In health insurance, credit, and employment, private actors mine ZIP codes, prescription histories, résumé gaps, and spending habits to assign risk and deny access—often through algorithms that are neither visible nor accountable.
As long as profits depend on refusing “expensive” or “unusual” cases, institutions will always find new proxies and new data points for exclusion.
The more granular the surveillance gets as a comsequence, the more people are quietly shut out before they even know the rules.
Data-driven gatekeeping defines the injustice of the present era.
The result is a society where risk is atomized and cost is offloaded: people skip routine care, avoid seeking loans, or self-censor their ambitions, all out of fear that one mistake, or one misread data point, will brand them for years. This isn’t a hypothetical—this is how the system functions by design.
Universal pooling is the only proven way to break this cycle.
When every resident contributes to a single public fund and draws from it as needed, there is no profit in cherry-picking the healthy, the wealthy, or the “ideal” applicant.
This is the model behind Taiwan’s National Health Insurance. After 1995, Taiwan rapidly achieved near-total coverage, erasing previous disparities and making residency and age the only criteria for care. Studies document significant increases in access and high satisfaction—administrative overhead is dramatically lower than in fragmented, private insurance markets. Similarly, in Canada’s single-payer provinces, nearly all public health dollars go to direct care rather than underwriting or administrative bureaucracy. Administrative spending in Canada is consistently lower than in the U.S.—by as much as half. What matters is that risk selection is functionally eliminated and preexisting conditions no longer bar anyone from the system.
Hybrid systems, like Switzerland’s, show what happens when universality is compromised. Despite mandatory basic coverage, risk selection creeps back in through deductibles, co-pays, and optional plan upgrades. As long as part of the system operates for profit and retains risk, the logic of segmentation—of searching for data proxies—returns.
Incremental reforms do not fix the underlying incentive. Banning ZIP-code redlining, for example, only prompts insurers to switch to other variables like utility-bill payment or credit-card usage. “Fairness” mandates and transparency rules are routinely gamed or circumvented. Most so-called “score reviews” end with the same automated denials; seeing your score means little if there’s no real path to challenge the model. And when payday loan rates are capped, exclusionary practices simply shift to new, less-regulated corners of the market.
Universal provision changes the incentives at the root. In Taiwan, after the shift to a universal pool, entry was no longer dependent on hidden scores or surcharges. The critical effect was that coverage became a default, not a privilege. In Canada, early access to primary care and a decoupling of employment from coverage have steadily reduced avoidable hospitalizations and improved public trust, even as wait times for some elective procedures remain a challenge.
Universal models redirect resources away from exclusion and into service. Lower administrative costs and less time spent fighting denials mean more resources for providers, care navigators, and community outreach. The contrast is visible in U.S. states that expanded Medicaid: hospitals faced lower uncompensated care costs, freeing funds for prevention and outreach, even if the system remains imperfect.
Crucially, universality breaks the chain where a single denial can haunt someone for years. Under patchwork systems, a loan denial, mortgage rejection, or insurance lapse can cascade into higher premiums and barriers across sectors. Universal models break this logic—once you’re in, a short-term setback doesn’t shadow you indefinitely. In practice, the stigma and shame of asking for help are reduced, and people trust the system enough to seek care or credit before a crisis hits.
Edge-Case Medicine: How Profit Logic Treats Life as Waste
Capitalism doesn’t just cut corners—it cuts people out. When “efficiency” becomes the only metric, anything that slows the system—complexity, ambiguity, difference—is branded as waste. In American healthcare that waste is measured not in dollars but in human suffering.
Skeptics argue that universal provision brings new problems—wait times, provider shortages, or bureaucratic opacity. But comparative evidence from Germany, France, and Canada suggests otherwise. Where funding follows patient outcomes and real-time data highlight bottlenecks, health systems can adapt quickly; Alberta’s team-based models and rural incentives have reduced physician shortages and burnout, though not to the exact percentages sometimes cited. And while no system is immune to opacity, countries like Germany have begun public algorithm audits and community oversight, making exclusion harder to hide.
As long as part of the system operates for profit and retains risk, the logic of segmentation—of searching for data proxies—returns.
For universal provision to succeed and stay accountable, three guardrails are essential.
Data collection should be strictly limited to what’s necessary—name, date of birth, proof of residency. Strong privacy laws in several states and countries have reduced insurers’ third-party data purchases dramatically.
Second, proxy hunting and public audit registries are needed to catch covert risk factors; where transparency and enforcement are strong, hidden surcharges and discriminatory practices decline.
Third, every denial should require human sign-off, not just an algorithmic veto—recent regulation in Germany, and New York City’s law requiring bias audits for automated résumé screening, show how oversight can make exclusion harder to sustain.
Universal pooling is not a fantasy; it is already happening where political will exists. In 2025, California and Washington expanded public option plans, and early data show significant enrollment and downward pressure on private premiums, though detailed enrollment figures are still emerging. Chicago’s public microloan program, launched in 2021, reports strong repayment rates—consistent with national SBA microloan default rates under 3%—and has pressured local banks to improve terms. New York’s Ban-the-Bot ordinance has forced algorithmic screening tools into the open; while direct evidence of improved callback rates remains limited, the law marks a real step toward transparency and oversight.
None of these advances require new technology—they require a new social contract. Treat health care, credit, and work as rights rather than commodities. Make risk collective rather than a tool for exclusion. Bulldoze the maze, don’t just rearrange the walls. Once exclusion stops paying, gatekeeping disappears. The result is not just less data-mining, but a new baseline for fairness and social trust. Abolish the gatekeepers, and the shadow profiles vanish with them.
On Decommodification
Decommodification is the process of removing basic human needs from the control of market forces. In our current system, essential goods like healthcare, housing, and education are treated as commodities—things you must buy if you can afford them. The commodification of these needs leaves millions of people excluded or inadequately served, simply because they cannot pay. This creates an unjust society where inequality is built into the very structure of how people access the basics of life.