Corporate Greed (Part 6): Two sides to the story (#469)

In earlier parts of this series about corporate greed, I’ve argued that the rapid consolidation of veterinary practices into large corporate groups and private equity structures is reshaping our profession, for better and for worse.

I’ve raised concerns about transparency of ownership, pressure on clinical autonomy, and the way return-on-investment expectations can shape decision making in the consult room.

A reply to the following blog post from someone who’s worked on the corporate side gives us a chance to examine those arguments:

Corporate Greed (Part 4): The $45 billion vet med buyout. https://www.ricklecouteur.com/post/corporate-greed-part-4-the-45-billion-vet-med-buyout-467

In the interests of a balanced perspective, I have decided to share the reply here, as it adds a dimension of balance and fairness to this discussion.

The comment:

I’ve been a part of these companies. I will say we never purchased a hospital that the owner did not want to sell. More wealth has been created for practice owners than could have been created otherwise. I understand many of your points. But overall practice value and veterinary salaries have increased drastically. With larger and larger student debt burdening vet students these might be some positives to the trend you’ve written about.

My reply:

Thank you so much for taking the time to respond - especially as someone who’s been inside these companies. That perspective is incredibly valuable.

I agree with you on several key points:

• Almost every corporate acquisition begins with an owner choosing to sell.

  
  

• Many owners have realized levels of wealth that would have been very hard (or impossible) to achieve in the old, purely independent model.

  
  

• Practice values and salaries have gone up, and for new graduates carrying very heavy student debt, higher pay and benefits can feel like a lifeline.

  
  

In fact, I tried to acknowledge some of those positives in the blog - things like job security, maternity leave, sick leave, pensions, and access to technology and specialists that small practices can’t always afford.

Where I’m most worried is not so much about the owners who have already sold, but about the downstream consequences of the model that made those returns possible.

At its heart, this isn’t just a story about who bought whom, or how much money changed hands. It’s a question about what kind of profession we want to be:

Do we want veterinary medicine to be primarily shaped by people who see it as a calling, or by organizations that must, by design, prioritize growth and returns?

Most days, it feels like we’re trying to balance both - and not always successfully.

The value that’s been created for exiting owners and investors doesn’t appear from nowhere. It must be generated somehow, usually through:

• Higher prices and revenue optimization on the client side.

  
  

• Increased pressure on vets and staff to be more productive.

  
  

• A shift in who ultimately sets the priorities of the hospital.

From the outside - and increasingly from inside, if you listen to many associates - there’s concern that this can translate into:

• Subtle or overt pressure to meet revenue targets.

  
  

• Diagnostic and treatment plans nudged toward what’s best for the spreadsheet rather than the animal.

  
  

• Less time per consult and more standardization, in a profession where nuance and context really matter.

Those are the trends I’m trying to shine a light on.

On salaries, I completely agree that higher pay is desperately needed, especially with today’s student debt. The question for me isn’t Are higher salaries good? (they are) but rather:

What is funding those salaries, and is that structure sustainable and ethically acceptable for the profession?

If it’s genuine efficiencies, smarter management, and better systems, that is wonderful.

If it’s primarily higher client fees, aggressive growth expectations, and constant pressure on clinical staff, then we’re buying short-term relief at a long-term cost to trust, morale, and animal-centered decision-making.

You make another important point:

We never purchased a hospital that the owner did not want to sell.

I don’t doubt that at all. But at a system level, the menu of realistic options for many owners has shrunk. Younger vets often can’t get the financing to buy in; corporate groups can. So, while each sale is technically voluntary, the broader economic landscape nudges people toward one dominant exit route. That’s not inherently wrong, but it is worth examining if we care about diversity of ownership and local accountability.

I’m genuinely not arguing that corporate ownership is uniformly bad or that independent practice is uniformly virtuous.

I’m arguing that:

• We need far more transparency about who owns what.

  
  

• We need guardrails to protect clinical autonomy and prevent abusive financial pressures.

  
  

• We should be honest about who wins and who loses in this new landscape. Owners who sell may do extremely well. Some associates gain higher salaries, paid parental leave, or clear career ladders. Support staff may or may not see those benefits filter down. Pet owners may benefit from 24/7 care and shiny equipment - or they may face higher prices, less continuity, and a sense that veterinary medicine has become a sales process. Different corporate models distribute those gains and losses very differently, and that’s exactly why we need to talk about structure, not just outcomes.

None of this means that corporate or investor-backed practice must undermine good medicine. In theory, large organizations could use their scale to do exactly the opposite - publish clear ownership structures, hard-wire protections for clinical autonomy into contracts, support genuine spectrum-of-care approaches, and invest in staff well being beyond slogans.

Some groups claim to be doing this. If that’s true, I’d love to see those policies and outcomes in the open so the rest of the profession, and the public, can judge for themselves.

I really appreciate that you can understand many of my points while still seeing positives from your side. If you’re ever willing to share more detail - for example, how corporate owners protected (or didn’t protect) vets’ clinical autonomy, or how you balanced investor expectations with spectrum-of-care medicine, I’d genuinely value that insight. Those concrete examples are exactly what this conversation needs.

I’d extend that invitation to anyone reading this who has worked inside these systems - whether your experience has been positive, negative, or mixed.

We need more than marketing brochures and anonymous venting; we need concrete stories and, ideally, data comparing outcomes for staff, clients, and animals across different ownership models.

Thank you again for adding your voice. This is a discussion that should involve every person involved in veterinary medicine.

These are difficult questions, and it helps enormously to hear from people who’ve been in the room where the deals and policies are made. To date, the corporate side has been deafeningly quiet.

If you work in a corporate group, an independent practice, or somewhere in between, how is this landscape shaping your day-to-day decisions with animals and clients?

That’s the conversation I hope this series can keep alive.

That’s the conversation we need to have.

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