Architecting hospital care

A deep dive into designing effective hospital systems.

Architecting Healthcare from the Outside In: Why I Call Myself a Healthcare System Architect

How decades in tech, systems thinking, and a fresh perspective are my greatest assets for fixing a broken system.

For a long time, I struggled with a bit of impostor syndrome.

I’m 66 years old. I’ve been a business owner since 1996 and an embedded systems engineer who has spent a career building complex medical devices---the ultrasound systems and defibrillators used in hospitals every day. I’m an expert in systems improvement methodologies like the Theory of Constraints (TOC) and Lean.

But I’ve never worked in a hospital for 30 years. I haven’t been a healthcare administrator or a clinician.

So, when I started calling myself a “healthcare system architect,” a voice in my head would ask, “Do you really have the right?”

I’ve come to realize that my background isn’t a liability; it’s my single greatest qualification. The very thing that made me hesitant is precisely what allows me to see the solutions that others miss.

I’m not an insider, and that’s a good thing.

The Insider’s Challenge (And Why It’s a Symptom, Not a Fault)

I want to be perfectly clear: I have immense respect for the professionals who run our hospitals and care for patients. Their experience is hard-won and invaluable.

In fact, given the sheer number of deep, systemic (TOC-style) conflicts present in healthcare today, it is an absolute testament to the skill, ability, and drive of these professionals that the system works as well as it does. Incredible progress has been made, often against the friction of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

But that very experience, earned fighting fires inside a flawed system, can come at a cost. When you spend decades working around the same fundamental problems, you learn what doesn’t work, what can’t be tried, and which walls are “load-bearing.”

This “insider’s challenge” is a natural response. You become conditioned to the system’s limitations. It makes it incredibly difficult to see breakthrough solutions, not because you lack vision, but because you’ve been forced to adapt to a system that actively resists them.

An Architect’s Job is to See the Whole System

My career hasn’t been in running the hospital; it’s been in building the technology that the hospital runs on.

When you’re an embedded systems engineer for a defibrillator, you are working on the literal definition of a life-or-death system. You cannot just “fix your part.” You have to understand the entire system: the hardware, the software, the user (the paramedic or nurse), the environment (a chaotic ER or an ambulance), and the desired outcome. A 1% failure rate isn’t a rounding error; it’s a catastrophe.

This mindset---this rigorous demand for systems thinking---is what I’ve cultivated for decades.

My work in TOC and Lean expanded this view from technology to process. I learned to look at any organization---a factory, a supply chain, or a hospital---and ask:

• Where is the real constraint?
• What is the one change that would unlock the most capacity?
• How can we simplify the flow to achieve a dramatically better outcome?

This work has proven to me, time and time again, that so much more is possible than we usually conclude at first blush.

My deep dive into AI over the last 18 months was illuminating. I briefly thought about starting an AI agency, but I had no interest in managing the infrastructure for hundreds of clients. That experience wasn’t a waste; it gave me a powerful new tool for my architect’s toolkit. I now see AI not as a standalone “product” to sell, but as a new “building material” to be integrated into a larger, more intelligent system blueprint.

A Credible Reason for Hope

This brings me to why I’m so optimistic and why I focus on this work.

From my vantage point, I see so many dedicated professionals fighting battles they can’t win because the real enemy is invisible. They are caught in TOC-style conflicts that they experience every single day---conflicts that compromise performance and, more importantly, their own happiness and satisfaction.

I am moved to respond when I see them give so much, only to be burned out by a system that pits impossible choices against each other.

The hope I offer isn’t just “new technology” or “another Lean process.” The hope is a new way of seeing. It’s giving a name and a structure to these conflicts. When you have the language to describe them, you suddenly have the power to resolve them in a win-win way.

This is the core of my work as an architect. If you’ve ever felt that sense of being stuck between a rock and a hard place at work, I invite you to read some of my other articles. I break down exactly how these conflicts work and how we can begin to dissolve them.

Will You Join This Conversation?

I am always looking to connect with allies for this cause. This isn’t just “my work”; it’s a shared challenge that needs a community to solve it.

• Are you a healthcare professional who feels the friction of these system conflicts every day?
• Are you a technologist or engineer who wants to build tools that actually solve the right problems?
• Are you a systems-minded leader who is ready to build a win-win environment for your teams and patients?

If this article resonated with you, I would genuinely like to start a conversation. Please send me a connection request on LinkedIn with a note or use the contact form on my site and let’s explore how we can work together.

My Role as Architect

So, why do I call myself a healthcare system architect?

Because an architect’s job is to design the blueprint. They have to understand the materials (technology, AI), the physics (process, flow, TOC), and the needs of the inhabitants (patients and providers).

My value isn’t in knowing how things have been done. It’s in bringing the tools to design how things could be done---and helping the brilliant people already inside the system build it.