Remember the days when “wellness” merely conjured up images of green juice-drinking influencers? Now the idea of wellness is so much bigger than the occasional cleanse. The Global Wellness Institute posits that it will be a $9 trillion industry by 2028, making it an even bigger industry than “Big Pharma.” That includes everything from spas and mineral springs to mental health, personal care, and beauty. Your gym membership is considered part of the wellness industry. Even your religious beliefs could ladder up into wellness.
But is all this focus on well-being truly making us feel better — physically or mentally? In her latest book, How to Be Well, journalist Amy Larocca, who spent 20 years at New York magazine in various roles, including fashion director, analyzes the increasing fixation with “health” and dismantles the lies we’ve been told piece by piece. We spoke to Larocca about the biggest wellness myths you might still be following, what’s fueling the MAHA movement, and more.
Katie Couric Media: What was it like writing this book before RFK Jr. became Health Secretary? Was MAHA on your mind during the process?
Amy Larocca: I worked on this book during Covid, and it definitely changed a lot of my thinking about wellness. I remember the day Trump made his offhand comment about drinking bleach and thinking, “Oh yeah. We’re in really uncharted waters here,” and then as the data started coming in about who was getting sick and who was dying from the virus, thinking, “This is exactly what’s so dangerous about treating health as a luxury product, marketing it like a handbag or a pair of shoes.” I had already finished the book and sent it off to the press by the time RFK got his job and MAHA took root, but it seemed like we were facing the scariest possible version of what I’d been thinking and writing about, like the worst-case scenario.
I repeatedly encountered situations while researching this book where people were completely aware that they were falling for practices that were dubious at best, but opting in anyway.
You write that debunking a wellness myth often has the opposite effect in terms of how much people believe in it. It can just make it more popular. So how can we help people understand when they’re falling for misinformation or disinformation?
I repeatedly encountered situations while researching this book where people were completely aware that they were falling for practices that were dubious at best, but opting in anyway. One super clear example was with juice cleanses in the early 2000s. I interviewed the founders of the Blueprint juice cleanse, which was one of the early pioneers in that space, and they told me that they were always worried after an article would appear in a big, reputable publication disputing the safety and efficacy of juice cleansing. These articles would feature doctors from Ivy League medical schools just absolutely bashing juice cleansing, and Blueprint would brace for a slow week, but in fact, it just increased demand.
You could say there’s no such thing as bad press, but I think it’s more than that. On one very simple level, I think there’s a very disturbing drive to lose weight in our culture, because you see a similar phenomenon with colonics — no doctor will endorse them. Yet, they remain very popular in certain wellness circles. Another reason is that there seems to be a drive to have a secret, to know more than everyone else, that is endemic in wellness. Also, our traditional channels of information and who can be trusted are corrupted right now, and it can be difficult to know who to trust and who to believe.
Do you see any connections to the information crisis in the news? Throughout history, there have been periods where mistrust of authorities is high. Do you think where we are right now is another iteration of that cycle, or something deeper?
I think this is absolutely another iteration of that cycle, this time on steroids, because of the diverse methods of news distribution — people are getting their news from social media, and what qualifies someone as an authority is unclear. Looking great in a bikini and having a lot of followers doesn’t necessarily mean you know the first thing about health or medicine, but people will do what you say.
Do you think the Ozempic craze ties into your observation of beauty being rebranded as wellness? If so, do you see any issues with that?
I worry that Ozempic — which I’m totally in favor of when it’s needed — undoes some of the progress that was being made in body positivity and acceptance. I just worry that we were maybe making some microscopic steps in the direction of being OK with the idea that not all bodies need to fit a certain size, and that we’re now getting back to the idea that thin, thin, thin is the only way to go.
As you write in the book, people often turn to sham alternatives out of desperation and being dismissed by medical professionals. How do you think the medical community should tackle this problem? Do you think any strides are being made?
I think we need to really listen to and research the medical concerns of communities who have been previously ignored and underserved — like women and minorities. I think doctors need to really listen to patients and be given the resources to do that. But I worry that this administration’s policies are undoing progress that has been made recently.
What do you think is the biggest wellness myth people buy into right now?
Supplements! Please stop buying supplements! If you are diagnosed with a deficiency, by all means, treat it with a supplement, but otherwise, please stop. Also, please stop following diets that eliminate entire food groups.
Speaking of myths, you went to the Goop wellness summit, which is famous for being overpriced, woo-woo, and over-hyped. What was the wildest thing you saw there?
Funnily enough, what struck me at first was how un-wild a lot of it was. Like how much “eat your salmon and blueberries and spinach” there was, how much boring wellness 101 was going on. Like, I paid $1000 to be told that olive oil is good for you? And then there was just so much blatant B.S. — like an aura reader telling me I was purple, that kind of thing. That was silly, but kind of banal. And then some of it was outright enraging, like Caroline Myss, the “intuitive” who attributed disease to mental states, saying that people with thyroid conditions really needed to look at their anger rather than taking Synthroid. My daughter was born with a tumor that required the removal of her thyroid, and listening to this woman, I was so angry I practically levitated.
