It’s a busy Thursday lunchtime and an email drops into your inbox:
Dear Dr. (nothing — not even an attempt at a name),
We would like to invite you to attend an in-person Advisory Board meeting in Madrid on Thursday, January 29.
(It’s currently January 8, which is an impressive level of optimism.)
Schedule: travel Wednesday afternoon, dinner that evening; Advisory Board all day Thursday; home Thursday night.
(No mention of where you’re staying, how you’re getting there, or any other minor detail that might help your decision.)
You will be compensated at the prevailing fair market value rate. Reasonable travel expenses will be reimbursed; flights are economy class only.
(Which sounds reassuring, until you realize it tells you precisely nothing: what rate, for how long, what you’re doing, or what “reasonable” means on this particular planet.)
If you are available, we will share the agenda and confirm logistics.
(Translation: please commit your time, theater cover and hospital approvals first – then we’ll tell you what the meeting is actually about.)
I am exaggerating, of course. And in reality, it’s often only one of these ‘own goals’ at a time. But many readers will recognize the genre. I certainly do – I’ve seen versions of this far too often across my years in ophthalmology.
So, why does this keep happening?
Partly because this relationship sits in an awkward middle ground. Doctors are asked for expertise, judgement and credibility, yet are often approached as if their time were interchangeable. Companies are trying to move quickly, stay compliant, and involve the “right” voices, but frequently default to process rather than design. The result is rarely malice – it’s friction.
From the clinician’s side, the risks are tangible. Time away from clinic means canceled lists, complex cover arrangements, and an ever-growing paper trail of approvals. There is also reputational risk: engaging in work that feels vague or transactional can quietly erode peer trust. After receiving enough poorly thought-through invitations, the default response becomes a polite but firm no.
From the company side, the risks are different but no less real. A disengaged advisory board delivers little insight; a poorly briefed one produces noise rather than signal. When clinicians attend out of obligation, discussions become cautious and generic. Poorly designed engagements can also create compliance exposure without delivering value.
And yet, collaboration persists. Advisory boards still run. Meetings are still scheduled. Invitations still land in inboxes every Thursday lunchtime.
Which raises the more interesting question: if this model were genuinely broken, why has it survived?
The uncomfortable answer is that when collaboration works, it works very well indeed.
Industry cannot develop or responsibly introduce new technologies without clinical insight. Market research will never replace lived experience in clinic or theater. Clinicians are often the first to spot friction points, unintended consequences, training gaps, and workflow disruption – long before these surface in sales data or post-market reports.
When companies work well with doctors, they gain more than validation. They gain foresight. Early clinical input can challenge assumptions, refine design, improve education, and adjust positioning before small problems become expensive ones. In some cases, this input is the difference between a product that struggles and one that succeeds.
Clinicians also provide a vital link to the patient perspective. They see how patients respond – what reassures them, what confuses them, and where expectations are misaligned. Companies should seek direct input from patient groups too, but doctors remain a critical conduit between innovation and lived experience.
From the clinician’s point of view, the calculation is more personal. When collaboration is well run, respectful of time, and aligned with a doctor’s interests or career stage, it can be productive and rewarding – a chance to shape innovation, influence education, and contribute beyond the clinic.
The frustration arises when that potential is squandered. When engagements feel vague, transactional or disconnected from purpose, goodwill evaporates. Conversely, when collaboration is intentional, many clinicians are keen to engage because they want better tools, better data, and better outcomes for patients.
Seen this way, the “Madrid email” is not the cause; it’s the symptom – a sign that process has trumped design. The tolerance for poorly designed collaboration has collapsed – on both sides.
Both sides want the same thing: fewer meetings, better conversations, and clearer outcomes. When collaboration is designed with purpose – the right people, the right questions, and clear outputs – everything changes: invitations read differently, preparation feels worthwhile, discussion becomes candid, trust builds, and follow-up actually happens.
When it doesn’t, even well-intentioned engagement can feel hollow.
So, is it worth it?
Yes – but only when collaboration is treated as the serious, strategic work it actually is. Collaboration is not broken; it is often poorly thought through and badly planned. Until that changes, Thursday lunchtime – and every other lunchtime – invitations will continue to provoke skepticism rather than enthusiasm.
And that is simply a missed opportunity for everyone involved.
Bernie Ursell is a senior consultant in ophthalmology and medical communications with over 30 years’ experience working with clinicians, industry, and global eye-health organizations on education, engagement, and strategy. This is the first her series on how influence, creativity and collaboration really work in modern ophthalmology – and how clinicians and industry can make them more purposeful and effective.
