• In the Beginning…

    I’m Reed Omary—a physician, scientist, educator, and now, planetary health entrepreneur.

    For more than 25 years, I’ve worked in academic medicine. I led a department of over 700 people, chaired a medical group with more than 2,000 clinicians, and co-led a strategic plan for a medical center with 30,000 employees.

    Reed A. Omary, M.D., M.S., is a Professor in the Department of Radiology at Vanderbilt University Medical Center (VUMC) in Nashville, Tennessee.

    It was deeply rewarding work. But during the pandemic, I felt something shift. Doing the same thing each day didn’t suit my ADHD-adjacent brain. I wanted to make a broader impact.

    Here are my goals I landed on:

    1. Thinking beyond the walls of one institution.
    2. Redefining health to include people, communities, and the planet.
    3. Leaving a legacy for my children and future grandchildren…long after I’m gone.

    This new mindset completely re-energized me. I had found my new calling: advancing the health of people and the planet. I even thought this might help spark a new kind of PCP: the planetary care physician.

    The Road (Not) Taken

    After more than a decade leading Vanderbilt’s Department of Radiology, I stepped down in summer 2023 to take a sabbatical.

    Sabbatical (noun): a rare privilege for lucky academics to step away, breathe, and learn something new.

    In taking a sabbatical, I felt equal parts lucky and restless. Reading books on climate, health, and sustainability helped, but it wasn’t enough. As an extrovert, I missed people and the joys of human connection. I also didn’t think what was already written was enough.

    So I did what scientists do: started collecting new data. Over the course of a year, I interviewed hundreds of people from all walks of life. The interviews ranged from chefs to CEOs; poets to politicians; and students to scientists.

    In essence, I became a scientist-journalist devoted to climate and health. I listened, asked questions, and tried to make sense of a system that appeared senseless.

    And I tracked everything. Every interview, every insight, and every pattern were logged into a growing spreadsheet. That spreadsheet, which I called “Discovery”, became the seed for what came next.

    The Green Leap

    By fall of 2023, it was time to share what I was learning. While I had no website or blogging experience, I launched The Green Leap, a blog about sustainable healthcare. I kicked it off with a simple statement:

    “Medicine has always been in the business of healing. Let’s now start healing the planet.”

    The blog became my public notebook—a place to clarify my thinking, share experiences, build community, and elevate new voices.

    A screenshot of reedomary.com

    Some of those voices stand out:

    Emma Rens, a top biomedical engineering student at Northwestern, wrote about surgical ecodesign at Lurie Children’s Hospital. She’s now a Fulbright Scholar in the Netherlands.

    Alex Kinnebrew, an expert in human-centered design, wrote a post comparing climate-aware clinicians to June bugs—drawn to the light.

    And then there was Liz Schumacher, CEO of Affinity Strategies and a four-time kidney transplant recipient. Her story, both personal and professional, deeply moved me. In our many conversations, Liz and I kept returning to the same point: we cannot separate environmental health from patient health.

    The Spark

    Those conversations made something clear. For all the talk about sustainable medicine, no one knew what patients really thought.

    Liz and I were confused. After all, we are all patients. And yet, patients were being left out of climate and health conversations.

    Launching Greenwell Project

    So in the summer of 2024, together with Alex Kinnebrew and Jon Henderson, we launched Greenwell Project.

    Greenwell’s mission is simple:

    To design sustainable medicine together with patients.

    We believe patients are experts in their own care.

    Patients know what matters.

    Patients spot what’s wasteful.
    Patients notice what’s broken—and where opportunities are hiding.

    Their insights, when translated by Greenwell, can unlock real value…for hospitals, suppliers, pharma, and device makers. 

    Sustainability is not just about reducing harm. It’s about designing systems that work better. Doing so leads to:

    • Better quality
    • Better outcomes
    • Stronger supply chains
    • Smarter innovation
    • Lower costs
    • Greater efficiency

    All while protecting the one planet we depend on.

    Reed Omary in Amsterdam.

    Greenwell is more than a nonprofit. We are a platform to work together with stakeholders across medicine. We are a catalyst to rethink what healthcare can be. And we are a growing community for those who know healthcare can do better.

    If this mission speaks to you, we hope that you’ll join us. We can build the future of sustainable medicine together.

    Please reach out below to get involved.

    Thanks for your time, your curiosity, and your care.

  • I. Eco-Warrior vs. Energy Vampire: A tale of two lives: impeccable green credentials at home, wanton energy consumption at work. Can one physician reconcile his hypocritical existence?

    “Like most relationships, my relationship with the environment is complicated.”

    At home I do all the things. I change all the light fixtures to LEDs, program my thermostats to the margins of comfort, replace windows, plug insulation leaks, install Energy Star appliances, turn off the lights, recycle, compost, use cloth napkins, and even drive an electric car. At home, it’s been this way for 20 years.

    At work I do nothing. Lights on, computer on, equipment on, temperature at 68F, throw everything away, and no place to recycle. It was only a few years ago when I had a “light bulb moment” and asked myself why my behavior is contextual. After all, I’m the same person wherever I am.

    II. The Price of Virtue: Domestic eco-frugality driven by personal cost savings. But altruism also plays a role. Why does this logic fail within the hospital’s walls? An exploration of misaligned incentives.

    At first, I didn’t have an answer, but as I considered my life, I came up with a few. The easiest answer for my behavior at home was money. At home I’m paying the bills, and any household efficiency directly helps my family. However, it does not explain why I recycle or compost. The other actions at home tap into my desire for efficiency, my connection to nature, and my feelings about stewardship for my children.

    So why is my behavior completely different at work? Once again, the easiest answer is about money. At work, I do not pay the bills. I’m employed by a large health system where we’ve focused on capturing market share while keeping costs down.

    Like most health systems, we work to supply materials across a massive organization and then effectively cart the waste away. And like most health systems, we have increasingly moved to adopt lower-cost single-use disposable items. To be clear: this wasn’t done with bad intentions, our industry has simply evolved over time. When I look around my hospital, we are not paying attention to saving costs and cutting waste while continuing to deliver high-quality care.

    III. Confessions of a Medical Dumpster Diver: One physician’s unorthodox approach to resource management. From scavenging expired equipment to supplying global health missions and veterinary clinics. A commentary on medical excess and the circular economy’s untapped potential.

    Most doctors’ office spaces are filled with personal items, photographs, children’s art projects, framed certificates and awards, and career mementos.

    Mine is filled with hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of expired medical equipment.

    I do not know when I started “dumpster diving” in my department. When I was younger, I looked for expired devices to practice my skills. I wanted to use them in a no-stakes situation so that they became second nature to me while performing a high-stakes interventional radiology procedure in a patient.

    “Some call me a hoarder.”

    After our stock manager caught me with my feet hanging out of a huge plastic dumpster throwing stents over my head, she now just places “the good stuff” in my office. Today, the good stuff is used for Resident Education, Global Health Missions, and by a local Veterinary Interventional Radiologist. Looking at my office has framed how I perform surgery, engage with my partners, and work with my medical supplies manager. All these expired devices add costs to medicine and society while adding volume to our landfills.

    IV. Healthcare’s Green Awakening (or Lack Thereof): The glacial pace of sustainability in medicine. A nascent movement faces institutional inertia and budgetary constraints. Can one physician’s crusade inspire systemic change and a healthier future for patients and the planet?

    My experiences coupled with conversations with other physicians, friends, and family have helped to shape my engagement in medical sustainability. I now turn off the lights in my office and power down my personal workstation at the end of the day. I have also become involved in sustainable medicine at the Departmental, Institutional, Health System, and National levels.

    Most medical organizations have only seriously considered their environmental impact within the past 5 years. As a result, there are many opportunities to cut costs, improve efficiency, decrease our carbon footprint, and improve the quality of healthcare.

    Because we have only recently begun to climb the mountain, the summit still seems far away. I’m happy to start the climb knowing that I’m unlikely to see the long-term effects of my efforts. However, I remain hopeful that future physicians will continue to work towards a sustainable future where the world and healthcare are healthier for all.

    Will you join me?

  • Medicine loves its jargon. And at academic medical centers, few terms are as loved as precision medicine.

    What exactly is precision medicine? It’s when we apply our unique genes, lifestyle, and environment to identify a therapy that’s most likely to succeed. Originally called “personalized medicine,” it has evolved to include a host of fancy tests to predict response to treatments. When the NIH launched the All of Us Research Program in 2016, the concept truly caught fire. Today, precision medicine aims to treat every patient like a bespoke suit—offering care that is perfectly fitted to each individual.

    So, why not apply this same idea to discussing climate change and planetary health? With political winds shifting like poorly tied shoelaces, it’s time we communicate differently. Enter precision communication.

    Tailoring the Message

    Just like a well-made suit fits better than one bought off the rack, precision communication fits the message to the listener. A passionate call to save the planet might excite environmental activists, but it won’t budge busy hospital administrators struggling with tight budgets and staff shortages.

    Precision communication is rooted in human-centered design—it starts with empathy. In design, we create something for a specific user, not for everyone. Similarly, our messages in sustainability should address the unique needs of healthcare workers, whose top concerns are patient outcomes, finances, efficiency, quality, innovation, managing risk, and retaining top-notch staff.

    Take a hospital administrator under constant pressure to improve patient care while cutting costs. To reach them, we must ask: how can green practices cut costs or lower risks? How will these ideas improve efficiency or quality? By speaking in practical terms, we can offer solutions that matter to them.

    A Custom-Fit Approach

    In today’s charged political climate, it’s easy to rely on grand ideas. Yet, grand calls to save the planet or fight for justice miss the mark for those juggling 100 different challenges.

    Let’s accept an unspoken tenet of modern healthcare:

    “Idealism is often traded for spreadsheets.”

    Busy professionals need clear, practical benefits, not lofty ideals.

    So, what does precision communication look like? It starts by asking, “What does my audience need most?” For some, this means lowering costs; for others, it could be improving patient safety or operations. When we address these issues, we shift sustainability from nice-to-have to must-have.

    Consider energy-efficient hospital buildings. For a facilities manager, the benefits are clear: lower utility bills and better reliability. For clinicians, well-designed buildings can mean fewer delays and more comfort for patients. By sharing these advantages, we connect green practices to the daily needs of healthcare workers.

    Sustainability: The Case for Empathy

    At its heart, precision communication starts with empathy—understanding the world from another’s point of view. Just as precision medicine tailors care to each patient, precision communication fits the unique needs of the healthcare workforce. Instead of shouting big ideas, let’s speak in ways that meet people where they are.

    Yes, our planet needs us all to act, and the challenges of climate change are huge. But when speaking to healthcare professionals, let’s focus on how sustainable practices can make their jobs easier, save money, and improve care.

    Can we change our message from “saving the planet” to “saving time, money, and lives?”

    A Call to Action

    The way ahead is clear. In a world of giant political and social shifts, our communication must evolve to meet the needs of different audiences. Precision communication isn’t about watering down our message—it’s about sharpening it. By addressing the real challenges of healthcare workers, we turn sustainability from an abstract idea into a practical tool.

    Let’s rise to the challenge by speaking directly to the needs of healthcare professionals. We can turn sustainable practices into key solutions for costs, risk, and quality.

    And it’s not only our message; how we deliver the message is just as important. As Kim Grob, communications expert and founding partner at Right On recommends, “also consider where and how to communicate–different channels and formats work better for different audiences.”

    Precision communication is not just the path forward—it’s the bridge to a greener future. Let’s build that bridge, step by step!

  • Carbon Footprints: A Guilt Trip in Disguise?

    Footprints, by their very nature, look backward. They show us where we’ve been, not where we’re going. Add “carbon” in front, and now we’re talking about emissions—what we’ve burned, consumed, or otherwise contributed to climate change.

    Some activities—say, flying across the country to discuss sustainability (mea culpa!), chowing down a 16-ounce steak, or commuting in a tank-sized truck—leave footprints the size of the Grand Canyon. Others—like cycling, choosing plant-based meals, or driving an electric vehicle—are more like tiptoeing across the planet.

    For those who love numbers, an entire ecosystem of free carbon calculators awaits. (Spoiler: Your footprint is larger than you think.) And while reducing personal emissions is undeniably a good idea, let’s not get sidetracked by guilt.

    The phrase “carbon footprint” wasn’t developed as a grassroots call to action. Instead, it was a masterclass in corporate deflection, brought to you by British Petroleum (BP). Back in the early 2000s, BP hired a PR firm to nudge the conversation away from their own vast emissions and onto individuals. Their message? “Look at your own footprint, not ours. We’ll just be over here drilling.”

    Yes, personal action matters. But fixating on footprints alone is like a business focusing solely on cutting costs instead of growing revenue. It’s playing checkers when the real game is chess. So, what if we measured climate action not just by the harm we avoid but also by the good we do? Enter: climate handprints.

    Climate Handprints: The Power of Positive Impact

    Climate handprints flip the narrative. Instead of tracking the damage we leave behind, they measure the positive impact we create—and, crucially, the ripple effect of inspiring others to act. Think of them as an active offset to your carbon footprint.

    Some climate handprint-friendly ideas:

    • Ditch the steak, inspire a friend. Encouraging plant-based eating isn’t just good for the planet—it can be a culinary adventure. Host a plant-powered dinner party. (In the American South where I live, guests will be too polite to complain.)
    • Turn commutes into community. Carpool, hop on public transport, or bike with colleagues. It’s more fun.
    • Spread the word. Speak at local events about planetary health. Libraries, community centers, and retirement homes are great places to start.
    • Gift with intention. I highly recommend cloth shopping bags. They are good for groceries, great for travel, and a subtle way to say, “I care about the planet.”

    Handprints don’t shrink footprints—they multiply impact. As the scientific work of Dr. Nicholas Christakis has shown, we are social creatures who are influenced by our social networks. One person’s climate-friendly action can influence dozens of others, triggering a cascading effect of sustainable behavior. Imagine if we applied that logic to healthcare, business, and policy. The results could be transformative.

    Call to Action: Less Guilt, More Influence

    This year, let’s rewrite the script. Instead of obsessing over individual footprints, let’s create handprints that inspire systemic change. After all, solving climate change isn’t a solo sport—it’s a team effort.

    And if we do nothing else? Just remember: BP wants us to feel bad about our footprints. The planet wants us to do something about it.