The CEO Isn’t Your Enemy (But Maybe Something Bigger Is)

Alright, let’s get into it. The world loves to paint rich people as villains, and honestly, it’s hard not to sometimes. You see a CEO of a healthcare company raking in millions while people can’t afford their insulin, and yeah, it makes your blood boil. But here’s the thing—focusing all that anger on one person is exactly what the system wants you to do. It keeps you distracted, spinning your wheels, missing the big picture.

The truth? That CEO is just another pawn. Sure, they’re a well-paid pawn, but they’re stuck in the same game as the rest of us. Let’s talk about why that matters—and why the system’s real genius is convincing us to hate each other while it stays quietly in charge.

The Illusion of Wealth: Why the Gap Is Way Bigger Than You Think

We’re sold this dream: work hard, grind, hustle, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll be the next big success story. It’s all smoke and mirrors. The gap between your bank account and a CEO’s bank account might seem huge, but the gap between that CEO and the actual masters of the world? Unmeasurable. Dynasties. Generational wealth. Entire hidden economies that make millions look like lunch money.

Here’s the kicker: keeping that hidden from you? That’s on purpose. It’s a sleight of hand. If they make you think the top is closer than it is, you’ll keep climbing. You’ll stay busy. And while you’re chasing that dream, they’re sitting back, owning the land under your feet.

The CEO Isn’t the Puppet Master—They’re the Puppet

So, back to our healthcare CEO. Let’s say they deny someone’s claim, and it ends in tragedy. Who do we blame? Them, obviously. They’re the face of the problem. But what if they’re just a well-dressed scapegoat? Someone doing a job they were shaped by trauma, ambition, or sheer luck to be good at?

The truth is, they’re caught in the same machine as the rest of us. They make decisions under pressure, bending their own morals to keep their job, pay their bills, and—let’s be honest—drown the guilt in a whiskey glass. Sure, they make millions, but does that mean they’re free? Or just better-compensated prisoners of the same system?

The Trap of Justified Violence

Here’s where it gets tricky. We’re conditioned to cheer when the “bad guy” gets taken out. CEO gets shot? Justice, right? But hold on. What changes when they’re gone? Someone else gets hired. The system stays the same.

Worse, when we dehumanize people, we lose a piece of ourselves. Every one of us was a kid once, full of curiosity and love, before the world broke us in different ways. Even the CEO, even the billionaire, even the “villains.” If we’re justifying violence, we’re playing the system’s game—fighting each other while the real power brokers keep sitting pretty.

The Playground Analogy: How the System Keeps You Distracted

Picture this: you’re on a playground, swinging on a swing. There’s someone behind you, pushing, or so it seems. But their hands never touch you—they’re just making motions. You think they’re helping, but you’re really swinging yourself, following their rhythm.

That’s us. That’s how the system works. We think we’re making independent choices, but every gust of wind—the news, the narratives, the fear—is nudging us in a specific direction. They push us to fight each other, to see everyone else as separate, as the problem. That’s their favorite game: division. Because as long as we’re busy blaming each other, we’re not questioning the playground itself.

Life Is Sacred (Even If the System Wants You to Forget)

Here’s the thing we’re all forgetting: life is amazing. Even when it sucks, even when it’s unfair, even when it’s full of pain. It’s still magic. Every one of us is a walking miracle of stardust and time. But the system makes us forget that. It keeps us distracted with narratives of who’s “good” and who’s “bad,” with fear and anger, with this endless, exhausting grind.

What if we just… stopped? Stepped out of the game for a second? Sat with nature, felt the sun on our skin, remembered what it was like to just be. What if we saw each other—not as CEOs or workers, rich or poor, but as people? Flawed, hurting, beautiful people.

What Can We Do?

• Stop Playing Their Game: Recognize when you’re being swayed. Ask, “Who benefits from this fight? This fear? This distraction?”
• See the Humanity: Even in the people you’re told to hate. Especially in them. Empathy is the antidote to division.
• Reconnect to What’s Real: Nature. Community. Creativity. The things that remind you that life is bigger than the grind.
• Ask Bigger Questions: Why does the system work this way? Who’s really in charge? What would it look like if life—not profit—was the priority?

Final Thought: Take the Wheel

Here’s the big takeaway: life is sacred, and the system we’re living in doesn’t honor that. It’s a machine, designed to keep us distracted, divided, and docile. But you don’t have to stay in the way of its gusts. You can step aside, take a breath, and decide what really matters to you.

Because here’s the truth: this life—messy, painful, magical—is ours. We might not control the playground, but we can control how we show up on it. Let’s stop letting the system sway us. Let’s build something better, together.