When I first became a doctor, I believed knowledge would protect me — that understanding disease would somehow shield me from it.
I could outsmart the health disparities that haunted so many of my patients if I worked hard and kept pushing. Still, somewhere along the way, I realized even achievement has a cost.
The more doors I opened, the heavier the weight I carried. My blood pressure crept up, sleep became harder, and my body was tired in a way that rest couldn’t alleviate.
It wasn’t burnout, it was biology. And it forced me to confront a truth medicine doesn’t talk about enough: Black doctors are getting sick, too.
The hidden epidemic
Credit: Handout
Credit: Handout
A 2025 JAMA Internal Medicine study revealed that Black physicians die at more than twice the rate of white physicians.
Let that painful and stunning fact sink in.
The very people trained to save lives are losing their own far too soon. Black doctors are not exempt from the same inequities we work so hard to treat in others.
This isn’t just a professional concern; it’s a public health crisis.
The study found that the leading causes of death among Black physicians mirror those that devastate Black men across the nation: heart disease, cancer and complications from diabetes.
It shatters the myth that education or income can insulate us from the physiological cost of racism.
The science of weathering
Public health scholar Arline Geronimus coined the term “weathering” to describe the slow, grinding toll racism takes on the body.
It’s what happens when years of discrimination, overwork and vigilance wear down our systems — literally aging us faster from the inside out.
The field of epigenetics, which studies how life experiences influence gene expression, shows that chronic stress can leave chemical marks on DNA, altering how our bodies regulate inflammation, blood sugar and blood pressure.
For Black physicians, the irony is profound. We spend our days treating the consequences of structural racism while quietly absorbing those same harms ourselves.
The cost of striving
Black doctors navigate daily microaggressions, unequal pay, heavier mentorship expectations and a constant need to prove researchers describe this as the “cost of striving.”
The result is not just exhaustion, it’s weathering at the molecular level, leading to higher rates of hypertension, heart disease and premature death over time.
Healing in our DNA
If trauma can be inherited, so can healing.
The same science that reveals how stress scars our biology also shows that love, safety and connection can repair it.
Emotional support and a sense of belonging can help reduce inflammation and calm stress-related gene activity.
Nutrition, movement and rest all shape the body’s epigenetic landscape. Even laughter and community engagement release hormones that stabilize cardiovascular and immune function.
I noticed a shift when I finally began to slow down, to breathe, to talk honestly with others who understood this journey, to rest without guilt. My heart rate and blood pressure returned to normal.
Beyond self-care: The need for structural care
Healing can’t depend solely on individual resilience.
You can’t meditate your way out of systemic racism.
Hospitals, medical schools and health systems must finally recognize racism as a biological risk factor, as measurable and as urgent as smoking or hypertension.
That recognition should drive institutional change that includes equitable promotion policies, protected time for rest and mentorship, and environments where belonging is as valued as productivity.
This is not about comfort; it is about survival. And our healthcare institutions need to take the lead, not ignore the reality staring us all in the face.
A call to action
We cannot fix what we refuse to name. And what we are facing now is not burnout — it’s biology.
It’s the physiological cost of centuries of inequity colliding with the pressures of modern medicine. The health of Black physicians is not a niche issue; it is a pressing concern.
When the very people responsible for healing communities are being broken by the same structures that harm those communities, the entire system is diseased.
Academic institutions, hospital boards and national organizations must make this crisis a visible priority. That means funding research on physician health disparities, tracking outcomes by race and implementing evidence-based interventions that protect those at highest risk.
We have a health crisis among Black doctors. But we also have within us the knowledge, the science and the spirit to rewrite the story.
The path to healing begins not in denial, but in truth. And the truth is this: Healing Black physicians is how we start to heal medicine itself.
John H. Stewart IV, MD, MBA, FACS, is chair of the Department of Surgery at Morehouse School of Medicine.
About the Author
Keep Reading
The Latest
Featured
