When Doctors Stop Seeing a Future in Israel

Israel is facing the potential loss of some of its most accomplished physicians. The reasons are complex, but the consequences could affect every one of us.

There is something deeply troubling about watching good physicians leave Israel. Even more troubling is seeing an increasing number of accomplished doctors seriously consider doing so.

These are not necessarily young physicians looking for an opportunity to gain experience abroad before returning. Many are established clinicians, researchers, educators, and leaders in their fields. They have spent years building their careers, developing expertise, training the next generation of physicians, and contributing to the Israeli healthcare system. Some are among the people we rely on to provide the highest level of medical care, advance research, and educate future generations of doctors.

And yet, some are deciding that their future may lie elsewhere.

The reasons are not always the same. For some, the political situation and uncertainty about Israel’s future have become increasingly difficult to accept. For others, the decision is driven by the realities of practicing medicine here, particularly when compared with the working conditions in many western countries.

Practicing medicine in Israel can be demanding in ways that are not always visible to those outside the healthcare system. The working hours are long, compensation is often less attractive, and shortages of supporting professionals place additional demands on physicians. Nurses, radiology technicians, biomedical technicians, social workers, physiotherapists and other essential healthcare professionals are integral to modern medicine. When there are not enough of them, physicians inevitably absorb some of the burden. Medical procedures become more challenging, logistical and administrative responsibilities increase, and physicians spend more time compensating for gaps in the system and less time focusing on what they are trained to do: treating patients.

These are not new problems, and most Israeli physicians have learned to work around them. Many do so with remarkable dedication. But dedication should not be confused with an unlimited capacity to tolerate difficult working conditions.

There is another group whose situation deserves particular attention: Israeli physicians currently undertaking fellowships abroad, as well as those preparing to leave for advanced training. Many of them originally see these fellowships as temporary chapters in their careers. They leave Israel to gain experience, develop new skills, and learn from leading medical centers, with the intention of bringing that knowledge back home. But the political landscape has changed the way some of them think about their future. As their fellowships approach completion, they are increasingly asking themselves whether they should return at all. What was once a relatively straightforward decision to come back is becoming a much more difficult one. Israel risks not only losing physicians who have already established their careers, but also losing the next generation of specialists it has invested years in training.

For physicians considering leaving, the decision is rarely simple. Some have secured attractive positions abroad, with better working conditions and a clearer professional future. Others are taking considerable risks, leaving established positions and professional networks without knowing exactly what awaits them. Some may have to rebuild their careers from scratch. The fact that physicians are willing to take such risks says something about the level of frustration and uncertainty they are experiencing.

I wish they would stay. I genuinely do. But I find it difficult to judge those who decide otherwise. These are intelligent, accomplished people, often with families and children, who are trying to make decisions about their professional futures and the lives they want their children to have. It is easy to tell someone to stay out of patriotism or a sense of duty. It is considerably harder to ask them to ignore their concerns about their own future and that of their families.

I was reminded of this recently when I attended a professional course abroad. I was accompanied by a colleague; someone I respect professionally and also consider a friend. After a long day of lectures and live cases, we found ourselves relaxing in the sauna. It was there, in a conversation far removed from the lecture hall and the clinical discussions of the day, that he told me something I had not expected to hear: unless the political situation in Israel changes, he will seriously consider leaving the country.

My friend and I have different political views. We do not necessarily see the current situation, or the direction Israel should take, in the same way. But that was not the point of our conversation. His concerns were real, and I understood that his decision was not something he was considering lightly.

I kept thinking about our conversation afterward. It made me realize just how seriously people I know and respect are questioning their future in Israel.

If he leaves, Israel will lose much more than an excellent physician. It will lose a talented professional, a committed citizen, and a patriot who has much to contribute to the country and its future. His contribution to medicine extends beyond the patients he treats. It includes the colleagues he teaches, the physicians he influences, and the people who benefit from his experience and knowledge. And the loss would not be limited to the hospital. His wife and children are equally part of what Israel stands to lose. They have built their lives here, are part of the community around them, and contribute to the fabric of Israeli society. Their future, too, is tied to the future of this country.

What makes this especially important is that it should not matter whether you share his political views. It should not matter whether you agree with him on every issue, or even whether you particularly like him as a person. You should still want him here. You would want him as a fellow citizen, as a neighbour living nearby, and, most importantly, as the physician treating you or someone you love.

That is what makes the potential departure of people like him so consequential. We are not talking about an abstract loss of talent or another statistic in a report. We are talking about individuals who make a tangible difference to the lives of others.

The Israeli healthcare system is already under considerable pressure. Losing experienced physicians, researchers, and educators will not simply create vacancies that can be filled by recruiting new doctors. Experience takes years to acquire. Professional leadership, institutional knowledge, clinical judgment, and the ability to train others cannot be replaced overnight. When an accomplished physician leaves, the consequences can extend across departments, hospitals, and generations of doctors.

There is also a broader question here, one that extends beyond medicine. What kind of country are we building if people who have dedicated their lives to contributing to it begin to feel that they have no future here? What does it say about our priorities if we allow the people who strengthen our institutions to become increasingly uncertain about whether they should remain?

I am not suggesting that every physician who considers leaving should be persuaded to stay at any cost. Nor do I believe that patriotism means ignoring legitimate concerns about working conditions, professional opportunities, or the country’s political direction. People have the right to make decisions for themselves and their families, and those decisions deserve respect.

But the responsibility cannot rest solely on the shoulders of individual physicians. The government, and particularly those responsible for healthcare and national policy, must recognize what is at stake. Improving working conditions, addressing shortages of healthcare professionals, providing physicians with appropriate compensation, and creating a sense of political and professional stability are not luxuries. They are investments in the country’s future.

I chose to return to Israel after two years abroad because I believe in this country and wanted to build my future here. I understand, however, that not everyone will reach the same conclusion. And I don’t believe that asking people to stay, while ignoring the reasons they are considering leaving, is a serious answer.

I hope my colleague stays. I hope that others who are having similar conversations reconsider their decisions. Not because they owe the country an unquestioning commitment, but because Israel needs them, and because they should be able to see a future for themselves and their families here.

A country cannot afford to take its best people for granted. And the Israeli healthcare system certainly cannot afford to lose the physicians who have helped build it into what it is today.