Mark Bertolini wants to fix American healthcare by making insurance work for people instead of against them.
Oscar Health, the startup he leads, promises accessible coverage built on transparency and actual care coordination. Rather than the profit-extraction machinery most people expect from insurers. The rhetoric is sincere, but the track record tells a different story.
In 2013, Bertolini took over Aetna with nearly identical language about inclusive access and centering the patient experience. About healthcare as a human right rather than a commodity. What followed was the 2018 acquisition of CVS for $69 billion, which didn't expand choice but concentrated it.
Aetna and CVS together controlled pharmacy access, insurance coverage, and primary care clinics in the same markets. For someone in rural Pennsylvania or rural Florida, competition didn't broaden. It narrowed to a single integrated system that could now set prices without countervailing pressure. The mechanism is elegant and historically precise. You announce reform language and win trust from vulnerable populations and regulators alike. You then use that credibility to consolidate.
The language about inclusion served the consolidation.
Consolidation masquerades as efficiency, efficiency becomes market power. Market power becomes margin extraction from the very people the reform rhetoric was meant to protect. This was the pattern at Aetna — the language about inclusion served the consolidation. They were not in conflict. Oscar operates in a different regulatory environment and is smaller, fintech-adjacent, focused on individual markets rather than national scale. But Bertolini's playbook doesn't depend on owning everything at once.
It depends on winning permission to try. Reform language creates that permission. Each acquisition, each partnership, each expansion into adjacent markets follows the same arc. The question isn't whether he wants to help people. The question is what shape consolidation takes when it arrives wearing the language of care.