Medical care is a minority shareholder in health. Most estimates put clinical care at somewhere between ten and twenty percent of what determines how long and how well a person lives. The rest is the conditions of daily life: where you live, what you earn, what you eat, how you get around, whether your housing is stable and safe, how much education you had access to, and how much chronic stress you carry.
The term of art has shifted from social determinants to social drivers, partly because "determinants" sounds like fate. These conditions are not fate. They are the accumulated result of decisions about zoning, wages, transit routes, school funding, grocery siting, and benefit eligibility — decisions that can be made differently. Calling them drivers keeps the emphasis on the fact that somebody is steering.
Housing is the clearest case. Stable, affordable, non-hazardous housing does more for asthma, lead exposure, injury, sleep, mental health, and medication adherence than most clinical interventions, and eviction is one of the more reliable predictors of a health crisis. Food is close behind: not only whether there is enough, but whether what is available and affordable within a bus ride is compatible with managing diabetes or hypertension. Transportation quietly determines whether an appointment happens at all.
Health systems have begun screening for these conditions, which is progress, and also a trap if nothing sits on the other side of the referral. Asking a patient whether they are food insecure and then handing them a photocopied list is a way of documenting a problem rather than addressing it. The more serious versions involve real partnerships with housing agencies, food organizations, and legal aid, plus payment models that let a clinic spend money on a ramp or a rent arrears payment because it prevents an admission.
These conversations follow specific drivers through to specific outcomes, with the researchers who measure them, the practitioners who work on them, and the people living inside them.