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Discrimination against physicians in healthcare: A qualitative systematic review

This qualitative systematic review of 125 studies reveals that physicians frequently encounter intersecting forms of discrimination from patients, colleagues, and institutions, which significantly harms their well-being and patient care quality while often remaining unreported due to fear and institutional barriers.

Original authors: Kevin T.J. Dzi, Cecile Jaques, Brenda Bogaert, Kristina Wurth, Chiara Achangwa, Patrick Bodenmann, Ralf Jox

Published 2026-10-23
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Original authors: Kevin T.J. Dzi, Cecile Jaques, Brenda Bogaert, Kristina Wurth, Chiara Achangwa, Patrick Bodenmann, Ralf Jox

Original paper licensed under CC BY 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/). ✨ This is an AI-generated explanation of the paper below. It is not written or endorsed by the authors. For technical accuracy, refer to the original paper. Read full disclaimer

In the public imagination, the doctor is often the figure of absolute authority, the calm expert who holds the keys to health and the power to command a room. We tend to assume that the people who heal us are shielded from the very human frailties of bias and prejudice that affect everyone else. However, the reality inside hospital corridors and clinics is far more complex. Discrimination, the unfair treatment of someone based on who they are rather than what they can do, is a well-documented problem for patients seeking care. But a growing body of evidence suggests that the people providing that care are also targets. When a physician is judged not by their medical skill but by their gender, the color of their skin, their accent, or their age, it creates a toxic environment that harms the doctor and, inevitably, the patient. Understanding this dynamic is crucial because a doctor who is constantly fighting to be seen as competent cannot focus entirely on healing.

A team of researchers set out to map the full landscape of this hidden struggle. They did not look at statistics or survey numbers; instead, they gathered the raw, spoken stories of doctors themselves. By collecting and analyzing 125 different studies from around the world, they created a comprehensive picture of what it feels like to be a physician facing discrimination. Their work reveals that this is not a rare occurrence limited to a few bad apples, but a systemic issue that touches doctors of all backgrounds, though it hits certain groups—particularly women, people of color, and those training to become doctors—much harder. The researchers found that these experiences are not just isolated insults; they are woven into the daily fabric of medical life, coming from patients, from colleagues, and even from the institutions that employ the doctors.

The most striking discovery is that discrimination rarely happens in a single, simple form. Instead, it often overlaps, creating a heavy burden for those who face it from multiple angles. A female doctor who is also a person of color, for instance, might be treated as less competent than her male counterparts while also having her nationality questioned. The study details how these biases manifest in subtle, often painful ways. Female physicians frequently report being mistaken for nurses or assistants, having their orders ignored by staff, or being asked to justify basic medical decisions in ways their male colleagues never are. Similarly, doctors with darker skin tones or those who trained in other countries often face a constant need to prove their worth. They describe patients refusing their care, colleagues doubting their credentials, and the exhausting mental effort required to simply be believed. Even the language a doctor speaks can become a weapon; those with accents are sometimes told they are difficult to understand or are surprised when they speak fluent English, as if their education is suspect.

Beyond these identity-based slights, the review uncovered a pervasive culture of bullying and harassment that undermines the safety of the workplace. This ranges from sexual harassment, which is disproportionately directed at women, to verbal abuse and humiliation from senior staff toward junior trainees. The hierarchy of medicine, where senior doctors hold immense power over the careers of those below them, often allows this behavior to continue unchecked. Many doctors, especially those early in their careers, feel they cannot speak up for fear of losing their jobs or their future. This silence is reinforced by a lack of trust in the system; when doctors do report these incidents, they often find that nothing happens, or worse, they are blamed for being too sensitive. The result is a "culture of silence" where discrimination is treated as an unspoken rule of the profession rather than a violation of it.

The human cost of this environment is severe. The researchers found that constant exposure to discrimination leads to deep emotional exhaustion, anxiety, and burnout. Doctors describe feeling a profound sense of shame and isolation, which spills over into their personal lives, affecting their sleep, their relationships, and their desire to continue working. Perhaps most concerning is the impact on patient care. When a doctor is distracted by the need to defend their own dignity, or when they are forced to leave a job because of a hostile environment, the quality of care for everyone suffers. In some cases, the breakdown of trust between a doctor and a patient leads to the doctor refusing to treat a patient who has been abusive, creating a cycle where the most vulnerable patients are left without care.

Despite the grim picture, the study also highlights how doctors survive and resist. They develop a wide range of coping strategies, from ignoring the insults and changing their appearance to fit in, to actively confronting the behavior or documenting it for the record. Some find strength in solidarity, with colleagues stepping in to support one another when an incident occurs. The researchers emphasize that while individual resilience is important, the solution cannot rest solely on the shoulders of the victims. They argue that medical institutions must take responsibility by creating clear, safe reporting systems, enforcing zero-tolerance policies, and actively working to diversify their leadership. The path forward requires a shift in culture, one where the humanity of the healer is recognized and protected, ensuring that the people who care for us are not forced to fight for their own right to be there.

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