The Evolution of the Wellness Industry: From Hippie Crystals to Digital Longevity
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose
The wellness industry, a sprawling realm devoted to human health and happiness, has undergone a fascinating evolution over the past six decades, transforming from a fringe movement championed by counterculture enthusiasts to a mainstream, multi-billion-dollar industry that permeates every aspect of modern life.
From the experimental days of the 1970s to today's high-tech, data-driven approaches, new trends and philosophies have characterized each new era regarding the meaning of wellness, well-being, and longevity. Each interpretation holds legitimate advances in health science, but simultaneously, it has created opportunities for charlatans, pseudoscientists, and snake oil salesmen to exploit our deepest desires.
Now, more than ever, society's obsession with life optimization and self-improvement is growing. In its latest incarnation, a devotional fervor has taken hold of “wellness.” For many, the $480 billion industry has supplanted traditional religious practices and become a secular elixir for cultural anxieties and a source of meaning in an increasingly complex world.
This new level of devotion has made the industry susceptible to false prophets and profitable deception. The compelling narratives of social media “wellness prophets” prioritize engagement over evidence, creating a dangerous illusion of expertise. Alongside new advances, we now need a dose of healthy skepticism to protect ourselves from pseudoscience and marketing that pretends to be wisdom and complicates our choices while eroding our trust.
By looking at the wellness industry through its six distinct phases throughout the decades, I want to examine both legitimate advances in health science and the parallel rise of wellness misinformation that has flourished as these practices moved from the margins to the mainstream. Interestingly, the devotional fervor surrounding wellness has, for many, supplanted traditional religious practices and become a secular panacea for cultural anxieties that are susceptible to false prophets and profitable deception.
Wellness 1.0: The 1970s | Crystals & Organic
The story of modern wellness began long before crystals and meditation studios became mainstream. In the 1950s, while America embraced post-war prosperity and conventional medicine focused on treating acute illnesses, Dr. Halbert L. Dunn quietly sparked a revolution. Known today as the "father of the wellness movement," he introduced the concept of "high-level wellness"—a radical vision that went beyond merely treating disease to embracing a complete integration of physical, mental, and spiritual well-being. When traditional medicine viewed the body as a collection of separate parts to be fixed individually, Dunn's holistic approach was revolutionary.
The 1960s counterculture movement created the perfect environment for Dunn's ideas to flourish. As trust in established institutions waned and people sought alternatives to conventional wisdom, an alternative approach to health began taking shape. The movement gained momentum through pioneering figures who transformed American attitudes toward health: Maharishi Mahesh Yogi introduced Western audiences to meditation, that a mind-body connection influenced our health. Alice Waters championed organic foods as an alternative to processed ingredients, and Jim Fixx helped transform running from an athlete's pursuit into a widespread fitness practice.
I witnessed this transformation firsthand in the early 1970s in Marin County, Northern California. The air still carried the lingering essence of the hippie movement, and our backyard became a microcosm of this cultural shift. Inspired by the visionary architect Buckminster Fuller, my father, author and neurosurgeon, Dr. Leonard Shlain, constructed a geodesic dome that housed a 12-foot diameter redwood hot tub. Inside, macrame plant hangers swayed gently to the sounds of Pink Floyd and Jefferson Starship. But this wasn't just about alternative architecture or decorative choices—each element represented a deeper philosophy.
Our geodesic dome embodied the principles of sustainable living and harmony with nature. The redwood hot tub was more than a place for relaxation; it became a communal space where healing conversations and meditation naturally emerged. Even the macrame plant hangers spoke to a larger movement: a return to handcrafted, natural materials in defiance of an increasingly industrialized world.
Throughout the 1970s, these threads wove together into a coherent wellness movement. People embraced crystals for their supposed healing energies, explored pyramid power in meditation practices, and abandoned 1950s processed food diets to eat organic. While many of these practices lacked scientific validation, they represented something more significant: a fundamental shift in how people approached their health and well-being.
The lasting impact of this era extends far beyond its more esoteric elements. The movement wasn't simply about adopting new health practices; it represented a rebellion against the status quo and a reclaiming of personal autonomy in health and lifestyle matters. The core principles established during this time—the integration of mind and body, the importance of preventive care, and the value of natural approaches to health—continue to be the backbone of modern wellness practices.
Looking back, I see how this era laid the foundation for today's multifaceted wellness industry. While some practices from the 1970s may now seem dated, the fundamental vision—that true health encompasses body, mind, and spirit—has become increasingly relevant in our modern world. As we face new health challenges and seek balance in an increasingly fragmented society, the pioneering spirit of this movement continues to guide our understanding of what it means to be truly well.
Wellness 2.0: The 1980s The Fitness and Diet Craze
Consumerism and a focus on self-improvement surged as the economy grew during the 1980s. People sought ways to project success and personal achievement. Wellness practices focused on community and spirituality prioritized psychological resilience and self-reliance, integrating these into daily routines.
Physical fitness became a status symbol. With its heart-pounding routines and group fitness classes, the flashy aesthetics of aerobics and gym culture mirrored the decade’s love for bold fashion and excess. Community gym classes playing Bon Jovi rock anthems and Michael Jackson replaced the 70s communal vibes of hot tubs and meditation classes. Jack LaLanne promoted a holistic approach to fitness and vitality. Jane Fonda, with her signature aerobics videos, and Richard Simmons, whose dance-inspired aerobics encouraged people of all ages and body types to get moving, became household names.
Arnold Schwarzenegger’s rise as a bodybuilding icon brought this form of fitness strength training into the spotlight. Once limited to bodybuilding circles, it contributed to understanding the importance of sustained physical activity for heart health, weight management, and overall fitness for both men and women.
Simultaneously, there was a major shift toward low-fat and calorie-counting diets, spurred by growing concerns over heart disease and metabolic syndrome. Dr. Dean Ornish became influential in supporting a low-fat diet to prevent heart disease. At the same time, Susan Powter’s energy and advocacy for dieting made her a popular figure in the wellness world.
The language of self-care shifted toward an actionable, goal-oriented approach that fit the aspirational, fast-paced lifestyle of the 1980s. Louise Hay’s work on self-love and affirmations and Dr. Wayne Dyer’s insights in Your Erroneous Zones promoted self-love and personal growth as tools for outward achievement and self-optimization, not just peace of mind.
This new drive, which combined outward appearance, aesthetic excess, and the lasting effects of 1970s self-care, led to spa culture, which focused on self-pampering and beauty treatments as integral parts of wellness. Elizabeth Arden pioneered the day spa experience, while Aida Grey’s focus on beauty and cosmetics helped cement these services as part of a holistic approach to health.
While some trends from the era proved to be less scientifically sound, we now know that not all fats are harmful, and reliance on extreme calorie counting can be unsustainable. However, the legacy of the 1980s continues to influence the combination of physical, mental, and emotional well-being practices adapted to fit the digital age and today's more informed and holistic understanding of health.
Wellness 3.0 - 1990s: Self-Care and Alternative Medicine Go Mainstream
The transition from the bold consumerism and high-energy lifestyle of the 1980s to a period that reflected more introspection and holistic exploration defined the 1990s. The end of the Cold War and economic prosperity contributed to a societal backdrop where people felt more secure and willing to invest in their health and well-being, reflecting a cultural shift toward valuing balance, sustainability, and well-being over quick results. Increased access to global information and the tech boom caused alternative medicine to transition from the fringes to the mainstream. Combined with a growing skepticism toward purely conventional medicine, emerging studies that highlighted the benefits of integrating traditional healing practices with modern healthcare amplified this shift. Practices like acupuncture, herbalism, and chiropractic care became integrated into traditional healthcare settings as part of Complementary and Alternative Medicine. Deepak Chopra’s promotion of Ayurvedic medicine provided a new perspective on health rooted in balance and holistic principles. At the same time, Dr. Andrew Weil’s advocacy helped make alternative approaches like herbal remedies and lifestyle medicine more visible..
In fitness, many people experienced burnout and injuries in the 1980s and began to seek a more balanced, mindful approach to health and fitness. Low-impact, mindful practices like Pilates fit this need, offering strength-building, core strength, improved posture, and enhanced flexibility without the harsh impact of high-intensity workouts. Although Joseph Pilates created the discipline in the early 20th century, celebrities popularized it through teachers like Romana Kryzanowska, attracting fitness enthusiasts interested in a mindful, less intense form of strength training.
Diet trends also evolved, with a shift toward low-carb, high-protein diets and an increased awareness of food sensitivities. Robert Atkins’ Atkins Diet became a phenomenon, encouraging people to reduce carbs, while Barry Sears’ The Zone Diet further solidified the era’s focus on high-protein, balanced meals.
The idea of “detoxing” through special diets, juices, and cleanses also gained traction in wellness. Stanley Burroughs’ Master Cleanse, later promoted by Peter Glickman, became a popular regimen for those seeking to “reset” their systems and eliminate toxins.
A growing awareness of burnout combined with this increased awareness about Eastern philosophies expanded mental health awareness by popularizing self-help books and therapeutic practices. Marianne Williamson’s spiritual self-help writings and Eckhart Tolle’s insights in The Power of Now resonated with the public by highlighting the importance of emotional balance and mindfulness as a healthy lifestyle.
Wellness 4.0: The 2000s | Beauty & Botox
As Baby Boomers hit middle age, Wellness 4.0 catalyzed a revolutionary shift in how society approached aging. The traditional wellness paradigm expanded beyond physical fitness to encompass a more nuanced fusion of internal health and external beauty. This time marked a fascinating dichotomy in human consciousness: a simultaneous pursuit of inner enlightenment and external perfection. This era witnessed the unprecedented convergence of ancient wisdom and cutting-edge aesthetics. Boutique med spas and wellness centers emerged as sanctuaries where Eastern healing modalities coexisted with Western cosmetic innovations such as Botox, dermal fillers, and advanced facial treatments. Taken together, it established a comprehensive approach to self-optimization that sparked profound discussions about authenticity, aging, and the intersection of internal well-being with new health technologies to look younger on the outside. The real tragedy is that it was the societal ‘head fake’ that ignored the profound rise of metabolic syndrome, which can only be measured by blood tests, not the mirror.
The rise of non-invasive treatments and preventative aging protocols reflected a sophisticated understanding that wellness encompassed both the visible and invisible aspects of health. This era challenged conventional notions of aging, beauty, and self-improvement while raising important questions about societal pressures, accessibility, and the true meaning of holistic well-being in a world increasingly focused on external validation.
What emerged were wellness practices that acknowledged both the timeless wisdom of ancient traditions and the innovative potential of modern beauty science. Wellness 4.0 represented a movement and a fundamental reimagining of how individuals could pursue inner peace and outer beauty in their journey toward optimal health and self-expression.
Wellness 5.0: 2007-2019 | The Quantified Self, Digital Health and Psychedelics
Wellness 5.0, which emerged around 2007, further pushed the convergence of digital innovation and personalized health optimization, driven by a data revolution that would prove to be both illuminating and obscuring.
Wired magazine editors Gary Wolf and Kevin Kelly coined the term "quantified self" in 2007 in San Francisco. They envisioned it as a collaborative community of users and tool makers united by their interest in self-knowledge through data tracking.
This fundamental change transcended the aesthetic-mindfulness fusion of its predecessor, ushering in an era in which data analytics transformed the subjective pursuit of well-being into a quantifiable science—yet quantity did not necessarily translate to quality.
The proliferation of sophisticated biometric devices—from the Fitbit to the Apple Watch—democratized access to previously clinical-grade health metrics, while platforms like Headspace reimagined ancient mindfulness practices through algorithmic precision.
This democratization of data coincided with the rise of digital wellness prophets, whose charismatic presence often overshadowed scientific rigor. We know there have always been charlatans throughout wellness history, but the DIY wellness movement, amplified by social media, created a paradoxical landscape where access to information proliferated while genuine expertise became increasingly difficult to discern.
The rise of personalized data analytics, in many ways, became a new form of mysticism.
This technological renaissance ostensibly empowered individuals to become empirical architects of their own health destiny, offering unprecedented insights into sleep architecture, cardiovascular dynamics, and stress patterns. Yet the sheer volume of data and a lack of robust analytical frameworks often led to a kind of wellness paralysis—where more information bred greater anxiety rather than clarity. The movement's sophisticated veneer belied a troubling undercurrent: the gap between data collection and meaningful interpretation was widening.
While functional medicine pioneers like Dr. Mark Hyman leveraged advanced diagnostics and food science to decode the intricate interplay between lifestyle and chronic disease, countless self-proclaimed experts emerged, armed with compelling narratives but dubious credentials. This created a wellness ecosystem where scientific insight often competed with persuasive but unsubstantiated claims, leaving many individuals overwhelmed by choices rather than empowered by knowledge.
Wellness 5.0 emerged as a technological upgrade and a complex sociological phenomenon, highlighting the critical distinction between data accumulation and actionable insights. This era revealed that the true sophistication of wellness lay not in the quantity of data gathered but in the wisdom to interpret it meaningfully, pushing us to question whether our ability to measure had outpaced our capacity to understand.
Another phenomenon in the wellness-adjacent community is the renaissance in psychedelic research and a growing acceptance of alternative healing modalities; we're seeing many of the movement's early insights validated by modern science. Major institutions are now studying the therapeutic potential of psychedelics for treating mental health conditions, while practices like meditation and organic living have become mainstream wellness strategies. The movement wasn't just about adopting new health practices; it was a fundamental reimagining of human potential and our relationship with consciousness, community, and the natural world.
Wellness 6.0: 2018-present | The Longevity Movement, Digital Twins and Beyond
We are now amid a new movement, Wellness 6.0
Catalyzed by the global pandemic of 2020 it marks a profound shift in humanity's relationship with mortality and longevity. This era didn't develop naturally from wellness culture but emerged from a composite of existential anxiety, technological opportunism, and institutional mistrust—forming a perfect storm for what we might call "desperation innovation."
The pandemic's collective trauma accelerated an already growing obsession with life extension, transforming the pursuit of longevity from a fringe bio-hacking movement into a mainstream preoccupation. This shift has coincided with—and is amplified by—the rising influence of social media wellness prophets, whose compelling narratives often prioritize engagement over evidence. While potentially empowering, democratizing medical information has created a dangerous illusion of expertise, which Instagram followers now equate with medical credibility.
Private equity's aggressive consolidation and investor enthusiasm of the wellness industry have further distorted the landscape, transforming evidence-based practices into profit-driven protocols. Clinical interventions—IV therapies, hormone treatments, and MRI scans—are being repackaged as preventive luxuries, divorced from their original diagnostic contexts. Now, you can order an NAD+ IV drip at your home from an app promoted on TikTok. This commercialization of longevity solutions creates a troubling paradigm where access to these interventions is more dependent on wealth than medical necessity.
The erosion of trust in traditional healthcare systems, exacerbated by the pandemic's political polarization, fueled a DIY approach to longevity. Armed with fragments of scientific studies and influenced by charismatic wellness influencers, consumers self-prescribe biological interventions—from peptide therapies to experimental supplements—without fully comprehending their systemic implications or the quality and provenance of the chemicals they are putting in their bodies. The "bio-hacking" movement, while rooted in legitimate scientific inquiry, is developing into a dangerous form of trial and error, where the long-term consequences remain unknown. People are effectively gambling with their future selves - and my guess is that one shouldn’t bet against the house - especially when that house is run by a power couple: Mother Nature and Father Time.
This era's defining paradox lies in its simultaneous sophistication and naivety. Meaningful breakthroughs in longevity research and AI offer genuine promise, yet the commercialization of these insights has created a marketplace where hope often outpaces evidence. The wellness industry's transformation reflects a broader societal tension between our technological capabilities and our wisdom to deploy them appropriately.
Cold plunges, infrared saunas, and "optimized" supplement stacks are becoming the new status symbols of wellness culture, yet their efficacy in meaningfully extending health spans remains interesting and largely unproven. The industry's focus on selling longevity "futures"—promising tomorrow's health through today's interventions—creates a speculative market in personal wellness, where the currency is hope, and the collateral is often health itself. Our desire to extend life needs to be balanced against the risk of diminishing its quality in pursuit of quantity.
There is cautious optimism about the concept of the digital twin, a representation of your biology that can be experimented on ex vivo. It is essentially a proving ground for how your body might respond to certain treatments and interventions.
Reflecting on this sweeping evolution of wellness culture, I find myself back in Northern California, where it all began. In place of the geodesic dome from my youth, there now stands a simpler sanctuary, an outdoor shower beneath a fig tree, where water drops glisten in the morning light, similar to how macramé crystals used to sway in our backyard. Fifty years after my father's backyard experiment in countercultural living, I still walk the trails around Phoenix Lake in the shadow of Mt. Tamalpais, breathing the same Pacific coastal air that once carried the sweet promises of the wellness revolution.
The industry has transformed from those innocent days of hot tubs and Pink Floyd into a matrix of longevity technologies, digital optimization, and bio-enhancement. Yet here, among the ancient redwoods that have witnessed it all, I maintain the perspective of both a curious physician inspired by science and innovation and a confounded voyeur of longevity experiments, watching as our collective pursuit of wellness enters perhaps its most ambitious phase yet.
As artificial intelligence, synthetic biology, brain-computer interfaces, and psychedelic science converge to create Wellness 6.0, I can't help but smile at how far we've come from that simple geodesic dome.
I recently curated a group of scientists at DOC: Truth in Medicine, with realpolitik conversations about where science and medicine need to focus rather than where influencers and pseudoscientists want it to focus. There is a great promise to prevent and treat heart disease, cancer, and neurodegenerative disease.
Humanity's eternal quest for meaning and vitality remains constant beneath the layers of technological sophistication and market manipulation, but now more than ever, we need to take a deep breath, try to be smart, and not do harm.
Raw nature reminds me that sometimes the simplest paths to wellness are the most enduring—a lesson as relevant now as it was in the movement's early days. We should all take a lesson from my favorite 14th-century philosopher, William of Occam:
Occam's razor, or the principle of parsimony, tells us that the simplest, most elegant explanation is usually the one closest to the truth.
As well as my favorite 1st-century physician, Aulus Cornelius Celsus
“Live in rooms full of light. Avoid heavy food. Be moderate in drinking of wine. Take massage, baths, exercise and gymnastics. Fight insomnia with gentle rocking or the sound of running water. Change surroundings and take long journeys. Strictly avoid frightening ideas. Indulge in cheerful conversation and amusements. Listen to music.”
~ De Medicina – Aulus Cornelius Celsus c25 B.C – 50 A.D.
Stay curious, my friends.
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