I’m going to preface this all by saying I don’t condone murder. I wrote a whole novel about the health insurance industry so people could understand the righteous anger of the chronically ill in this country without having to go and commit actual murders. Be orderly in your life so you can be revolutionary in your art, paraphrased from Flaubert and all of that. I believe that.

But for the life of me I cannot figure out how outlets like The New York Times and The Washington Post are clutching their pearls about Luigi Mangione. Have you heard—he turned away from a life of privilege! Did you know—he went to Ivy League schools! People are being so ugly on the internet (this internet?)! Get these editorial boards a fainting couch and some laudanum. Then maybe get them a clue.

They are missing the central point: real sickness doesn’t care how much money you have. Illness is a great equalizer. News flash: our healthcare system is so dysfunctional, it doesn’t even follow the rules of basic capitalism. Gasp! You can be a millionaire several times over and not have enough cash to buy your way out of a cancer diagnosis, or chronic pain, or whatever it is that ails you.

You may not remember, but I remember when the daughter of Woody Johnson, billionaire and heir to one of the largest medical companies in the world, died from complications of Type 1 diabetes. At the time I was using an insulin pump that her father’s company made. I held that irony in my hands and asked it to give me medicine.

You can’t buy your way out of this system. And I think that fact is shocking to the C-suite classes, their adherents, and their protectors.

Does the money help? Hell yes! It does! A slew of public health evidence supports that. Rich people have better health outcomes. When you’re standing in line at the pharmacy and the cashier tells you you’ve spent the total pharmaceutical benefit in the mandatory student health plan, it’s very helpful to whip out the family emergency credit card as you wipe your tears.

But money doesn’t cure it. It doesn’t take the place of doing the damn thing. You must still endure the pain, or the treatment, or the trauma of navigating a system that frankly would rather see you come off their rolls, one way or another, than provide necessary treatments. Shareholders are the true customer.

Murder is wrong; this goes without saying. So is gatekeeping the chance for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness from people simply trying to stay alive.

Let’s quit the feigned surprise. Most of us see right through it.

Food for Thought

Usually, I have a recipe for you here. And today I guess I still do, but of a different sort.

I got to see music legend Zakir Hussain perform earlier this year on his last tour with the band Shakti. I knew intellectually that this was a big deal. Five giants of world music were performing, and I was four rows back in a small venue, a church even. I was not prepared for the ecstatic experience. I was slack-jawed from the first tones of the first song and tears poured out of me for the rest of the performance. The musicians also cried throughout. It was an amazing emotional experience I will remember for the rest of my life. And count it among the luckiest of stars to have blessed me.

Hussain passed away last week, and I have been watching and listening to his music since. I like to think about the millions of people around the world doing the same thing simultaneously. Listen with me! May the new year bring you health and joy! It is well deserved.