The Burden of Wellness Culture

Olivia R. Nelson ’29, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Leverett House.

Whenever I indulge in more sugar than usual or skip my daily 10,000 steps, I strive to avoid feelings of guilt. However, it seems that both the internet and Harvard encourage these sentiments.

Wellness culture has emerged as a significant topic for younger generations. In the U.S., Generation Z and millennials account for 41% of annual wellness spending, despite representing only 36% of the adult population. The current social environment lauds habits aimed at shaping us into the healthiest versions of ourselves — from tracking step counts and sleep cycles to carefully balancing protein intake.

Many healthy habits are indeed beneficial. However, at what point does this relentless focus on health shift from being beneficial to becoming detrimental? The drive to achieve a perfect diet and optimize wellness routines can easily morph from a practice of mindfulness into an obsessive fixation.

College students are particularly vulnerable to this mindset. At certain state universities, fraternities and sororities are transforming traditional parties into “wellness darties,” swapping beer for energy drinks and keg stands for high-intensity interval training. Trends such as looksmaxxing, where individuals strive to enhance their attractiveness, have gained significant traction, feeding into the desire to curate perfect wellness routines through skincare and diet.

Moreover, wellness is becoming an increasingly vital consideration for students when choosing colleges. Many are seeking institutions that prioritize student wellbeing, prompting universities to launch new wellness initiatives. While expanding resources for student wellbeing is positive, it can also contribute to the growing obsession with health.

We find ourselves adhering to rigid rules and nearly impossible standards, making wellness feel more burdensome than self-caring. It’s time we extend some grace towards our health.

In the past year, Harvard University Dining Services has introduced several health-focused offerings in its dining halls, aligning with the rhetoric of contemporary wellness culture. Numerous dining halls now display calorie counts and teaspoons of sugar above drink stations. Additionally, a new “gut health” station featuring pickled vegetables and yogurt options has been added to dinner menus. Dining halls even swapped out standard pasta for a “protein plus” version to increase protein intake by a few grams.

While I don’t see these additions as malicious, as being health conscious isn’t inherently negative, these changes perpetuate the idea that we must optimize every health habit, particularly our diet.

For example, the new protein pasta emphasizes the obsession with protein intake. The label “protein” has become a marketing buzzword, appearing on everything from desserts to coffee and even bizarrely, water. Harvard’s switch from regular pasta (which has about 7 grams of protein) to the “protein plus” version may add a minimal amount of protein but contributes more to the fascination surrounding protein than to actual nutritional benefits.

Admittedly, these changes might encourage some students to choose healthier alternatives. For instance, labeling sugary drinks could steer individuals toward opting for lower-sugar options.

However, considering our culture’s current approach to wellness, these changes can be worrisome. Harvard’s recent alterations may unknowingly amplify our focus on health. Although highlighting sugar content can increase awareness, it can also create moral divisions among beverages, leading us to view some options as “good” and others as “bad,” which fosters feelings of guilt when we choose the latter.

Moreover, these seemingly healthier offerings don’t adequately compensate for the nutritional quality of the meals served by HUDS. Many dishes contain extensive ingredient lists with preservatives, indicating that true improvement in our dining halls requires more than simply aligning with passing food trends.

The goal of achieving a diet void of all flexibility should not be considered the hallmark of health.

I am not advocating for less healthy options at Harvard. It’s crucial to make conscientious choices that benefit our long-term wellbeing. However, if we truly want to optimize our health, we need to shift our focus away from rigid adherence to every health trend.

Skipping your 10,000 steps or not meeting your macros should not dictate your worth or happiness.

Olivia R. Nelson ’29, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Leverett House.