Scott made millions as CEO of Columbia/HCA. The hospital chain founded by the Frist family (as in former Senate majority leader Bill Frist) swallowed competitors in the ’90s by dictating terms to suppliers. They’d merge with most of the hospitals in a given area, then tell vendors how much they wanted to pay for products. If a vendor balked, they simply switched to a lower bidder, leaving the first one with nobody to sell to. One of the repercussions of this strategy was the trend toward labor outsourcing by American companies, with medical product suppliers moving facilities to Mexico in order to meet pricing demands.
Columbia was found guilty in 2000 of bilking Medicare and Medicaid in a massive, concerted, company-wide fraud effort under Scott. The chain was fined $1.7 billion, the largest penalty ever, and Scott was forced to resign or face criminal charges. He soon bounced back, founding the Solantic chain of urgent care clinics, which mainly serves the uninsured. Scott and several confederates have been the big bucks behind the so-called “astroturf” (meaning it looks like grassroots but it isn’t) opposition to health care reform.
Which brings us to the ironic position in which he recently found himself at a Tea Party gathering on the campaign trail.
Removed from the small-screen medium that has rocketed him to the lead in the GOP governor’s primary, Rick Scott on Tuesday night encountered a shouting, finger-pointing demand to explain what he knew about Medicare fraud when he headed Columbia/HCA in the 1990s.
“What did you know?” a man demanded as he stood a few feet from Scott at a South Florida Tea Party gathering of about 150 at the Hagen Ranch Road Library west of Delray Beach.
Scott listened calmly and gave an answer much like the one he’s provided in TV ads discussing the $1.7 billion in fines and penalties paid by Columbia/HCA.
“People made mistakes,” Scott said. “When you’re CEO of a company, you take responsibility. Should we have had more interlocutors? You’d better believe it. And I wish we’d done it. I’ve learned a lot of lessons.”
An “interlocutor,” according to the dictionary, is someone who takes part in a dialogue or conversation and is from a Latin root meaning “to interrupt.” Scott must have been hoping the word would flummox enough tea baggers to end their criticism while at the same time saying absolutely nothing.
Despite his claims to be more vigilant and involved in his own affairs now, Scott proved that the lessons he’s learned mainly consist of how to do a better job fooling people.
Asked if any of the companies he invests in have received federal stimulus money, Scott said: “I have no idea. You know, I have a variety of investments.”
Translation: “I’m too rich to bother with such trivialities. That’s what I have accountants for.”
But point of order: “I have no idea” is the same line of defense Scott used to explain why he shouldn’t have been sent to prison for the actions his company engaged in under his direct supervision. It saved his lily white butt that time but it will only get him into the governor’s house if money really does buy elections. Unfortunately, with Florida Attorney General Bill McCollum trailing in the primary under Scott’s massive ad campaign, and weak opposition so far on the Democratic side from Florida state Financial Officer Alex Sink, it just might.
