Yes, in August 2025, Nestlé’s CEO was sacked for an “undisclosed romantic relationship” with a subordinate. And honestly, it’s refreshing to see Nestlé finally fire someone for something. It’s just… hilarious that this is the hill they chose to die on.
Nestlé’s Resume of Horror (That Didn’t Get Anyone Fired)
Baby Formula Scandal (1970s–now): Misled poor mothers into abandoning breastfeeding. Result: diluted formula, malnutrition, infant deaths. Response? Global outrage, boycotts… but not a single exec ousted.
Child Labor in Cocoa Farms (2000s–now): Lawsuits, exposés, NGOs pointing at child slavery. Nestlé promised fixes year after year. Still happening. Executives? Kept their jobs, kept their bonuses.
Water Theft in California (2010s): Pumped water from drought zones with expired permits. Sold it back at 300,000% markup. Public fury. Executives? Untouched.
But romance in the office? Good heavens, no! Out comes the guillotine.
Corporate Morality, Nestlé-Style
Apparently Nestlé can shrug off:
Exploiting children.
Starving infants.
Depleting ecosystems.
Lying about contamination.
But if you dare to mix business with pleasure, that’s the real crime. That’s the one that “damages trust.”
This is the corporate equivalent of Hannibal Lecter being acquitted of cannibalism but jailed for jaywalking.
Why? Because PR > People
The truth is, scandals don’t get you fired at Nestlé. Bad optics do. Exploiting kids? Complex issue. Killing babies? “A matter of perspective.” Water theft? “Debatable.” But a consensual workplace romance? That’s messy, public, and can’t be spun into a sustainability campaign.
So out goes the CEO. Not for crimes against humanity. Not for corruption. But for love.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is Nestlé in a nutshell:
A company that can survive boycotts, lawsuits, and moral outrage for decades.
But can’t survive a human relationship without hitting the eject button.
Because at Nestlé, water, forests, and children are all negotiable. But HR paperwork? That’s sacred.
A tree is worth more dead than alive. A river is worth more bottled than flowing. A human is worth more as data than as flesh.
This is the arithmetic of a world that worships money.
We forget: money was not discovered like fire. It was invented, like a story. A story that once helped us trade and trust. But somewhere, we stopped treating it as a tool and crowned it as a god.
Now the god demands sacrifice.
Governments poison their people in the name of “growth.” Corporations shred forests for quarterly returns. Investors cheer layoffs as “efficiency.” Wars ignite not for survival, but because destruction is profitable.
We invented money then decided it was worth more than people. More than peace. More than the planet that sustains us.
Look closer: this logic is everywhere. A hospital measured not by how many lives it saves, but by its balance sheet. An education system where children are “cost centers” unless they can be monetized. Even friendships bent into “networks,” even love recast as “investments.”
When money is sacred, everything without a price tag is dismissed as worthless. Peace is too fragile for markets. The planet too slow for quarterly reports. People too alive to be reduced to numbers yet reduced we are.
And the tragedy is not just ecological or political. It is spiritual. We are the only species that created a story, then chose to live and die by it.
But stories can change.
So the question is not whether we need money. The question is how long we will kneel before it. How long we will trade forests for figures, silence for dividends, futures for balance sheets.
Because in the end, money is only ink and code. A ghost we agreed to believe in. The real question the one that should keep us awake is this:
How long before our own invention decides that none of us are worth anything at all?
The shocking arrest of Luigi Mangione, a privileged Ivy League graduate, for the murder of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson has sparked outrage and reflection. Mangione’s alleged crime, coupled with a handwritten manifesto railing against corporate greed in healthcare, has shone a harsh light on a global issue: the rising influence of profit-driven practices in systems meant to prioritize people.
While Mangione’s actions are indefensible, the frustration expressed in his manifesto taps into widespread discontent. The healthcare systems in both the United States and Europe are under immense strain, grappling with workforce shortages, rising costs, and increasing privatization—all exacerbated by corporate profit motives.
Healthcare in the United States: A System Designed for Profit
In the U.S., healthcare has long been a business first and a public service second. UnitedHealthcare, the nation’s largest health insurer, epitomizes this dynamic, reporting revenues of over $324 billion in 2023. Yet, many Americans face insurmountable costs for basic medical care, opaque billing practices, and denied claims.
Mangione’s manifesto reportedly condemned this disparity, accusing companies like UnitedHealthcare of exploiting patients for profit. He highlighted how corporate revenues soar while life expectancy in America stagnates—a sobering indictment of a system that prioritizes shareholders over human lives.
This profit-first model isn’t just failing patients—it’s breeding resentment. Public frustration with the healthcare system has reached a boiling point, with many questioning whether it can ever serve its people equitably while remaining tethered to corporate interests.
In Europe, healthcare systems are largely public and universal, but they are not immune to the pressures of privatization and economic strain
Reports from the OECD and WHO reveal that European health systems are grappling with aging populations, workforce shortages, and underfunding, leading to a gradual creep of privatization.
Privatization in the UK: The National Health Service (NHS), once a hallmark of universal healthcare, has increasingly outsourced services to private contractors. Between 2009 and 2016, spending on private-sector services nearly doubled, fueling concerns about a two-tier healthcare system where access depends on wealth.
These challenges, while different from those in the U.S., reflect a similar pattern: the prioritization of profit over public well-being, even in systems designed to be equitable.
A Tale of Two Systems
The contrast between the U.S. and Europe offers key insights into the global healthcare crisis:
The U.S.: A predominantly private, profit-driven model that leaves millions underinsured and financially burdened.
Europe: Public systems struggling to maintain universal access amid privatization pressures and funding gaps.
Both models face public dissatisfaction. In the U.S., the outrage centers on unaffordable care. In Europe, the fear is that privatization will erode the equity that has long defined its public systems.
The Role of Corporate Greed
Healthcare’s challenges are rooted in a broader issue: corporate greed. Whether it’s insurers denying claims, pharmaceutical companies inflating drug prices, or private providers prioritizing wealthy clients, the pursuit of profit undermines the ethical foundation of healthcare.
Mangione’s alleged manifesto, though extreme, echoes a sentiment shared by millions: corporations have become “parasites,” exploiting essential systems for financial gain. This frustration isn’t just theoretical—it’s deeply personal for those who can’t afford life-saving treatments or face endless bureaucracy to access basic care.
Lessons from Mangione’s Case
Mangione’s story is more than a headline; it’s a cautionary tale about the consequences of systemic inequities. His privileged background challenges stereotypes about radicalization, showing how frustration with corporate exploitation transcends class and education.
It also underscores the urgent need to address public grievances before they manifest in destructive ways. While his actions cannot be justified, the conditions that foster such despair demand our attention.
Healthcare systems on both sides of the Atlantic are at a crossroads
To restore trust and equity, governments and corporations must act decisively:
Hold Corporations Accountable: Healthcare providers must prioritize ethical practices and transparency over profits.
Reinvest in Public Systems: European nations must resist privatization and strengthen their public healthcare infrastructures.
Regulate Drug Pricing: Both the U.S. and Europe need stricter controls to ensure life-saving medications are affordable and accessible.
The strength of a nation is measured not by its wealth, but by its ability to care for its people. When we allow profit to eclipse compassion, we betray our shared humanity.
Health A Global Reckoning
The arrest of Luigi Mangione has reignited debates about corporate greed and its corrosive impact on healthcare. In the U.S., patients face an exploitative system where care is a privilege, not a right. In Europe, public systems risk succumbing to privatization, jeopardizing the equity they were designed to uphold.
The question isn’t just about what went wrong in this tragic case—it’s about what we’re willing to do to fix the systems that contributed to it. If we fail to act, the cracks in our healthcare systems will only deepen, leaving more people disillusioned, disenfranchised, and desperate.
Mangione’s manifesto labeled corporations as “parasites.” The real challenge lies in proving him wrong by building systems that prioritize people over profits—before it’s too late.
