Alleviating symptoms, causing problems

I.

I got my first job in the spring of 2011, a barely-paid summer internship at an education software startup that was building an online Q&A platform for college students. It gave students the ability to speak up and ask questions anonymously, which some — those still learning English, for example — might not normally do in person.

It didn’t address the causes of these students not wanting to speak up in class; it made money by alleviating the symptoms.

In 2013 I joined another edtech company, this time one that trained Navy veterans to become information technology professionals in much less time than most existing degree programs could. It didn’t address the causes of Navy veterans having a hard time finding jobs or IT degrees taking a relatively long time to complete; it made money by alleviating the symptoms.

In 2015 I joined yet another edtech company that offered one-to-one math tutoring through a smartphone app. Students whose schools weren’t giving them the level of help they needed in the subject now had a digital yet fully personalized way to get it. It didn’t address the causes of their schools being unable to give them adequate math instruction; it made money by alleviating the symptoms.

II.

In 2020, my girlfriend and I each joined a different health tech company. In their own ways, they both made healthcare access easier for a group of underserved people. They didn’t address the underlying causes of why those people were underserved by medical infrastructure in the first place; they made money by alleviating the symptoms.

A colleague of ours at the math tutoring startup went on to start his own business. It simplifies a particular visa-acquiring process that many migrant farm workers use in order to work in the US. It doesn’t address the underlying causes of that process being complicated in the first place; it makes money by alleviating the symptoms.

In 2021 I joined a civic tech company  that lent people their annual tax refunds in monthly installments, which would have let them use that money to pay recurring bills more regularly. It didn’t address the causes of them relying on those refunds so heavily in the first place; it made money by alleviating the symptoms. Similarly, Intuit, the company that makes TurboTax, makes money off the symptoms of another problem: the IRS not simply calculating how much you owe (which they can do, since they audit people) and thereby preventing the need for a refund in the first place.

III.

In early 2022 I became a customer at a company that offers mental health treatment. I sought treatment from other sources first. No office near me, even when I looked outside what my insurance would cover, was accepting new patients. This company is entirely remote. I was able to get help practically immediately, and it’s honestly changed my life since then. But it doesn’t address the underlying causes of our country’s mental health services being woefully unprepared for its mental health needs; it makes money by alleviating the symptoms.

In late 2022 I joined a company that lets people buy and sell cars online. Truth be told, I can’t say it addresses the symptoms of any underlying structural problem. I wouldn’t call a lack of online car-buying services a structural problem, at least not on the level of these other ones, but our total reliance on cars and our lack of high speed rail definitely are.

Let me be clear: there’s a place for alleviating symptoms. If you’ve broken your leg, the last thing you need is someone harping on you for not having prevented it; the first thing you need is a painkiller or a splint. When you let symptom-fixing become all you do, of course, then the services you rely on to help you fix them become rich. They get so rich, in fact, that they can create problems in the first place, trapping everyone in sticky situations, just to make a few people a buck.