Deep Trust

How One Swiss Doctor Revived a Village Without Healthcare for Years

It's just after seven in the morning. Benjamin Stettler-Gruntz is preparing the most important machine in his practice: the coffee maker. "I think it's odd if only I drink coffee," he says with a smile. "Patients get some too, if they want."

Every twenty minutes, new people walk through the practice door, each with different concerns. Stettler-Gruntz removes a mole, checks blood pressure, listens to lungs, and makes house calls at a nursing home. Some of his patients, he addresses by their first names.

This closeness to people and the variety in his daily work are his greatest motivations. In the city, he says, you're often anonymous, but here in the village, he knows the family stories behind the diagnoses. "It's a privilege when people trust you so deeply."

Move faster, make time for more

The young family doctor hurries through the practice at a brisk pace. "I learned that from my father," he explains. "If you move faster, you have more time for other things." Time is his most precious resource these days. He recently became a father for the third time—his wife, Katharina, who normally co-runs the practice with him, is on maternity leave.

Even though Stettler-Gruntz often works twelve-hour days, he has never regretted taking the leap into self-employment. Moving to the countryside was also the right decision for the couple. For Katharina Stettler-Gruntz, the quality of life here is far higher than in the city—she's happy to accept a lower salary in exchange.

Only Possible Together

Before the doctor couple opened their practice about a year ago, the village had gone four years without a single physician.

Benjamin and Katharina Stettler-Gruntz run the practice as a team. "I would never have done this without Beni," Katharina admits. "I don't know anyone our age who would take on something like this alone anymore." Sharing complex cases and dividing the administrative workload—he handles finances, she manages staff—makes their model sustainable for the future.

A System at Its Limits

Experts have been warning for years: a wave of retirements will push primary healthcare to the brink over the next decade.

The University of Basel's Workforce Study 2025 lays out the scale of the challenge: by 2030, roughly 22 percent of family doctors will need to be replaced; by 2035, that figure rises to around 40 percent. The system's current stability is partly thanks to older physicians—13 percent of primary care providers are already working past retirement age just to keep their practices running.

City vs. Countryside

The shortage of family doctors is especially acute in rural areas. Federal statistics reveal a stark divide: in cities, there is roughly one full-time primary care physician per 1,000 residents. In the countryside, the ratio drops to just 0.4.

A Changing Profession

Several factors explain why rural family practices are disappearing. The traditional image of the country doctor—solely responsible for everything, day and night—no longer fits modern life plans. Younger physicians prioritize part-time options, teamwork, and better work-life balance. Additionally, starting a practice is expensive: opening or taking over a clinic requires both courage and capital. The Stettler-Gruntzes invested around 250,000 Swiss francs in theirs.

In the afternoon, Stettler-Gruntz drives twenty minutes up the mountain to visit an elderly patient who can no longer make the trip to the village. Financially, he admits, it barely pays off—a house call earns him just 116 francs. But, he adds, "Maybe I just enjoy it, and that makes it worth it."

At the top, he examines Sepp's knee—the joint is fine, but something else concerns him: "Your heart rate is too fast. I think it's best if you come with me." Moments later, Sepp is in the passenger seat, and back at the practice, he's hooked up to an ECG.

On Their Own

In a hospital or group practice, the next specialist is often just a door away—but in rural areas, doctors are frequently left to their own devices. The freedom to make decisions independently becomes their greatest challenge.

Stettler-Gruntz is unsure about Sepp's heart condition. He calls a trusted specialist colleague to discuss the case. "It's great to have colleagues you can call for advice. It makes a huge difference in day-to-day work." At 7 p.m., he shuts down his computer and rushes out of the office at a jog—heading home to his family as fast as he can.