In 1999, two psychologists, David Dunning and his student Justin Kruger, published a paper that demonstrated people who are really bad at something tend to believe that they are really good (J Pers Soc Psychol. 1999;77:1121-34). They also posited that most competent people underestimate their abilities while the rest of us overestimate them, and the worse we are, the more we overestimate our capabilities. In essence, they postulate that one needs a degree of skill in performing an activity in order to assess one’s aptitude. In other words, it’s impossible to tell if you are bad at something if you’re too bad to know that you’re bad.
No, I’m not writing another diatribe about cardiologists (although this surely applies to some!). Rather this is a semi-apology to the vascular fellow who I featured in my last editorial, wherein I bemoaned that the endo-revolution resulted in some younger surgeons lacking open skills. That young man is an example of a highly competent trainee who probably underestimates his abilities to perform complex open procedures. In fact, an honest self-evaluation of my own clinical experience has made me realize that there is a corollary to newly minted vascular surgeons having limited open experience … rather, that some older surgeons, well versed in open surgery, may be inexperienced in some complex endo-procedures. The implications for the practice of vascular surgery are significant and warrant discussion. Perhaps my personal experience in learning endovascular methods will be revealing.
I performed my vascular fellowship at Montefiore with Frank Veith, MD, in 1980. At the time, Dr. Veith was a principal investigator in a multicenter, randomized trial to evaluate whether PTFE could be an acceptable substitute for saphenous vein in infra-inguinal bypass. As his fellow, I gained an enormous experience in these procedures. I stayed on in academic vascular surgery for another 6years honing my techniques in other forms of open surgery. In 1986 I moved to Sarasota, Fla., to start a private practice. Here, vascular surgery was performed by general surgeons who, although competent in the vascular procedures of that time, treated most infrapopliteal disease with an amputation. My calling card was my ability to do a distal bypass. What an anachronism! Of course, I still do a fair number of tibial bypasses, but femoropopliteal bypass is almost ready for the museum. The reason is that the tidal force of the endo-tsunami had just begun to wash up on the sunny beaches of Sarasota.
While at Montefiore I had witnessed the beginning of the endovascular wave. I realized that if I didn’t learn this new technology, I might well have become a surgical dinosaur. Accordingly, soon after arriving in Sarasota, I left town to spend a week with a pioneering radiologist who allowed me to observe his team’s early experience with aortic endografts. I left my practice a second time to visit with a very busy invasive cardiologist where I had hands-on experience with balloon angioplasty and early Palmaz stents. On my return, I cautiously started performing diagnostic arteriograms in the operating room using early C-arms. Eventually, my partner, David Showalter, MD, and I convinced the hospital to outfit a room as a semi “hybrid” suite, a fixed sliding X-ray table coupled with the most advanced C-arm of the time. Over the objections of local radiologists and cardiologists, we ultimately obtained privileges to perform our endo cases in their radiology suites and cath labs. This allowed us to expand our endovascular experience, first by improving our proficiency as diagnostic arteriographers, then by advancing our angioplasty and, ultimately, stent techniques. In the interim, however, endovascular technology had flourished with the introduction of TEVAR, FEVAR, chimneys and snorkels, rotor-rooters, lasers, drills, drug-eluting balloons and stents, radial and tibial access. Unfortunately, I must not have read Dale Carnegie’s book on how to win friends and influence people since by then I had alienated some of the general surgeons and all the radiologists and cardiologists. Accordingly, we had to train ourselves on these new devices and indications. Fortunately, training programs were by then producing endo-competent vascular surgeons and we were able to incorporate, and learn from, two of these younger surgeons, Michael Lepore, MD, and Deepak Nair, MD, who had joined our practice.
I suspect that many vascular surgeons who trained in the early eighties, and perhaps even nineties, were similarly self-taught. In fact, I suggest that some program directors, who now teach endovascular procedures, also had to learn on the job. This does not imply that we are all less skilled. Rather, that our generation of vascular surgeons come to the endo table with prejudices that favor open surgery and which may prevent us from fully embracing new technologies. Further, the host of new equipment alternatives makes it almost impossible to gain a global experience unless one has an extensive clinical practice or works within a large group or academic program. Thus, if we are not exposed to these devices and are not aware of their pluses and minuses, we might not be as good at them as we think we are.
An even more unfortunate repercussion of the endo-tsunami drowning open skills of young surgeons is that it may be having a similar effect on their more senior colleagues. Surgeons over the age of 50 are now in the majority and most have appropriately embraced endovascular procedures. However, in so doing their open volume falls and their expertise in this segment of their practice must diminish. I realize that there are many surgeons of my generation who are masters of all techniques, and I applaud their resilience. However, some may need to acknowledge that they may be just a little less proficient in the operating room. Accordingly, we need to be careful not to cast too many stones at our junior colleagues.
So, there are young vascular surgeons who may have lesser open skills, older surgeons who may have lesser endo skills, and some senior surgeons who may not be totally expert at either skill. I propose that it is now up to those of you, in the middle of your careers, to make sure that you keep up with changing paradigms, never lose your hard-earned skills, teach the new graduates all you can and, even more importantly, always remain aware of your inadequacies.
Russell Samson, MD, is a physician in the practice of Sarasota Vascular Specialists and clinical professor of surgery, Florida State University, Tallahassee. He is also the medical editor of Vascular Specialist.