Stas Sokolin

A resume that only looks random

If you lined up the jobs on Stas Sokolin's resume and asked a stranger to guess the punchline, they would probably fail. An investment banking analyst at BNP Paribas. A stint at Google X, the lab that treats moonshots as a day job. A seat at Health2047, the American Medical Association's innovation arm, where he helped stand up a Medicare Advantage startup called Zing Health. Then an impact investor's chair at the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative, writing checks instead of cashing them.

It reads like a career assembled from spare parts. Look closer and the thread is obvious. At each stop, Sokolin moved a little nearer to the thing itself, from the spreadsheet to the lab to the boardroom to the balance sheet of other people's companies. The logical last step was to stop advising founders and become one.

He studied economics and history at New York University, which is a useful pairing for a founder. Economics teaches you how systems are supposed to work. History teaches you that they rarely do, and that the arrangements everyone treats as permanent are usually just choices nobody has bothered to revisit.

The unfashionable decision to open a building

By the early 2020s, the smart money in digital health had a clear playbook. Keep it virtual. Keep it asset-light. Ship an app, avoid real estate, and let the margins take care of themselves. Sokolin looked at that consensus and went the other way. In 2022 he co-founded Amae Health and built physical clinics with full, multidisciplinary teams inside them.

This was not a nostalgic preference for brick and mortar. It was a bet about who gets left behind when care is reduced to a fifteen-minute video call. Amae was built for people with the most complex needs, the ones a scheduling algorithm tends to route straight to the "too hard" pile. For them, Sokolin argued, more human contact was the product, not a cost to be engineered away.

It is an unglamorous position in a field that loves a slick demo. But Sokolin has been consistent about it, and the investors eventually came around to his math rather than the other way around.

Running the hardest problem through a data pipeline

Here is the part that gives away his Google X years. Sokolin's frustration is not only with access. It is with the fact that so much of the work still runs on guesswork, on trial and error dressed up as tradition. His fix is unglamorous and, to an engineer, deeply satisfying: standardize the data, then actually use it.

Amae's platform is built on Palantir, software usually associated with defense contractors and hedge funds rather than outpatient care. In Sokolin's hands it becomes an instrument for turning scattered, messy records into something a care team can plan around. The ambition is to move a field long governed by intuition toward measurable, research-grade decisions.

The money follows the results

In November 2025, Amae Health announced a $25 million Series B led by Altos Ventures, with returning backers including Quiet Capital, Bling Capital, 8VC, Cedars-Sinai and Healthier Capital. The round pushed total funding past $50 million. The capital is earmarked for opening more clinics, deepening the AI platform, and funding research.

What is more telling than the number is the company Sokolin keeps. Health systems are notoriously slow to partner with startups, and slower still to lend their names. Amae has drawn in Cedars-Sinai, Stanford Health Care and NewYork-Presbyterian. Those are not logos you win with a pitch deck. You win them by producing outcomes and then letting the outcomes do the talking.

Business Insider noticed early, naming Sokolin to its 2022 list of thirty influential leaders under forty in healthcare. That kind of recognition can be a curse, the sort of thing that inflates a founder's sense of arrival. Sokolin seems to treat it as a footnote. He is still opening clinics.

A founder who prefers the unfashionable answer

There is a certain type of entrepreneur who is drawn to the crowded, well-lit part of the market, the segment where the customers are easy and the graphs go up on their own. Sokolin is the other type. He went looking for the population everyone else had quietly agreed to skip, and treated it as the largest unsolved problem rather than the riskiest one.

He is scheduled to speak at the 2026 OPEN MINDS series on strategies for market expansion, which is a very corporate way of describing what he actually does: figure out how to take a stubbornly human, hard-to-scale kind of care and reproduce it in more places without watering it down. It is the central tension of his company and, arguably, the whole reason it is interesting.

Ask him what he is building and he will not really describe a company. He talks about a standard, a version of the world where the people currently written off are instead treated as solvable, worthy of the same rigor and the same technology as anyone else. Whether he pulls it off is an open question. That he is aiming at it, rather than at the nearest easy win, is what makes Stas Sokolin worth watching.