The One-Size-Fits-All Longevity Scam

And Why I Rejected 98% of Wellness Brands and why Equinox Just Got It Right

Mid-2020, somewhere between the (temporary) collapse of gym business and my third Zoom call about “adaptogens,” I had a realization that felt both obvious and clarifying: longevity was about to become the next overhyped wellness gold rush.

I wasn’t wrong.

The longevity market was worth $27 billion in 2023. By 2030, it’ll hit $44 billion. Americans now take an average of four supplements daily, up from basically zero a generation ago. The shift from “fitness enthusiast” to “biohacker” happened so fast that drinking something called Athletic Greens became a personality trait.

But here’s what bothers me after spending years vetting 650+ companies for Equinox partnerships (I approved 10, by the way - that’s a 98.5% rejection rate, if you’re counting): We’ve confused feeling like we’re doing something with actually doing something.

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The “Science” for Marketing Problem

I love science. I also love branding and marketing. The issue is when the three pretend to be the same thing.

Take any emerging wellness brand. Founder calls. Deck looks beautiful. They’ve got “cutting-edge research”. They’ve got influencer testimonials. They’ve got that soft-focus Instagram aesthetic where everyone’s skin glows like they’ve been gently basted in Youth Serum™.

And look - I buy this stuff. I’m a mark. Five founder calls a week, minimum, and I get seduced every time by the promise of optimization, of becoming the platonic ideal of myself if I just add this one thing to my stack.

But then nothing sticks.

The problem isn’t that these products are necessarily bad. It’s that they’re marketed as universal solutions, which is biologically impossible. You are not the person next to you. Your gut microbiome is not their gut microbiome. Your sleep debt, stress levels, genetic predispositions, and whether you had coffee this morning all matter.

Twenty years ago, if you went to the gym every day, people thought you were insane (an analogy I verbatim took from Harvey Spevak). Equinox didn’t just sell fitness, they sold cool.

They made sweating aspirational. That was brilliant because exercise actually works. The science is settled. Moving your body daily has almost no downside.

Here’s the key distinction though: Some things ARE universal. Clean water works for everyone. Non-toxic products touching your skin work for everyone. Removing endocrine disruptors from your environment works for everyone. These aren’t adding things your body may not need, they’re removing harm and supporting systems that already work.

But taking a gummy? That’s different.

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Let’s Talk About Gruns (With Respect)

Full disclosure: I have enormous respect for what Gruns has built. The branding is sharp. The messaging is clean. They borrowed the AG1 playbook - ”one thing for everyone” - and executed it beautifully. Consumers love simplicity. Digital platforms reward simple messages. And honestly, if eating a vitamin gummy instead of a Sour Patch Kid gets someone thinking about their health, that’s not nothing.

But does everyone need a multivitamin gummy?

The honest answer: No.

Some people are genuinely deficient in key nutrients. For them, supplementation makes sense. Others are just... fine? And throwing more vitamins into an already adequate diet doesn’t make you superhuman. It makes your pee expensive.

The bigger issue is this: Can a single gummy actually extend your lifespan?

No serious scientist would say yes. But that’s not how it’s marketed, is it? It’s marketed with implication. With aesthetics. With the promise that if you just take this one small, delicious action every day, you’ll be healthier, sharper, better.

And in some cases? It might actually be detrimental. Excess vitamin A, for instance, can cause toxicity. Too much iron in the wrong person can oxidize and cause damage. Your body isn’t a gas tank you can just top off.

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The Future: Personalized Products, Universal Message

Here’s my bet on where this goes: