Doctors working for health insurers can rule on 10,000 or more requests for care a year. At least a dozen were hired by major insurance companies after being disciplined by state medical boards or making multiple or outsized malpractice payments.
Series:Uncovered: How the Insurance Industry Denies Coverage to Patients
When Shawn Murphy’s wife died in 2009 after a botched gallbladder surgery, he presumed the doctor who performed the operation would be forced out of medicine for good.
Dr. Pachavit Kasemsap, a former Air Force surgeon, had cut Loretta Murphy’s aorta during that common procedure, according to a database of malpractice payments kept by Florida insurance regulators. She never left the hospital and died just shy of her 40th birthday. Shawn Murphy was left to raise their two daughters, then 13 and 17, on his own.
During the weeks that Murphy prayed for his wife to recover and the months that he fought Kasemsap in circuit court in Brevard County, Florida, he didn’t know that other families had complained that their loved ones had suffered under the same doctor’s care.
Kasemsap has settled five malpractice cases for a total of $3 million, according to the Florida malpractice payment database. That includes $1 million paid to the Murphy family. In one of the cases Kasemsap settled, a patient said the doctor negligently stapled and stitched her rectum to her vagina. Kasemsap denied doing that, and in legal filings in all five cases, the doctor denied that he was negli
The doctor’s LinkedIn profile says his last job as a surgeon ended in December 2012, months before he settled the last of those five cases. But there was one industry ready to welcome him regardless: health insurance.
Kasemsap got a job as an insurance company medical director, where suddenly he had the power to impact the lives of far more patients than he would ever have seen in the operating room.
For most policyholders, the inner workings of their health insurer are a black box: Requests to cover treatment or pay claims go in, and approvals or rejections are spit out.
The pivotal gatekeepers inside the box are medical directors like Kasemsap. They can, without ever seeing a patient, overrule the judgment of the doctor who did and deny payment for a recommended procedure, test or medicine.
Insurers say medical directors steer patients away from unnecessary or risky care and expensive treatments for which there are less costly, equally effective alternatives. Patients and their physicians complain that insurance company doctors routinely, and wrongly, deny payment for critical lifesaving treatments because they are expensive.
The stakes are high: A refusal to pay for treatment can drive families into bankruptcy. Some patients, facing the cost, forgo care altogether. And a single medical director can rule on 10,000 cases a year, according to court testimony in a case involving Aetna. Some Cigna doctors have ruled on more than 10,000 cases in a month without opening the patient file, as ProPublica and The Capitol Forum have reported.
Despite the key role insurers’ medical directors play in the lives of patients, their identities and backgrounds, and their qualifications for making such life-altering assessments, remain largely hidden.
Many states require medical directors to be licensed physicians, but beyond that it is generally up to insurers to determine which medical professionals are fit for the job.
Patients and the doctors who treat them don’t get to pick which medical director reviews their case. An anesthesiologist working for an insurer can overrule a patient’s oncologist. In other cases, the medical director might be a doctor like Kasemsap who has left clinical practice after multiple accusations of negligence.
As part of a yearlong series about how health plans refuse to pay for care, ProPublica and The Capitol Forum set out to examine who insurers picked for such important jobs.
Reporters could not find any comprehensive database of doctors working for insurance companies or any public listings by the insurers who employ them. Many health plans also farm out medical reviews to other companies that employ their own doctors. ProPublica and The Capitol Forum identified medical directors through regulatory filings, LinkedIn profiles, lawsuits and interviews with insurance industry insiders. Reporters then checked those names against malpractice databases, state licensing board actions and court filings in 17 states.
Among the findings: The Capitol Forum and ProPublica identified 12 insurance company doctors with either a history of multiple malpractice payments, a single payment in excess of $1 million or a disciplinary action by a state medical board.
One medical director settled malpractice cases with 11 patients, some of whom alleged he bungled their urology surgeries and left them incontinent. Another was reprimanded by a state medical board for behavior that it found to be deceptive and dishonest. A third settled a malpractice case for $1.8 million after failing to identify cancerous cells on a pathology slide, which delayed a diagnosis for a 27-year-old mother of two, who died less than a year after her cancer was finally discovered.
None of this would have been easily visible to patients seeking approvals for care or payment from insurers who relied on these medical directors.
When patients look for doctors, they can first check the physicians’ education, experience and qualifications. Most states allow consumers to see if doctors have been sanctioned by a medical board for providing substandard care, and many also provide some information about malpractice payments. But that kind of up-front scrutiny isn’t possible with medical directors because patients typically don’t learn their identity until a denial arrives.
Kasemsap’s history of malpractice payments was no secret before Cigna hired him in 2019. Two years earlier, he was the subject of a front-page story in the South Florida Sun Sentinel headlined “Dangerous Doctors.” In addition to handling appeals for the insurer, Kasemsap obtained a certification through a Cigna physician leadership program and oversees the work of 13 other medical directors there, according to his LinkedIn profile. Cigna CEO David Cordani posed with him and others in a photo at a recent company leadership event.
When told Kasemsap was working in this critical role, Murphy was shocked. “This guy should not be deciding medical questions,” he said. “I don’t care if it’s an earache.”
Kasemsap wrote in an email to ProPublica and The Capitol Forum: “Please know that I carry every patient outcome with me, and those experiences reinforced my commitment to being a compassionate, detail-oriented, dedicated colleague who puts our members at the center of everything I do.” Kasemsap said he was responding on his own behalf, not Cigna’s. He did not answer other questions about his malpractice cases or his role at the insurer.
Cigna, in a statement, said all of its medical directors are board-certified, credentialed physicians and the company holds its medical directors to the same standard as doctors who participate in its network. “We use a comprehensive suite of materials and discussions to assess how our medical directors support patients efficiently and effectively,” a company spokesperson wrote.
In another statement, the spokesperson wrote, “As I’m sure you’re aware, malpractice claims against physicians are common, particularly in high-risk specialties such as surgery, and the settlement of malpractice claims does not necessarily mean that malpractice occurred.”
Between 2005 and 2014, during the time when Kasemsap settled his malpractice cases, only 6% of doctors nationwide had any paid malpractice claims and only 1% had two or more paid claims, according to a study in the New England Journal of Medicine. A study in the same journal found that while surgeons were more likely to face a claim than physicians overall, less than 5% of general surgeons paid a malpractice claim each year between 1991 and 2005.
“I can say in my 35-plus years doing this that this is the most unskilled surgeon I have ever seen in a case,” said Mac McLeod, a malpractice attorney who represented two plaintiffs who sued Kasemsap, including the woman who said Kasemsap connected her rectum to her vagina.
When asked about McLeod’s assertion, Kasemsap wrote, “This is a mischaracterization of a highly complex medical case that occurred more than 15 years ago.” Kasemsap did not say what was mischaracterized.
A Doctor Goes Sleuthing
A few days before Christmas in 2021, Terrold Dance was loaded down with electrical tools when he slipped on some ice at a worksite and went to a Colorado hospital for help. An MRI later showed that Dance had torn his rotator cuff, the muscles and tendons that surround the shoulder joint and keep the upper arm bone in the socket.
Workers’ compensation paid for the scan and some physical therapy, but that didn’t fix the problem. By the next Christmas, Dance was still in pain and couldn’t fully raise his arm over his head. A Colorado orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Braden Jones, examined Dance and concluded that he needed surgery.
“The guy had not gotten better for a year,” Jones recalled. “It was a pretty clear-cut case for surgery.”
Pinnacol Assurance, the workers’ compensation company that handled Dance’s policy, required that the surgery be authorized in advance, and the company hired a medical reviewer named Dr. Jon Erickson to scrutinize Dance’s request and medical records. Like a medical director, a contract medical reviewer for Pinnacol evaluates whether a surgery is medically necessary. In a letter to a case manager, Erickson concluded that steroid injections and some physical therapy would likely be enough to fix Dance’s problem. Pinnacol denied the request for surgery.
“I believe the mechanism of injury is somewhat questionable,” Erickson wrote, “and we would be best served by considering a program of nonoperative care which involves injections.”
The letter baffled Jones. It downplayed Dance’s shoulder injury and brushed aside the MRI report, Jones said. Erickson didn’t cite any published research or medical society guidelines to explain why an operation was not needed. Jones said that the letter was such a break from accepted orthopedic practice that he wondered if Erickson had ever been a surgeon.