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The State of Wellbeing:
Are We Unwell?
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When I have a bad day, it feels like the end of the world.
Then, the quest for a quick fix begins. A new lipgloss? Swedish candy. Maybe a pilates class, shot of olive oil, and red light therapy? AG1 Greens. A Sonny Angel. More Swedish candy. Cancelled plans. A lobotomy. Endless choices for a euphoric five minutes.
But then the high wears off, and I feel unwell— why?
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My hypothesis is that we’ve long been conflating wellness with wellbeing, and it’s finally catching up to us.*
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*While definitions are elusive and debated, for the sake of this discussion, let's define the two terms as follows:
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Wellness: the improvement of the self as defined by the self.
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Wellbeing: how we feel and function personally and socially, and how we evaluate our lives as a whole.
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Our Founder, Alain Sylvain, clocked the beginnings of this conflation back in 2017 in a talk he gave on the future of wellbeing.
At the time, the cultural obsession with productivity and “hustle culture” was waning. Overworked, stressed-out Americans were finding respite in mindfulness coloring books, juice cleanses, meditation apps, and Goop’s infamous Yoni eggs—marking an era of unapologetic, indulgent self-care that Alain coined as Wellbeing 1.0 (2014-2016). But what started as a simple desire to feel better quickly morphed into an unrelenting pursuit of perfection, as brands began to sell wellbeing as an exclusive, aspirational lifestyle.
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Then, everything changed.
Trump secured his first win, Eric Garner and Michael Brown were brutally murdered by police, Dreamers faced the threat of deportation with the announcement of DACA's termination, and 17 lives were lost in the Parkland High School shooting. In the face of ongoing crises, people turned to each other, joining together to challenge broken systems and create collective impact.
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For Alain, this signaled that a shift was approaching: if Wellbeing 1.0 was about looking inward to the self, the evolved Wellbeing 2.0 was about looking outward to the world and the communities around us. And in Wellbeing 2.0, the role of brands wasn’t to perpetuate an unattainable ideal, it was to meet consumers where they were at, acting as active tools for social change.
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Alain's predictions weren't necessarily wrong, but given how things have snowballed in the last four years, Wellbeing 2.0 now feels almost pollyannaish. The pandemic hit, Roe v. Wade was overturned, U.S. inflation hit a forty-year high, school shootings only increased, natural disasters surged—the list goes on. And something happened that Alain may not have predicted when he imagined increasingly progressive eras of wellbeing: we devolved.
From the Goopies of 2014 to the Wellness Girlies of today, we’re back in a similar self-care game, but now on a $6.3 trillion playing field, fueled by a massive influencer economy and new social players (namely, TikTok). The sheer size of the industry makes wellness feel inescapable—and brands are complicit in fueling a never-ending chase for more and better.
Today, brands are selling wellness as a shortcut to wellbeing. It’s not just about an aspirational lifestyle anymore, it’s about projecting a false sense of control—the promise of certainty and agency amidst the unpredictability of everyday life. When you can’t find time for a doctor’s appointment, try a bevy of supplements. When racing thoughts about work are keeping you up at night, try an Oura Ring. When the world is crumbling around you and everything feels out of reach, try wellness. As Sophie Gilbert outlines in The Atlantic:
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“Possibly, this is why the gambit of wellness is so seductive—it’s a familiar bargain with a familiarly vague payout. Do more so you can get by. Pay money for the promise of relief, if not release. We’re so inured to the idea that we can win by just working a little harder when what we really need are radical structural overhauls…”
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The truth is that there is no such thing as a shortcut to wellbeing.
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It’s not a destination or an achievement. It's not something you can swipe your credit card for or have delivered to your doorstep in two days. It's an ongoing practice related to how you feel, function, and connect with yourself and the world around you. Self-care is a valid part of this practice, but it’s only one small part. And by narrowing in only on ourselves, we lose sight of essential pieces of wellbeing like social connection and emotional intelligence. We miss the forest for the trees.
As we’ve gotten used to a “faster, quicker” mindset, playing the long game often feels like a foreign concept. Socializing becomes a chore, minor inconveniences insurmountable, and our tolerance for discomfort paper-thin. Flaking on plans, bed rotting, and setting boundaries may feel liberating in the moment, especially when we’re all burnt out and overworked. But in the longer term, research shows that an over-reliance on an inward focus (triggered by frequent change or indescribable feelings of impending doom), can have lasting effects. According to Anthropologist Sarah Anne Robinson:
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“Anomia exhibits self-centeredness, reduction in altruism and compassion, distrust of 'others,' apathy or hyperactivity or a vacillation between both, and can develop alienation and anger.”
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If our efforts are backfiring—if we’re feeling unwell—the next natural question is: how do we get back to a more holistic definition of wellbeing? And importantly, how can brands reorient to help us change course?
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Consumers are tired of investing in wellness and not feeling well at all. Tired of brands over-promising individualistic solutions to systemic problems. And early signs are showing a return to—wait for it—community: young people joining game clubs to combat their loneliness, students occupying Columbia’s South Lawn for 14-days in solidarity with Gaza, and mutual aid organizations nationwide rallying to support victims of the LA fires.
As consumers confront harsh truths about an uncertain future, maybe it’s time for brands to take accountability and do the same—by getting honest with us and with themselves. Brands have demonstrated their might in the space of wellness. Imagine if that money and energy was diverted into something more collective, more energetic.
What does it look like for brands to get honest about the role they play in facilitating our collective wellbeing, instead of just our personal perception of wellness?
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Know your limits.
In a world where kids are having birthday parties at Sephora, Kiehl's is explicitly saying 'no' to selling skincare to children. Kiehl’s “Kids should stay kids” campaign confronts cultural discourse about the increase in young kids adopting adult skincare routines, clarifying who their products are actually meant for and what a fulfilling childhood really looks like. This statement goes beyond just this campaign, with parent company L’Oréal pledging to not market products to kids under 16 or partner with influencers who are under legal age.
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Amplify what’s authentic.
Outdoor equipment brand Arc'teryx partnered with Bouldering Project in Brooklyn to provide Free Climb Fridays and other events for climbers of all levels. Arc'teryx was honest with themselves about the role they play in consumers' lives, knowing it wasn’t as authentic or impactful for them to build a community from scratch. Instead, they tapped into the power of an existing one, amplifying climbing culture and decentering themselves.
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Serve the need, not the noise.
Digital media company theSkimm republished the contents of reproductiverights.gov (a resource created after the overturning of Roe v. Wade) when the site went down on the second day of President Trump’s second term. Rather than exacerbating fear with clickbait, theSkimm stayed dedicated to their responsibility as a trusted news source for women, providing access to crucial information about their rights through rapid change and uncertainty.
It’s clear that when brands are more honest about the role they play in our lives they can both further our wellbeing and expand our definition of what it means to be well. So, I encourage those of you who work with brands to ask yourselves: Are your efforts actually making your customers well? If not, try looking outside of yourself—to culture, to communities—and rethink how you can adjust to drive collective wellbeing.
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Claire is a Strategist at SYLVAIN. With a background in design, she’s especially passionate about the intersection of strategy and design, and how the two practices can come together to create honest, innovative work.
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About Progress Report: The State Of
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Progress Report is dedicated to providing inspiration for action. In this special newsletter series, The State Of, we dive a little deeper into the long-term work that comes after, in the places where we’re seeing new types of progress in action. From brand strategy to design, internet trends to sustainability, music to science, beauty to travel, and more.
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