comes the pay cut. It’s framed as “efficiency.” Or “underperformance.” The implication is clear: you’re the problem.
By now, the hospital knows they have you.
You bought a home. You structured your life around the salary they dangled. Maybe you counted on loan forgiveness. There might be a non-compete at play. Maybe your spouse’s career is tied to the area. Leaving suddenly isn’t easy.
In 2025, I shared something like 90 regular posts and 30 asides (clearly, I have not fully embraced the microblog component of the site I added during the 2023 redesign). The total wordcount of all that writing is a bit over 70,000 words (closer to 55,000 excluding blockquotes). So I wrote a book this year. Kinda. Well, it’s something at least.
I also have 65 articles drafted, some of which will definitely never generate photons on any of your devices, but many of which just need polishing and will appear here in 2026. As a reminder, all regular posts find their way to the archive list, and the asides are collected here. Happy New Year!