Brian Thompson Is The Real Working Class Hero: What Most People Get Wrong

Brian Thompson Is The Real Working Class Hero: What Most People Get Wrong

The world went a little crazy in December 2024. When Brian Thompson, the CEO of UnitedHealthcare, was gunned down outside the New York Hilton Midtown, the internet didn't just report it. It exploded. But it wasn't the kind of explosion you'd expect for a 50-year-old father of two. Instead of a universal outpouring of grief, a disturbing number of people started cheering for the guy in the mask.

They saw a corporate villain. They saw a suit. They saw the face of a healthcare system that had denied their claims or bankrupt their neighbors. Honestly, it was pretty grim to watch.

📖 Related: Fast Food Restaurant Logos: Why You Can’t Stop Looking at the Color Red

But there’s a narrative that got completely buried under the weight of all that "deny, defend, depose" vitriol. While the suspect, Luigi Mangione, was being framed as some kind of Robin Hood, the reality of their backgrounds tells a totally different story. If you actually look at the lives these two men lived, it becomes pretty clear: Brian Thompson is the real working class hero in this tragedy, at least in the traditional sense of the American Dream.

The Iowa Kid Who Actually Worked

We love to talk about "self-made" people, but usually, when you dig an inch deep, you find a small million-dollar loan from a dad or an Ivy League connection. Brian Thompson didn't have any of that. He was born in Ames, Iowa, and grew up in a tiny farming town called Jewell.

His childhood wasn't spent in prep schools. It was spent in the dirt.

Think about this for a second. While some kids were at summer camp, Thompson was out in the Iowa heat, going row by row through fields to kill weeds with a knife. He worked manual labor at turkey and hog farms. That’s not a "summer job" for a resume; that’s the kind of work that breaks your back and makes you appreciate the value of a dollar.

His parents weren't titans of industry, either. His mother was a beautician. His father worked at a grain elevator. Basically, they were the definition of the American working class.

Why the "Villain" Tag Doesn't Fit the Man

It’s easy to look at a CEO making $10.2 million a year and decide they’ve always been "one of them." But Thompson didn't parachute into that role. He was the valedictorian of his high school and then the valedictorian of his class at the University of Iowa. He was a math nerd—a CPA who ground his way through the ranks at PwC before spending 20 years climbing the ladder at UnitedHealth.

  • 1993: High school valedictorian in a small farming town.
  • 1997: Graduates top of his class at a state school (not Harvard).
  • 2004: Joins UnitedHealth and stays there for two decades.

He wasn't some fly-by-night executive jumping from firm to firm to gut them for parts. He was a guy who stayed in the trenches of one company, learned the systems, and eventually took the top spot in 2021.

👉 See also: London Business School Acceptance Rate: What Most People Get Wrong

The Contrast Nobody Wants to Admit

Here is the part that makes people uncomfortable. If we’re looking for a "hero" based on background, look at the guy who pulled the trigger. Luigi Mangione didn't come from the struggle. He was the scion of a wealthy, prominent Maryland family. He went to an elite private school (the kind with tuition that costs more than most people’s cars) and then to the University of Pennsylvania.

You’ve got a wealthy kid from an Ivy League background attacking a guy who literally used to chop weeds in a field to help his family get by.

Kinda flips the script, doesn't it?

The internet wanted a class war, but they picked the wrong side. They celebrated a privileged young man who "suffered" while working remotely from a nice apartment in Hawaii, while demonizing the guy who actually did the work to rise from a grain elevator town to the C-suite.

Brian Thompson Is The Real Working Class Hero of the Corporate World

It’s popular to hate on insurance companies. And look, there are plenty of valid reasons for that. UnitedHealthcare’s denial rates and the whole "prior authorization" nightmare are real problems that affect millions. Thompson was the face of that, and he took the heat for it. That’s part of the job description when you're the CEO of a $500 billion company.

But being a "hero" isn't about being perfect. It’s about the trajectory of a life.

In a world where the wealth gap is widening, we should be championing the people who actually start at zero and make it to the top. Thompson represented the idea that if you are "whip-smart" (as his colleagues called him) and you work harder than everyone else, the ceiling doesn't exist.

What People Get Wrong About the "Hero" Narrative

Most people confuse a "hero" with a "saint." Thompson wasn't a saint; he was a corporate executive in a brutal industry. But he was also a guy who walked to his meetings without a security detail. He lived in a $1.5 million home in Maple Grove—which, for a CEO of his level, is actually surprisingly modest. Many VPs at smaller companies live in more expensive houses.

He stayed connected to his roots. He was a massive supporter of the Special Olympics and was set to co-chair the 2026 Special Olympics USA Games. People who worked with him didn't describe him as a cold-blooded shark. They called him "affable," "personable," and a "good friend."

The "hero" in this story isn't the one who used violence to make a point. It’s the one who spent fifty years building a life, a family, and a career from nothing.

The Problem With the Internet's Reaction

The reaction to Thompson’s death showed a massive disconnect in our society. We’ve become so frustrated with the "system" that we’ve stopped seeing the human beings inside it.

When people saw the words "UnitedHealthcare CEO," they stopped seeing the kid from Jewell, Iowa. They stopped seeing the father of two teenage boys. They just saw a symbol.

But symbols don't bleed. People do.

By making a hero out of the shooter, the internet ignored the most American part of the story: the guy who actually climbed the ladder instead of just being born on the top rung.

Moving Forward: Lessons from the Life of BT

So, what do we actually do with this? If we want to fix the healthcare system, we need to do it through policy and voting, not by celebrating the execution of a man who worked his way up from a turkey farm.

  1. Separate the person from the policy. You can hate the insurance industry’s denial practices without hating the human being trying to manage a complex global organization.
  2. Value the "Grind" again. We should be looking for more Brian Thompsons—people from state schools and working-class backgrounds—to lead our companies, rather than just recycling the same elite Ivy League circles.
  3. Acknowledge the Nuance. The world isn't a comic book. There are no pure villains and no pure heroes. But there is such a thing as a life well-lived through hard work.

Brian Thompson's story ended way too soon in a cold New York street. He deserved to see his sons grow up, and he deserved to be remembered for the distance he traveled from those Iowa cornfields, not just the title he held at the end. If we’re looking for someone to emulate—the hard work, the discipline, the rise from nothing—it’s clear that Brian Thompson is the real working class hero we should be talking about.

👉 See also: US Currency to New Zealand Dollars: Why Everyone is Getting the Timing Wrong

For those looking to understand the complexities of the U.S. healthcare system beyond the headlines, start by researching the actual data on claim denials and the legislative efforts around "Medicare for All" or "Public Option" models. Understanding the mechanics of the industry is a much more effective way to drive change than participating in the toxic cycle of social media outrage.