Pissy and I call this "The Dark Side." And, unfortunately, it's a growing trend in medicine.
Insurance reimbursements dwindle, and so doctors try to find "alternative revenue" streams. Sometime they aren't a bad idea, but other times they're simply unnecessary tests and/or ineffective treatments done solely to increase profits. The worst are where they involve an invasive, potentially hazardous, procedure that has no proven benefit. Pointless biopsies that won't change a treatment plan, gadgets to relieve pain that aren't statistically superior to placebo, supplements sold at the front counter with extravagant claims to cure Alzheimer's, and other horseshit.
Doctors who do this likely start out as well-intentioned, and end up on a slippery slope. As the revenue stream increases they get greedy, adding more and more bells and whistles to the practice- at the cost of patient care. Like Anakin Skywalker, they become seduced by the Dark Side, needing to keep expanding their practice away from what's best for the patient.
Of course, they won't admit that. To them the new laser-magneto-hydrological thingamajig they put in to cure chronic halitosis at $100 a pop is medically necessary. It's not covered by any insurance, or even mentioned in any reputable publications, but the company that sells it has infomercials on TV and glossy booklets for the waiting room. Likewise, there are some procedures that are covered by insurance but have no real medical evidence to support them. And they're also done purely for profit.
Years of moving in that direction have convinced the doctors involved that these things are the standard of care. Like Darth Vader, once you cross the line there's no going back.
I get calls from companies selling this stuff, too. Usually Mary filters them out, but occasionally they reach me. Or fly in under the radar by claiming to be a drug rep. They show me graphs of start-up costs and how much money I can make (usually insane amounts, like $100K per month, with an asterisk noting that's only if you see patients 24/7).
I try to be polite, but in my mind I hear them speaking in a deep voice through slow, heavy, respirations, asking me to join them on the Dark Side,
Luke tossed his lightsaber aside and walked away. I just thank them and head back to my desk. I may not be getting rich, but at least after 15 years of this I can still face myself in the mirror and believe I'm doing what's right for my patients.