Measured Care, Missed Moments: What Pooh Can Teach Us About Value-Based Healthcare
Part I: A Bear of Very Little Brain and a Very Big Problem
"People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day." — Winnie the Pooh
If you're a patient today, you've likely felt it: the rushed visit, the quick scan of your chart, the sense that your doctor or nurse is juggling more than just your care. You may have heard terms like "value-based care" tossed around, maybe in a brochure, the news, or even from your health plan. But what does it all mean—and why does it matter to you?
We live in a healthcare system that often confuses busyness for care and production for progress. Everyone is moving quickly, but it’s not always clear what we’re moving toward. Meanwhile, the promise of value-based care—healthcare that’s holistic, patient-centered, and focused on actual outcomes—remains tangled in a system still largely built to reward volume over value.
In Winnie the Pooh, simplicity is a virtue. Pooh is not clever, but he is deeply present. He’s the kind of character who notices when someone is missing, when someone is sad, or when someone might need a snack. In a world obsessed with doing more, faster, Pooh reminds us that being still and paying attention might just be the most important work of all.
Let's pause here and be honest: this blog has a philosophical lens. But our team is rooted in that lens because we believe that care is more than just services—it’s about how we show up for each other. That belief requires us to engage with ideas that aren’t just about checkboxes or quotas. Take the idea of virtue. We don’t hear the word much these days, but in classical philosophy—especially in Aristotle’s ethics—virtue isn’t just about being good. It’s about practicing goodness over time. Through habit, effort, and consistency, virtue is formed. It's not flashy or quick. It’s the quiet discipline of doing the right thing again and again. And in many ways, Pooh is a model of that. He’s not striving for accolades. He shows up. He notices. He returns.
We need more of that in healthcare.
Let’s get practical for a moment:
Fee-for-Service: The traditional system. Providers are paid for each test, visit, or procedure separately. Encourages more appointments and interventions—even if they aren't always necessary.
Value-Based Care: A newer model that rewards providers for improving your health, not just doing more things.Focuses on better outcomes, prevention, and managing chronic illness—not just volume.
Value-based care sounds great in theory—and it can be. But in practice, most providers are still living in both worlds. Their paychecks often depend more on how many patients they see than how well those patients do. Less than 30% of provider bonuses are tied to quality. Over 85% of payments are still driven by quantity.
So why does this matter to you as a patient?
Because it shapes how your care is delivered. It explains why your visit may feel rushed. Why there's more screen time than face time. Why your complex story gets boiled down into a few diagnosis codes. The system is trying to move toward value—but it hasn’t let go of volume.
“Rabbit’s clever,” said Pooh thoughtfully. “Yes,” said Piglet, “Rabbit’s clever.” “And he has Brain.” “Yes,” said Piglet, “Rabbit has Brain.” There was a long silence. “I suppose,” said Pooh, “that’s why he never understands anything.”
That quote may feel whimsical, but it’s also wise. Our current system is clever. It tracks. It analyzes. It optimizes. But clever isn’t the same as wise. And it’s not the same as kind.
You’ve probably felt the difference.
And yet, despite all the friction, you persist. Because you believe, like we do, that healthcare can be better. That presence matters. That slowing down doesn’t mean doing less—it means caring more intentionally.
As Pooh might say, “We’ll get there some day.” But only if we choose to. And that choice begins by remembering that your care is not a transaction. It’s a relationship. And relationships—like health—need time, attention, and the willingness to pause and truly see.
