PDAB Chicanery: How Drug Affordability Boards Are Undermining Public Engagement

Prescription Drug Affordability Boards (PDABs) across the country are playing a dangerous game with public engagement—one where they keep changing the rules and moving the goalposts. From inadequate notice periods to last-minute document releases, these boards are creating barriers that echo troubling federal trends, effectively sidelining the very people who have the most at stake: patients.

These state-level games mirror concerning federal developments, most notably the rescinding of the Richardson Waiver by U.S. Department of Health & Human Services (HHS) Secretary Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. This action removed a 50-year precedent requiring public input on HHS rules—effectively telling patients and advocates their opinions aren't welcome at the policy table.

As these transparency rollbacks continue, people who rely on medications face increasing uncertainty about their access to life-sustaining treatments—while boards claim to represent their interests through processes that actively exclude them.

Maryland PDAB: How to Follow the Letter of the Law While Breaking Its Spirit

Maryland's Prescription Drug Affordability Board offers a master class in technical compliance that functionally blocks meaningful public participation. Their recent meeting preparation tactics exemplify how these boards can check procedural boxes while effectively sidelining patient voices.

On March 18, 2025, the Maryland PDAB posted a revised agenda for their upcoming March 24 meeting. This might seem unremarkable until you realize the public comment deadline was March 19—giving stakeholders exactly one day to review, analyze, and formulate responses to complex pharmaceutical policy documents. The revised agenda wasn't a minor update either. It contained material differences from the previous version, including a comprehensive cost review dossier for Farxiga, a medication critical for many people with diabetes and heart failure.

As CANN's letter to the board noted, "Posting the updated agenda with associated meeting materials the day before the deadline for comment is not a good faith effort in garnering public trust, nor does it display value in public input." The Maryland PDAB's approach creates a veneer of public engagement while practically guaranteeing that meaningful input will be minimal.

This pattern suggests the board views public comment as a procedural hurdle rather than a valuable source of insight. By technically fulfilling their obligation to post materials before the comment deadline (even if by mere hours), they've found a convenient loophole that undermines the very transparency standards that public notice requirements are designed to uphold.

The Maryland case isn't an anomaly. It's a symptom of a growing tendency to treat public engagement as an inconvenient formality rather than a crucial component of sound healthcare policy development.

The Federal Parallel: HHS and the Richardson Waiver

The state-level PDAB maneuvers don't exist in a vacuum. They mirror a troubling federal precedent set by HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., who recently rescinded the Richardson Waiver—a decision that effectively slams the door on patient advocacy at the federal level.

The Richardson Waiver has a 50-year history. Established in 1971, it required HHS to subject matters relating to "public property, loans, grants, benefits, or contracts" to the American Procedures Act's notice and comment rulemaking guidelines. This waiver was created specifically to ensure public voices would be heard on matters that directly affect their health and well-being.

Now, that protection is gone. The new HHS rule claims the waiver "impose[s] costs on the Department and the public, are contrary to the efficient operation of the Department, and impede the Department's flexibility to adapt quickly to legal and policy mandates." This bureaucratic language translates to a simple message: we don't care what you think.

God forbid they remember who they work for.

And the impact is far-reaching. While Medicare remains protected under separate provisions of the Medicare Act, critical programs like Medicaid, SAMHSA, and the Administration for Children and Families now operate without mandated public comment periods. Legal experts note this could allow for swift implementation of controversial measures like Medicaid work requirements without going through normal rulemaking processes.

The timing is particularly ironic given the Office of Management and Budget's recent guidance letter emphasizing the importance of "broadening public participation and community engagement" and making it "easier for the American people to share their knowledge, needs, ideas, and lived experiences to improve how government works for and with them."

This federal retreat from transparency sets a dangerous tone that state-level boards appear eager to follow.

Other State PDAB Examples: Oregon and Colorado's Concerning Patterns

Maryland isn't alone in its questionable approach to public engagement. Oregon's PDAB recently decided to include Odefsey—an antiretroviral medication for people living with HIV—on its list for cost control exploration, contradicting previous discussions to protect these medications. While they claim they might reconsider based on affordability research, this flip-flop creates unnecessary anxiety for people who depend on these treatments.

Colorado's PDAB situation is particularly egregious. Since 2023, CANN has repeatedly requested that the board consult with the state health department about rebate impacts on public health infrastructure and patient affordability—concerns echoed by the former SDAP director and PDAB members themselves.

Yet Colorado PDAB staff have consistently avoided conducting a proper fiscal impact analysis, bluntly stating "We won't be doing that" when asked directly. This refusal persisted even as formal rulemaking began, which triggers statutory requirements for analyses under Colorado's Administrative Procedure Act.

The board has repeatedly postponed its first rulemaking hearing, effectively delaying compliance with transparency requirements. Meanwhile, the Joint Budget Committee has begun questioning the PDAB's financial accountability, receiving only partial responses about consultant costs and litigation expenses.

Most concerning is the disconnect between PDAB actions and demonstrated patient benefits. A 2024 analysis of Oregon's similar program showed states would need additional funds to maintain programs under an upper payment limit system—with no meaningful patient affordability improvements identified.

Patient Impact: Why This Matters

Behind the procedural games and policy maneuvers are real people whose lives hang in the balance. The Colorado PDAB's actions exemplify how these bureaucratic decisions create genuine fear and uncertainty for people with rare diseases and conditions requiring specialized medications.

Twelve-year-old Avery Kluck lives with Aicardi syndrome and faces life-threatening seizures that have been intensifying. Her doctors recommended Sabril, a powerful anticonvulsant costing up to $10,000 per month—a medication on Colorado's PDAB radar for potential price controls.

"We're to a point now where her seizures are getting more violent, and this is our last resort," explains Heather Kluck, Avery's mother. "And now I'm finding out she may not have access to it." The family faces an impossible choice between starting a medication that might become unavailable or watching their daughter suffer.

This uncertainty isn't theoretical. At least one pharmaceutical company has already threatened to pull drugs from Colorado if price caps are imposed. For medications like Sabril, which are dangerous to discontinue abruptly, such market exits could be catastrophic.

People living with cystic fibrosis also had to mobilize to prevent Colorado's PDAB from declaring Trikafta "unaffordable," with one parent describing the experience as "torturous for our family" and another stating: "It's an experiment, and it's really gross that they're doing it on people who are really sick."

The irony is painful: boards created to increase medication access may end up restricting it for those who need it most.

Conclusion

These boards, created under the guise of helping patients afford medications, are operating in ways that actively silence patient voices. From Maryland's last-minute document dumps to Colorado's refusal to conduct impact analyses and Oregon's policy reversals on critical medications, these boards are erecting barriers that exclude the very people who will bear the consequences of their decisions.

The problems run deeper than procedural failures. The fundamental approach of PDABs—attempting to control drug prices without adequately assessing impacts on patient access—risks creating catastrophic unintended consequences for people who depend on specialized medications. Avery Kluck and others living with rare conditions don't have the luxury of waiting while boards experiment with price controls that might make their life-saving treatments unavailable.

The pattern is clear: from the federal level with RFK Jr.'s dismantling of public comment protections to state PDABs playing administrative games, we're witnessing a coordinated retreat from meaningful public engagement in healthcare policy. This isn't just bad governance—it's dangerous for patients.

States should seriously reconsider whether PDABs serve any legitimate purpose beyond political theater. At minimum, stakeholders across the healthcare spectrum must demand that these boards either implement truly transparent, patient-centered processes or acknowledge they cannot fulfill their stated mission without causing harm to the very people they claim to help.