
Scores, if not hundreds, of Sandy’s colleagues would have been honored to write this memorial. All would be very saddened to mark his untimely death at 72 years old, when he was just as active as a leader, researcher, teacher, and mentor as he had been earlier in his career.
J. Sanford Schwartz was a truly unique individual to whom people were immediately, and perhaps counterintuitively, attracted. When I say “counterintuitively attracted,” I mean that one could listen to Sandy’s comment after a presentation at a meeting and not quite get it. He was the guy dressed in blue jeans, an open collar shirt, and a slightly rumpled blue blazer. One might have wondered why he didn’t simply wear a suit and tie or even have been puzzled by his “signature” mannerisms such as walking around the room when everyone else was patiently sitting and listening. But then, one could not help but notice how people listened carefully to everything he had to say, how many respected individuals made positive comments about him, and how young colleagues crowded around him at the coffee break. Perhaps more importantly, when reflecting on what he had said, one readily found his contributions insightful, helpful, and framed in original and creative ways.
There was no one else quite like Sandy Schwartz. Those who were fortunate to become his friend knew he would be there for them in every way. His rolodex was massive. He knew virtually everyone and had endless professional contacts. He was anxious to help make things happen for others and for their benefit and never asked or expected anything in return. Beyond professional aspects, he was interested in others as individuals, in their families, and their interests. He enjoyed spending time with others, having coffee or dinner, really getting to know them, and likewise sharing all of who he was with them. He was truly a special individual. He was very smart, funny, warm, thoughtful, idiosyncratic, and delightfully personable.
As one of the early pioneers in clinically oriented health services research and academic general internal medicine, Sandy focused on the assessment of medical interventions and practices, medical decision making, and the adoption and diffusion of innovative medical technologies. Although he was an expert in, and deeply devoted to, the further development and promotion of these fields, he also saw clearly the “big picture” of academic medicine, understood the contributions that the various sectors of medical research were making, and valued them all for the role that they collectively play in informing clinical decisions and improving the health of patients and the population, writ large. He was just as enthusiastic about an important finding from the basic science laboratory as he was about evidence from a definitive pragmatic clinical trial that provided support for the use and insurance coverage of a new drug or device, a “big data” machine learning project to identify new markers for the early diagnosis of cancer, or a decision analytic model used to calculate the cost effectiveness of a new imaging test for coronary artery disease. As an example of his ecumenical views and personal standing throughout medical science, Sandy was the only person I know of who was elected president of both the American Federation for Clinical Research and the Society for Medical Decision Making. The former is the society that recognizes the best and brightest young biomedical researchers from throughout academic medicine including a majority from the wet labs of the basic sciences. The latter is comprised mostly of public health professionals, epidemiologists, decisions scientists, biostatisticians, and health economists. He was one of the few individuals who could and would assess contributions throughout all medical science for their value and what they brought to the table of improving health. He loved it all.
Sandy was the founding director of the American College of Physicians’ Clinical Efficacy Assessment Project and served as an advisor and consultant to a wide range of groups in the public and private sectors. He was recognized for his many contributions and leadership by being elected to the National Academy of Medicine (NAM) relatively early in his career and served as a long-term member and vice chair of its council. I think he was most enthusiastic about the NAM because he viewed it as a conduit through which medical science really worked to inform public policy.
Sandy Schwartz graduated from the University of Rochester with a bachelor’s degree in history in 1970, having been elected president of the student body. He went from there to medical school at the University of Pennsylvania (Penn) where he graduated in 1974 and completed a residency in medicine at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania three years later. After a Robert Wood Johnson (RWJ) clinical scholars fellowship, Sandy became the quintessential good faculty citizen at Penn. He went through all the academic steps from instructor to full professor in both the School of Medicine and the Wharton School of Business. From 1989 to 1998, he served as executive director of Wharton’s Leonard Davis Institute of Health Economics and co-director of Penn’s RWJ Clinical Scholars Program. Over the years, he received numerous honors and awards, including the Christian R. and Mary F. Lindback Award for Distinguished Teaching. He was named the first Leon Hess Endowed Professor in Internal Medicine in 2007, recognizing his “innovation and determination.” He served on Faculty Senate and University Council committees and spoke in classrooms and on panels frequently around Penn. In addition, Sandy and his wife, Sue, moved into Ware College House, one of the undergraduate residential colleges at Penn, for several years where he became the faculty director. Together, they created a home away from home for many undergraduates. He was a treasured mentor to many and a valued colleague and friend to even more.
Sandy was a true family man. He was a loving husband to Sue, who was his best partner, and a wonderful and involved father and grandfather. I know of no one who invited more friends, colleagues, and mentees to visit his home, have a meal, stay overnight, and get to know members of his very interesting and loving family.
Alvin I. Mushlin, MD, ScM
