Ethan B. Ellis
Tom Nerney, a pioneer in the DD community, once said that debates over policy aren’t won with statistics, but they sure are helpful when its time to implement the policy that won. While Tom was right, data often help me sort out my thinking on important issues. They fill holes in the big picture I might stumble over otherwise.
That’s why I look forward to Steve Gold’s analyses of long-term care for people with disabilities. Recently, he’s issued three Information Bulletins (#296, 297 and 298) in rapid fire. Each compares how states divide Medicaid money for long-term care between institutional and community supports for different groups of people with disabilities.
In #296, he compares state expenditures for institutional versus community services for people who are old or have physical disabilities; in #297, he does the same for people with developmental disabilities; in #298, he compares one against the other. His findings are provocative; so are the questions they raise.
I’ll spare you most of the numbers, but here are a few that caught my eye:
Two-thirds of the $104 billion we spend on Medicaid long-term care goes to people who are old or have physical disabilities; one third goes to people with developmental disabilities;
64.5% of what we spend on people with developmental disabilities goes for community services, 35.5% for institutions;
Only 31.6% spent on people who were old or had physical disabilities goes for community services, 68.4% for institutions, almost the exact opposite.
Steve asked why the differences. Here are some likely answers.
First, the DD community is the oldest and strongest of all the disability advocacy groups. It was started in the late 1940s and early 1950s by parents who have always had more resources to lobby decision-makers with than people with disabilities did. They also have had more credibility with those decision-makers simply because they look and walk and talk more like them than we do.
Second, that community has been united under one banner, that of developmental disabilities, created by Elizabeth Boggs and Elsie Helsel for exactly that purpose. People with disabilities have taken longer to unite. The differences in our disabilities make us more heterogeneous than our families and that heterogeneity makes it harder to establish common goals, especially if we were first organized by people without disabilities, who made their living serving us separately.
Third, the nursing home industry has more economic and political clout in Washington than do the declining numbers of parents and union members who want to keep developmental centers open. The economic stakes for nursing home owners are considerably higher.
Fourth, people in nursing homes are more diverse than most think. While seniors make up the majority of residents, there are also many younger people with physical and developmental disabilities in them, the first thought to be incapable of living anywhere else because of the severity of their disabilities, the second, because they didn’t fit neatly into community programs when their developmental centers were closed. Both were wasting away until ADAPT began to free them through direct action and creative legislative advocacy.
Fifth, the concept that older people who are disabled or ill can live in the community is much newer than the counterpart call for community supports from disability advocates. It is new to their families and to the general public and, until recently, has had little support from the organized senior citizen community.
The nation is now at a turning point in how it will spend its long-term care dollars. Seniors, who have always wanted to live out their ‘golden years’ in their own homes, are saying so more loudly, just as people with disabilities have been doing for so long.
The health care debate has made it clear that institutionalization is several times more expensive than community supports and usually unnecessary and wasteful. ADAPT, long viewed as too radical in its tactics, has demonstrated the success of those tactics and become a leader in developing a legislative agenda for long-term care that has united other disability groups and seniors.
On the other hand, that agenda has been overshadowed in the health care debate by the efforts of the medical/industrial complex to protect its money-making machine at the expense of this country’s health and solvency. Many who support the status quo in long-term care are part of that complex and are working hard to keep that agenda buried.
At this time, it seems likely that the health care battle will result in a draw: President Obama will get a bill to sign; it will not solve the basic problems of escalating medical expenses and lack of insurance for many Americans; and those issues will have to be dealt with again soon.
If that draw teaches us anything, it should teach us that people with disabilities must develop political power commensurate with our numbers. We’re a fifth of this country’s population and we must use the power inherent in those numbers when the battle over health care breaks out again. We say we want to be in the mainstream and that means playing mainstream politics.