
Shane Strum, whom I’ve always admired, almost got away with it.
Behind the veil of “efficiency” and “collaboration,” Gov. Ron DeSantis’ former consigliere, who later became the CEO of both Broward Health and Memorial Healthcare System, attempted to engineer a quiet, calculated consolidation of power.
Critics contend Strum’s brainchild, HB 1253, would have sidestepped public scrutiny, democratic input, and even the law itself.
Strum was looking for a legislative loophole to merge Broward’s two public hospital districts.
Just don’t call it a “merger.”
No public vote. No regulatory review. No transparency. Just a quiet little bill making its way through the Capitol.
Let’s not kid ourselves. This was no less than a backdoor merger (without the word merger, of course) wrapped in enough legal gymnastics to raise the eyebrows of even the most jaded Tallahassee insider.
Thankfully, legislators — perhaps hearing an angry buzz from 450 miles to the south — did the right thing by letting this matter die silently in committee.
No hearings this year, at least.
But let’s be honest: This isn’t over.
HB 1253 would have given Broward’s two publicly funded hospital districts the power to collaborate through partnerships, ventures, or even full corporations, with no oversight. It was, in effect, a legal green light for the districts to become one operating system without triggering the legal and democratic requirements of an actual merger.
If Strum and his allies had called this what it was — a merger — state law would have required a thorough public review, and perhaps even a countywide referendum. But instead, this bill sought to create a legal loophole, allowing two government entities to operate as one while explicitly exempting them from the very laws designed to foster competition and protect taxpayers.
Imagine a private company doing this. They’d be hauled in front of regulators quicker than you can say “antitrust.”
And why the rush? Because the stakes are enormous.
South Broward taxpayers fund one of the state’s most efficient, community-focused public hospital systems. Memorial Healthcare consistently outperforms its northern counterpart in terms of finances, operations, and public trust. Meanwhile, Broward Health continues limping along under the weight of mismanagement, scandal, and a bloated tax rate.
Merging the two would mean one thing: South Broward money bails out North Broward problems. Again.
In other words, a de facto tax hike without a single resident casting a vote.
Even Memorial’s Board Chair admitted she hadn’t read the bill before it was filed. Let that sink in.
The public caught wind anyway. A Change.org petition has already garnered nearly 2,000 signatures from outraged health care workers and concerned residents.
Clearly, the people of Broward County do not want this proposal.
Here is some unsolicited (but well-earned) advice for Strum — If this plan is so good for Broward, pitch it locally. Put it out there.
Hold public hearings. Bring it to the voters — the people who fund these hospitals and trust them with their care. Anything less reeks of backroom deal-making and political arrogance.
And to legislators: Good on you for listening … this time. But if this bill resurfaces with the same tricks and loopholes next Session, remember who it truly impacts: Broward’s hospitals, funded by Broward taxpayers.
Want to consolidate public health care in Broward County? Fine. But do it the right way, with transparency, accountability, and a vote of the people.
One comment
Steve Sampier
April 27, 2025 at 3:20 pm
This article is right on target, except for one thing. The merger under Strum is already happening. He has fired and demoted staff. He is implementing the North District job descriptions and pay plan at Memorial. He has changed physician contracts. And as we speak he is redoing employee performance reviews and pay at the very end of the fiscal year. The Memorial Board blesses this takeover and all should be relieved of their duties for their incompetence.