Wellness Won’t Save Us

Tim Frie
5 min readNov 15, 2021
Two legs of a light-skinned person crossed over and sticking up out of a white bathtub in the middle of the woods.
Photo by Rafaela Lima from Pexels

There was a long period of time in my life when I truly believed that, if we could get just enough people meditating, lifting weights, and popping a vitamin D supplement every single day, then we could resolve widespread chronic disease and social discord in America.

But after more than ten years of meditating, lifting weights, taking all the supplements daily, and even earning degrees in psychology and human nutrition, I realized that all of these practices were simply shielding and distracting me from deeply-rooted and diffusely distributed systemic problems that remained constant and present all along.

I asked myself: why is it so damn hard to be well in the first place? Why do I have to spend so much money to “achieve wellness?”

And look, there’s absolutely no doubt that, for many, meditation can positively affect our mood, weight lifting can improve our overall health, and vitamin D plays a critical role in preventing disease. In fact, throughout my decade of centering my entire life around health and wellness (which I later found out was in part due to having an eating disorder masked as a “passion for fitness”), I certainly gained so much psychological and physiological strength and flexibility.

But we are still living within an environment that leaves us vulnerable to the downstream effects of systemic shortcomings and demands that have been present for decades.

This is particularly true for people who are members of communities and populations who are historically and currently marginalized, those with chronic or autoimmune diseases, disabilities, and larger bodies, women, immigrants, people with mental illness, and those who don’t speak fluent English.

And we can’t meditate or supplement those downstream effects away.

Many of us have conflated the profit-driven expectations and preferences of consumers (a word I despise) developed by the wellness industry with our own expectations and preferences for ourselves.

Some of us might not even know what our true expectations and prevents are because our only benchmarks are those that we have been developed by the wellness industry and perpetuated by social norms over time.

The wellness industry has mastered the art of how to convince us that supplements, protocols, programs, and practices are the ultimate solutions to everything that we’re struggling with.

It does this so well that it has grown into a $4 trillion global industry.

But that’s simply not true.

The wellness industry is not going to save us — because it can’t.

The wellness industry can’t guarantee homes to people who are unhoused.

The wellness industry can’t ensure food sovereignty and provide food for the people who struggle with food insecurity.

The wellness industry can’t bring harmony to the political discord that results in an absurd amount of government overspending, misappropriation, and blatant human rights violations.

The wellness industry can’t shield us from the chronic exposure to racism, xenophobia, homophobia, fatphobia, and all of the other harmful -isms and stereotypes that have almost become norms in America.

The wellness industry can’t address the structural barriers that prevent access to affordable, compassionate, and inclusive medical and mental health care.

The wellness industry can’t prevent the trauma, abuse, neglect, and adversity that countless families and children experience each year.

And that’s because — despite what the wellness industry claims — we don’t have a chronic deficiency of meditation, supplements, willpower, or discipline that can be solved by wellness industry products and services.

But we do have a critical deficiency of systems, resources, community, support, and care that is accessible to people who need it the most.

We have a critical surplus of social, political, occupational, and environmental insults that are wreaking complete havoc on our minds and bodies.

This is why it’s so hard to be well by default, and this is what the wellness industry relies on to drive profits.

Does this mean that we just give up and stop doing all of the things that make us feel good and improve our health?

Not at all.

But it does mean that we can start to understand and acknowledge that every single aspect of our health and our life — even when we have at least some degree of control or personal agency with how we choose to respond — is so much more than just our personal decisions and choices.

And you know what?

I don’t know what the ultimate solution to any of this is.

I wish I did.

But I do know that we can’t meditate away the systemic effects of injustice and inequity.

I do know that we cannot donate, counsel, or exercise our way out of the widespread downstream effects that result from injustice, inequity, and history.

I know that we can’t continue to abdicate responsibility to solving such pervasive and ubiquitous problems to for-profit industries.

I know that we can’t continue to scream “PRACTICE SELF CARE!” at people who are subject to relentless insult from external inputs.

I know that we can’t keep pushing policy and legislation that has failed people time and time again.

I know that one day we’re just going to “make it through” and the clouds will part if we all just keep going down the same path, keep taking our supplements, and keep logging our workouts at the gym.

We can acknowledge that there are things we can do to take better care of ourselves and acknowledge that everything that happens to us isn’t our fault, doesn’t always happen for a reason, and can’t be resolved by a new wellness program or supplement.

We can tend to ourselves with all of the strategies, techniques, and gadgets, but we need to remember that these things are exactly that: strategies, techniques, and gadgets — not solutions to why we struggle so much to be well in the first place.

We can utilize the programs, products, and services available to care for ourselves and our communities and simultaneously advocate for proactive, preventive, and progressive policy, practices, legislation, and regulations.

We can choose which companies and brands are most accessible, affordable, and aligned with us and learn about and respect the historical, cultural, and sociological origins and implications of wellness, nutrition, and fitness practices that have been co-opted and monetized by the wellness industry.

We can establish our own views, values, and positions on health and wellness and remain mindful of how profit-driven interests, stereotypes, and stigma influence our views, values, and positions.

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Tim Frie

Educator, activist, entrepreneur, and doctoral student exploring trauma-informed care and policy. Follow me at www.instagram.com/thetimfrie.