From the archives: In this 2023 cover story from the New Zealand Listener archives, Niki Bezzant investigates the darker side to the thriving wellness industry and explores how the reasons we exercise have changed.
Former reality-show star and online influencer Art Green smiles at the camera before lowering his chiselled abdomen into a chest freezer he’s converted into an at-home ice bath.
His wife, Matilda, demonstrates a smoothie for her 160,000 Instagram followers, made from “all natural” marine collagen powder, almond butter, protein powder and chia seeds.
Local nutraceutical company SRW Laboratories offers its DNAage saliva kit to “test your biological age”, alongside supplements to help you shave a few years off (starting price: $89 a month). Studio Red Wellness offers yoga in its architect-designed Auckland premises as well as a bespoke range of teas and organic infusions starting at $36 a tin.
All of these things fit within the varied terrain of modern wellness practices. The wellness industry – encompassing dietary supplements, fitness, alternative healing practices, health food, diets and even “clean” beauty – is worth about US$1.5 trillion (NZ$2.3t) a year globally, and it’s predicted to keep on growing. In New Zealand, retail sector research company IRI reports the natural health category is booming – dietary supplement sales alone have grown 13 % in grocery outlets and pharmacies in the past year to $283 million.
Data from IRI’s State of the Industry Household Shopper Survey suggests we’re no longer interested only in supplements. Almost two-thirds of New Zealanders believe food can be as powerful as medicine. As a result, manufacturers in many grocery categories are developing products to cash in on our renewed interest in being and staying well.
There’s been a resurgence of interest in fitness, too. Exercise New Zealand’s latest survey shows that after the enforced shutdowns of the pandemic years, gyms are now operating at 2019 levels or better (see “Working it out” below).
It’s possibly no surprise that we are increasingly seeking to take our health into our own hands. We’ve been through a global pandemic, and many of us have realised our health can’t be taken for granted.
Keith Petrie, a professor of psychological medicine at the University of Auckland, thinks part of what attracts us to the wellness industry’s alternative options is dissatisfaction with the mainstream medical system. “[People feel] medicine’s got quite technical and lost a bit of the personal touch,” he says. “Doctors are probably under a bit more pressure, and people are feeling their health concerns are not listened to. They are looking for more human interaction in their healthcare.”
Petrie believes there’s also growing concern that our modern world, with its fast-paced, stressful lifestyles, is making us unwell. “People are becoming more sensitive to features of modern life that they think cause ill health. We tend to see stress as the cause of most illnesses these days, even if that’s not correct.”
Misinformation over health interventions such as fluoridation and vaccination feed our unease. Then there are environmental issues such as pollution, and an underlying suspicion that the simpler life we lived in the past was healthier.
“People have glorified earlier times,” says Petrie. “But actually, back in the day, food [for example] was pretty unsafe. Lots of people died from poisoned food.”
He notes with a smile that not so long ago, we blamed evil spirits for many of our ills.
Romanticising nature
US journalist and author Rina Raphael has probed the wellness world in her book The Gospel of Wellness: Gyms, Gurus, Goop and the False Promise of Self-care. In it, she explores many branches of the wellness tree, from yoga – asking “why is yoga always the answer?” in one chapter – to immersing herself in the hyper-commercial and privileged world of Hollywood star Gwyneth Paltrow’s aspirational lifestyle brand.
Raphael agrees we tend to be attracted to solutions we perceive as being more “natural”. “It’s natural for us to love nature,” she tells the Listener from her Los Angeles home, “but nature is brutal. This idea that nature’s always looking out for us is just untrue.”
Raphael has come to the conclusion that we’re the victims of our own success in modern life. “We take for granted how much medicine and science have done for us. So, we romanticise nature without realising that the only reason any of us live to an old age is because of science and synthetic chemicals that are supposedly so bad for us.”
She approached her book as someone who’s been reporting on – and strongly attracted to – the wellness industry for many years. She admits she’s tried almost everything the industry has to offer, and has often believed many of the messages pitched by marketers.
She considers the book something of a “mea culpa” for the fact that as a journalist, she previously accepted many of the claims made by wellness marketers. That’s partly because, she suggests, many of the mantras of wellness have become accepted as truth, despite the fact they’re not always grounded in evidence.
“I’m someone who just never thought to question whether ‘clean beauty’ claims [products marketed as free of harmful ingredients and environmentally and ethically sound] were completely accurate. Or that organic food is definitely more nutritious for you,” says Raphael. “There are a lot of things we take as true, just because they sound right.”
The adage about drinking eight glasses of water a day is a classic example, she notes. “In LA right now, people are carrying around these massive aluminium water bottles, like security blankets. They’re drinking huge amounts of water because they read one piece that you have to drink all this water every day.”
The idea was originally popularised by a widely known weight-loss programme, but many scientists have been arguing for years that it’s inappropriate for most people.
It’s the same with fitness, says Raphael. “There’s a bunch of stuff that gets stated by one outlet and then repeated by all the others.” Psychologically, the more we see something repeated, the more we accept it as truth, she says, which can give marketers a free pass to capitalise on those messages.
“I liken the wellness industry to the tech industry, and the way we treated Facebook and Twitter 15 years ago. It took a couple of years for us to ask: ‘What are the unintended consequences of this industry?’”
She stresses she’s not making the case that wellness is all bad. “I know plenty of women who feel like they’ve got a second lease on life once they found a gym they loved, or a diet that worked for them. I’m not knocking all of it. But it is bursting with pseudoscience and consumerism.”
The never-ending quest
The fact that it is women who are often attracted to – and targeted by – the wellness industry is undeniable. Much of Raphael’s book is an exploration of how and why this happens, and the issues society avoids addressing by placing so much emphasis on individuals tending to their own wellness – the never-ending quest for “self-care”.
She says she’s uncomfortable with the narrative that women are naive or stupid to fall for the sometimes woo-woo marketing of wellness. “I am someone who fell for all these things. I only bought organic; I tried all the fitness fads. I got disordered eating from clean eating. I was terrified of conventional body shower gel in hotels.
“I would look around and say, well, I’m educated. My friends are educated. We’re not stupid. We’re just being preyed upon. We’re being served misinformation.”
Raphael says women can be attracted to wellness because they have legitimate complaints with the medical system, often feeling gaslit or ignored. Women report being more stressed than men, and may lack the systemic support they need, such as childcare and maternity leave. Women also shoulder more of the care burden at home and in families, leaving them wrung out and exhausted.
Women’s insecurities are also preyed upon by the wellness industry, she believes. “This industry has melded with a whole bunch of other industries that dovetail quite nicely with body image pressures. So you’re seeing diet culture sneak into wellness. You can’t use the word ‘diet’ any more. It’s not PC. The body positivity movement really killed that word, so that entire industry had to find a new way in, and they found it through wellness.
“So, we no longer say you have to get a beach-ready body. Now we say a ‘healthy’ body. But they’re still the same ‘before and after’ pictures, with a woman in a bikini with zero body fat. It’s just that now she’s not on a diet. She’s on a cleanse or a detox, or she’s clean eating.”
Wellness marketers use tactics of fearmongering and presenting aspirational lifestyles to target women, says Raphael. They do this by tapping into societal pressure and gender expectations.
“You’ll see a lot of these products – and this is everything from supplements to fitness classes to services to apps – that prey on women’s deepest vulnerabilities and their biggest desires. So, being youthful, being beautiful, anti-ageing – these are all things that have been in other industries and have found a new audience and a new language disguised as wellness.”
Petrie agrees, and says marketers often use language on their products emphasising sometimes vague health issues that women tend to identify with.
“They’ll use terms that are very targeted at women. ‘Fatigue’ is a big one. And things like ‘bloating’ and ‘abdominal discomfort’.”
Though men are also targeted by wellness marketing, it’s different, framed in more-macho terms such as “biohacking” (like those ice baths), “enhancing performance” or “powering up”.
Hustling health
People inside the wellness industry don’t usually see themselves as predatory – many are careful to stay in their lane, acknowledging the role of conventional medicine. And many offer services and products that attract hordes of happy customers who believe they’re getting genuine help.
Waiheke Island-based Vassia Simou left her high-pressure corporate career after experiencing burnout – though, she says, she doesn’t like to call it that – and started a wellness business, including private retreats and a wellness centre offering yoga and massage.
She says part of the reason for her pivot to wellness is that yoga has been hugely beneficial in her own life.
“I practised yoga for years, and it was always just another form of exercise. But when I was going through a phase of intense work and a lot of stress, I found a class that I loved. Thursday evenings, no matter what, I would go to the class. I’d spend an hour and a half there, and it became something more than just a form of exercise. It helped me a lot. At that time of extreme stress I honestly think if I hadn’t had that yoga class, I don’t know how I would’ve survived it.”
Digital marketer Jenna Brown is another who’s been on her own journey through the wellness landscape. She says she’s found benefits along the way, though not from everything she’s tried.
Six years ago, Brown had what she describes as a “life crisis”, after a bout of postnatal depression. Alongside conventional therapy and medication for her anxiety and depression, she also tried a wide range of alternatives. She reels off a checklist: mindfulness, meditation, women’s empowerment coaching, reiki, craniosacral therapy, spiritual podcasts, float therapy, essential oils, sound therapy, white noise, kundalini yoga, energy healing, tarot, breathing techniques, gratitude challenges, psychics and self-help books. Some things really helped her, she says. Others quickly lost their appeal.
“I think because I am in marketing and have a lot to do with that whole marketing system – how it works, driving traffic to websites and email lists and social media and all that jazz – I could start to see through the different selling tactics some of the coaches were using. And it started becoming less and less palatable over time.”
Brown thinks most wellness practitioners have good intentions, and many are well-qualified and trained. But they still have to hustle for customers. A free, online consultation might lead to a sales call to book you into a course, for example. “I’ve even seen people doing tarot readings live on Facebook or Instagram to get you to put your email address in and get signed up to their mailing list – that type of stuff. I think because I see how all the mechanics work, it takes the shine off it a bit.”
She acknowledges she has benefitted from self-help books. While reading them, “I don’t ever feel like I’m questioning if someone’s trying to take my money or not. I go to the library and get books and read them and that’s the end of the transaction. And I like the idea of thinking about things in different ways and learning about other people’s journeys and stories.”
The things that have worked best for her long-term wellbeing have been the wellness basics. “Exercise would be the top one. I quit drinking about 18 months ago and that was a huge benefit to my anxiety, especially. Good nutrition, too. All the tried-and-true stuff. And I still take antidepressants, which is probably long term for me, but I’m comfortable with that.”
One of the tribe
Simou thinks a good part of the benefit her clients get from the retreats she runs is simply the opportunity to unwind and reconnect with others.
“It is not just the mental and physical wellbeing that people are looking for. They’re looking to find social wellbeing as well. They want this balance: ‘Yes, I have my wellness practices as part of this retreat, but also I have the time to catch up with my friends’.”
Dedication to wellness practices also brings a sense of community and belonging, whether it’s to a gym or a Facebook group. Raphael says there’s no doubt we can feel part of a special wellness tribe.
“I make the joke that it’s really no different than Harley-Davidson biker gangs. Except you might see someone who’s dressed all in athleisure wear and wearing the right sneakers and you just assume, ‘Oh, that’s one of my people.’”
Petrie reckons the power of the placebo effect should not be overlooked when it comes to perceived benefits from wellness practices and products. Much of his research has focused on this.
“Once you latch on to a wellness product and spend money on it, your cognitive set almost switches to look for positive changes rather than focusing on how sick you are or how many symptoms you’ve got. And when you do that, just that process cashes in on the placebo effect.
“The placebo effect is really what puts money in the bank accounts of wellness providers. They should be thankful for how enormously powerful that is.”
That’s entertainment
So, what’s a healthy way to look at the wellness world? Raphael says wellness is now marketed as fashion and entertainment, following regular fads and trends, and changing every six months.
She has noticed that many of the PR professionals who used to pitch her beauty and fashion brands have now moved into the lucrative wellness sector. “They’re using the same tactics as the beauty industry and the alcohol industry.”
Seeing it as entertainment may be one way to view it – as something fun that might make us feel good temporarily.
Brown says her experience has taught her to take the messages that feel helpful and leave the rest, especially when it comes to mental health.
“I think anything that’s helpful to somebody is fine. Some of the things I’ve done have helped me to open my mind or try new experiences. And if you can afford to do them, then great. Go nuts. But I get concerned about the people who don’t have any money, who are desperate, who are facing actual mental-health problems, who are looking to alternatives like these and who perhaps should be looking in other areas.”
She cautions against “paying for empathy”.
“If you start to feel like you’re paying for a temporary best friend – someone who’s going to make you feel good – that might not actually help you fix the problem.”
Raphael agrees that some wellness practices can have real benefits. But they don’t have to be things we pay for. “To me, really prioritising community and social support is one of the biggest themes and pillars of wellness,” she says.
In practice, that sees her giving importance to Friday night Shabbat dinners. “That is something that’s from my culture and I don’t need to buy some silly venture-capital-funded product for it. There’s a lot to mine within our own cultures that I think is relevant, and I think it’s completely ignored by this industry. Those are the things that work for me.”
Working it out
Things have changed in the gyms of Aotearoa. We’re now working out less in pursuit of the body beautiful, and more in seeking mental balance.
That’s the verdict from research commissioned by Exercise New Zealand in 2022 on Kiwis’ motivations for exercise.
The fitness industry body’s chief executive, Richard Beddie, says this is a big shift from pre-pandemic times. “In 2019, when we asked people what are the reasons you might exercise, we found the top ones were broadly about body transformation – weight loss, looking good. But now the number one reason people say they exercise is mental health, at 69%. It was just 9% three years ago.”
Beddie says weight loss has slipped to about number 15 on the list. “I think that’s a positive because, yes, exercise does help with weight. But when you go to the gym for weight loss and that’s the only reason, then people don’t stay for very long. When you go for mental health, you experience the benefits every time you work out. You feel so much better.”
Beddie has seen a far greater awareness of the many benefits of exercise in our general consciousness in recent times.
Exercise can help prevent many types of diseases, such as cardiovascular diseases and strokes, and can even be helpful for some people receiving treatment for cancer, he says.
“Now we know – boy oh boy, exercise is the magic pill ... It’s phenomenal in terms of the benefits.”
There’s a real cost to not moving, too. Beddie says a 2022 report by Deloitte, commissioned by the fitness industry, estimated productivity loss due to lack of activity at $2.3 billion a year in New Zealand.
It costs the public health system an estimated $450 million a year to treat diseases linked to inactivity.
Gyms and other fitness facilities are easier to engage with these days, he says, because the days of contracts locking consumers in for years at a time are over. That’s partly because of consumer law changes, but also because gyms are responding to demands for more flexibility. “There are lots of clubs where you can join month to month or even week to week.”
And gym-goers seem to be sticking at it. The latest data shows 70% of people who join a gym are still using it 12 months later.
Things at the gym-face are also far more holistic than they used to be. Fitness trainers are focusing on the whole person, not just the physical body.
“Part of the discussion with a trainer is likely to be: how was your sleep last night, and how are you feeling from last week’s training? You might say, ‘I’m having a tough time at work at the moment, so I’m a bit overwhelmed. So, maybe we’ll take it easy today.’ Which has nothing to do with workouts, but everything to do with life.”
This story was originally published in the January 14-20, 2023, issue of the New Zealand Listener.
