"When the heat rises, the first thing the powerful do is hide. Not their money, not their influence — just their faces. Because if you can’t see the man pulling the strings, it’s easier to forget you’re the one hanging from them."

Look closely at the healthcare industry right now. You won’t find the smiling CEOs or their polished biographies in the spotlight anymore. Their photos are disappearing from press releases, their names quietly scrubbed from the top of company websites. Why? Because they’re scared. They know the system is rotting, and they know we’re starting to smell the decay.

But they won’t fix the rot. No, that would cost too much. Instead, they hide behind the machine they built — a labyrinth of bureaucracy, insurance codes, deductibles, and fine print so convoluted it would make Kafka blush. They pull back into the shadows, leaving front-line workers, patients, and a crumbling infrastructure to take the heat. A classic move, really. Capitalism 101.

You see, the problem isn’t a fluke. It isn’t a bug in the system. The system itself is the problem. It’s designed to squeeze you until you’re dry — your wallet, your health, your patience. Every denial of coverage, every inflated hospital bill, every impossible wait time is not a mistake. It’s the business model. And business, in the end, is about profit. Not people.

When you hear about healthcare executives being "concerned" or "troubled" by the state of things, don’t believe it for a second. They’re not scared of the suffering their system causes — they’re scared you’ll realize it’s by design. That the gears of their industry are lubricated with your desperation, your pain, your hope that maybe, just maybe, the next bill won’t break you.

And when that fear sets in, when the public outrage starts to bubble over, what do they do? They remove the pictures, scrub the statements, and issue hollow promises about "reviewing policies" or "improving accessibility." Cosmetic changes to cover up a cancer that goes straight to the bone.

They think if they hide their faces, we’ll forget who’s responsible. If they rebrand, restructure, or "recommit" to patient care, we’ll look away. But the truth is simple: they don’t want to solve the root of the problem because the root of the problem is their profit. Affordable care? Transparent pricing? Humane practices? That’s a threat to their bottom line.

In a truly just system, the goal would be healing. In theirs, the goal is billing. Patients are not people; they’re line items. Treatments are not acts of care; they’re revenue streams. And when those streams threaten to dry up, they’d rather drain every last drop from you than consider reforming the way they operate.

This is capitalism at its rawest, its most efficient. When the storm gets too fierce, the captains don’t change course — they just duck below deck and leave the crew to weather the winds. And if the ship goes down, well, they’ve already got lifeboats waiting, stocked with golden parachutes and severance packages.

So don’t expect change from the top. They’re too invested in the sickness. Their fortunes depend on it. They’ll remove their faces from the headlines, but they won’t remove the poison from the system. They’ll change the narrative, but they won’t change the numbers.

And while they’re hiding in the shadows, counting their profits, the rest of us are left to pick up the pieces — one medical bill, one denied claim, one broken body at a time.

"They fear being seen for what they are. But no amount of scrubbing will cleanse the stain of a system that profits off pain. And when they finally run out of places to hide, the reckoning won’t be kind."