Was that trip necessary?

by David Grand
January 6, 2005

Normally, a special session is held only after a general agreement has been reached beforehand by the governor and legislative leaders on the issue at hand, with only dotting the "I's and crossing the T's" remaining to be done. But not so for the one called during the holiday week on malpractice insurance reform, which from the opening gavel quickly degenerated in to pure, unadulterated politics.      

As with the slots issue in the last two sessions, once again the irresistible force, the House Speaker, and the immovable object, the governor, were hopelessly at odds over the best way of making malpractice insurance more affordable for doctors. I guess I should be more sympathetic to their plight than I am. But I've never known a doctor who lived other than the good life, who drank cheap wine, drove an old clunker, or applied for food stamps.       

Of the three plans that were offered to deal with the skyrocketing insurance rates, a physician's lobbyist ranked 'em as follows: the governor's plan-which was killed in the first hour-got a medium grade on tort reform but is underfunded; the Senate's got a low grade on tort reform but is well well-financed; and the House plan received high marks on both scores. And as T. Michael Preston, executive director of MedChi, the state's medical society said, "The House tort reform bill was a good first step and would encourage doctors, much like a signal from the Federal Reserve moves the stock market."      

Why is it then, what with the fellas in the white coats being encouraged, if not fully satisfied, with the House version (which was approved by a three-fifths vote in both houses), it wasn't enacted and signed into law by the governor to cap off that hectic two-day session, and make the tongue lashing many legislators got from their wives upon returning home for having to alter their holiday plans a little more bearable?      

I'll give you two guesses and only the first one counts. It was the governor, who picked up his marbles and went back to his mansion to pout, after the House bill closed a loophole that's existed since the 1970s exempting HMOs from a 2 percent premium tax, the same as other insurers pay and which would put Maryland in line with the majority of states and Federal government that tax HMOs.       

And the more than $48 million in annual tax revenue that'd bring in would immediately lower the pending rate increase in malpractice insurance of 33 percent to 5 percent, and pay for an increased Medicaid reimbursement to high-risk specialists like obstetricians and emergency room doctors.      

Now, while Ehrlich supports the concept of a taxpayer-financed fund, he's stated loud and clear he'd veto the House bill in a heartbeat because of the 2 percent tax on HMOs that he calls a regressive tax, albeit he hasn't said how he'd pay for his plan and what budget cuts he'd make elsewhere for the necessary funding? But as one editorial writer said, if his biggest potential target is health care for the needy, that would make him "the anti-Robin Hood, taking from the poor to give to the rich."      

So, the way it looks now the governor won't compromise or bend in the slightest and will, true to his word, veto the House bill when it hits his desk; and even if there are enough votes to override his veto (that there appears to be), he can claim that he's holding the line on new taxes and portray himself as the victim of a conspiratorial legislature. That'd be an easy sell in the Western counties like Carroll   where it's believed he can do no wrong, and that the Democratically controlled legislature is solely responsible for all the problems that beset the state. Ain't blind partisanship wonderful?