Why Does GoodRx Exist, and How Does It Work

Stacks of GoodRx cards sent to me at my place of employment

Last week, I wrote about pharmacy benefit managers (PBMs), which are the companies that insurers contract with to help them create and manage their drug formularies. These PBMs also have significant power in the market as the ones who, to a fair extent, influence which prescriptions patients get because they control the patient’s copay for each medicine, so they take advantage of that by getting kickbacks from manufacturers to make those manufacturers’ drugs cheaper for patients.

And now PBMs come into play again this week as we look at GoodRx. The most useful source I found when reading about GoodRx is right on the company’s website, an FAQ for pharmacy staff. Also, this review of their public filings was very helpful.

First, what is GoodRx? It’s a company that offers a free prescription card that patients can use to get discounts on their medications, and you can check what the discounted price will be at pharmacies in your area. (They’ve since branched out now into subscription programs and telehealth, but I’ll focus on their original line of business here.) GoodRx prescription discount cards don’t work in addition to insurance; rather, you either buy the medication through your insurance plan or you pay without insurance and use a GoodRx card to get a better price.

I have no financial interest in GoodRx, but it seems like a no-brainer for anyone who is about to buy a medication through insurance to ask how much their copay will be and then pull up the GoodRx app right then and there to see if any local pharmacies can offer the med cheaper through GoodRx (and, according to a couple journalists who tried that, they got a cheaper price through GoodRx about 40% of the time for the most commonly prescribed medications). Just remember though that the money spent on medications when using GoodRx does not count toward your deductible.

It makes sense that there would be a website/app that lists the prices of medications at multiple pharmacies so patients can price shop, but what’s with these discount card prices being lower than the cash prices?

Pharmacies, in their contracts with PBMs, will not get paid more than their list price. So, to avoid missing out on money that PBMs would be perfectly willing to pay them, they make sure to set their list price (i.e., cash price) higher than what any contracted price with a PBM will be. So you should expect cash prices to always be higher than the price you’ll get by going through your insurer, although I’m sure this rule is broken sometimes. Because it’s American healthcare.

On the GoodRx website/app, the prices shown are not cash prices though. They’re the actual prices that pharmacies have contracted with PBMs. These prices vary significantly from pharmacy-PBM contract to pharmacy-PBM contract, mostly because of the complexity and sheer number of different medications that they are negotiating over, which means they cannot possibly negotiate over every individual medication, so instead they negotiate over groups of medications. This means some medications in that group will end up being cheaper than they would otherwise be, and others in that group will end up being more expensive.

This is summed up nicely in a quote by GoodRx co-founder, Doug Hirsch: “We said, let’s see if we can gather all these prices and see if we can exploit the variation in these contracts.”

But this means pharmacies are stuck selling medications to tons of people at prices that they accidentally undervalued in a negotiation with a single PBM. Sure, short of adding a gag clause to their contract, they can’t stop the PBM from sharing that price with GoodRx, but why in the world would pharmacies ever agree to let tons of other patients not even covered by that PBM walk out with a medicine for that same undervalued price?

They actually don’t have a choice. PBMs require in their contracts with pharmacies to accept the GoodRx discount card price. GoodRx does try to make pharmacies feel better about it by saying that “once patients are in the pharmacy, they are also more likely to purchase non-prescription items at the store.” Ok great, so the medication turns into a forced loss leader.

There’s one more big piece to this puzzle. Why would PBMs go along with GoodRx in the first place? Think about it from their perspective. They are angering pharmacies by forcing acceptance of GoodRx as part of their contracts, and they are the ones sharing all their contracted prices with GoodRx and then left looking bad after patients find out their PBM didn’t get the best negotiated price on a large minority of medications. In short, what’s in it for the PBMs?

Money. I suspect the PBM is getting a cut of every transaction that uses GoodRx because the PBM is the one adjudicating the claim. They’re also giving a cut of it to GoodRx as a reward for bringing them the extra claim.

PBMs and GoodRx both seem to win, as do patients if they’re finding lower prices. So if GoodRx is actually decreasing prescription spending, where is the money coming from? There’s only one party left. Pharmacies must be the ones taking the loss. I wonder if that loss-leader argument actually makes pharmacies more than they are losing on this whole venture. My suspicion is that it’s hard to prove one way or the other, but I doubt it.

Why Aren’t Prices Transparent in Healthcare?

Image credit: presentermedia.com

I had a friend ask me that (the title of the post) a few days ago. He prefaced the question by saying he’s asked a few different people and knows already that there isn’t a simple answer to it. But those other people he asked misled him. The answer actually is quite simple. And why nobody is explaining this clearly, despite all the talk about price transparency in healthcare these days, is a symptom of a general lack of understanding of how industries actually function.

Prices are transparent in healthcare–the insurer knows exactly how much they’ll pay each healthcare provider for every service they cover. The problem isn’t transparency. The problem is that the party making the decision on where to seek care is not the same party that bears the financial consequence of that decision. Who chooses where to seek care? The patient. Who bears the financial consequence of that decision? The insurer. Therein lies the rub.

Think about two different scenarios. In the first, the patient will have both responsibilities. Patients would start to actually consider whether the extra $5,000 they would have to pay to go to Provider B for their cholecystectomy would be worth it as opposed to just going to Provider A. Is Provider B’s quality actually that much better to make it worth the extra $5,000? If not, patients will probably choose Provider A. And what happens when patients all start being unwilling to pay unjustifiably high prices? Provider B will either have to lower prices (goodbye crazy price variations!) or continue to deal with a large number of unused operating room hours. Patients win because they get better value, and high-value providers win because they get patients. In this situation, the decreased expenditures on healthcare are taken from the low-value providers. Who would argue against that? In this case, even the “I’m better than the average physician” belief that 100% of physicians have (statistically impossible as it may be) will help to decrease healthcare expenditures.

This pairing of both responsibilities in patients is actually happening, by the way. Why do you think insurers are trying out reference pricing, where they just commit to put a set dollar amount toward a given procedure and have the patient cover the difference if they choose a provider who charges more than that? And what about tiered plans, where patients choosing to go to the more expensive hospitals (the ones in the higher tiers of the insurance plans) have to pay a larger copay? And what about high-deductible plans for services below the deductible? These are all doing the exact same thing but in different ways: making the person who chooses where to get care the same person who bears the financial consequences of the decision. And providers with higher value are being rewarded with increased market share (volume).

In the second scenario, the insurer will have both of those responsibilities. It’ll still bear the financial consequences, of course, but now it’ll also be the one that tells patients exactly where to go for care. Patients wouldn’t like this, of course, but what would happen? Insurers would send every patient to the cheapest provider that meets minimum quality standards. Unlikely to ever happen? For run-of-the-mill procedures, probably it won’t ever happen. But for incredibly expensive one-time procedures, it already has. I heard a story about an insurer that did this with liver transplants (which, all told, is estimated to cost over $500,000 dollars). The insurer asked around to all the reputable local hospitals and got the cheapest bid for each patient. Then they sent each patient to the lowest-bidding hospital. The insurer saved a bundle. And the hospitals that could offer lower prices (possibly because they had lower costs somehow) were rewarded with volume. Ah, that whole reward value with volume thing again. It’s beautiful.

One final real-world example. ACOs. So far, one major way they’ve saved money is by sending patients to cheaper specialists. Let’s apply the principles we’ve just talked about to understand what’s going on. The referring provider is generally the party charged with making the decision of where the patient will go for a specialist visit. (The doctor says, “You need a specialist to look at this. Here’s the phone number for a good doctor, so go see her.” The patient says, “Okay, Doc, whatever you say. I’ll go see her.”). And when the referring provider is getting a bonus for keeping overall costs down, he now also bears the financial consequence of sending patients to expensive specialists because it’ll cost him his bonus. Now that you understand the principle of those two responsibilities needing to be invested in the same party, the world starts to make sense; you start to actually be able to predict whether something will work or not.

So now when you hear people complaining about our “horrendously evil system of third-party payment,” you’ll know that it’s not intrinsically a bad thing. It’s only bad when it results in a separation of those two responsibilities, the decision-of-where-to-seek-care responsibility and the financial responsibility.