I finally saw “Sicko” last week, and it had a strong impact on me. That’s not surprising if you know how susceptible I am to the emotional pull of movies — and if you consider that Michael Moore was “preaching to the choir” in my case, since I’ve long been an ardent supporter of government-financed universal health coverage (my last job was as the communications coordinator for a health policy research center).

A caveat: I fully acknowledge that “Sicko” has its share of flaws and oversimplifications. For example, Moore makes a big deal of how the evil health plans deny patients’ appeals for medical services. While health plans have certainly denied many legitimate, needed treatments, it’s also true that — given the need to use our limited healthcare resources wisely — not all treatments for all medical conditions can or should be covered. Also, we never hear even a negative peep about the healthcare systems of France, England, Cuba or Canada (but Michael Moore is not exactly about balance!).

That aside, what really disturbed me about Sicko was not just the stories of suffering and hardship that sick people have endured because of our refusal to provide universal health coverage (although that was part of it — I cried when confronted with the Sept. 11 volunteer rescue workers who gave selflessly to their country, then couldn’t get decent care for the resulting ailments). What disturbed me even more was the broader point Moore makes (effectively I think) when he asks the question, “Who are we as a society?”

Unlike countries in Europe and elsewhere, Americans seem to lack a sense of collective caring and compassion toward our fellow citizens. The prevailing view seems to be that hey, if you’ve worked hard and have money and insurance, you can get good healthcare. Good for you! But if not — if you’re too sick or don’t have the right job or don’t make quite enough money — then sorry, you’re out of luck, and you can’t count on getting the medical care you need (try your luck at the nearest ER). This is because the well-off among us — even just the solidly middle-class among us — are apparently unwilling to contribute more of their earnings (in taxes) to make sure the less-well-off are taken care of.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe most Americans would agree, in principle, that those with a decent level of income should pay higher taxes to finance healthcare and other social services for the less-well-off. If that’s the case, then what Americans are most guilty of (as Sicko points out) is being complacent and politically apathetic, and failing to demand change from our leaders. There was a memorable comment from a French thinker/leader interviewed in Sicko, who posits this reason for the difference in the European vs. American approach: in Europe, he asserts, “the government is afraid of the people” — because they will protest vigorously if services for workers or the collective good are threatened — whereas in the U.S., “the people are afraid of the government” and they go along like sheep with its policies most of the time.

So, all this leaves me outraged — not just about healthcare, but other issues that reveal our government’s lack of collective compassion (weakening environmental protection; our poor civil rights record; using our wealth to fight wars instead of forge peace…). When I read or hear about these in the news, I am sometimes struck with a feeling of despair, and I find it hard to accept that we live in such a society. This is probably naivete on my part, but one would think that with our advanced knowledge and technological sophistication, we human beings would have become more enlightened by now in terms of choosing governments and policies that help improve the lot of human beings and our earth.

I know I risk sounding like a raving, left-winged lunatic. I also know that — as my dear husband (blogger riyer) often reminds me — we can’t dwell upon the world’s problems all the time or we’ll end up paralyzed, miserable wretches. On the other hand, I also believe we can’t just be complacent and pretend that everything is OK. If we all did that, nothing would change.

That brings me to another point: I’m close to deciding that my next step after my current job (I am a medical writer/editor at a huge media corporation) will be to work only for nonprofits that are doing some good in the world — perhaps in healthcare since it’s an area I’m interested in. I’m not sure exactly what job I’d do, or whether there are enough such paying jobs in the Bay Area. It would certainly mean making less money than I do now (and I don’t really make that much money now, at least not by Silicon Valley standards…). It could also mean giving up working in my chosen field, journalism, to focus on something else.

I don’t feel I’m ready to take this step yet, but maybe in a few short years when I turn 40 (wow, does that make me feel old… ) it will be a good excuse to make that kind of career change. As it is, I’m frustrated and disillusioned with my current work environment – it’s sterile and corporate, with everyone hunkered down in their cubicles, rarely speaking to each other. God forbid if anyone should be concerned about something like teamwork, or common goals, or career satisfaction! (oh, sorry, that is just so last-century. Yeah, I am old-fashioned.)

On a hopeful note, I know there are plenty of enlightened Americans out there who feel the way I do. The problem is there just aren’t enough of us around, or they’re not vocal enough — yet. But I’m encouraged by some recent news that younger voters are tending to hold liberal views, on issues from healthcare to immigration to gay marriage (“New poll finds that young Americans are leaning left,” New York Times, June 27,

So perhaps there is hope for real change after all. Just don’t let it be too long in coming.