Health Update: We’re Spending Billions on “Wellness.” It’s Not Making Us Well. – What Experts Say

And yet, everyone’s still tired.

Despite all the biohacking and barre classes, stress levels are higher than ever, mental health is tanking and chronic illness is on the rise. For all the “live your best life” content being shoved down our feeds, a lot of us feel worse — not better.

That’s because most of what’s being sold as “wellness” isn’t actually about making people well. It’s about making money.

“There’s always a new thing,” said Beth McGroarty, director of research and public relations at the Global Wellness Institute. “The wellness market wasn’t driven by doctors and governments. Prevention, which is at the core of what wellness is, is a consumer market.”

Translation: wellness wasn’t born out of public health initiatives. It was built by brands who saw that you were anxious, insecure and exhausted — and realized they could sell you something for that.

To be fair, Western medicine hasn’t exactly nailed prevention.

“You’re not remunerated for exercising and eating healthy or doing meditation or stress reduction by the insurance companies,” McGroarty said. “You’re only remunerated for taking pills or having procedures. So people are taking things into their own hands, and that’s the very positive side.”

But what started as an empowering move away from a broken health system has become a full-blown hustle. What we now call “wellness” is less about caring for your body and more about performing your health for others. If it’s not expensive, exclusive or Instagrammable, does it even count?

McGroarty points to a perfect storm of burnout, skyrocketing chronic disease, and a rising global middle class with money to spend and no time to waste. Combine that with a handful of influencers-turned-gurus repackaging ancient practices they barely understand, and you get the $70 billion self-care circus we’re all caught in. The worst part? We believe them. We let celebrities and TikTokers (most of whom have never studied any of this) tell us what to eat, how to breathe and what supplements we have to buy if we want to be okay.

And we are buying. A 2024 McKinsey report found that Gen Z is spending more on wellness than any other generation — especially on fitness products, mental health tools and self-care. At the same time, Gallup reports that nearly half of Americans say they experience daily stress, and the American Psychological Association says burnout has hit record levels. Something’s clearly not working.

The problem isn’t taking care of yourself. That’s biblical. In 1 Corinthians 6, Paul calls our bodies temples of the Holy Spirit. Health matters. Movement matters. Rest matters. But what doesn’t help? Turning our bodies into projects and our peace into a purchase.

Wellness, the way it’s marketed today, is just diet culture with a prettier font. Instead of low-carb, it’s “gut health.” Instead of weight loss, it’s “balancing hormones.” Instead of fat shaming, it’s “biohacking.” But the pressure is still the same: fix yourself. And the solution is still the same: buy more stuff.

Sure, some people are cashing in. Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop empire is worth more than $250 million. Brands like Equinox and Alo Yoga have turned self-care into a luxury lifestyle. Wellness is no longer about feeling good — it’s about looking like someone who has their life together.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are trying to navigate a system that rewards image over impact. Gym memberships are up, but so are obesity and eating disorders. A recent JAMA study found that orthorexia — an obsession with clean eating — is rising fast, especially in online spaces where health content blurs into aesthetic pressure.

Even the “mental health” corner of the market is turning into a cash grab. Meditation apps are selling premium subscriptions. Instagram therapists are selling digital courses and burnout journals. There’s nothing wrong with tools that help — but when basic mental health care becomes a luxury product, we’ve got a problem.

So, what does real health actually look like?

It looks a lot less like your feed — and a lot more like your daily rhythms. It’s boring, honestly. It’s walking. Stretching. Drinking water. Sleeping. Eating food that nourishes and satisfies, not because it’s trending but because it fuels you. It’s caring for your mind and spirit — not through a $150 breathwork class but through Sabbath, prayer, community and boundaries.

Real wellness doesn’t require a rebrand. It requires presence. Faithfulness. A little patience. And maybe some therapy and a burrito.

It’s also worth saying: health shouldn’t be a financial burden. The Gospel doesn’t say, “Come to me, all who are weary, and I’ll sell you a subscription box.” Jesus didn’t gatekeep peace. You shouldn’t have to either.

So if you’re tired of keeping up with the endless trends, detoxes, “healing protocols” and hot girl walks — you’re not doing it wrong. You’re just ready to opt out. And that’s a good thing.