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Regulation and the prevention agenda

Laws should scaffold food and alcohol industry self-regulation to improve unhealthy environments and prevent disease

Australians face crippling rates of chronic disease. The main culprits are behavioural risk factors that reflect unhealthy lifestyles: record levels of obesity, misuse of alcohol, tobacco use and too much salt, fat and sugar in our diets. Healthier and longer lives are possible, but new ways of influencing consumer choices are required. While educational strategies are important for individuals, they rarely succeed as population-wide interventions. Often, the problem is not lack of knowledge but difficulty in translating knowledge into action in unhealthy environments. Regulation and legislation play an important role in shaping healthier choices, but every gain for public health runs up against reflexive beliefs about individual responsibility and the “nanny state”.

Unhealthy lifestyles earn vast revenues for Big Tobacco, Big Alcohol and Big Food. The latter two industries have cleverly populated the policy space with weak, self-regulatory initiatives that are surprisingly complex yet designed for easy compliance. By failing to cover the placement of alcohol advertisements, for example, the Alcohol Beverages Advertising (and Packaging) Code permitted a website that targets children to advertise alcoholic drinks.1 The food industry’s initiatives on responsible advertising contain so many escape clauses that they surely represent a new kind of Swiss cheese.2 Australian parents have learned that they only deserve to have healthy children if they can withstand the pervasive influence of junk-food advertising. But unhealthy industries have not had it all their own way. Big Tobacco was decisively beaten over plain tobacco packaging; and the federal Minister for Health recently announced a front-of-pack food-labelling system that facilitates healthier choices by evaluating the nutritional quality of food.3

Where to from here, in the grand, intergenerational challenge of disease prevention? The report of the National Preventative Health Taskforce offers a goldmine of policy options, many of which are yet to be acted on.4 Prescriptive “command and control”-style laws remain necessary in some areas.5 Government leadership is needed in restricting the sale of tobacco over the internet, abolishing all duty-free allowances for tobacco and requiring health warnings and energy labelling on alcoholic beverages. The alcohol control agenda could be pushed along further by setting a minimum price per standard drink to discourage discounting.

In other areas, we need new solutions in the battle between business-as-usual and statutory controls. Governments can make progress through more subtle and incremental changes, including “legislative scaffolds” to strengthen the performance and credibility of industry-led initiatives. These include:

  • Setting official goals, targets and indicators for progress. Governments need to commit to bold goals and to clearly communicate the contributions that business is expected to make. For example, food industry self-regulation needs to significantly reduce children’s exposure to unhealthy food advertising. This is not happening at present.6

  • Closing off significant gaps in self-regulatory schemes. The principal vehicle for improving diet through food reformulation, the Food and Health Dialogue, currently covers only eight food categories compared with the 80 found in the United Kingdom equivalent.7,8 Regulation needs to restrict the placement of alcohol advertising in media with large youth audiences and to reduce alcohol industry sports sponsorship.

  • Improving the accountability of self-regulatory regimes. Industry codes should be administered independently and closely monitored by government, with public disclosure of industry performance. The credibility of food advertising codes is seriously damaged by letting a trade association administer the schemes, and by letting food companies devise their own nutrition standards as the basis for deciding what products can be advertised to children.

In many areas, including food and alcohol, self-regulatory codes are de-facto regulations intended to forestall more intrusive government action. Where independent monitoring indicates that voluntary initiatives are failing, industry must be left in no doubt that the government will escalate its involvement by introducing regulatory interventions that truly serve public health objectives.

Interpreting the Coroners Act at the bedside: how do junior doctors know they are doing it correctly?

To the Editor: Interpreting coronial legislation can prove challenging for junior doctors at
the bedside, with significant local variation in interpretation.1 The Victorian Coroners Act (Coroners Act 2008 [Vic]) has recently undergone changes that have coincided with a decline in numbers of reported cases,2 with the Coroners Court raising the question of whether there was “unintentional under-reporting of reportable deaths”.2 What constitutes a reportable death under that Act is summarised in the Box.

Austin Health has a well established medicolegal support for junior doctors (formal education sessions, internal website and medical administration advice available 24 hours a day). However, it was unclear whether there was a failure to report reportable deaths, leading to unintentional underreporting of deaths to the Coroner.

Austin Health was involved in 82 coroners’ cases in 2011, of which 68 were reported directly by Austin Health. In addition to our usual clinical review of all reported coroners’ cases, the 14 cases that were externally referred (including from Births, Deaths and Marriages Victoria) were specifically analysed for any reasons that may have contributed
to unintentional underreporting.

Cases were reviewed by the Clinical Risk Registrar (P V). A variety of specialty units were involved, with
a variety of causes of death. Documented Coroners Court discussions were noted in two
of the 14 cases.

Unintentional underreporting had occurred in all 14 cases, which were reportable by the criteria below.

  • Under the “accident or injury” definition:

    • falls (seven deaths);

    • spinal cord injury from motor vehicle accidents, although death occurred many years afterwards (two deaths);

    • conditions that may arise from trauma, even if no traumatic event is documented (two deaths associated with subdural haemorrhage).

  • Under the “unexpected, unnatural causes” definition:

    • medication overdoses, even if a result of pre-existing renal impairment (one death, associated with opioid overdose);

    • causes of death with less than 24 hours between onset and death (one death from cardiogenic shock, and one from acute pulmonary oedema).

Austin Health has integrated these findings into the organisation’s standardised mortality tool, within junior doctor education programs, and in individual feedback to internal units and feedback provided to the Victorian Coroner.

This audit is an example of a brief, practical method for doctors and hospitals to confirm that coronial interpretation at the beside is occurring as intended, and is adaptable to other health services, general practices or health centres within Victoria or other states under the governance of coronial reporting frameworks.

Reportable deaths as outlined in the Coroners Act 2008 (Vic)*

A death is considered reportable if:

  • the body is in Victoria; or

  • the death occurred in Victoria; or

  • the cause of the death occurred in Victoria; or

  • the person ordinarily resided in Victoria at the time of death;

And:

  • the death appears to have been unexpected, unnatural or violent or to have resulted, directly or indirectly, from an accident or injury; or

  • the death occurred during a medical procedure; or following a medical procedure where the death is or may be causally related to the medical procedure and a registered medical practitioner would not, immediately before the procedure was undertaken, have reasonably expected the death to occur; or

  • the death is of a person who immediately before the death was a person placed in “custody or care”; or

  • the death is of a person who immediately before death was a patient under the Mental Health Act 1986
    (Vic); or

  • the death is of a person under the control, care or custody of the Secretary to the Department of Justice or a member of the police force; or

  • the death is of a person who is subject to a non-custodial supervision order under section 26 of the Crimes (Mental Impairment and Unfitness to be Tried) Act 1997 (Vic); or

  • the identity of the person is unknown; or

  • the death occurs in Victoria and a medical practitioner has not signed and is not likely to sign a death certificate certifying the cause of death; or

  • the death occurs outside Victoria and the cause of death is not certified by a person authorised to certify that death and the cause of death is not likely to be certified; or

  • the death is of a prescribed class of persons that occurs in prescribed circumstances.


* There will be minor differences in reportable deaths between states.

Involuntary treatment of drug and alcohol dependence in New South Wales: an old Act and a new direction

Will new legislation address the dilemmas raised by a century-old Act for involuntary treatment of addiction?

In September 2012, the Drug and Alcohol Treatment Act 2007 was adopted in New South Wales, to better manage people requiring involuntary treatment for substance dependence. The new Act formally replaced the outdated, century-old Inebriates Act 1912 (NSW). Here, we explain why the new legislation was needed and what advances in management it will enable.

The past 100 years

Involuntary treatment for alcohol dependence (see definitions in Box 1) was established in the 19th century in Australia, when state legislation “embodied the concept of alcoholism as a disease to be treated rather than a crime to be punished”.5 Confinement and rehabilitation (mental, physical and moral) were seen as necessary to cure alcoholism and drug addiction.6 This view led to the passage of the first Inebriates Act in NSW in 1900, which was amended in 1909 and consolidated in 1912.5,7

The Inebriates Act defined an “inebriate” as “a person who habitually uses intoxicating liquor or intoxicating or narcotic drugs to excess”. This definition potentially allowed for anyone with habitual substance use to be detained, if a magistrate agreed with the applicant and granted an order for control and treatment of the inebriate.

The 1912 Act was difficult to invoke because suitable applicants for orders for control and treatment of inebriates were often limited and difficult to coordinate. The Act stipulated that an applicant must be the alleged inebriate or a person he or she had authorised when sober; a member of the police of or above the rank of sergeant; or the spouse, a first-degree relative or a business partner of the inebriate.3 Where families remained involved, making an application for involuntary care often heightened existing conflict, acting as a deterrent to proceed.

In 1929, in the absence of purpose-built facilities for detaining and treating inebriates, the large psychiatric hospitals in NSW were gazetted as institutions for the reception and treatment of these patients as a “stop-gap measure”.7,8 Until recently, seven gazetted psychiatric hospitals in NSW provided the only public facilities authorised to act in this role for orders involving periods longer than 28 days. Much criticism was directed at the perceived infringement of human rights by allowing the detention of inebriates in facilities for severely mentally ill patients, without mandatory legal review of the order and without evidence of effectiveness. The treatment that was provided was considered ad hoc, with no systematic evaluation studies conducted to determine outcomes.2,5,8

Furthermore, gazetted hospitals had no control over admissions under the Inebriates Act, with no formal process for legal review and no power to discharge the patient. An existing order could only be amended or repealed by an application to re-hear the matter before the magistrate who made the initial order.

Catalyst for change

In 2003, the NSW Summit on Alcohol Abuse highlighted a fundamental ethical issue in relation to alcohol dependence, namely: “when the state can legitimately intervene to treat a person against their will, and conversely, whether a person has the right to drink themselves to death”.2

The withdrawal of basic human rights is often cited by clinicians who are reluctant to use involuntary treatment, viewing it as a violation of personal liberty and patient autonomy. Treatment is seen as only likely to be effective in individuals motivated to change, and addiction as a matter of individual choice.4,9,10

Reviews indicate that the evidence base to support involuntary treatment is limited. Studies are heterogeneous (in terms of substances used, referral methods, levels of coercion, treatment interventions and outcome measures), with small patient numbers, poorly equivalent comparison groups and short follow-up periods. Randomised controlled trials are ethically and practically difficult to conduct, and there have been only a few, with small sample sizes. Overall, the evidence for effectiveness is inadequate and inconclusive. But, for some people, short-term involuntary treatment may reduce harm, including substance use and criminal activity.1,3,1113

Coercive treatment — where an individual is given the choice of complying with treatment or receiving the “alternative consequences” (Box 1)4 — is better studied and less contentious. A review of the evidence for coercive treatment concluded that most research demonstrates efficacy and cost benefits, including reduced substance use and criminality, and improved health and employment.4 In contrast, another review argued that research has not clearly demonstrated long-term benefits of coercive treatment for the individual or the public, nor whether the benefits outweigh any negative consequences.14

For drug offenders, studies support the effectiveness of legally coerced treatment in the community, with those participating under “legal pressure” doing as well as those without.15 However, compulsory drug treatment in prison is highly contentious, lacks rigorous evidence for effectiveness and is often abstinence-based, while evidence-based treatments such as opioid maintenance are excluded. Voluntary treatment in prison can be effective for recidivist offenders, when effective treatment choices and post-release care are provided.15

For people with severe substance dependence, individual choice and patient autonomy may be compromised by the cognitive and neurobiological consequences of substance misuse, including negative impacts on frontal lobe functioning. These effects may interfere with insight, motivation, impulse control and, ultimately, the ability to provide informed consent to treatment.4,9,10,16

Following a recommendation from the 2003 NSW Summit on Alcohol Abuse, an inquiry into the Inebriates Act was conducted by the Standing Committee on Social Issues of the NSW Legislative Council. The resulting 2004 report concluded that “in the majority of cases [the Inebriates Act] is used for the purpose of managing difficult behaviour, that is, for social control”.2 Such “difficult behaviour” included repeated low-grade offending causing disturbance to the community, as well as behaviour “impacting seriously on the wellbeing or safety of family members”.

At the same time, it was also acknowledged that the Act was used because there were few alternative options, and that the interventions provided had sometimes benefited patients.2 In all, the report made 55 recommendations, including that the Inebriates Act be repealed and replaced with new legislation.2,7

The new Act — trialled and beyond

The Drug and Alcohol Treatment Act was drafted to replace the Inebriates Act and provides a very specific and detailed definition of who meets the criteria for involuntary treatment. Section 9 of the Act specifies that a “dependency certificate” allowing for involuntary treatment may be issued only if an accredited medical practitioner is satisfied that each of four conditions exist:

  • the person has a severe substance dependence (ie, the person has a tolerance to the substance, shows withdrawal symptoms when stopping or reducing use, and has lost the capacity to make decisions about his or her substance use and personal welfare due primarily to dependence on the substance), and

  • care, treatment or control of the person is necessary to protect the person from serious harm, and

  • the person is likely to benefit from treatment but has refused it, and

  • no other appropriate and less restrictive means for dealing with the person are reasonably available.

The accredited medical practitioner may also consider any potential for serious harm to children or other dependants of the person.

Once a dependency certificate is issued, the person may be detained for treatment under the Act. The Act allows for up to 28 days of initial treatment and up to 3 months of treatment for substance-related brain injury. As the person’s cognition improves, enhanced decision-making abilities may facilitate treatment engagement.2 The Act also provides a framework for regular legal reviews and allows accredited medical practitioners to discharge a patient when he or she no longer meets the criteria for involuntary treatment.

The NSW Government outlined a plan to trial the Drug and Alcohol Treatment Act in one area health service before repealing the Inebriates Act. Consequently, in February 2009, a new four-bed Involuntary Treatment Unit (ITU) was opened in the Drug and Alcohol Service at Nepean Hospital to trial the revised legislation. During the 18-month trial period, 35 patients were admitted to the ITU under the new legislation (Box 2), compared with a total of 28 admissions into gazetted units in NSW in 2009 under the Inebriates Act (David McGrath, Director, Mental Health and Drug and Alcohol Office, NSW Health, personal communication). From 1999 to 2009, a total of 195 patients were admitted to the seven gazetted units in NSW under the Inebriates Act, suggesting there may be a much greater demand for involuntary treatment than past experience has indicated.

In September 2012, following the trial, two ITUs commenced operation under the Drug and Alcohol Treatment Act in NSW — one rural (based at Bloomfield Hospital in Orange) and one urban (based at Royal North Shore Hospital in Sydney). Both units will accept patients referred from anywhere within NSW. Systematic evaluation of these two units will be important to determine their impact and effectiveness in both the short and longer term.

In conclusion

Where involuntary treatment is to occur in non-custodial environments, it is essential that loss of liberty be balanced by access to appropriate treatment.5 Compared with the Inebriates Act of 1912, the Drug and Alcohol Treatment Act of 2007 provides a more appropriate legal framework for the assessment, detention and review of patients in suitable treatment facilities in NSW. Treatment provided under this Act for people with severe substance dependence will need to focus on stabilisation, comprehensive assessment, provision of evidence-based care, and coordination of comprehensive aftercare.

1 Involuntary treatment, civil commitment and coercive treatment

Involuntary treatment refers to commitment to treatment where the individual (offender or non-offender) has no
choice.1 This includes treatment for substance dependence with a mandate based in legislation and/or government-implemented programs, such as court-mandated treatment
of offenders and the civil commitment of non-offenders.

Civil commitment is a process undertaken outside the criminal justice system and refers to the “legally sanctioned, involuntary commitment of a non-offender into treatment [for drug or alcohol dependence]”.2 In Australia, civil commitment legislation for substance dependence exists in New South Wales (Drug and Alcohol Treatment Act 2007), Victoria and Tasmania, while the Northern Territory has involuntary treatment orders for alcohol and volatile substance dependence. Sweden and New Zealand also have civil commitment legislation.3

Coercive treatment occurs when an individual “is given the choice to choose between an opportunity to comply with addiction treatment or receive the ‘alternative consequences’ prescribed by the enforcement of the law, policy, or agency” (eg, prison or probation, loss of child custody, loss of employment or benefits).4

2 Nepean Involuntary Treatment Unit activity during
18-month trial period from February 2009

  • 89 referrals from within the Western Sydney Area Health Service

  • 81 people assessed

  • 42 dependency certificates issued

  • 35 patients admitted

  • 42 discharges (five patients were admitted twice, and one patient three times)

Clinical software on personal mobile devices needs regulation

To the Editor: Fernando makes a valid statement on the need for regulation of clinical software on personal mobile devices (PMDs).1 Her timely comment regarding acting now before the “courts decide” is fair, given that many doctors, including a high percentage of specialist trainees, are now using PMDs.2 However, it is important for doctors to remember that the security risks highlighted by Fernando are not just limited to clinical software. Other intrinsic functions of PMDs — such as text messaging, and video and image capture and transfer — need careful consideration too. These tools are commonly used by doctors to convey information to one another and their use may involve storing potentially sensitive information.3

We acknowledge that text messaging and image capture provide valuable means of improving clinical handover and optimising the provision of medical advice, but warn that any transfer of information has the potential to breach patient–clinician confidentiality. This is especially true if the information is not de-identified. We are concerned about the ease with which this information can be accessed if a clinician misplaces their PMD.

Perhaps the best way to avoid any loss of sensitive information would be to regulate all use of PMDs in the workplace. Introducing policies that mirror business practice, by which professionals often have workplace mobile devices in addition to their PMDs for added security, may be effective. The functions, applications and content of these workplace mobile devices would be regulated, and would include security or locking software to avoid breach
of information if the devices were misplaced.

In any case, regulated or not,
we must ensure that our patients’ private information is protected. Security measures vary from being as simple as a four-digit passcode for unlocking the phone, to data encryption or remote storage of sensitive information.4 It is also possible to remotely wipe sensitive information from a PMD if it is lost, as long as it has been previously set up to allow this. As the use of PMDs becomes routine in the medical workplace, clinicians should be aware of how they can (and should) protect their patients’ information.4

Clinical software on personal mobile devices needs regulation

In reply: I appreciate the interest in my article.1 More comprehensive research work is currently underway to evaluate the application of personal mobile devices (PMDs) in the context of security risks posed by their intrinsic functions. The importance of such research findings is borne out by emerging discussions.14

Many platforms already offer security or locking software applications to avoid information breaches on PMDs, and nascent moves to develop applications that will facilitate configurations separating work data from other data have commenced. Articles that offer practical PMD support for clinicians have occasionally been published;3 however, preliminary analysis of the evidence suggests many physicians are generally unaware of these and other fragmented support resources.

The integrity of PMD usage in
the health care sector depends on government regulation dictating
the appropriate levels of security
in such products.4 Prevention of medicolegal and security concerns is required now rather than waiting for future management of the inevitable consequences of unregulated PMD applications.

Open disclosure: ethical, professional and legal obligations, and the way forward for regulation

Open disclosure (OD) is the process of “open discussion of incidents that result in harm to a patient while receiving health care”.1 OD requires doctors to inform patients that an adverse event has occurred. As additional information surrounding the event is gathered, the patient is notified of the probable long-term outcomes and informed of how the system is being modified to prevent recurrence.2,3 Thus, the formal process of OD involves the following elements:1

  • notification to a patient and/or his or her legal representative about what has occurred;

  • apology or expression of regret;

  • factual explanation of what happened;

  • indication of potential long-term outcomes for the patient; and

  • systemic changes being made to prevent recurrence.

OD should be implemented immediately after the recognition of an adverse event, long before detailed investigations of what happened may be carried out.1 During a national meeting in 2008, Australian health ministers resolved to implement OD in health care settings throughout Australia. Despite the existence of a national guideline, the national Open disclosure standard (henceforth “national standard”),1 doctors have been slow to embrace OD.2 This may be because of uncertainty about doctors’ legal and professional obligations in relation to OD, and concern about medicolegal risk.2 In this article, we clarify the relevant legal and ethical obligations imposed on doctors, and make suggestions for specific reforms to improve the adoption of OD. We argue that OD after an adverse event should now be treated as ethically mandated, and that the law should impose clear statutory obligations and protections for OD that mirror the common law developments. Finally, we discuss some of the barriers to OD, with suggestions for how they can be overcome.

The professional underpinnings of OD

There is a strong ethical case for OD, which many see as a moral imperative.35 After extensive national consultation in 2002, the national standard was prepared. It is arguably the most important document on OD at the policy level in Australia. Each state and territory has incorporated the national standard into its own health and quality policies to varying degrees (Box 1). It has also been incorporated into the Medical Board of Australia’s publication Good medical practice: a code of conduct for doctors in Australia,6 and the guidelines of the code are recognised by each state’s Health Practitioner Regulation National Law Act as evidence of what constitutes appropriate professional conduct for doctors practising in Australia. Concerning the disclosure process, Good medical practice states:

When adverse events occur, you have a responsibility to be open and honest in your communication with your patient, to review what has occurred and to report appropriately.

Eight subclauses follow, which describe the steps to be taken in the OD process (Box 2). Further, OD is generally strongly supported by state bodies such as the New South Wales Clinical Excellence Commission, which explicitly includes OD as part of the feedback process after adverse events,7 and by complaints organisations, such as Queensland’s Health Quality and Complaints Commission (HQCC).8 HQCC data show that complainants’ most frequently desired outcome is an explanation or apology, and suggest that OD is not consistently performed well.8

Legal obligations for open disclosure

There is presently no statutory obligation for OD to patients after an adverse event. However, there is a line of common law authority which supports OD as either part of the duty of care or as an implied term in the contract for medical services.3,4,9

This duty resulting from common law was affirmed in Wighton v Arnot,10 where the treating surgeon suspected that his patient sustained a nerve injury during surgery. The court found that early disclosure, investigation and treatment would have greatly improved the patient’s prognosis. Further, timely disclosure may have facilitated repair of the damaged nerve, avoiding a suit in negligence. Studdert J stated, “The plaintiff had a right to know, and the defendant had a duty to inform her, that he had severed a nerve”.10

In addition to tort law, OD may be considered part of the implied contractual obligation to provide reasonable care to both public and private patients. In an English case, Naylor v Preston Area Health Authority, Donaldson, MR, stated that OD is a necessary component of the general duty of care that doctors and hospital authorities hold towards patients, and is founded in both contract and tort law.11

The problem of avoidance and the apology paradox

Despite compelling professional obligations and common law developments, Australian doctors have generally avoided OD.2 Australian and United States studies of doctors have identified that the main barriers to routine OD are fear of an increase in medicolegal risk and a lack of training in the OD process.2,1214

Other significant barriers cited include embarrassment at acknowledging an error, and uncertainty as to how much information should be disclosed. Prominent Australian commentators have summarised the disparity between the ethical obligations for OD and its poor uptake in practice:

In a perfect world, medical ethics should be sufficient to drive health professionals’ commitment to OD, but the reality is that comfort on the medicolegal front is likely to prove a useful carrot.15

The conflict between wishing to acknowledge error (out of moral obligation to the patient, as well as the probability that this will reduce the risk of litigation) but at the same time not wishing to admit liability (because it may increase the chance of litigation) is a core tension in OD practice. Interestingly, small trials of OD in the US have shown reductions in litigation,16,17 but it should be noted that the empirical evidence on the effect of OD on litigation rates is not yet conclusive.18,19

The apology paradox has meant that legal reform has focused on the so-called apology laws. These laws were introduced in Australia during the early 21st century after the Review of the law of negligence report.20 They aim to prevent apology statements from being used as admissions of liability. Unfortunately their form has varied across states and territories, leading to confusion about what kinds of statement they protect.2,8,15 For example, in Queensland and NSW, these laws refer to both expressions of regret (that do not admit or imply fault) and apologies (expressions of sympathy to a patient that may admit or imply fault).21,22 In Tasmania, by contrast, the laws stop short of making apologies that include the admission of fault inadmissible in court.23 Moreover, even if the apologies themselves are not admissible in court, discussion of the events leading up to the error is still likely to be so.15 Consequently, the national standard currently warns against explicit admissions of liability and speaks instead of “expressions of regret”. The resulting uncertainties may lead to carefully worded, insincere apologies that assume no responsibility for the adverse event for fear of litigation, and, again, paradoxically increase the likelihood of disgruntled patients bringing about actions against doctors.24

Studdert and Richardson have argued that Australian legal regimes must offer more reassurance to doctors who practise OD. With greater statutory protection, further training and experience in OD can then proceed.15

The recent review of the national standard by the Australian Commission on Safety and Quality in Health Care recommended that the national standard be amended to:

describe the basic principles and components of an apology or expression of regret (including the words I am or we are sorry) in the context of patient harm, but not be too prescriptive, due to

  • the complexity and uniqueness of individual incidents and consequent disclosure process

  • variations in legislative context between jurisdictions.25

This again illustrates the problem of the current apology laws and the variation across jurisdictions — how can doctors sincerely say they are sorry unless they explain why?

The way forward

For OD to be successful, three basic reforms should be adopted (Box 3). First, we agree with Studdert and Richardson that laws should be “broadly consistent across jurisdictions”.15 Further, we urge national uniformity of the laws incorporating blanket cover for all apologies and statements of regret including admissions of fault. Moreover, all these statements should be legally inadmissible for all purposes, to remove any fear that they may be used as evidence. Informed opinion suggests that it is unlikely, even in the current legal context, that Australian courts would give weight to statements indicating or implying fault in states where apologies remain unprotected.26 In the non-medical case of Dovuro v Wilkins,27 Gummow J explained that admissions of negligence are of little value in helping the court come to its conclusions about whether negligence has actually occurred. Nevertheless, without statutory reform, doubt will remain, and this will encourage doctors to remain hesitant about including sincere apologies in OD.

Second, the inadmissibility of apology evidence is of significant benefit to insurers. Consequently, we argue that insurers should be prevented from avoiding their responsibilities when apologies are made. The insurance industry could regulate itself in order to prevent industry members from voiding contracts when statements are made in accordance with the national standard. Alternatively, the federal government could use its powers to regulate the insurance industry to legislate such a change. In the interests of fairness, such a law should include a sunset clause so that after a predetermined period, its impact on apologies and insurance can be assessed. Of course, this will also require negotiation on the part of regulators as to how to define and measure OD practices in accordance with the national standard.

Finally, OD needs to be implanted directly into the bureaucratic structures of the new federal health system. Lessons can be learned from the current United Kingdom inquiry into the National Health Service (NHS) contractual standards for OD.28,29 The government has been unhappy with the uptake of OD under the current NHS constitution, and has recently decided to pursue a contractual duty to ensure compliance.30 From April 2013, the requirement to undertake OD will be formally included in contracts offered to NHS health care providers, with relevant breaches of contract possibly resulting in reduced funding, mandatory review, and remedial action.28

Similar obligations could be inserted with relative ease into Australia’s new Health Networks and Medicare Locals system, and be audited by the National Health Performance Authority under the National Health Reform Act 2011. At state and territory levels, regulations could require hospital and health boards to incorporate OD practice. For example, the Hospital and Health Boards Regulation 2012 (Qld) already requires Queensland hospital services to create clinical engagement strategies which “have regard to national and State strategies, policies, agreements and standards relevant to promoting consultation with health professionals working in the Service”.31 It would be a small step from there to expressly include the national standard as part of clinical strategies. Such regulatory techniques would strengthen the existing OD policies and further encourage the use of the national standard. The recent review of the national standard proposes many other potential methods to increase OD rates, including explicit policy at the local level (in addition to state policies), and undergraduate and postgraduate training.25

Conclusions

We have argued that OD is ethically and legally mandated. We have also shown that significant barriers remain that are impeding its adoption, and we have recommended three basic reforms, which can be tested over time for their effectiveness. Finally, we should remind ourselves that the reason for adopting OD is not to reduce litigation, although this may be a desirable side effect. Rather, the point is to encourage health systems that value honesty and transparency so that errors can be reduced and injured patients can be properly cared for.

1 Health department policies on open disclosure, by state and territory

State or territory

Title of open disclosure policy document or website

Link


ACT

Open disclosure policy

http://www.health.act.gov.au/c/health?a=dlpubpoldoc&document=1930 

NSW

Open disclosure

http://www.health.nsw.gov.au/policies/pd/2007/PD2007_040.html

NT

Report to the Department of Health and Families NT on governance of complaint handling and implementation of open disclosure at Royal Darwin Hospital

http://digitallibrary.health.nt.gov.au/dspace/bitstream/10137/255/1/Ray%20Norman%20Complaints%20Management%20Review.pdf

Qld

Open Disclosure Program (website)

http://www.health.qld.gov.au/psq/od/webpages/od_homepage.asp

SA

Open Disclosure (website)

http://www.sahealth.sa.gov.au/wps/wcm/connect/Public+Content/SA+Health+Internet/Clinical+resources/Safety+and+quality/Governance+for+Safety+and+Quality+in+health+service+
organisations/Open+disclosure

Tas

Department of Health and Human Services open disclosure policy

—*

Vic

Clinical risk management: open disclosure (website)

http://www.health.vic.gov.au/clinrisk/opendisc.htm

WA

WA open disclosure policy: communication and disclosure requirements for health professionals working in Western Australia

http://www.safetyandquality.health.wa.gov.au/involving_patient/open_disclosure.cfm

ACT = Australian Capital Territory. NSW = New South Wales. NT = Northern Territory. Qld = Queensland. SA = South Australia. Tas = Tasmania. Vic = Victoria. WA = Western Australia.

* A draft is currently being considered but is not available on the Department of Health and Human Services website.

2 Key steps in the open disclosure (OD) process

Doctors should be aware of the key steps in the OD process, as provided in s3.10 of Good medical practice: a code of conduct for doctors in Australia: 6

  • recognising what has happened;

  • acting immediately to rectify the problem, if possible, including seeking any necessary help and advice;

  • explaining to the patient as promptly and fully as possible what has happened and the anticipated short-term and long-term consequences;

  • acknowledging any patient distress and providing appropriate support;

  • complying with any relevant policies, procedures and reporting requirements, subject to advice from your medical indemnity insurer;

  • reviewing adverse events and implementing changes to reduce the risk of recurrence;

  • reporting adverse events to the relevant authority, as necessary; and

  • ensuring patients have access to information about the processes for making a complaint (for example, through the relevant health care complaints commission or medical board).

3 Necessary reforms in open disclosure (OD)

The following reforms should be adopted for OD to be successful:

  • uniform laws that provide a blanket exclusion of apologies from being used in evidence;

  • insurers must be prevented from voiding indemnity contracts when apologies are made in compliance with the national Open disclosure standard; and

  • establishment of national provider responsibilities to implement OD.

Direct-to-consumer genetic testing — a regulatory nightmare?

Will the current framework protect consumers effectively?

The age of personalised medicine has seen the rapid emergence of a direct-to-consumer (DTC) genetic testing industry.1 While various forms of DTC testing have been available for many years, the emergence of DTC genetic testing is raising new concerns relating to the accuracy of predictions, and potential harms to consumers given there is typically no individualised genetic counselling.2 DTC testing also has the capacity to increase pressure on an already overstretched health care system if confused consumers seek assistance from health practitioners in interpreting test results.3

In Australia, a number of companies advertise genetic testing directly to consumers. While some require that a health professional orders the tests and communicates results to the consumer, others offer unmediated services. Internationally, private companies are entering the DTC genetic testing market in increasing numbers. More likely than not, Australian consumers are responding to online advertising by these companies and sending their tissue samples for analysis overseas.

There is a growing body of academic commentary internationally calling for more stringent regulation of the industry.4,5 In many countries, genetic tests are already included within regimens regulating therapeutic goods, in the form of in-vitro diagnostic medical devices (IVDs).4 However, there is ongoing debate as to whether such regimens adequately regulate DTC testing, and a lack of consistency in regulatory approaches between countries, even within Europe.6 In 2003, the Australian Law Reform Commission and Australian Health Ethics Committee concluded in Essentially yours, the report of their inquiry into the protection of genetic information, that there are “strong arguments for regulating the supply, directly to the public, of products used in some forms of genetic testing”.7 Essentially yours also canvassed the difficulties associated with regulating foreign companies offering DTC genetic testing through the internet.7

The Australian Therapeutic Goods Act 1989 (Cwlth) (the Act) applies to all therapeutic goods imported into, supplied in and exported from Australia. In 2002 a new regulatory framework was established for medical devices through the Therapeutic Goods (Medical Devices) Regulations 2002 (Cwlth) (the Regulations). Amendments to the Regulations in 2010 introduced an IVD regimen for genetic tests.

In this article we provide a brief overview of how this new regimen regulates IVDs, and some thoughts on its likely effect on DTC genetic testing. It is not our intention to add to the extensive debate surrounding the ethical and legal implications of DTC testing, or to take a position on the appropriate regulatory response.

Therapeutic Goods Act and in-vitro medical devices

The new framework was designed to ensure that all IVDs supplied in Australia, with a few limited exceptions and exclusions, are registered on the Australian Register of Therapeutic Goods (ARTG). IVDs are defined broadly in the Regulations, embracing any medical device used to examine specimens derived from the human body for therapeutic purposes. This definition excludes IVDs used for testing parentage or for detecting the presence of drugs in samples from sportspeople.8 However, genetic tests used for any health-related purposes fall within the definition, whether for detecting disease, predisposition to a particular condition or even for nutrigenomic purposes.9

IVDs are classified according to a four-tiered risk-based system, with Class 4 IVDs posing the greatest risk to public or individual health. All genetic tests are Class 3 IVDs and are required to comply with essential principles relating to quality, safety and performance. There are three categories of IVDs: all IVDs that are intended for therapeutic use, in-house IVDs and IVDs for self-testing.8 In-house IVDs are for use specifically within laboratories. Reagents, calibrators and other equipment and materials used in DTC testing all seem likely to fit within this definition. Conversely, specimen receptacles provided to consumers fall outside the in-house category. As a general rule, these receptacles come within the broad low-risk category of Class 1 IVDs. However, receptacles used in DTC testing appear to also fall within the definition of self-testing IVDs, which includes IVDs intended to be used “in the collection of a sample by a lay person and, if the sample is tested by another person (eg, a laboratory) the results are returned directly to the person from whom the sample was taken”.10

Regulatory developments, which we discuss in the next section, lend weight to the argument that the drafters intended to classify DTC receptacles as a form of self-testing IVD; however, whether this is the case remains uncertain.

Prohibition on self-testing in-vitro devices

Although the Act allows for certain self-testing IVDs to be included on the ARTG, the 2010 Therapeutic Goods (Excluded Purposes) Specification (the Specification) prohibits the supply of self-testing IVDs used for four specific purposes, including genetic testing for the presence of or susceptibility to serious diseases.11

This does not affect genetic testing mediated by health professionals, as devices used for this purpose do not come within the definition of self-testing IVDs. However, the specific inclusion of genetic testing raises the question of whether the new regimen was intended to prohibit DTC testing in Australia. Unfortunately, the Explanatory Statement to the Specification is quite vague regarding its rationale and proposed effect.12

Prohibiting the supply of self-testing IVDs in Australia

Although the 2010 Specification prohibits registration of self-testing IVDs for genetic testing purposes, it does so only if the IVD is used exclusively for the listed purpose.11 Many companies that supply IVDs to consumers for DTC genetic testing provide other related services, such as ancestry, parentage, nutrigenomic or dietary testing. Thus, one saliva sample can provide the customer with both disease susceptibility and ancestry information. Moreover, some DTC testing companies state that they do not test for disease susceptibility, but rather, their services are for informational purposes. It seems likely, then, that the prohibition in the Specification could be avoided relatively easily.

Prohibiting the import and export of self-testing IVDs

Under section 41MI of the Act, it is a criminal offence to import or export an IVD that has not been included in the ARTG. Potentially, this provision could make consumers of foreign DTC services liable on the basis that they are directly involved in the import and export of specimen collection kits. However, under item 1.1 in Schedule 4 of the amended Regulations, a medical device that is imported into Australia is an “exempt device” where it is “for use in the in vitro examination of a specimen obtained from the importer or a member of the importer’s immediate family”.13 Item 1.2 in Schedule 4 of the amended Regulations provides that a medical device exported from Australia is similarly exempt provided inter alia that it “is not intended for commercial supply” or “for use for experimental purposes on humans”.13 These provisions seem to protect Australian consumers of overseas DTC genetic testing services from criminal liability. In France, in contrast, consumers face criminal liability for requesting genetic tests “outside the conditions laid by the law”.6

Thus, it appears that the Specification will either have no effect on DTC companies, whether Australian or not, or it will apply discriminately to Australian DTC companies despite the absence of any relevant difference in the services offered by them and those offered by overseas companies.

Regulating in-house genetic testing

Come what may, the 2010 amendments to the Regulations will result in more stringent regulation of Australian companies offering genetic testing services because of the requirement that in-house IVDs be included on the ARTG (although this requirement does not come in force until 1 July 2014). Schedule 3 of the Regulations provides detailed information on the requirements imposed on manufacturers of certain classes of in-house IVDs.

As such, although it is unclear whether or not Australian-based companies are prohibited from offering DTC genetic testing, they will be scrutinised more closely come mid 2014. However, the issue of how to regulate foreign providers of DTC genetic testing services remains unresolved. One option that was canvassed in Essentially yours was the enactment of federal legislation, similar to that in place for offensive material and interactive gambling, to regulate advertising of DTC genetic testing on the internet. However, it was ultimately concluded that it would be premature to implement a similar regimen at this stage.7

Conclusion

The growing chorus of concerns about an unregulated DTC testing industry makes it increasingly difficult to argue against some form of regulation. It is unfortunate that the new Australian regimen for regulating IVDs tends to err on the side of opaqueness. Moreover, although the Australian regulatory regimen was intended to be compliant with international norms, until there is global harmonisation, the Australian regimen is likely to be as ineffective as the regimen established to deal with offensive content online. Short of restricting access to certain internet content in Australia, no further means for regulating offshore testing have been canvassed to date. It seems timely to explore the applicability of consumer protection and other laws more fully, and to encourage involvement of bodies such as the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission. In parallel, further work needs to be done to improve consumer education about genetic testing.

Risks of complaints and adverse disciplinary findings against international medical graduates in Victoria and Western Australia

Correction

Incorrect author name: In a letter responding to “Risks of complaints and adverse disciplinary findings against international medical graduates in Victoria and Western Australia” in the Matters Arising section of the 18 March 2013 issue of the Journal (Med J Aust 2013; 198: 256), an error occurred in the second author’s name. The name should have been Tuan V Nguyen.

Risks of complaints and adverse disciplinary findings against international medical graduates in Victoria and Western Australia

To the Editor: While using medical board data for research purposes is very welcome, I have some reservations about ethical aspects of the study by Elkin and colleagues.1 Prospective ethics review of human research is intended to protect participants from foreseeable and avoidable harm. I suggest that, in this instance, avoidable harm has resulted, through generalised adverse and possibly unfair publicity about particular groups of international medical graduates.

Although identifying “complainant factors” as one source of potential bias, the authors interpreted the data as if this potential bias could be ignored. The surprising difference in complaint frequency between Victoria and Western Australia might say something about these complainant factors, but this is left unremarked. In addition, they failed to identify another potential source of bias in the outcome data, namely the potential for medical board adjudicators to assess complaints in a prejudiced way. Without knowledge of the nature of the complaints, the investigative findings and the outcomes that resulted, readers cannot assess the possible existence and impact of such biases.

A claim is made that complaints represent a form of sentinel-event surveillance system that flags problems, which may be true for investigated and substantiated complaints. But this cannot be asserted when, in this study, 70% of complaints were not investigated and of the 1606 that were investigated, 1233 apparently did not result in an adverse finding.

In my view, at the very least, the study should not have been published in the format chosen. Any important potential conclusions relevant to the regulator and the wider medical profession need not have identified specific countries of origin. I feel deeply for the vast majority of doctors in the identified so-called high-risk groups who have never been the subject of a complaint. I hope that the authors, the human research ethics committee involved, the reviewers and your editorial team will, after reflection, act to ensure better participant protection in the future.

Risks of complaints and adverse disciplinary findings against international medical graduates in Victoria and Western Australia

To the Editor: In a recent article,1 Elkin and colleagues concluded that, compared with Australian-trained doctors (ATDs), international medical graduates (IMGs) posed a greater risk of attracting complaints to medical boards. However, we think the conclusion is not supported by the data, and might have been compromised by the analytical methods used.

Box 1 of the research article1 shows that IMGs accounted for 37% of the total number of doctors, but were involved in 30% of complaints, suggesting that the risk of complaints among IMGs was lower than among ATDs. Indeed, in a reanalysis of the data, we found that the rate of complaints against IMGs was 25% lower (P < 0.001) than that for ATDs (Box).

The logistic regression used by the authors is suboptimal for count and rate data, which are likely to follow the Poisson distribution. We reanalysed the data using a Poisson regression model assuming similar durations of practice and found that the rate of complaints was highly dependent on the language background of IMGs (Box). For instance, compared with the complaint rate against ATDs, the complaint rate among IMGs whose countries list English as an official language was significantly lower (34%; P < 0.001), but was not lower among IMGs from non-English speaking countries (P = 0.098). Furthermore, among IMGs whose language requirements may have been waived by the medical board, the rate of complaints was substantially lower than among ATDs (46%; P < 0.001).

In summary, our reanalysis of the data suggests that compared with ATDs, IMGs had a lower rate of complaints against them.

Rate ratio of complaints against international medical graduates (IMGs) compared with Australian-trained doctors (ATDs)*

Rate ratio (95% CI)

P


IMGs v ATDs

0.75 (0.71–0.79)

< 0.001

Analysis by official language

English

0.66 (0.62–0.71)

< 0.001

Language other than English

0.94 (0.86–1.01)

0.098

Analysis by English requirement

Waived

0.54 (0.50–0.59)

< 0.001

Certificate required

0.95 (0.89–1.01)

0.126


* The analysis was based on the Poisson regression model using data presented in Box of the original research article.1 Countries where English is considered an official language include United Kingdom/Ireland, South Africa, New Zealand, India, Nigeria, Pakistan, the Philippines and Singapore. Countries for which the requirement for an English language proficiency certificate may be waived include South Africa, New Zealand and United Kingdom/Ireland.