Lighthouse Secret: Gone Without a Trace 🌊🤫

Tech & Science

When I turned 18, I transitioned from my pediatrician, whom I’d seen since birth, and entered the realm of adult healthcare, marking the last time I had a consistent primary care physician. Although I still receive an annual physical examination, these are conducted with different doctors each year, dictated by my location, insurance coverage, and the availability of appointments – frequently requiring several phone calls and extended periods on hold. Obtaining timely appointments remains challenging; consequently, I often seek immediate care at urgent care centers, anticipating potential wait times of an hour or more. During these visits, I typically experience a cold, clinical encounter in a sparsely furnished room with a physician unfamiliar with my medical history. According to a 2023 study by the National Association of Community Health Centers and the American Academy of Family Physicians, over 100 million Americans – approximately one-third of the population – face barriers to accessing primary care, a figure that has nearly doubled since 2014. Several factors have contributed to this difficulty, including the closure or acquisition of solo practice family medicine physician offices, declining reimbursement rates from insurance companies, and the significant administrative burdens faced by family medicine physicians. Furthermore, family medicine is one of the lowest-paying specialties, which has discouraged students from pursuing it. These access challenges are particularly pronounced for women and BIPOC individuals.

Communities, particularly Black women, are disproportionately more likely to experience medical gaslighting, which significantly reduces their trust in healthcare providers. Trust represents a substantial hurdle when accessing care. Survey data reveals a decline in confidence in institutionalized expertise within the United States since the 1950s. This erosion of faith has been fueled by a series of scandals involving the pharmaceutical and food industries throughout the late 20th century, leading to widespread distrust regarding the financial and political motivations of scientific and medical institutions. The COVID-19 pandemic further solidified this distrust; according to the Pew Research Center, confidence in scientists acting in the public’s best interests dropped by 14% between April 2020 and fall 2023. Simultaneously, platforms like TikTok, YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram feature individuals whose lives are purportedly enhanced by wellness rituals and products. These channels collectively promote a multitrillion-dollar wellness industry, encompassing areas such as mental wellness, healthy eating, physical activity, wellness tourism, weight loss, homeopathic and naturopathic alternative medicine, personal care, beauty, and more. However, many of these creators and their motivations are varied, ranging from qualified medical professionals with corporate sponsorships to influencers lacking medical training who accept gifts or promote products through advertisements.

Wellness influencers often promote the idea that individuals have complete control over their health through specific actions, despite the potential for this to be misleading. The Federal Trade Commission mandates that brand partnerships be clearly disclosed—typically using hashtags like #ad or #sponsored—but even with these disclosures, these videos frequently create an impression of total control. “Wellness influencers do very well at making it seem like if you do X, you will be healthier,” explains Jessica B. Steier, who holds a doctorate in public health and is the founder and host of Unbiased Science and executive director of the Science Literacy Lab. “This makes people feel empowered.” The ease with which individuals are drawn into misinformation—particularly when the influencer’s facts are inaccurate or intentionally misleading—is concerning. Wellness influencers can disseminate misinformation widely across the internet, and the repercussions extend beyond social media. Indeed, “misinformation about science is information that asserts or implies claims that are inconsistent with the weight of accepted scientific evidence at the time (reflecting both quality and quantity of evidence).” A notable example is Belle Gibson, an Australian wellness influencer who, at age 22 in 2013, became a prominent source of health care misinformation online, inspiring the Netflix series *Apple Cider Vinegar*.

She falsely claimed to have terminal brain and other cancers to her Instagram followers, asserting that she was healing herself naturally through a healthy diet rather than undergoing chemotherapy or radiation. Leveraging this deception, she launched her wellness app, The Whole Pantry, and a cookbook, generating approximately half a million dollars in revenue within the first two years. Fitness influencer Brian Johnson, also known as Liver King, gained a significant following through his promotion of a highly unconventional lifestyle on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. In 2021, Johnson encouraged followers to consume raw animal organs, participate in intense fitness challenges, adopt an “ancestral” way of life, and utilize supplements from his brand, which achieved an annual turnover of $100 million. Later that year, leaked emails revealed that the then-43-year-old was secretly injecting himself with performance-enhancing drugs, including steroids and human growth hormone. These influencer-promoted lifestyles have tragically resulted in fatalities. Paloma Shemirani died at age 23 from a heart attack stemming from an untreated tumor after rejecting chemotherapy in favor of the Gerson therapy – encompassing coffee enemas, supplements, and a plant-based diet with raw juices – as advised by her mother, Kate Shemirani, a known anti-vaccine influencer. Furthermore, other anti-vaccine influencers have reportedly died as a result of contracting COVID-19, including Dmitriy Stuzhukin, who in 2020 promoted the idea that the virus was not real, and Cirsten Weldon.

In 2022, misinformation and conspiracy theories regarding the illness proliferated, and the challenge of discerning trustworthy voices within the wellness sector has become even more pronounced with Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s appointment as the U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services. Notably, Mr. Kennedy is not a medical doctor and lacks a background in medicine; furthermore, he frequently associates with wellness influencers who promote the “Make America Healthy Again” agenda. The question arises: why might individuals place greater trust in these influencers over their own physicians? When asked for his perspective, Dr. Garth Graham, cardiologist, researcher, public health expert, and director and global head of health care and public health partnerships at YouTube and Google Health, referenced the 2025 Edelman Trust Barometer Special Report, which included input from over 16,000 participants across 16 countries. The report highlighted that individuals often view someone as a legitimate health expert not solely on the basis of academic training, but also due to personal experience with health challenges. This underscores a growing concern about trust in healthcare, leading many patients to seek information online. Specifically, among the 73% of Edelman report participants who see a clinician regularly, 53% expressed feeling that their doctor is “slightly or not qualified” to address all aspects of their health, encompassing physical, mental, social, and environmental issues. Consequently, if their physician cannot provide a solution, 65% of these individuals turn to non-institutional sources, such as friends and family, online searches, and social media.

“It’s important to recognize that not all content on social media constitutes misinformation. While headlines frequently suggest an overwhelming deluge of false information, I don’t believe that assessment fully captures the reality. There’s a significant amount of information—often overlooked—that is, in fact, accurate and useful. The potential for encountering misinformation is particularly heightened when considering that a 2025 health information and trust tracking poll, conducted by the nonprofit KFF and including 1,283 US adults, revealed that 55% of adults use social media to access health information and advice, at least occasionally. This proportion is notably higher among young adults and Black and Latinx adults. Edelman’s research further indicates that individuals aged 18 to 34 were twice as likely as those over 55 to accept advice from uncredentialed sources, and at least once, 58% of those aged 18 to 34 reported regretting a health decision based on misinformation. Individuals spend an average of two hours daily on social media, encountering influencers—such as myself—who present a relatable and approachable image,” explains Dr. Zachary Rubin, a practicing pediatric allergist and clinical immunologist who serves as a medical educator on social media and has amassed nearly 4 million followers. “This can lead to the development of a parasocial relationship, where individuals perceive a genuine connection with someone they’ve never met.”

The sheer volume of information—often hours spent engaging with an online influencer—pales in comparison to the typically 15-minute consultations with a personal physician. Individuals are understandably wary of misinformation when seeking answers. It takes minutes to craft false health content, while debunking that same misinformation can take weeks. “Creating effective health content requires significant time, effort, knowledge, and research,” one source explained. “Conversely, health misinformation can be produced in as little as five minutes, and all that’s needed is a smartphone.” Several influencers are reportedly exploiting every function within various apps to promote their narratives and market their products.

The influencers I follow are strategically utilizing every aspect of social media applications to advance their personal narratives and promote their products. They actively employ all available features within these apps to push their brand messaging and drive sales.

“These influencers that I follow are utilizing every aspect of the apps to push their narrative and sell their products,” one user stated. When I clicked on the account @mbti.dose, it became apparent that it was not a genuine individual; numerous videos featured hands holding various products alongside diverse voices urging viewers to purchase them. The TikTok Shop description details “Lemme Burnis,” a supplement formulated to activate metabolism and support healthy body composition, accompanied by a disclaimer emphasizing its best use in conjunction with healthy eating and exercise. The supplement is purportedly designed to “fight belly fat,” presenting itself as a weight management product with documented metabolic effects. In response to inquiries about this claim, a TikTok spokesperson directed attention to the company’s community guidelines and TikTok Shop policies, stating that any prohibited content would be addressed.

The World Health Organization is working to combat health misinformation through its Fides network, offering regular training courses facilitated by tech companies including YouTube, Instagram, TikTok, and LinkedIn. These courses address topics such as safety tools, content creation strategies, trending topics, and handling online harassment. While members can voluntarily identify with the Fides network, there isn’t a publicly available list of members due to data protection concerns. The organization aims to foster a movement comparable to the antivax movement – a small yet powerful, well-coordinated, and substantially funded group. Notably, in 2021, the Center for Countering Digital Hate identified twelve individuals, often referred to as the “disinformation dozen,” who were responsible for up to 65% of anti-vaccine content observed on Facebook and Twitter.

Watching wellness influencers’ videos online can trigger a chain reaction leading to health anxiety, potentially resulting in unnecessary doctor’s appointments, tests, and overdiagnosis. A February 2025 study led by the University of Sydney examined approximately 1,000 Instagram and TikTok posts promoting five popular medical tests: full-body MRIs (including those notably highlighted by Kim Kardashian), the multicancer early detection genetic test, tests for antimullerian hormone for women’s egg counts, the gut microbiome, and testosterone. These posts reached an estimated 200 million followers. Researchers discovered that around 70% of individuals discussing these tests—which lacked established evidence—were actively engaging with the content. Rubin, recognizing the strategy, employs tactics to elevate his content within algorithms. He frequently uses attention-grabbing phrases, such as “holy cow, folks,” strategically timed to trigger a response and increase visibility. He explains, “Those are signals that I know will at least trip the algorithm when I think it’s important.” Rubin acknowledges the parallel to the antivax movement, noting its effectiveness as a small but powerful, well-coordinated, and well-funded movement, and that content evoking an emotional response is more likely to be prioritized by algorithms over scientifically sound information, which may be dismissed as “boring.”

“Because individuals often have a direct financial interest, and we recognize that’s likely a significant underestimation as we were solely seeking explicit cases of such interest—often these are concealed,” explained Brooke Nickel, one of the study’s authors and a National Health and Medical Research Council emerging leader research fellow in the University of Sydney School of Public Health and part of the Sydney Health Literacy Lab. “This inherently creates inequities within the health care system, frequently exploiting the emotion of early detection and early screening in the hope of maximizing an individual’s health.” Nickel continued, noting that a consistent theme emerged across the five tests examined in the study: “the underlying pursuit of living one’s best life.” However, she emphasized, “there’s no evidence to support these tests.”

The influence of figures like wellness and fitness influencers was also a key area of investigation. As noted by Dr. Garth Graham, cardiologist and global head of healthcare and public health at Google Health/YouTube, “a lot of it is these wellness and fitness influencers who are using their body as a business card.” DeMille recounted a personal experience: “I was buying supplements and powders that I didn’t need, and that I didn’t even like … I was restricting my diet in ways that I didn’t need to.” This prompted a critical examination of one influencer’s claims—specifically, assertions about healing precancerous cells through diet and supplements—which were subsequently dismissed by the Australian Cancer Council due to a lack of scientific evidence.

The influencer’s silence following the potentially dangerous claims has become an all-too-common occurrence, according to DeMille. “Can they truly demonstrate concern for the health and wellness of their followers when expert societies are raising serious questions and they remain unresponsive?” DeMille explained. Since she began documenting the activities of wellness influencers, she has gathered numerous accounts of individuals who, influenced by advice promoting natural cancer cures, disregarded their doctors’ recommendations – specifically declining chemotherapy, radiation, or surgery. These stories typically conclude in one of two ways: the influencer’s followers ultimately seek and receive the necessary treatment, or, tragically, the individuals are no longer with us. An August 2025 study, in which Baker participated, revealed that 81% of “cancer cure” videos circulating on TikTok contained false and misleading advice. “The most realistic outcome is that someone simply loses money, time, and energy,” DeMille stated. “However, the genuine harm lies in individuals forming parasocial relationships with these influencers and subsequently forgoing evidence-based treatment or healthcare when they require it.” Public health experts share this concern, noting that individuals may forgo regular annual physicals with primary care doctors, opting instead for wellness trends like parasite cleanses or detox teas.

“Fifty-eight percent of people aged 18 to 34 reported regretting a health decision based on misinformation, often after consulting with a physician and receiving a clinical diagnosis. As Dr. Wellman noted, “There’s a direct connection in some ways to some of the challenges we see now back to snake oil salespeople,” highlighting the enduring human tendency to seek answers, particularly when they promise to improve one’s life. The ease with which misinformation can be created—taking only minutes—pales in comparison to the sustained effort required to debunk it, which can sometimes span weeks. This impulse to take control of one’s own health isn’t new; the medical freedom movement of the 1980s, coinciding with the Reagan era, fostered “healthism,” an individual’s right to make decisions regarding healthcare, rather than deferring to government or medical establishments. This movement heightened the perception that one’s worth is intrinsically linked to one’s health. Dr. Wellman views this as the foundational basis for the modern MAHA movement. The expansion of internet access in the 2000s further amplified this trend, enabling individuals to readily share health and wellness stories – or, conversely, medical misinformation – with just a few clicks. While platforms like TikTok, Meta, and YouTube have implemented policies to address misleading or false content, supported by moderators and over 20 independent, accredited fact-checking organizations, the challenge remains significant.

Meta prohibits the dissemination of inaccurate, misleading, or false content that may cause significant harm to individuals or society. While Meta states it will remove misinformation when it’s likely to directly contribute to the risk of imminent physical harm, in March it launched a new feature called Community Notes—similar to the system used on X (formerly Twitter), which does not currently have a dedicated misinformation policy. Instead of relying on third-party fact-checking organizations, Community Notes allow users to submit notes on Facebook, Instagram, and Threads posts they believe are potentially misleading or confusing. However, for a note to be published on a post, a consensus must be reached: individuals who have previously disagreed on note ratings must agree that the submitted note is worth posting. If no agreement is reached, the note will not be published. “Meta does not decide what gets rated or written—the community does,” explains Southwell. During the pandemic, Southwell was part of a team, alongside the World Health Organization, the National Academy of Medicine, and the Council of Medical Specialty Societies, that developed global principles for identifying credible sources of health information on social media. The objective was to provide tech companies with a framework for elevating evidence-based information over misinformation. Experts also highlight that with the substantial funding and technological capabilities available to them, social media companies can develop tools designed to protect users from misinformation while simultaneously benefiting their businesses. The World Health Organization’s Tech Task Force meets with over 30 companies monthly to present updates and insights.

To combat medical misinformation, it’s crucial to approach wellness content with a critical eye and seek multiple perspectives. Just as a second opinion is valuable for diagnoses, consumers of health information should always consult with others. Individuals should discuss concerns with their doctor, ask friends and family for their insights, and investigate the influencer’s credentials – verifying if they possess any relevant accreditation. Furthermore, consumers should examine whether a video is a paid sponsorship, or if disclosures are present in the influencer’s bio or on their website. Social media platforms play a role, but a significant responsibility rests with individuals as they consume health information. This requires a heightened level of digital literacy, encouraging people to pause and consider the potential impact before sharing content that might evoke a strong emotional reaction. Rubin notes, “Because as you share it, you also get fed more of that content, and that’s what ends up creating these echo chambers and amplifies unproven, potentially dangerous therapies.” Recognizing the underlying reason people turn to social media for health advice – often a lack of access to trusted healthcare providers – is also critical, as this situation is likely to intensify.

In November 2024, the National Center for Health Workforce Analysis projected a critical shortage of primary care physicians, estimating that by 2037, there will be an 87,150 shortfall in full-time equivalent positions. This shortage is anticipated to disproportionately affect non-metro areas. “I’m frequently criticized, even labeled as a ‘shill’,” Steier explained. “This is frustrating because the science-based healthcare space often lacks compensation for time and effort, while wellness influencers—who aren’t subject to the same ethical standards—are able to generate full-time incomes.” Despite current funding limitations, the significance of communication in healthcare is undeniable, whether a physician is engaging in a one-on-one conversation with a patient or disseminating information to a broad audience online. “One of the most effective ways we can assist patients is by actively supporting their journey with health information,” said Graham. “We must acknowledge that patients are undertaking a complex journey when accessing health information online, and we need to consider how we can enhance and improve that experience.” Even individuals without a trusted doctor should be able to access support within their communities. Ultimately, people are seeking a sense of understanding and connection. However, finding genuine, real-world communities has become increasingly challenging, a role that online influencers have largely assumed—though not always for the better.

It’s understandable to feel frustrated when navigating our current healthcare system, particularly when seeking assistance. However, it’s crucial not to allow that frustration to deter us from critical thinking about the information we encounter and pursuing the truth. Anyone seeking help that isn’t immediately accessible can be susceptible to misinformation. Indeed, the act of searching for answers regarding one’s health taps into fundamental human desires – a desire for control, a fear of mortality, and the will to live.