Why Are Independent Medical Practices Dying?

The independent doctor's office is becoming an endangered species in American health care because regulation favors size over service. Hospitals and private equity groups have absorbed thousands of small practices over the past decade, and the pace of consolidation is accelerating. The Physicians Advocacy Institute reported that hospital ownership of physician practices more than doubled between 2012 and 2022, rising from 26 percent to 52 percent of doctors employed by hospitals. Patients notice the difference in longer waits, higher prices, and less personal attention. The consolidation is not a market failure. It is a policy success for the regulated.

Small practices cannot compete because the regulatory deck is stacked against them. A solo family physician in Texas or Tennessee must navigate HIPAA compliance, Medicare quality reporting, prior authorization paperwork, and state-level insurance mandates that add fixed costs regardless of patient volume. The American Medical Association found that prior authorization alone costs physician practices an average of 16 hours per week in staff time. For a small office with three employees, that is nearly half a full-time position consumed by paperwork.

The burden falls hardest on the smallest players. A 2024 survey by the Medical Group Management Association showed that practices with fewer than five providers spend roughly $83,000 per physician per year on regulatory compliance. Large hospital systems spread those same costs across hundreds of doctors and lawyers. The result is a marketplace where only the giants can afford to play, and patients pay the monopoly price.

Rural communities feel the pain most acutely. When a small practice closes in a county with only one or two family doctors, residents must drive an hour or more for routine care. The National Rural Health Association has documented more than 140 rural hospital closures since 2010, and each closure ripples outward into the primary care practices that depended on those facilities. Centralized health planning has not produced abundance. It has produced deserts.

How Do Certificate of Need Laws Block Competition?

Certificate of need laws are perhaps the most direct assault on small medical business in the states that still enforce them. These statutes require health care providers to prove to a state board that a new facility or major equipment purchase is needed before they can open or expand. Thirty-five states and the District of Columbia operated CON regimes as of 2025, though reform efforts in North Carolina, South Carolina, and elsewhere have begun to chip away at them.

The stated goal was to control costs by preventing duplication. The actual effect, documented repeatedly by the Mercatus Center at George Mason University, is to protect incumbent hospitals from competition. Mercatus research estimates that CON laws are associated with 30 percent fewer hospital beds and fewer magnetic resonance imaging machines per capita. Fewer machines mean longer waits and higher prices. They also mean that an entrepreneur who wants to open an outpatient imaging center must first beg permission from the very competitors she hopes to challenge.

Ambulatory surgical centers illustrate the harm. These facilities often charge 30 to 50 percent less than hospitals for the same procedures and score higher on patient satisfaction. In states with strict CON laws, hospitals routinely object to new surgical centers by claiming the market is already saturated. State boards usually agree. Patients lose access to lower prices and better service because a regulator accepted the incumbent's self-serving argument.

Direct primary care offers a glimpse of what a freer market could look like. These practices typically charge patients a flat monthly fee, often between $50 and $100, for unlimited access to basic primary care. They avoid insurance bureaucracy entirely. Yet some states classify direct primary care as insurance and regulate it accordingly, adding reserve requirements, mandated benefits, and other rules designed for Fortune 500 carriers. The model survives despite the law, not because of it.

What Would Real Health Care Freedom Look Like?

Real reform starts with repeal, not with another layer of federal oversight that would add paperwork without improving care. States should eliminate certificate of need laws and allow new entrants to compete on price, quality, and convenience, giving patients real choices beyond the nearest hospital system. Texas repealed many of its CON requirements for nursing homes and long-term care in the 1980s and has seen robust expansion in senior care options as a result. Other states should follow that example rather than protecting hospital cartels.

Federal lawmakers can help by simplifying Medicare reporting, expanding health savings accounts, and clarifying that direct primary care membership fees are not insurance products subject to state insurance regulation. Representative Chip Roy of Texas and Senator Josh Hawley of Missouri have both backed legislation to protect direct primary care from insurance-style mandates. Those bills deserve floor time.

Occupational licensing reform would open even more doors. Nurse practitioners deliver high-quality primary care in many states, yet some jurisdictions still require physician supervision for basic services. Removing those restrictions would let small clinics hire the staff they need at wages they can afford. Telehealth licensing reciprocity would help too, allowing doctors licensed in one state to serve patients across state lines without jumping through fifty separate regulatory hoops.

The conservative answer to health care is not another federal program. It is to remove the barriers that prevent small practices and innovative models from serving patients. When a nurse practitioner cannot open a clinic because a state board says the market is full, liberty has left the building. When a family doctor spends sixteen hours a week begging insurers for permission to treat patients, something has gone wrong. The path to better, cheaper care runs through deregulation, not through Washington. Small medicine is worth saving, and patients are the ones who lose when it disappears.