Yes. Whatever anyone’s intentions to establish and operate an ethical healthcare company and offer coverage in a for-profit environment, it will be quickly swamped by the need for Line to Go Up. It’s inevitable and it’s unavoidable.
Watching the reaction to the assassination of the CEO, I’m struck by the perception that the average American sees the situation pretty much backwards to reality. They look at a statistic like UHC’s rate of claim denial, much higher than the industry norm, and they assume this guy is a bad actor, that he deserved death for being a bean-counting sociopath. He may have been a friendly face at home, treating his family with warmth and generosity, but then he went to the office and he looked at spreadsheets representing thousands of suffering people and he enacted policies and practices designed to extract additional money out of those people without any consideration for their lives as individuals. Now that he’s dead, people seem to be saying, maybe they can get someone better in there, and the company can be a little less shitty.
This is delusional. It’s not this one guy, and it’s not this one company. Sure, maybe he was a little worse, maybe his company was a little nastier, but it’s the whole system. If he weren’t running UHC, a different sociopath would be in office. Now that he’s gone, the next sociopath in line will take over. Nothing will change. It’s the whole system. It’s entirely rotten.
Yet the average American seems unwilling or unable to properly grapple with that. Systemic villainy is almost impossible for people to really wrap their brains around. We prefer the personal, individual antagonist. We cheer when Robocop blasts the dastardly executive out the window of the high-rise and we leave the theater believing justice was done. Too many of us are absolutely blind to systemic injustices, distracted by stories of crime as symbolically individual acts. (This thread, I should mention, is an exception. People here do seem to see the problem pretty clearly. I’m talking about the average American who’s been propagandized and gaslit into fearing the specter of “socialized healthcare,” and who vote against reforms and support politicians who promise to “protect” American medicine from that “threat.”)
The people cheering this guy’s assassination are, in my view, wrong to do so — not because murder is or isn’t justifiable, and not because the guy was or wasn’t a problem. No, they’re wrong because the guy, individually, is largely irrelevant. He was an interchangeable CEO in a system that, from top to bottom, whether by evolution or design, grinds people into paste in pursuit of profit. Feeling positive about his murder is a distraction from that fundamental reality. That’s what I mean when I perceive the celebratory reaction as being basically backward: they applaud the individual death, but don’t go past it to really dig into the context. Yes, people hate the health insurance industry, but it’s bizarre to cheer this one guy’s murder as if it’ll make even the slightest amount of difference. Whatever symbolic positivity one might feel, the practical impact will be exactly and precisely zero.
Over the last several decades, the United States has conclusively proven that it’s grotesque, unethical, and socially damaging to allow people to enrich themselves in the field of healthcare delivery. They accumulate wealth which translates to power which allows them to skew the whole industry for the sole purpose of facilitating their ability to continue feeding like bloated ticks.
Squashing one tick is neither a triumph nor a tragedy, because the next parasitical monster will nestle comfortably into the spot he vacated. The whole thing needs to be burned down to bedrock.