Make Health Insurance Obsolete Again
Let's dive deeper into a myth that's been sold to us for decades: health insurance isn't just necessary—it's apparently a human right. We've been conditioned to believe that without it, we're one accident away from financial ruin, and that these massive corporations are our benevolent guardians, ensuring we all get the care we deserve. But peel back the layers, and you'll see the ugly truth: health insurance companies are in the business of denial, not delivery. They're the gatekeepers profiting off our vulnerabilities, and they're a primary driver of health disparities across society while burning out the very providers who entered medicine to help people.
Health insurance isn't health care—it's often the opposite, inflating costs, denying claims, and prioritizing profits over patients. The Affordable Care Act was meant to fix things, but it handed even more power to insurers, allowing them to rake in billions while we foot the bill through skyrocketing premiums. Today, let's unpack the psychological and societal disconnect that's keeping this broken system alive, and why making health insurance obsolete could be the key to real equity and fulfillment in healthcare.
The Illusion of Necessity: From "Human Right" to Corporate Trap
Think about how we've been programmed. Politicians rally around "universal coverage" as if insurance equals access. Media headlines scream about the uninsured as societal failures, and employers dangle health benefits like golden handcuffs to keep us loyal. We've internalized this so deeply that questioning insurance feels radical, even unpatriotic. But here's the reality check: health insurance isn't a human right—affordable, quality health care is. Insurance is just a middleman, and a predatory one at that.
These companies thrive on denial. Their business model is simple: collect premiums, invest that money in the stock market, and then deny as many claims as possible to keep the profits rolling. "Medically necessary" becomes a subjective term decided by algorithms and bureaucrats who've never examined you. Got a chronic condition? Expect pre-authorizations, appeals, and delays that can turn treatable issues into crises. And if you're in a vulnerable group—low-income, minority, or rural—those denials hit harder, widening the gap in health outcomes.
Health disparities aren't accidents; they're baked into the system. Studies show that insured patients from marginalized communities still face higher rates of denied care, leading to worse outcomes in everything from maternal health to cancer survival. Why? Because insurers cherry-pick profitable procedures and populations, leaving the rest underserved. Meanwhile, the uninsured or underinsured often fare better in direct-pay models where providers can offer sliding scales or community-funded care without the red tape. It's ironic: the system designed to "protect" us is actually perpetuating inequality.
The Toll on Providers: From Healers to Bureaucrats
Now, let's talk about the other side; the healthcare providers caught in this web. Doctors, nurses, and therapists didn't go through years of grueling training to spend half their day on paperwork, fighting insurance companies for reimbursements. Yet that's the reality. Insurance dictates visit lengths (often 15 minutes or less), mandates cookie-cutter treatments, and penalizes innovative or holistic approaches that don't fit their billing codes.
This isn't just inefficient; it's soul-crushing. Burnout rates among physicians are at all-time highs, with surveys showing that administrative burdens from insurance are a top culprit. Providers report feeling like cogs in a machine, unable to build meaningful relationships with patients or practice medicine the way they envisioned. Career happiness plummets, leading to early retirements, shortages in key specialties, and a ripple effect on care quality. When healers are unhappy, patients suffer.
As someone who's opted out of this madness, I can tell you firsthand: working directly with patients restores the joy in medicine. No more haggling over codes or fearing audits. Instead, it's about collaboration, extended visits, and tailored plans that address root causes. Providers in direct primary care models report higher satisfaction, lower overhead, and better patient outcomes.
Breaking Free: A Path to True Health Equity
So, how do we make health insurance obsolete again? It starts with awareness. Recognize that you've been sold a bill of goods. Insurance isn't your savior; it's often your obstacle. Redirect those premium dollars into health savings accounts, community health funds, or direct relationships with providers who prioritize you over profits.
One innovative alternative that's gaining traction is CrowdHealth (crowdhealth.com), a crowdfunding-based health sharing community that's flipping the script on traditional coverage. For a low monthly membership starting at around $50, you join a network of like-minded people who pool resources to cover each other's medical bills—everything from routine checkups and emergency room visits to chemotherapy, surgeries, chronic condition management, and even at-home childbirth. Unlike insurance, there's no restrictive network; you choose your provider and the care you want, without worrying about pre-authorizations or denials.
Here's the game-changer: CrowdHealth negotiates prices directly with providers on your behalf, slashing those inflated insurance-era rates by up to 50% or more. When you incur a bill, you share it through their app, and the community crowdsources the funding—up to $1 million per household annually—while you handle the first $500 as your "share." Pre-existing conditions are covered after a short waiting period, and they throw in perks like telehealth access and bill advocacy. It's not insurance (so no legal guarantees), but members report massive savings—over $1 billion collectively as of 2025—and the freedom to focus on healing, not hurdles. If you're ready to escape the denial machine, this is a practical, community-driven step toward real affordability and choice.