Humana's Medicare Advantage Mess: Why Their New 'Fix' is Just More Corporate Spin

Let's get one thing straight. When a corporation that just lost a lawsuit over its performance metrics announces a bold new "strategy" to improve those same metrics, you don't applaud. You check your wallet. You read articles like Behind Humana’s plan to fix its Medicare Advantage star ratings. And you prepare for the next sleight of hand.

So when I read that Humana's grand plan to boost its Medicare Advantage star ratings is to basically hide its crappy plans from new customers, I had to laugh. It's the most perfectly cynical, late-stage-capitalism move I've seen all week, and it’s only Tuesday.

This isn't a plan to fix the underperforming health plans. It's not about investing in better care, hiring more doctors, or streamlining the bureaucratic nightmare that is American healthcare. No, that would be hard. That would cost money. Instead, they’re just going to steer new, unsuspecting seniors toward the shiny, five-star products while letting the one- and two-star plans wither on the vine, presumably with their current members still trapped inside.

It's a digital shell game. A marketing solution to a healthcare problem. And they’re betting we’re all too dumb or too tired to notice.

The Old Bait-and-Switch, Now with More Pixels

Humana’s move is like a restaurant that keeps getting C-grades from the health inspector for its grimy kitchen. Instead of, you know, cleaning the kitchen, the owner just prints a new menu that only lists the pre-packaged salads and bottled water. See? We’re an A+ establishment! Just don’t look behind the curtain. Don’t ask about the people who already ordered the fish.

This isn't some abstract corporate shuffling. This is a deliberate choice that has real consequences. The Medicare Advantage star ratings system, flawed as it is, was at least intended to be a semi-transparent measure of quality. It’s supposed to help seniors make one of the most important decisions of their lives. Now, it’s being openly gamed. Humana’s not even being subtle about it. They’re essentially admitting, "Yeah, some of our products are bad. So we’re just going to stop showing them to people."

This comes right after they lost a lawsuit over these very ratings. You’d think a legal smackdown would trigger some soul-searching, maybe a pivot toward genuine improvement. But why improve when you can just manipulate the storefront? It’s a bad look. No, 'bad' doesn't cover it—this is a five-alarm dumpster fire of corporate ethics. It’s a flashing neon sign that says, “Our primary concern is our stock price, not your grandmother’s well-being.”

And what about the people currently enrolled in those low-rated plans? The fact sheet is conveniently silent on their fate. Are they just stuck? Are they supposed to be grateful they got in before Humana decided to sweep their plan under the rug? It's the quiet part of the strategy, the part that involves actual human beings whose care is being treated like a legacy software product being sunsetted. They're betting no one will ask, that the press release is all that matters, and honestly...

This Isn't a Bug, It's the Feature

The most infuriating part of this whole charade is the sheer, unadulterated arrogance of it. They’re not just doing this; they’re announcing it as a strategy. They’re proud of it. They’ve packaged deception as innovation. It’s a masterclass in corporate doublespeak, a world where “improving our ratings” means “getting better at hiding our failures.”

It reminds me of trying to cancel a gym membership. They make it impossible. They hide the button, they send you through phone trees, they require a notarized letter sent by carrier pigeon. It’s all part of the design. The system isn’t broken; it’s working exactly as intended to keep your money. This is the same principle, just applied to something infinitely more important than a treadmill. They are designing a system that makes it harder for you to see the full picture, and it's just another way to offcourse, protect their bottom line.

This move actively undermines the very idea of a rating system. If a company can just shuffle its customers around to juice its scores, what’s the point of the scores in the first place? Why should anyone trust a five-star rating when we know it might just be the result of clever marketing and curated enrollment, not superior care? Are we just supposed to accept that these metrics are now purely for show, a performance for Wall Street investors?

Then again, maybe I’m the crazy one here. Maybe this is just what "healthcare" means in America now. It ain’t about health, and it ain’t about care. It’s about products, customers, and quarterly earnings reports. And in that world, Humana’s plan makes perfect, cynical sense.

So, We're Just Supposed to Clap?

Let's be brutally honest. This isn't a strategy to improve healthcare. It's a marketing gimmick designed to manipulate a flawed system, and it treats senior citizens like clueless consumers to be herded toward the shiniest object. It’s a profound admission of failure disguised as a business plan. They’re not fixing the house; they’re just slapping a coat of paint on the front door and hoping nobody checks the foundation. It's insulting.