A
mom sits in an Emergency Room cradling her little girl, who's bawling
and feverish with a mysterious sudden ailment.
Unless Stuart Levine is the name of the doctor who can cure her
baby, she likely doesn't care a whit who Levine is. Neither does
the elderly stroke victim, the heart attack patient, the man who
fell off a ladder, the teenager in the car crash.
But when the medical bills arrive, they may feel the impact of
what Levine and his cronies are said to have done.
The political money man and powerbroker from Highland Park, brought
up on federal charges last week, is accused of manipulating the
decisions of an obscure state panel that regulates hospital and
health facility construction.
Levine did this, the U.S. attorney alleges, to secure kickbacks
from hospitals to line his friends' pockets with millions of dollars.
The public paid little attention to the workings of the Illinois
Health Facilities Planning Board — until recently, when plans for
the first new hospital construction projects in more than two decades
were hotly debated before the board.
Then this scandal came to light.
So why should anyone else take special notice of this rich, politically
connected guy accused of corruption, particularly Illinois' health
care consumers?
Because we may be paying for it.
When hospitals spend, you pay
From its unwieldy name to its complicated formulas, the Illinois
Health Facilities Planning Board does not inspire much curiosity
in the average Illinoisan.
This board oversees a process that prohibits hospitals, dialysis
centers and doctors' offices from building new facilities unless
they prove a need for them. Although some in the health-care industry
disagree with this procedure — called Certificate of Need — its
ultimate goal is to lower costs for everyone.
Federal prosecutors maintain Levine used his position on the board
to enrich himself.
He threatened to use his power to force a Naperville hospital
to steer $113 million in contracts to a friend, according to the
28-count indictment, and he siphoned millions of dollars out of
other hospital and medical school construction projects as part
of a scheme to obtain $9.5 million for himself and associates.
When money is wasted — either on needless new facilities, unnecessary
consulting fees, bribes or kickbacks — the cost ultimately draws
money from the pockets of consumers, according to Jim Unland, an
analyst and expert on Illinois' health care industry.
"Hospitals get their money from being reimbursed (by insurance,
government or patients). And if ... they're spending money either
illegally or improperly, then that has the result of raising costs,"
Unland said.
If you think the rising price of gas is pinching your pocketbook,
consider medical care.
Gasoline in the Chicago area cost 1.5 times more in 2004 than
in 1994, per the consumer price index. In the same period, the price
index for medical care started out more than twice as high as that
of gas — and rose more dramatically, according to the U.S. Department
of Labor.
Nationally, the cost of providing health-care benefits to employees
has shot up 66 percent in the past decade, according to the Labor
Department.
Even people with good health insurance, who don't have to worry
about the cost of individual medical procedures, feel the yearly
rise in insurance premiums. Often, the hikes cancel out their salary
increases.
Looking into past hospital deals
When hospital companies come before the planning board, they make
elaborate presentations, taking into account existing facilities,
scope of services, population growth and financial projections.
Finding people who know enough about the health-care industry
to make informed decisions is difficult, said David Morrison, deputy
director of Illinois Campaign for Political Reform, a government
watchdog group.
"These are fairly complicated decisions. You can't have just anyone
saying, 'Let's put the hospital in this city and not that one,'
" Morrison said.
Often, government must rely on "insiders."
Levine — a lawyer, lobbyist and investor in the health care industry
— was an insider's insider.
Founder and original shareholder of HMO America until it merged
with another company in a $400 million deal, he was appointed to
the board in 1996 by George Ryan. He was reappointed when Rod Blagojevich
became governor. A hob-nobber among the state's political elite,
he's made $1.6 million in campaign contributions.
"Government agencies want people with private sector experience
who know the field and know how it works," Morrison said. "The problem
is when you get individuals who seek to abuse that for their own
profit. The allegations are that Stuart Levine did just that."
Morrison said it would help if the public paid more attention
to obscure state boards, but having "good people" serving in government
is key.
"The press is great and sunshine a wonderful disinfectant, but
there's no better way to have good government than to have good
public officials," he said.
Randall Samborn, spokesman for the U.S. attorney's office, said
if Levine is convicted he must pay back the money he is charged
with siphoning from North Chicago's Chicago Medical School and its
foundation — pegged at $6 million.
Samborn said the kickbacks from the hospital project named in
the indictment hadn't been realized yet because construction of
a new hospital in northwest suburban Crystal Lake never started.
Mercy Health Systems' Crystal Lake project was halted by a judge
who ruled that its permit was issued as a result of "capricious"
decision-making.
Consequently, no money will be repaid to hospitals because of
this indictment, Samborn said, but the investigation hasn't ended.
Presumably, the government is looking at other projects considered
by the board.
New leader a stickler for ethics
The new Health Facilities Planning Board is headed by former congressman
Glenn Poshard. Unland said he is confident it harbors none of the
corruption alleged to have run rampant among the old board members.
Many of the paid staff of the Illinois Department of Public Health,
who review and rate the applications for new medical facilities,
are the same as under the old board.
Poshard has taken great pains, though, to uphold ethics regulations
and never to discuss board business outside of public meetings.
During deliberations for Advocate Health Care's Orland-Tinley
hospital proposal earlier this month, Poshard clearly explained
how the formulas guide board decisions. He also reminded colleagues
they were free to cast their own votes, even if contrary to his
own and against recommendations from the board's staff.
This contrasts with Levine's time on the board, where whispered
conversations preceded changed votes and the board often ignored
the staff reports about projects.
A long process
Peter Murphy, CEO of St. James Hospitals and Health Centers in Olympia
Fields and Chicago Heights, said the criminal investigation highlights
the purpose and importance of this often-ignored state board.
"As hospitals are proposed for Orland Park or Tinley Park, it's
not as simple as saying, 'I want a hospital five minutes away.'
"What does it do for other hospitals in other regions that are
close by but not as privileged economically? How does it impact
the overall system of care in the region? The board looks at all
that — not in a vacuum," Murphy said.
Murphy said many years pass between planning board approval and
project construction. For example, St. James Hospital in Olympia
Fields first applied for its large expansion project in 2000. It
will be completed early next year.
Although such an extended timeline, combined with complex health
care economics, make the issues difficult to follow for the average
consumer, Murphy said the board's decisions are critical for Southland
communities that rely on hospitals as economic engines and major
employers.
"In the American culture there's a desire for immediate gratification
and to have all things for all people with great ease," he said,
and that's not always possible without bankrupting hospitals that
serve many poor people and depend on a percentage of paying customers
to make up their losses.
"Certificate of Need helps to preserve that kind of balance,"
Murphy said.
Some not willing to 'play the game'
David Dranove, a Northwestern University professor, however,
believes this scandal proves the Certificate of Need process has
done more harm than good.
"The whole purpose of Certificate of Need is that market forces
could never get this right, and we had to leave it to 'regulators,'
" said Dranove, also a consultant on Edward Hospital's proposal
to build a hospital in Plainfield.
"One nice thing about market forces is ultimately you have to
provide something that's of value to succeed," he said. "With Certificate
of Need — the way it was allegedly working — market forces didn't
matter. You just had to know the right person and give them the
right amount of money."
Dranove said he thinks of all the communities, like Plainfield,
Orland and Tinley, denied a new hospital — perhaps because they
weren't willing to "play the game." Edward Hospital officials declined
to make payoffs and helped the FBI in its investigation of Levine
and the board.
Meanwhile, approval for a new hospital went to Crystal Lake because
Mercy Health Systems promised to do business with Levine's friends.
The consumers pay for this corruption, Dranove said.
"Ultimately of course it's our money," he said. "Whether it's
a hospital or other business, they get their money from what they
sell to us."