This Hypothesis Might Account for Responses to the United Healthcare Killer
The concept of “social banditry” provides insight into the current bleakness of our political climate.
TroibNews 
Following the early morning killing of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson in New York last week, social media erupted with reactions that leaned more toward joy than shock. “This needs to be the new norm,” posted one user, while another asked, “did the CEO of United Healthcare die quickly or over several months waiting to find out if his insurance would cover his treatment for the fatal gunshot wound?”
The unexpected glee expressed by many online in response to Thompson’s murder unsettled politicians and commentators alike. How do we interpret the dismal public sentiment surrounding such a violent act?
History may provide some insights.
In 1959, Marxist scholar Eric Hobsbawm introduced the term “social banditry” into historical and sociological discourse. Social bandits, whether real or fictional, operated outside of the law and garnered respect for their attempts to deliver justice in an unjust world—akin to Robin Hood, the legendary English outlaw of Sherwood Forest who “stole from the rich and gave to the poor.”
Hobsbawm’s theory, still debated among historians, was grounded in a Marxian analysis of economic relationships in agrarian societies, suggesting that bandits served as a form of resistance against significant inequality. These figures crossed different times and places, from the mythical Robin Hood of 14th-century England, to the violent outlaws like Jesse James and Billy the Kid in post-Civil War America, to figures like Pancho Villa in early 20th-century Mexico.
The incident in New York was far from a folk tale; it was a blatant act of murder. The shooter is not a heroic figure but a killer. Nonetheless, elements of the killer’s theatrics echo the social banditry of the past: he left messages on bullet casings, wore a mask, and abandoned a backpack filled with Monopoly money before fleeing on a bicycle. When police apprehended 26-year-old Luigi Mangione in connection with the incident, he allegedly carried a manifesto. While authorities continue to investigate his motives, it appears he aimed to convey some social message through his actions.
The public’s reaction also reflects themes from Hobsbawm's work, indicating a potential breakdown in the U.S. political system that may facilitate the celebration of modern social bandits. It's not solely the state of health care that colors this perspective; as Hobsbawm suggested, when faith in the state’s ability to address societal grievances wanes, individuals may look to outlaws who present themselves as alternatives.
Writing during the early Cold War, Hobsbawm was part of a broader intellectual movement critiquing capitalism. His era witnessed global decolonization as marginalized groups in the Global South fought against colonial rule. A pioneer of “history from below,” he focused on the dynamics between peasant societies and revolutionary change, especially concerning underground resistance.
According to Hobsbawm, social banditry gained traction in rural areas where state power was weak, longstanding peasant rights were diminishing, inequality was pervasive, and credible channels for resistance against abusive authorities—like the notorious Sheriff of Nottingham—were scarce.
Hobsbawm wrote, “the crucial fact about the bandit’s social situation is its ambiguity.” He delineated the bandit as an outsider and rebel, one who defies the conventional rules of poverty and aligns himself with the marginalized. Yet, simultaneously, the bandit often ascends into the very power structures he opposes.
It’s important to recognize that historical social bandits were frequently violent. Take Jesse James, for instance—an infamous bank and train robber and Confederate guerrilla. His legend grew post-Civil War despite the brutal reality of his actions, rooted in resistance to the end of slavery and a commitment to white supremacy. This duality is embodied in ballads that romanticized his exploits:
"Jesse James was a man
And he killed many men
He robbed the Glendale train
And he took from the richer
And he gave that to the poorer
He’d a hand and a heart and a brain."
Hobsbawm’s theory has faced criticism, with some scholars arguing he romanticized bandits as defenders of the oppressed while overlooking their self-serving or violent tendencies. They pointed out that some bandits preyed upon their communities as much as they resisted elites. Others argued these outlaws often lacked conscious political agendas, missing the fact that their elevation in popular sentiment represents a form of “pre-political” or “proto-political” action—expressions of resistance that, while not explicitly engaging with formal political frameworks, still reflect political awareness, grievances, and challenges to the status quo.
Nonetheless, Hobsbawm's ideas can shed light on current events, including last week's tragedy in Manhattan.
On one level, the celebration of violence against a health insurance executive becomes understandable considering the broader context: the U.S. spends a significant portion of its GDP on health care, yet around 8 percent of its population remains uninsured, with roughly 23 percent underinsured. According to political scientist Miranda Yaver, "in 2022, over 1 in 4 Americans reported delaying or foregoing medical care...due to cost." A recent Gallup poll indicated that only 31 percent of Americans trust the U.S. health care system.
Yaver, who will publish Coverage Denied: How Health Insurers Drive Inequality in the United States in 2026, found that “36 percent of 1,340 U.S. adults experienced at least one denial” of health insurance coverage, with many affected more than once.
This collective frustration with navigating the complexities of the health care system manifested in the online reactions to Thompson's death. The lens of social banditry serves as a useful method for examining our political climate.
Hobsbawm associated banditry with periods of economic and social upheaval when weak state structures failed to meet basic needs. In earlier eras, such instability could stem from various economic shifts like the enclosure of common lands or the dismantlement of feudal systems, where bandits filled the void left by the state's inability to provide justice or economic stability.
While the federal government in 2024 wields more power than the weak state structures Hobsbawm studied, it has been profoundly ineffective in addressing critical issues. In recent times, Congress has stalled on passing essential legislation, while administrations have increasingly relied on executive powers, often restrained by the courts—especially when the president is a Democrat—leading to limitations on immigration, student debt relief, and environmental protections.
If Hobsbawm’s thesis holds true, in an environment where many feel the weight of economic inequality and express little faith in the government, the allure of social banditry may increase. With public trust in government plummeting, the emergence of a masked killer carrying Monopoly money as a folk hero makes a certain kind of sense.
This reality is troubling. Social bandits captivate the public not just for robbing the rich and aiding the poor—often through violent means—but also because their rise signifies the absence of effective governance. In the void left by a nonresponsive state, many may well continue to idolize social banditry as an expression of their dissatisfaction with America’s economic landscape. While bandits can take on charming, altruistic personas reminiscent of Robin Hood, they often also embody the more perilous traits of figures like Frank and Jesse James: violent and ruthless.
Alejandro Jose Martinez for TROIB News
The unexpected glee expressed by many online in response to Thompson’s murder unsettled politicians and commentators alike. How do we interpret the dismal public sentiment surrounding such a violent act?
History may provide some insights.
In 1959, Marxist scholar Eric Hobsbawm introduced the term “social banditry” into historical and sociological discourse. Social bandits, whether real or fictional, operated outside of the law and garnered respect for their attempts to deliver justice in an unjust world—akin to Robin Hood, the legendary English outlaw of Sherwood Forest who “stole from the rich and gave to the poor.”
Hobsbawm’s theory, still debated among historians, was grounded in a Marxian analysis of economic relationships in agrarian societies, suggesting that bandits served as a form of resistance against significant inequality. These figures crossed different times and places, from the mythical Robin Hood of 14th-century England, to the violent outlaws like Jesse James and Billy the Kid in post-Civil War America, to figures like Pancho Villa in early 20th-century Mexico.
The incident in New York was far from a folk tale; it was a blatant act of murder. The shooter is not a heroic figure but a killer. Nonetheless, elements of the killer’s theatrics echo the social banditry of the past: he left messages on bullet casings, wore a mask, and abandoned a backpack filled with Monopoly money before fleeing on a bicycle. When police apprehended 26-year-old Luigi Mangione in connection with the incident, he allegedly carried a manifesto. While authorities continue to investigate his motives, it appears he aimed to convey some social message through his actions.
The public’s reaction also reflects themes from Hobsbawm's work, indicating a potential breakdown in the U.S. political system that may facilitate the celebration of modern social bandits. It's not solely the state of health care that colors this perspective; as Hobsbawm suggested, when faith in the state’s ability to address societal grievances wanes, individuals may look to outlaws who present themselves as alternatives.
Writing during the early Cold War, Hobsbawm was part of a broader intellectual movement critiquing capitalism. His era witnessed global decolonization as marginalized groups in the Global South fought against colonial rule. A pioneer of “history from below,” he focused on the dynamics between peasant societies and revolutionary change, especially concerning underground resistance.
According to Hobsbawm, social banditry gained traction in rural areas where state power was weak, longstanding peasant rights were diminishing, inequality was pervasive, and credible channels for resistance against abusive authorities—like the notorious Sheriff of Nottingham—were scarce.
Hobsbawm wrote, “the crucial fact about the bandit’s social situation is its ambiguity.” He delineated the bandit as an outsider and rebel, one who defies the conventional rules of poverty and aligns himself with the marginalized. Yet, simultaneously, the bandit often ascends into the very power structures he opposes.
It’s important to recognize that historical social bandits were frequently violent. Take Jesse James, for instance—an infamous bank and train robber and Confederate guerrilla. His legend grew post-Civil War despite the brutal reality of his actions, rooted in resistance to the end of slavery and a commitment to white supremacy. This duality is embodied in ballads that romanticized his exploits:
"Jesse James was a man
And he killed many men
He robbed the Glendale train
And he took from the richer
And he gave that to the poorer
He’d a hand and a heart and a brain."
Hobsbawm’s theory has faced criticism, with some scholars arguing he romanticized bandits as defenders of the oppressed while overlooking their self-serving or violent tendencies. They pointed out that some bandits preyed upon their communities as much as they resisted elites. Others argued these outlaws often lacked conscious political agendas, missing the fact that their elevation in popular sentiment represents a form of “pre-political” or “proto-political” action—expressions of resistance that, while not explicitly engaging with formal political frameworks, still reflect political awareness, grievances, and challenges to the status quo.
Nonetheless, Hobsbawm's ideas can shed light on current events, including last week's tragedy in Manhattan.
On one level, the celebration of violence against a health insurance executive becomes understandable considering the broader context: the U.S. spends a significant portion of its GDP on health care, yet around 8 percent of its population remains uninsured, with roughly 23 percent underinsured. According to political scientist Miranda Yaver, "in 2022, over 1 in 4 Americans reported delaying or foregoing medical care...due to cost." A recent Gallup poll indicated that only 31 percent of Americans trust the U.S. health care system.
Yaver, who will publish Coverage Denied: How Health Insurers Drive Inequality in the United States in 2026, found that “36 percent of 1,340 U.S. adults experienced at least one denial” of health insurance coverage, with many affected more than once.
This collective frustration with navigating the complexities of the health care system manifested in the online reactions to Thompson's death. The lens of social banditry serves as a useful method for examining our political climate.
Hobsbawm associated banditry with periods of economic and social upheaval when weak state structures failed to meet basic needs. In earlier eras, such instability could stem from various economic shifts like the enclosure of common lands or the dismantlement of feudal systems, where bandits filled the void left by the state's inability to provide justice or economic stability.
While the federal government in 2024 wields more power than the weak state structures Hobsbawm studied, it has been profoundly ineffective in addressing critical issues. In recent times, Congress has stalled on passing essential legislation, while administrations have increasingly relied on executive powers, often restrained by the courts—especially when the president is a Democrat—leading to limitations on immigration, student debt relief, and environmental protections.
If Hobsbawm’s thesis holds true, in an environment where many feel the weight of economic inequality and express little faith in the government, the allure of social banditry may increase. With public trust in government plummeting, the emergence of a masked killer carrying Monopoly money as a folk hero makes a certain kind of sense.
This reality is troubling. Social bandits captivate the public not just for robbing the rich and aiding the poor—often through violent means—but also because their rise signifies the absence of effective governance. In the void left by a nonresponsive state, many may well continue to idolize social banditry as an expression of their dissatisfaction with America’s economic landscape. While bandits can take on charming, altruistic personas reminiscent of Robin Hood, they often also embody the more perilous traits of figures like Frank and Jesse James: violent and ruthless.
Alejandro Jose Martinez for TROIB News
