In the 1952 Florida Senate race, George Smathers campaigned against incumbent Claude Pepper in the democratic primary, using this characterization attributed by journalists of the day as key to his win:
"Are you aware that the candidate is known all over Washington as a shameless extrovert? Not only that, but this man is reliably reported to have practiced nepotism with his sister-in-law... He matriculated with co-eds at the University, and it is an established fact that before his marriage he habitually practiced celibacy."
Words are powerful. Most of the time, they're used innocently and with purposeful intent; sometimes they're used to avoid discussion or reinforce unfortunate stereotypes.
These days, there's unprecedented attention to health reform. As in religion and politics, health care is deeply personal and opinions strongly held. As we enter the 2012 election cycle, rhetoric about health care will amp up. Often, a general conversation about health care is shortcut by the use of loaded terms that evoke visceral reaction:
"Rationing", "cookbook medicine", "government takeover", death panels", "entitlements", and others: the lexicon of loaded health care terms is thick.
I wonder… if "managed care" is spoken, do audiences imagine its antonym "un-managed care"? I wonder… when "evidence-based medicine" is pronounced, is "opinion-based medicine" juxtaposed? I wonder when we use "personalized medicine", if "impersonalized medicine" is imagined, and so on.
Everyone's inclined to use loaded words. They're easier to use than to explain. But as Campaign 2012 unfolds, and arguments for and against health reform become more frequent, perhaps a rule of thumb for those of us in the industry should be avoidance of the use of loaded terms and patience in explaining ideas with those we serve and seek to influence.
Smathers won the primary and the Senate seat, serving three terms in the Senate until 1969. Pepper served in the Senate from 1936 until his defeat in 1951, then served the Miami area as its member of Congress from 1963 until his death at 89 in 1989. The 1952 race is epic as much for its rhetoric as its result.
Loaded words matter. In health care, loaded words can divide or confuse, facilitate discussion or end debate, encourage understanding and study, or reinforce bias and misinformation.
They should be used cautiously on all sides of the health reform debate so that issues are addressed objectively and solutions discussed with a goal of doing what is right. It's too important to do otherwise.
Paul Keckley, PhD, is executive director, Deloitte Center for Health Solutions (DCHS). This column is an excerpt of the DCHS weekly Healthcare Reform Memo.