As More People Crowdfund Medical Bills, Beware of Dubious Campaigns
Individuals seeking funding for experimental therapies may enroll in legitimate clinical trials -- or fall prey to snake oil.
Nearly a decade ago, Jamie Anderson hit his highest weight ever: 618 pounds. Depression drove him to eat and eat. He tried all kinds of diets, losing and regaining weight again and again. Then, four years ago, a friend nudged him to join a gym, and with a trainer's guidance, he embarked on a life-altering path.
Ethicists become particularly alarmed when medical crowdfunding appeals are for scientifically unfounded and potentially harmful interventions.
"The big catalyst for all of this is, I was diagnosed as a diabetic," says Anderson, a 46-year-old sales associate in the auto care department at Walmart. Within three years, he was down to 276 pounds but left with excess skin, which sagged from his belly to his mid-thighs.
Plastic surgery would cost $4,000 more than the sum his health insurance approved. That's when Anderson, who lives in Cabot, Arkansas, a suburb outside of Little Rock, turned to online crowdfunding to raise money. In a few months last year, current and former co-workers and friends of friends came up with that amount, covering the remaining expenses for the tummy tuck and overnight hospital stay.
The crowdfunding site that he used, CoFund Health, aimed to give his donors some peace of mind about where their money was going. Unlike GoFundMe and other platforms that don't restrict how donations are spent, Anderson's funds were loaded on a debit card that only worked at health care providers, so the donors "were assured that it was for medical bills only," he says.
CoFund Health was started in January 2019 in response to concerns about the legitimacy of many medical crowdfunding campaigns. As crowdfunding for health-related expenses has gained more traction on social media sites, with countless campaigns seeking to subsidize the high costs of care, it has given rise to some questionable transactions and legitimate ethical concerns.
Common examples of alleged fraud have involved misusing the donations for nonmedical purposes, feigning or embellishing the story of one's own unfortunate plight or that of another person, or impersonating someone else with an illness. Ethicists become particularly alarmed when medical crowdfunding appeals are for scientifically unfounded and potentially harmful interventions.
About 20 percent of American adults reported giving to a crowdfunding campaign for medical bills or treatments, according to a survey by AmeriSpeak Spotlight on Health from NORC, formerly called the National Opinion Research Center, a non-partisan research institution at the University of Chicago. The self-funded poll, conducted in November 2019, included 1,020 interviews with a representative sample of U.S. households. Researchers cited a 2019 City University of New York-Harvard study, which noted that medical bills are the most common basis for declaring personal bankruptcy.
Some experts contend that crowdfunding platforms should serve as gatekeepers in prohibiting campaigns for unproven treatments. Facing a dire diagnosis, individuals may go out on a limb to try anything and everything to prolong and improve the quality of their lives.
They may enroll in well-designed clinical trials, or they could fall prey "to snake oil being sold by people out there just making a buck," says Jeremy Snyder, a health sciences professor at Simon Fraser University in British Columbia, Canada, and the lead author of a December 2019 article in The Hastings Report about crowdfunding for dubious treatments.
For instance, crowdfunding campaigns have sought donations for homeopathic healing for cancer, unapproved stem cell therapy for central nervous system injury, and extended antibiotic use for chronic Lyme disease, according to an October 2018 report in the Journal of the American Medical Association.
Ford Vox, the lead author and an Atlanta-based physician specializing in brain injury, maintains that a repository should exist to monitor the outcomes of experimental treatments. "At the very least, there ought to be some tracking of what happens to the people the funds are being raised for," he says. "It would be great for an independent organization to do so."
"Even if it appears like a good cause, consumers should still do some research before donating to a crowdfunding campaign."
The Federal Trade Commission, the national consumer watchdog, cautions online that "it might be impossible for you to know if the cause is real and if the money actually gets to the intended recipient." Another caveat: Donors can't deduct contributions to individuals on tax returns.
"Even if it appears like a good cause, consumers should still do some research before donating to a crowdfunding campaign," says Malini Mithal, associate director of financial practices at the FTC. "Don't assume all medical treatments are tested and safe."
Before making any donation, it would be wise to check whether a crowdfunding site offers some sort of guarantee if a campaign ends up being fraudulent, says Kristin Judge, chief executive and founder of the Cybercrime Support Network, a Michigan-based nonprofit that serves victims before, during, and after an incident. They should know how the campaign organizer is related to the intended recipient and note whether any direct family members and friends have given funds and left supportive comments.
Donating to vetted charities offers more assurance than crowdfunding that the money will be channeled toward helping someone in need, says Daniel Billingsley, vice president of external affairs for the Oklahoma Center of Nonprofits. "Otherwise, you could be putting money into all sorts of scams." There is "zero accountability" for the crowdfunding site or the recipient to provide proof that the dollars were indeed funneled into health-related expenses.
Even if donors may have limited recourse against scammers, the "platforms have an ethical obligation to protect the people using their site from fraud," says Bryanna Moore, a postdoctoral fellow at Baylor College of Medicine's Center for Medical Ethics and Health Policy. "It's easy to take advantage of people who want to be charitable."
There are "different layers of deception" on a broad spectrum of fraud, ranging from "outright lying for a self-serving reason" to publicizing an imaginary illness to collect money genuinely needed for basic living expenses. With medical campaigns being a top category among crowdfunding appeals, it's "a lot of money that's exchanging hands," Moore says.
The advent of crowdfunding "reveals and, in some ways, reinforces a health care system that is totally broken," says Jessica Pierce, a faculty affiliate in the Center for Bioethics and Humanities at the University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus in Denver. "The fact that people have to scrounge for money to get life-saving treatment is unethical."
Crowdfunding also highlights socioeconomic and racial disparities by giving an unfair advantage to those who are social-media savvy and capable of crafting a compelling narrative that attracts donors. Privacy issues enter into the picture as well, because telling that narrative entails revealing personal details, Pierce says, particularly when it comes to children, "who may not be able to consent at a really informed level."
CoFund Health, the crowdfunding site on which Anderson raised the money for his plastic surgery, offers to help people write their campaigns and copy edit for proper language, says Matthew Martin, co-founder and chief executive officer. Like other crowdfunding sites, it retains a few percent of the donations for each campaign. Martin is the husband of Anderson's acquaintance from high school.
So far, the site, which is based in Raleigh, North Carolina, has hosted about 600 crowdfunding campaigns, some completed and some still in progress. Campaigns have raised as little as $300 to cover immediate dental expenses and as much as $12,000 for cancer treatments, Martin says, but most have set a goal between $5,000 and $10,000.
Whether or not someone's campaign is based on fact or fiction remains for prospective donors to decide.
The services could be cosmetic—for example, a breast enhancement or reduction, laser procedures for the eyes or skin, and chiropractic care. A number of campaigns have sought funding for transgender surgeries, which many insurers consider optional, he says.
In July 2019, a second site was hatched out of pet owners' requests for assistance with their dogs' and cats' medical expenses. Money raised on CoFund My Pet can only be used at veterinary clinics. Martin says the debit card would be declined at other merchants, just as its CoFund Health counterpart for humans will be rejected at places other than health care facilities, dental and vision providers, and pharmacies.
Whether or not someone's campaign is based on fact or fiction remains for prospective donors to decide. If a donor were to regret a transaction, he says the site would reach out to the campaign's owner but ultimately couldn't force a refund, Martin explains, because "it's hard to chase down fraud without having access to people's health records."
In some crowdfunding campaigns, the individual needs some or all the donated resources to pay for travel and lodging at faraway destinations to receive care, says Snyder, the health sciences professor and crowdfunding report author. He suggests people only give to recipients they know personally.
"That may change the calculus a little bit," tipping the decision in favor of donating, he says. As long as the treatment isn't harmful, the funds are a small gesture of support. "There's some value in that for preserving hope or just showing them that you care."
Vaccine passports, if required by businesses and universities, may give people a false sense of security, one expert cautions.
Vaccines are one of the greatest public health accomplishments of all time. For centuries, public health has relied on vaccinations to prevent and control disease outbreaks for a plethora of infectious scourges, with our crowning achievement being the successful eradication of smallpox.
The purpose of vaccine documentation is to provide proof of an individual's protection from either becoming infected or transmitting a vaccine-preventable disease. Vouching for these protections requires a firm knowledge about the epidemiology of the disease, as well as scientific knowledge concerning the efficacy of the vaccine. The vaccines we currently require be documented have met these tests; the vaccine for COVID-19 has not yet been proven to do so.
Let's acknowledge that the term "vaccine passport" is a poor choice of words. Passports are a legal travel document created by nations and governed by law for identification of the bearer to control entry and exit from nation states. They often serve as legal forms of identification and as a record of international travel. They are generally very sophisticated documents that have been created in a secure manner and may include a range of electronic and, in some cases, biometric measures such as fingerprints to ensure the holder is indeed who they say they are. Vaccine passports are medical documents used to document the vaccination status of an individual. They do not undergo the same level of administrative scrutiny and cannot be used to verify that the presenter is indeed the vaccinated individual. Some companies do have electronic methods to address concerns about verification; however, most people currently have paper records that can be easily falsified.
"Vaccine passports" as currently proposed risk giving people a false sense of security.
Successful disease control from vaccination programs relies on the ability to vaccinate at a level that prevents large-scale disease spread and the ability to rapidly identify the presence of disease outbreaks. It requires reliable, safe, and effective vaccines that are easily delivered in clinical and nonclinical settings. Keeping vaccination information as a part of the medical record, and even having a separate specialized vaccine record for personal use, is a time-honored tradition.
Keeping a vaccination record provides a method to keep track of the many shots one receives and serves as a visual reminder to help ensure the appropriate vaccine shot schedule is maintained for vaccines requiring multiple doses. The vaccine record, when combined with vaccine safety monitoring systems, serves as a mechanism to track adverse events to monitor and ensure the safety of vaccines as a consumer product. The record also serves as the official record of vaccination when required for administrative or legally prescribed purposes.
"Vaccine passports" as currently proposed risk giving people a false sense of security. In the case of the COVID-19 vaccines currently approved for use, many of the essential questions remain unanswered. While we do know the current three vaccines are highly protective against severe disease and death, and there is some evidence that these vaccinations do reduce infections and virus transmission of SARS-CoV-2, we do not yet know the full degree to which this occurs.
For example, we know there have been some cases of people that have been infected in close proximity to getting their full vaccination and rare cases of breakthrough reinfections. A breakthrough infection in a restaurant is a challenge for contact tracing, but an outbreak from a movie theater exposure or a baseball game could spark a major outbreak at our current level of vaccination. Current CDC guidance recommends continued mask wearing in order to address these concerns.
We also do not yet know how long the protections will last and if or when a booster or revaccination is required. In effect, it is too soon to know. Should an annual booster shot be required, then a vaccine passport would require annual updating, a process more frequent than renewal of a driver's license.
We also know that the current SARS-CoV-2 virus is mutating briskly. While the current approved vaccines have remained effective overall, there is evidence of some degree of degradation in vaccine effectiveness against some of the circulating strains. We also have sparse data on many of the other emerging strains of concern because we have not had the surveillance capacity in the U.S. to gain an adequate sense of how the virus is changing to fully align vaccine effectiveness with viral capabilities.
The risk of people misusing these "passports" is troubling. The potential for using these documents for hiring, firing or job limitation is a serious concern. Unvaccinated workers are at risk of this form of discrimination even from well-meaning employers or supervisors. Health insurers are prohibited by the Affordable Care Act from discriminating based on preexisting conditions, but they could probably charge a higher premium for unvaccinated individuals. There also is a risk of stigmatizing individuals who are not vaccinated or have left their vaccine documentation at home. Another concern: the opportunity to discriminate based on race, gender, sexual orientation, or religion, using one's vaccination status as an excuse.
These "passports" are being discussed as a "ticket verification" for entry to many activities, including dining at restaurants, flying domestically and/or internationally, going to movie theaters and sporting events, etc. These are all activities we already are doing at reduced levels and for which wearing a mask, hand hygiene and physical distancing are effective disease control practices. COVID-19 vaccines are indeed the measure that will make the ability to totally reopen our society complete, but we are not there yet. Documentation of one's COVID-19 vaccine status may be useful in selected situations in the future. That remains to be seen.
Finally, inadequate vaccine supply and disparities in vaccine delivery have created enormous challenges in providing equal access to vaccination. Also, the amount of misinformation, disinformation, and lingering vaccine hesitancy continue to limit the speed at which we will reach the level of vaccination of the population that would make this documentation meaningful. The requirement for "vaccine passports" is already alienating people who are opposed to vaccinations for a variety of reasons, paradoxically risking reduced vaccine uptake. This politicization of the vaccination effort is of concern. There are indeed people who, due to medical contraindications or legal exemptions, will not be vaccinated, and we do not yet have a national framework on how to address this.
Vaccine passports are not the solution for reopening our society — a robust vaccination program is. The requirement to document one's vaccination status for COVID-19 may one day have its place. For now, it is an idea whose time has not yet come.
Editor's Note: This op/ed is part of a "Big Question" series on the ethics of vaccine passports. Read the flip side argument here.
A digital health passport required by businesses and universities could help us get back to normal more quickly, one expert argues.
"Vaccine passports" are a system that requires proof of a COVID-19 vaccination as a condition of engaging in activities that pose a risk of transmitted SARS-CoV-2. Digital Health Passes (DHPs) are typically a smartphone application with a code that verifies whether someone has been vaccinated.
Vaccine passports could very much be in our future. Many businesses are implementing or planning to require proof of vaccination as a condition of returning to the workplace. Colleges and universities have announced vaccine requirements for students, staff, and faculty. It may not be long before the private sector requires a vaccination card or image to attend an entertainment or sporting event, to travel, or even to dine or shop indoors, at least in some venues.
But it's unlikely the federal government or the states will launch DHPs, at least not in the near-term. President Biden announced the White House has no intention of requiring proof of vaccination. While no state has mandated DHPs, New York is piloting its Excelsior Pass on a voluntary basis, partnering with IBM. Other nations are not so hesitant. Israel's "Green Pass" has gotten the nation back to normal in record time. And various countries and regions are planning DHPs, including the European Union and the United Kingdom. Foreign airlines are likely to require proof of vaccination as a condition of flying internationally.
DHPs could emerge as a way to get us back to normal more quickly, but are they ethical? Let's start with the law. The US Equal Opportunity Commission (EEOC) has specifically said that employers have the legal right to require proof of vaccination as a condition of returning to work. Colleges and universities already require several vaccines for students living in dorms. Hospitals and nursing homes often mandate influenza vaccinations. And, of course, all states require childhood vaccinations for school attendance. Vaccine passports are lawful but are they ethical? The short answer is "yes" but only if we ensure no one is left behind.
Vaccine passports "don't force anyone to be vaccinated against his or her will. They simply say to individuals that if you choose not to be vaccinated, you can't work or recreate in public spaces that risk transmission of the virus."
Why are vaccine passports ethical? Vaccines are a miracle of modern science, but they have become a political symbol, and a significant part of the population doesn't want to get a jab. The rare cases of blood clots associated with the Johnson & Johnson and AstraZeneca vaccines have only created more distrust.
Most opposition to vaccine passports hinges on the claim that they infringe personal autonomy and liberty. But this argument misses the point. Of course, every competent adult has the right to make decisions that affect his or her own health and safety. But no one has a right to infringe on the rights of others, such as by exposing them to a potentially serious or deadly infectious disease. An individual can't claim the right to attend a crowded event mask-less and unvaccinated. This was once accepted across the political spectrum. Conservative economists called it an "externality," that is a person has no right to harm others. The U.S. has lost the tradition of the common good. We have become so focused on our own individual rights that we forget about our ethical obligations to our neighbors and to our community.
In fact, DHPs actually don't force anyone to be vaccinated against his or her will. They simply say to individuals that if you choose not to be vaccinated, you can't work or recreate in public spaces that risk transmission of the virus.
DHPs also don't infringe on privacy. Again, everyone has the choice whether to show proof of vaccination. It isn't required. Moreover, DHPs may actually protect privacy because all they do is show whether or not you have been vaccinated. They don't disclose any other personal medical information. All of us actually have already had to show proof of vaccination as a condition of going to school. Thus, DHPs are well established in the United States.
But there is one ethical argument against DHPs that I find to be powerful, and that is equity. If we require proof of vaccination while doses are scarce, we will give the already privileged even more privilege. And that would be unconscionable. Thus, DHPs should not be implemented until everyone who wants a vaccine is able to get a vaccine. Equity isn't a side issue. It needs to be front and center.
As of today, all adults in the U.S. are eligible to get vaccinated, and President Biden has pledged that by the end of May there will be enough doses to vaccinate the entire U.S. population. It is a realistic promise. Once vaccines become plentiful, everyone should get their shot. All Food and Drug Administration authorized vaccines are highly safe and effective, even the Johnson & Johnson vaccine that the FDA has just put on pause.
Businesses have an economic incentive to require proof of vaccination. Very few of us would feel comfortable returning to our jobs, shops, theaters, or restaurants unless we feel safe. Businesses understand the duty to create safer places for work, recreation, and commerce.
One question has dominated national conversation since the pandemic began. "When will we get back to normal?" There is a deep human yearning to hug family and friends, see our work colleagues, recreate, and be entertained. One day we will have defeated this wily virus and get back to normal. But vaccine passports can help us get back to the things we love faster and more safely. As long as we don't leave anyone behind, using this miracle of modern science to make our lives better is both lawful and ethical.
Editor's Note: This op/ed is part of a "Big Question" series on the ethics of vaccine passports. Read the flip-side argument here.