It's not every day that America finds common ground.
Yet somehow, in a divided nation, one story managed to bridge the gap: the case of Luigi Mangione, the alleged UnitedHealthcare CEO shooter.
And the ex-Ivy League student is leading the charge.
Now, let's get this straight.
I don't condone violence. And I don't support rallying for a shooter, particularly in the States where gun violence is a fixture in American life.
But it's a whole lot harder when the suspect is so babygirl.
At least, that's what the internet's saying - not me, of course.
And they (not me, remember) are advocating for this man like he's the folk hero in an anti-elitist indie film. Because well, he kind of is. In the eyes of the American public, anyway.
And the absence of sympathy for the victim tells us something massive about public perception of the U.S. healthcare system.
This story is so much more than an anti-hero's desperate actions. It's about a collective breaking point.
It's about the mounting anger at a system that feels rigged against the very people it's supposed to serve. And, surprisingly, there's a lesson buried in all this chaos-a roadmap for how healthcare companies (and really, any company in the public's crosshairs) can learn to do better.
The case revolves around Luigi Mangione, a man who allegedly took aim at a UnitedHealthcare executive, Brian Johnson last week, fatally shooting him several times from behind.
Police have not named a formal motive. However, officers found three 9mm rounds at the scene and bullet casings had the words 'deny,' 'defend' and 'depose' on them. These words echo a phrase commonly used to criticise tactics insurance companies use to reject claims.
Mangione was recognised in a McDonald's on Monday. Local police then found he had 'multiple fraudulent IDs,' a U.S. passport, a firearm and suppressor similar to what was used in the murder. He also had a 'handwritten document that speaks to both his motivation and mindset.'
A Maryland native, he has no prior arrest history in New York or elsewhere in the country. He's a graduate from the University of Pennsylvania with Bachelor's and Master's degrees in computer and information science. Mangione was valedictorian at the Gilman School, a private K-12 school in Maryland, in 2016.
Particularly when the first image of the security footage from a hostel in Lower Manhattan was released, the smiling Italian American set the internet ablaze.
Comments flooded social media. 'I can fix him,' 'bro got assassinated by a cutie-patootie,' and 'the gays are gonna carjack the prison van and take him to Puerto Vallarta' are among some of my faves.
The case tapped into something primal: the shared rage at a system so broken it feels designed to crush the average person.
The truth is, healthcare in the U.S. feels less like a service and more like a bureaucratic maze built to extract money and sanity. Denied claims, sky-high premiums, and endless red tape are daily realities for millions.
Disparities in the quality of care for racial and ethnic minorities.
Chronic diseases not being well managed.
Poor global rankings on healthcare outcomes, including infant mortality, life expectancy, and preventable mortality.
The list of issues goes on. And on. And on and on and on. The shooter's actions-while extreme-became a symbol of that frustration.
If you had to pick a poster child for 'corporate greed,' health insurance companies are top contenders.
This wasn't just a case of one man versus a faceless corporation-it felt like all of us versus a monolithic system.
There's something human about someone reaching their breaking point, even if their actions aren't justifiable. The shooter wasn't some shadowy figure. He was every person who's ever screamed into their pillow after hearing that their claim was denied for the third time.
The obvious reason being that healthcare companies lack empathy.
Their messaging is all polished commercials with happy families and generic promises of care. But real-life experiences contradict this glossy marketing. And people aren't just sceptical-they're furious.
Because broken trust runs deep.
Years of prioritising profits over patients have left these companies with a trust deficit so deep, it might as well be a bottomless pit. And this case has poured gasoline all over that fire.
Healthcare companies are supposed to be in the business of helping people. Yet their branding often feels cold and corporate, leaving them open to becoming the default villain in stories like this one.
