Given this, what I’ve decided to do is the following: throughout the week, I will continue to post on LinkedIn with updates, thoughts, and information. Those will contribute to my Sunday Substack post, where I will add in some additional color and thoughts. There will be deep dives into certain topics I find interesting, but those will not have any preset cadence.

Thanks for being a reader and supporting along the way. Always open to your thoughts and feedback :)

ZT

Thoughts from the Week

Ups & downs & control

There was a moment on Tuesday where I found myself in a bit of an emotional ditch. I had made my first big mistake at a new job on Monday. As a perfectionist, my mind raced to the worst possible outcome. Getting fired, reamed out, losing future potential opportunities, etc. My rational brain knew this was hyperbolic and unrealistic. Everything would be fine. Human’s make mistakes. Nothing bad actually happened, other than a few funny conversations. For some reason, I guess I expected that after getting an MBA I wouldn’t make stupid mistakes anymore.

Tuesday morning, I sat facing the computer, still holding onto the fear, anger, embarrassment, and negativity from the prior day. I realized there were two choices:

1. Continue to beat myself up in the hopes that the flagellation would protect me from others criticism

2. Let go of the reality that something went wrong, and move forward with the lessons learned from it

I’ve been reading Ryan Holiday’s Daily Stoic. The early chapters focus a ton on control, and on realizing what is in/out of my control. That perspective was helpful in saying: “A mistake has been made. People make mistakes. I can’t control how the rest of the team perceives me. I can control owning the issue, acknowledging what happened, outlining what I’ll do to prevent it, and moving forward”.

The meta-lesson: there’s no such thing as perfection. I will continue to make mistakes as I grow in my career. Honestly, the best learnings come from the mistakes.

What Makes a Good Entrepreneur

I was going back through my notes from my last quarter at Stanford, trying to remember what stood out about the best founders I studied and worked alongside. There isn’t one right answer, but certain behaviors kept showing up over and over again.

Great Founders…

Embrace their role as salespeople. Founders are always advocating, whether they realize it or not. If you’re genuinely passionate about the problem you’re solving, people feel it. I learned that firsthand pitching and selling sponsorships for the conference. The moments I cared most were the moments that landed.

Have strong convictions, loosely held. Being decisive matters. But being willing to change your mind when the evidence points somewhere new might matter more. The founders who got stuck were usually the ones who confused conviction with stubbornness.

Zoom in and zoom out. The best founders can chart the long-term course of where the company is headed and, in the same week, get into the weeds of why a specific thing is or isn’t working. That range is rare and necessary.

Are active learners who admit mistakes. Every experience is a chance to learn from, but only if you’re willing to say “I got that wrong.” Staying humble keeps egos out of the room and lets the best ideas win.

Are biased for action. They ship. They decide. They’d rather move forward with 80% confidence than wait for 100% certainty that never comes.

The Cost Impact of Preventative Health

Prevention isn’t only a moral argument. For us to actually drive systemic change, we have to see it as the pricing error it is today.

The US loses roughly $55 billion a year to prevention it simply doesn’t acknowledge. That’s about 30 cents of every healthcare dollar spent. Not on care that failed, but on care that never happened.

And the compounding is brutal. Patients who let risk factors progress into active disease within a single year saw their total annual costs rise 155%, more than triple the increase for those who didn’t progress. That’s not a slow bleed. That’s a repricing event disguised as a diagnosis.

The industry keeps framing prevention as a moral imperative, something we should do because it’s the right thing. And it is the right thing. But that framing has failed for decades, because “should” doesn’t move capital. What moves capital is when someone looks at a $55 billion gap and realizes it’s not a policy problem, it’s an arbitrage.

Somebody is going to price prevention correctly. They’re going to underwrite the risk before it becomes a claim, intercept the progression before it becomes a 155% cost spike, and build a business model where keeping people healthy is the margin, not the mission statement.

When that happens, the returns are going to look absurd in hindsight. Not because the opportunity was hidden, but because everyone was too busy arguing ethics to do the math.

Neko’s Launch in the US

The most clinically validated full-body scan company in Europe is spending its entire US launch strategy on avoiding being called “wellness” or “longevity”.

Neko Health recently launched the waitlist for its upcoming New York City location. 25K people signed up (incredible - kudos to the Neko team).

A key goal of theirs is to distinguish themselves as a preventative medicine company. Not a wellness or longevity company. I think that distinction is interesting.

Opting to engage with academic and clinical spaces, Neko is intentionally focusing on helping customers associate the company with true medicine in a more accessible way.

When discussing consumer health vs. longevity vs. wellness vs. medicine, there’s no right answer. Only a lot of gray space and blurred lines. Where a company chooses to sit will dictate its strategy, branding, TAM, and impact.

Neko seems to have made its decision. Which… 25K people would say is working for them

One of the most common questions I’ve received since the Stanford Medicine Consumer Health Conference is: “How did you actually pull this off?”

This playbook is my attempt to answer that question as honestly and practically as possible. It is not a theoretical framework — it’s the step-by-step process I followed, the mistakes I made, and the lessons I wish I’d had going in. My hope is that whether you’re planning a 50-person dinner or a 400-person conference, there’s something in here that saves you time, money, or a headache.

I’m sharing three resources alongside this write-up:

• 📋 The Playbook — A structured Google Sheet breaking down every phase of conference planning into concrete action steps, sub-steps, and notes/considerations

• 💰 The P&L — A real example of how I tracked costs, revenue, and budget buffers throughout the planning process

• 🗓️ The Run of Show — The actual minute-by-minute schedule we used to coordinate 23 volunteers and 8+ sessions on the day of the event

→ Access all three resources here

How the Playbook is Organized

The playbook is broken into five phases, each reflecting a distinct stage of the planning process. Within each phase, rows are color-coded and categorized into three types:

• Bold rows are the main tasks — the major milestones you need to hit

• Indented rows are the action steps — the concrete things you actually do

• Grey italic rows (prefixed with “Note:”) are considerations, lessons learned, and context — not action items, but things worth knowing before you dive in

Phase 1 — Initial Planning (3–6 months out)

This is where you plant the flag. The most important things to get right early are the vision (theme, pillars, talk tracks), the date and venue, and your first wave of outreach to speakers and sponsors. Getting the date locked in is the unlock for almost everything else — it’s very hard to get speaker commitments without one.

A few things I’d emphasize from this phase: identify your keynote or anchor speaker as early as possible. Their confirmation gives you credibility with every subsequent outreach. And don’t wait to build your “lighthouse” — a website and social presence that gives people a place to land and follow along.

Phase 2 — Leading Up to the Event (2–3 months out)

By this point you should have your speakers confirmed and your talk tracks finalized. This phase is about shifting from planning into execution: building moderator prep documents for every panel, opening ticket sales, and standing up your PR and media strategy.

The interest list you built in Phase 1 pays off here. When we went live with tickets, we emailed 1,300 people from our waitlist and noted there were only 400 seats available. Between that email and the LinkedIn post, we sold out quickly.

Phase 3 — Day of the Event

The most important thing I did for the day itself was appoint a Head of Operations whose sole job was to manage our 23 volunteers. As the MC, I couldn’t be in two places at once — and having someone I trusted to own all logistics freed me up to actually be present. The Run of Show (linked above) was the backbone of this.

Phase 4 — Post Event

Don’t let the momentum die. The week after the event is one of the highest-leverage moments you have. Post your recap early, repost and engage with everyone sharing about the day, and immediately capture interest for next year while people are still energized. A simple Google Form and a WhatsApp community group go a long way.

Phase 5 — Done Throughout the Process

These are the activities that don’t fit neatly into a single phase because they run the entire length of planning: consistent social posting, following up relentlessly with high-priority contacts, maintaining a centralized tracker for all stakeholders, and keeping a close eye on the P&L with at least a 20% budget buffer at all times.

A Note on the P&L and Run of Show

The P&L is a real look at how costs broke down across venue, catering, AV, PR, accommodations, badging, ticketing platform fees, and take rates from Stanford and CME. I’ve included the relative figures (not absolutes) so you can use them as a benchmark when building your own budget. The biggest lesson: be extremely conservative early, because unexpected costs will always show up near the end.

The Run of Show is the minute-by-minute coordination document we shared with all volunteers ahead of the day. It outlines every session, transition, responsibility, and timing cue. If you’re running a multi-session event with speakers, panelists, and a live audience, having something like this is non-negotiable.

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When I started planning this conference, I had no playbook. No team, no budget, no confirmed speakers, and — for a painful stretch — no venue. What I had was conviction that the conference needed to exist and a willingness to figure it out as I went.

What follows is the playbook I wish I’d had. It’s organized as the steps I actually followed, with callouts for the specific moments that taught me the most. If you’re thinking about building an event, a community, or really anything from scratch — I hope there’s something useful here.

Step 1: Define your vision — and find your niche

I started with a broad question: what does the next decade of consumer-empowered care look like? But broad questions don’t sell conferences. The turning point was hearing “we don’t need another conference at Stanford” from faculty members who already ran their own events. That rejection forced me to articulate what was actually different about this one.

The niche turned out to be three things no existing conference combined: the growing consumer wellness industry, an audience that mixed students with industry (founders, VCs, researchers, legal), and a focus on the intersection of business and science — not pure research, not pure venture, but the space in between.

Callout: Your vision will get sharper through rejection. Each “no” is a forcing function. The pillars of this conference — Perform, Connect, Extend — never changed. But the pitch for why it mattered was rewritten after almost every conversation.

Step 2: Secure your venue and date — expect this to take longer than you think

At Stanford, only faculty departments or clubs can reserve campus venues. I missed the GSB’s deadline for school-sponsored events and was told there was no path through a club. That left the faculty sponsor route — which took 50 emails, 13 conversations, and a month of hearing “yes to everything, then no.”

I secured the date of February 21st, 2026 in July of 2025, which gave me lead time. One tactical note: be aware of other conferences. The Connected Fitness conference took place in LA the same week, giving speakers already flying to California another reason to say yes. There were pros and cons to launching this at an academic institution, and one of them was that the venue could easily be set up to accommodate the conference. In a separate situation, more time may be required to build stages, set up AV, bring in seating/networking spots, etc. Book the venue as far out as possible.

Callout: If the venue requires institutional approval, build in extra time. Things that would take two days in a startup took four weeks at Stanford. Understanding that from the outset is critical to your sanity and your timeline. Plan that things will take 3 times as long and cost twice as much as you expect.

Step 3: Build your target lists — speakers and sponsors in parallel

I worked on speakers and sponsors at the same time, because each reinforced the other. Confirmed speakers gave sponsors confidence. Confirmed sponsors were required to move forward with the event.

For speakers, I outlined the companies and individuals who would be incredible to have, identified specific leaders at each company, and secured emails via Apollo.io, LinkedIn Navigator, and warm introductions.

For sponsors, I looked at who was sponsoring similar events and conferences, built a sponsorship deck with tiered packages, and categorized potential sponsors into buckets: service providers (law firms, advisory firms, wealth management), CPG/product companies, investors, participating companies (speakers with marketing budgets), and media partners.

Callout: Finding your first keystone speaker is the unlock. For me, it was my keynote (Daniel Kraft) and my first major CEO (Bryan Myers). Once they signed on, every subsequent outreach became dramatically easier because I could reference who was already committed. The momentum snowballs.

Step 4: Outreach — it’s a volume game with a personal touch

Cold emails were customized for each person — their role, their company, their interests, and the specific value of attending Stanford and participating. I never sent a generic template. With AI tools today, customizing the outreach is a must and a lighter lift.

Warm introductions came from two channels that mattered enormously. First, my classmates at Stanford who had investments in or personal relationships with the companies I was targeting. That’s how I got connected with people at WHOOP, Oura, and others. Second, people found me through LinkedIn because I’d been posting consistently about consumer health for months. They reached out, offering to connect me with the right person or support the event. That was a revelation about building in public: it creates inbound warm intros you could never have planned for.

Everything was tracked in Notion. I targeted tier-one people first, then fast-followed with additional folks if I couldn’t secure a speaker. I prioritized company representation over the individual’s position and was lucky to secure C-suite representation from most companies.

Callout: 180 outreach attempts produced 10 sponsors. 200+ emails produced 30 speakers. One sponsor came from a classmate. Two sponsors were also speakers who believed in the vision. Following up relentlessly matters — I reached out to Andrew Huberman’s team 17 times. Most busy people won’t respond to the first email. Each follow-up should make the ask feel more worth their time, not less.

Step 5: Build a lighthouse — your website, brand, and landing page

As I started getting traction with speakers and formalized the pillars, I built a central hub that everything pointed back to. I used Lovable to vibe-code a website and kept updating it throughout the process.

Having Stanford Medicine associated with the conference was both an advantage and a constraint. Pro: It’s an incredibly well-known brand, and having it attached drummed up interest. Con: I could not use trademarked logos or words, and had to be extremely careful with how I communicated Stanford’s involvement.

Callout: If you have access to a powerful brand — a university, a company, an institution — use it as much as possible to get buy-in. But understand the rules before you start, not after. I learned about trademark restrictions the hard way and had a genuine legal scare that kept me up at night.

Step 6: Generate interest before you can sell tickets

We couldn’t start selling tickets until January 2026, but I knew that if I waited until then to build an interest list, I’d be too late. I used a simple Google Form to capture interest starting months before tickets went live.

I also made sure to note cheerleaders and well-connected people I met along the way, marking them as priority invitees and sending them the ticket link ahead of public release. This served two purposes: it curated the right audience, and it created champions who helped broadcast the event as we got closer.

The posting strategy was deliberate. I committed to posting on LinkedIn at least four times a week — not just about the conference, but about wellness content in general. A podcast, my own industry analysis, a market map, and planning updates. The goal was to establish myself first as someone genuinely interested in the space, then as an entrepreneur launching a conference. When I started in May, my LinkedIn impressions were around 10K. By the time the conference happened, I’d crossed 1 million.

Callout: The viral post that drove 600+ sign-ups in 48 hours was the culmination of months of groundwork, not a one-day trick. It worked because the concentration of tier-one speakers was so high that people saw the lineup and felt they had to be part of it. But without five months of consistent posting and community building, I don’t believe it would have spread the way it did.

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Step 7: Sell tickets and manage registrations

We used CVENT for event management (as required by Stanford). There are other ticketing and event platforms that I don’t have a formed opinion on. Use one that you like/are familiar with. The key decisions were registration types and pricing tiers — I allocated tickets across VIPs, speakers, media, founders, students, and the general public.

My perspective was that ticket prices could be increased but not lowered once set. This turned out to be the right instinct. We sold out of all 400 tickets within the first week, driven by the email list from the interest form (1,300+ people notified that only 400 tickets were available) and LinkedIn awareness.

Callout: The interest form effort earlier in the process is what made ticket sales possible. I leveraged those 1,300 emails to create urgency around a limited number of tickets. That, combined with organic social awareness, is what drove us to sell out twice.

Step 8: Prepare the content — moderator docs and prep calls

I created individual moderator documents for each panel: roughly three topics, with three to four questions each, along with the focus and goals of each topic. I got all panelists onto a prep call ahead of the event, which gave them a chance to build rapport and gave me a chance to vet the topics. The specific questions and topics on the moderator panel docs were not what mattered. Familiarizing the panelists with one another, building rapport, and discussing what they found exciting or interesting were important parts.

After each prep session, I cleaned the moderator documents and updated them with the revised topics. The moderators were entrusted with conducting a final run-through and adding any additional changes they personally found relevant.

Callout: Prep calls were where some of the best ideas surfaced. They also prevented surprises on stage and proactively built rapport. I highly recommend them for any event with panels.

Step 9: Coordinate the day-of operations

We had roughly 23 volunteers split across roles: check-in, ushers, overflow room management, timekeepers, speaker management, and floaters. The volunteer team met weekly in the four weeks leading up to the event.

Three things were essential: a detailed run-of-show document, clear delineation of responsibilities, and flexibility. I put one volunteer in charge of managing all the others so that I could focus on MC duties without getting pulled into operational fires.

Callout: Small details shift motivation. One volunteer updated our volunteer t-shirt design, and it drove a surprising amount of pride and buy-in from the rest of the team. Don’t underestimate the power of making people feel like they belong to something bigger.

Step 10: Capitalize on the momentum after

For the seven days post-event, I reposted, shared, and commented on as many conference-related posts as I could. I posted my own recap on the following Monday morning. I created a new Google Form to capture interest for next year’s event, because I knew the momentum wouldn’t stay top of mind for long. I set up WhatsApp groups (recommended by an attendee) to keep the community alive. And I emailed every sponsor and speaker to thank them.

Callout: The post-event window is short. If you don’t capture the energy within the first week, it fades. Have your follow-up plan ready before the conference happens, not after.

Managing costs throughout

Putting on a 400-person conference is not cheap. Throughout planning, unexpected costs kept coming up: lunch tables, livestreaming, extra linens, weekend fees. I maintained a P&L and kept a minimum 20% buffer at all times. When unknown costs arose, I added a 20-30% contingency to expected expenses and worked to raise that amount through sponsorships + ticket sales. Being overly conservative on known costs provided a buffer for the surprises that inevitably came near the end.

Top-line revenue came from both sponsorships and ticket sales (was a six-figure event). All funds went toward event expenses, and any remaining balance is going toward next year’s event.

The lessons that stayed with me

On vision and momentum: Pick a clear mission, then talk about it loudly. The more I clarified the “why” and shared it consistently, the more the right people self-selected into the conference. Just start — small early moves create compounding returns over time, even when it’s not obvious where they’ll lead.

On breaking bottlenecks: When each dependency blocks the next — event needs a date, date needs funding, funding comes from sponsors, sponsors need to see speakers — push on all fronts in parallel. Leverage your differentiating advantage. Stanford was real leverage, and using it intentionally unlocked credibility and access. And one keystone “yes” changes everything: the first high-signal supporter creates a cascade of trust.

On outreach and relationships: Make the value obvious in the first message, then follow up. It is a numbers game — sometimes the only strategy is volume and consistency. Warm introductions are disproportionately powerful: a single warm intro can shortcut weeks of cold outreach. Find champions and design for their incentives. Know each stakeholder’s “why” — speakers, sponsors, faculty, volunteers, and attendees all value different things, and the work is translating the same vision into their language.

On team and experience: Empower a strong support team with real ownership. Small details — a t-shirt, a gift bag, an invitation to a planning meeting — can shift people’s sense of belonging and motivation in outsized ways. Below is an example, where a volunteer made a much better t-shirt (bottom) that drove such belonging and excitement amongst the team. My first pass at a t-shirt is on the top.

On risk: Choose optimism, and pair it with a plan. Confidence without structure is fragile. Go slow on legal and reputational risk — when something high-stakes comes up, the right move is to pause, get counsel, think through all angles, and then react.

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” — Viktor E. Frankl

The Resources & Tools

• Vision & Mission statement: This was a living and breathing document that I constantly updated from conversations with speakers, sponsors, mentors, and volunteers throughout the journey.

• Rolodex of potential speakers

• Rolodex of potential sponsors

• Run of Show: An outline of the day, broken into 5 minute segments, noting where volunteers should be, what actions should be taking place, etc.

• Flow of Venue:

  

• Speaker Tracker

The tools

Below are the tools, applications, and services that I consistently used throughout the event planning.

• Notion: My central hub for everything. From managing the rolodexes of speakers/sponsors to my general task management platform. I also operated my social media hub from Notion to track posting on socials

• Superhuman: Email platform with user-friendly UI that helped me stay on top of emails through reminders and snippets.

• Granola.AI: Call transcriber that helped me follow up with emails post-calls, track action items, and remind me of context across conversations

• Apollo.io: Lead optimizer that helped me collect emails for a majority of speakers and sponsors

• LinkedIn: Main social media platform that I posted and built community on. Also leveraged LinkedIn Sales Navigator for messaging and outreach, but was not as successful through this channel

• AI (ChatGPT / Claude / Stanley): AI tools for content generation, drafting, research, summarizing, etc.

• Google Suite (Sheets, Docs, Slides, Forms): Managing P&L, moderator sheets, Media tracking, volunteer organization, keynote presentation, creating/tracking interest forms, etc.

• Lovable (initial website for interest): My first website was built on Lovable to serve as a central site outlining the vision, mission, and confirmed speakers. This was replaced with an official site through CVENT later on in the process.

• CVENT (managing ticket sales & event website): Stanford’s approved vendor for event management through which we handled registration, tickets, event website/app, check-in process via Event-in-a-box, agenda and all backend logistics of the event.

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What’s next for the conference

For the conference at Stanford, the Health and Well-being club at the Graduate School of Business will host it. Stanford has a formal process for student-led events, and the club will apply through this process for 2027. Given the reaction and demand from this year, I’m confident we’ll make it happen.

Beyond Stanford, the vision is still taking shape. It could expand to other universities or be held at a single flagship location. It could grow into a broader platform — events, content, community.

What’s next for me

My goal is to be at the forefront of this industry. That means supporting the thought leaders, entrepreneurs, and executives who are pushing this space forward — helping them build and scale businesses that matter. It means working to drive this industry from early adopters across the chasm to the early majority, and from there to real, population-level health improvement. That could take the form of event planning, community building, capital investment, or building my own company. The specific vehicle matters less than the mission: building great teams and businesses that create joy, purpose, and health in people’s lives.

A final thought

If you’ve stayed with this series for four weeks, thank you. Here’s what I want to leave you with.

After finishing this series, I hope you’ll consider joining this space. Not just as a founder or investor — although we need more of those. We need people working on the policy, science, research, and regulation sides. Because the work that’s being done cannot stay in Silicon Valley echo chambers or coastal conversations. It needs to reach the rest of the United States and improve health for all of us worldwide.

We are still at the precipice of this industry. We have not yet changed the way we take care of ourselves. And when I say “take care of ourselves,” I don’t mean just physical health. I mean holistic health — physical, mental, social, spiritual. When we take care of ourselves holistically, we find our purpose. We live a more loving, joyful life.

That is the goal of this entire effort. Not a conference. Not a market category. The goal is to help push people toward their most joyful life. And that starts with their health.

If you’re interested in attending, sponsoring, speaking, or getting involved in next year’s conference, sign up here: https://forms.gle/tBqzqdGgdrW9qEtj9

You can find me on LinkedIn or subscribe to this Substack for more on consumer health, entrepreneurship, and building things from scratch.

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The conference was built around a single question: what does the next decade of consumer-empowered care look like? Over eight hours of panels, keynotes, and hallway conversations, a more specific version of that question kept surfacing: the innovation, investment, and awareness are increasingly there — so what’s actually still missing?

A second question came up for me, and I shared it in my keynote: what needs to be true to close the gap and cross the chasm so that all this investment in consumer-empowered care moves the needle on population-wide, systemic health issues?

What follows is my attempt to capture the most substantive ideas from the day, organized by themes that cut across sessions rather than panel by panel. I’ve included direct quotes from speakers and attendees where I can, and I’ve tried to be honest about where I think the industry is strong, where it’s still falling short, and what questions remain open.

The shift is real — and it’s structural, not just rhetorical

Dr. Daniel Kraft opened the day with a keynote on Medicine 3.0 that set the tone: digital twins, advanced wearables, AI diagnostics, virtual and augmented reality, gene editing. The vision was expansive — and intentionally so. His energy was infectious, and more than one attendee told me afterward that it “set the tone for the rest of the day with a lot of curiosity and engagement.”

The macro thesis he laid out was echoed in nearly every session that followed: healthcare is moving from episodic, hospital-centered treatment to continuous, consumer-controlled, data-driven prevention. As one attendee summarized it: “reactive to preventive, episodic to continuous, institutional to consumer-controlled, analog to data-driven.”

But the more interesting conversation was about what sits between that vision and reality. As a panelist quoted during the day: “97% of the $5.3T U.S. healthcare spend goes toward chasing disease, and only 3% goes to prevention.” We have built an almost perfectly reactive system. Rebuilding it will require more than good technology. It will require proving the economics, changing behavior at scale, and navigating regulatory frameworks that were not designed for this moment.

Several speakers noted that many consumer health companies don’t fit neatly into a single regulatory category — not purely a medical device, not purely a wellness tool, not a traditional provider. Thoughtfully navigating that gray zone is critical to durability.

Trust as strategy, not sentiment

If I had to name one word that defined the day, it would be trust. Not as a branding exercise — as an operational strategy.

Dr. Ricky Bloomfield, CMO of Oura, was direct: “Behavior change is real. The information equips you to make a choice. We don’t want you to be in a clinic; we want you to be at home enjoying your lives.” But he paired that with a harder point: if consumer health platforms want to be taken seriously, they must measure clinical outcomes and healthcare cost reduction — not just engagement metrics. Bridging credibility with clinicians is essential if consumer-generated data is to inform care.

Christopher Gardner, Stanford professor of medicine, framed it most starkly: “The tech is ahead of the science, and the science is trying to catch up. If we don’t have the science to back up the products, they will never be complete, and people will be distrustful.”

The longevity panel made this tangible. Chris Mirabile, CEO of NOVOS, shared research showing that combining certain longevity supplements often produces negative interactions: “What’s the point of taking a longevity supplement if you’re wasting time? That’s the antithesis of longevity.” One of the soundbites I took away was: “Sometimes, 1+1 = 0.” NAD, trending supplement protocols, and heavily marketed biohacking products are running ahead of peer-reviewed validation. That gap is a real risk. Consumer trust, once broken, is hard to rebuild.

The companies that are investing in science now — Oura, WHOOP, Noom, Eight Sleep, January AI — are building a moat that marketing cannot replicate. Geoff Cook shared that Noom will invest $10 million in research in 2026 alone. “Clinical-grade evidence is becoming table stakes. Science is a moat.”

An open question I keep returning to: what is the actual difference between science/medicine and wellness? Where are the barriers between the two? How will these industries work together? And how do we keep moving toward the truth? In an era of AI, misinformation, and distrust, how do we properly inform individuals about the best ways to manage their long-term, proactive health?

Data is abundant. Meaning is scarce. The “Health OS” is coming — slowly.

“Data is the marketing for medicine,” said Geoff Cook. With more than 50% of Americans now using wearables and at-home diagnostics surging, data alone is no longer the differentiator. “Data is everywhere, but meaning is missing. It is becoming abundantly clear that the winners in this industry are those who either integrate seamlessly into customers’ existing lives or find a way to change consumer behavior with generated data.

Alex Vannoni from WHOOP described what translation looks like in practice: trust means seeing results and outcomes, which leads to sustained engagement. Creating those “magical moments” through high-fidelity health data and relevant insights builds confidence. A clear example of this is customers’ relationship with alcohol, Whoop/Oura, and sleep. The feedback loop of having a drink and seeing sleep score plummet is immediately apparent. Consumer health products can be a “check engine light” for health — alerts that draw attention but stay invisible otherwise.

Matteo Franceschetti of Eight Sleep painted the near-future: users don’t want to learn multiple apps. People want to understand what matters to them, which means creating more data that their personal health agent can rely on. His vision of a home-based health agent that doesn’t just monitor but acts on your behalf was one of the most discussed ideas of the day. As one attendee wrote: “I thought the idea of personalized consumer dashboards built with custom AI agents that bring together data from a variety of different data sources was super interesting.”

Ricky Bloomfield described how Oura is approaching this from an open infrastructure perspective: the personal health OS will be truly personal, built by members who are already creating their own experiences via the API. The discussion around a personal Health OS is not new, with countless startups racing to be your one-stop shop for all your health information and guidance.

But the investor panel applied healthy skepticism. Holly Maloney, Alison Ryu, Julie Yoo, and Kurt Seidensticker reinforced that blending data across wearables, sleep devices, CGMs, EHRs, and nutrition logs is far more complex than marketing suggests. Fragmentation is not disappearing. The opportunity may not be the aggregator, but the infrastructure layer that makes aggregation usable.

Alison Ryu framed the AI opportunity with precision: “The real AI opportunity isn’t the AI doctor. It’s the orchestration layer — AI that knows your context, maintains continuity, and routes you to the right intervention at the right moment, bringing a high-quality human into the loop when the stakes demand it.” She added, “I don’t think one super app wins. I’m more bullish on condition-anchored platforms that earn deep trust in a high-acuity domain first, then expand from a position of demonstrated clinical credibility.”

Holly Maloney added that fragmentation isn’t a problem to be solved — it’s infrastructure to be built.

GLP-1s: a window, not a solution

Geoff Cook’s framing of GLP-1s was one of the most-discussed ideas of the entire conference. “People are using GLP-1s as a window for change.”

The data behind it: 11 out of 12 people separate from GLP-1 medications by year 3. Without lifestyle change, the weight comes back. GLP-1s can never be the whole solution. But for Noom, GLP-1 therapy is a catalyst — temporarily altering appetite and food noise, opening a window to build durable skills and routines. A full third of people signing up for Noom plans were previously on a GLP-1. People want whole-person health. They want to combine habit science with change catalysts to make lasting change feel easier.

Geoff’s deeper point was that what actually drives lasting change is mastery experiences. GLP-1s boost perceived control, self-efficacy, and ability. What else does that? Shifts in routines, self-efficacy, and ultimately identity — changes that can survive medication discontinuation. People want lasting change, not just a prescription.

Cheryl Hoy captured it well in her recap: “Medication can accelerate progress, but lasting health still requires lifestyle change. There is no such thing as a ‘free lunch,’ even if you don’t eat any.”

The strongest interventions meet people in moments of transition — perimenopause, postpartum, metabolic inflection points, injury or diagnosis, major life stressors. Start with high motivation and true personalization, then design for sustainable habits. Evidence builds trust. Trust drives integration across providers, payers, and employers. Integration enables sustainability.

Community as a health intervention

Perhaps no theme surprised me more than the role of community. In a conference heavy on data, AI, and clinical infrastructure, the most emotionally resonant sessions were about belonging.

Dr. Jonathan Leary, CEO of Remedy Place, described the paradox: “The healthier I got my patients, the more isolating their lifestyle became. That’s where the birth of social self-care was.” Health can feel like a sacrifice for our social life, which is exactly why Remedy Place was built: to create social connections over shared experiences of doing things that are good for your body.

Bryan Myers reflected on the power of pushing your body to its limits and how that builds deep bonds with others — the importance of shared discomfort. Douglas Gremmen shared how HYROX creates an environment that feels personal even as it grows globally — building intimacy at scale as a growth tactic. Leaders from HYROX, [solidcore], Eudemonia, and Remedy Place agreed: the future of fitness and wellness broadly is social, communal, and built around belonging.

This wasn’t soft science. Multiple attendees flagged community as the thing that drives retention more than any product feature. The companies that have made healthy behavior a social behavior are the ones people don’t leave. Plus, what is the point of getting healthier if not to enjoy life with others?

The investor lens: LTV, not just growth

The investor panel with Julie Yoo (a16z), Holly Maloney (General Catalyst), Alison Ryu (Able Partners), and Kurt Seidensticker (Starshot Ventures) was one of the highest-rated sessions of the day.

Alison Ryu’s framework was specific: “DTC first is a viable strategy with the right unit economics. Stay there longer than you think you need to. Enterprise can be a graveyard: long sales cycles, pilots that never convert, roadmaps distorted toward the buyer rather than the user. Founders who enter an employer or payer conversation with 50K paying subscribers and two years of retention data are in a fundamentally different position than those who arrive with a deck and a pilot offer.”

On retention: “The best consumer health companies are sticky because leaving costs the user something real: a result they’ve achieved, an insight they rely on, a relationship they value, or an identity they’ve built.” Treat your early members like VIPs — they are your best source of product feedback and organic word-of-mouth. Find the 1000 people that absolutely LOVE your product.

On the economics of prevention: “The ROI case for prevention is finally real, and AI is what changed it. For the first time, you can build a counterfactual at the individual level and put a dollar value on it. Together with longitudinal behavioral data, they unlock a genuine economic case for prevention that a self-insured employer or payer will actually act on.”

Warren Shaeffer called it the “Tesla Roadster” phase of consumer health: the tech is powerful and exciting, but broad access isn’t here yet. Costs will come down. And as Julie Yoo pointed out, consumer health itself was considered a niche or “non-serious” category not long ago. Today, some of the most durable, venture-scale companies are being built precisely in areas that were once taboo — gut health, hormones, sleep optimization.

AI and mental health: urgency meets evidence

Headspace Chief Product Officer Fay Kallel articulated the tension the entire industry is navigating: “People have already turned to these technologies for mental health support. It’s not responsible for us to wait until we have fully built evidence systems — we need to provide support now, with rigorous guardrails in place.”

This was one of the more nuanced panels of the day. The mental health space is moving fast, with AI-powered tools reaching people who might never see a therapist. But the evidence base is still being built, and the stakes of getting it wrong are high. The consensus was not that we should slow down — it was that speed and rigor need to coexist.

Open questions

Not all questions were answered during the conference. A few critical questions still loom large in my mind, and hopefully are being discussed at a deeper level as a result of this event. Those include:

Business Implications

• What are the actual sustainable business strategies? How are these companies driving true behavior change, retention, and user engagement?

• Is the only way to exist in ten years through integration with the existing healthcare infrastructure, where insurance or the government pays for the technology or service (e.g., Oura, WHOOP)?

Driving true systemic and population impact

• My keynote question still rings top of mind, and is something I want to carry into all my research and conversations going forward: how do we actually make an impact? How do we serve the people who actually need these technologies, services, and tools, but who can’t afford them?

• What do companies need from scientists, regulators, and policymakers to reset the system?

Delineating wellness vs. medicine

• What is the actual difference between science/medicine and wellness? Where are the barriers, how will the industries work together, and how will we keep moving toward truth?

• What is the right way of empowering consumers with information and tools? In an era of AI, misinformation, disinformation, and distrust, how can we properly inform individuals about the best ways to manage their long-term, proactive, holistic health?

These questions weren’t answered during the conference. But the fact that they were raised — by founders and investors, not just academics — felt significant. The industry knows these gaps exist. Whether they close will define whether consumer health becomes a movement or stays a market segment.

Next week: Part 3 — The Playbook. A step-by-step guide to building a conference from zero.

Interested in attending or getting involved in next year’s conference? Sign up here: https://forms.gle/tBqzqdGgdrW9qEtj9

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Why this started

The consumer wellness industry has long fascinated me. In my Stanford application, I wrote about a desire to help people improve holistic health: physical, mental, social, and spiritual well-being. I was lucky to grow up in a home where nutrition, physical fitness, and mental health were priorities. My mom cooked healthy meals for my brothers and me every night. I worked out with my dad each morning. I attended seminars on intention setting, gratitude, forgiveness, and emotional regulation.

Professionally, something clicked as I thought about my career after Stanford: for the first time, a growing number of people were spending hundreds — if not thousands — of dollars each year on their personal well-being. Consumers were demanding more transparency and control over their health (a trend that accelerated post-COVID). They were becoming more informed and more engaged. I wanted to learn where this industry was headed. Who was winning? What did it take to build a scalable business? How did investors evaluate startups? And who was actually moving the needle on behavior change and lifestyle improvement?

For some reason, I had an extreme conviction that this was what I wanted to be involved in for the next 50 years. I thought, “If I can spend my life learning how to live a healthier life and helping others do the same, I’d be content with how I spent my time.”

The summer that started everything

Stanford’s two-year MBA program allows students to take an internship between their first and second year. After being rejected by Stanford’s sponsored entrepreneurship programs, I had two choices: join someone else’s early-stage company or trust in myself and spend the summer figuring it out. I went with the latter.

I spent the summer creating a comprehensive market map of the consumer health industry, podcasting and interviewing people in the space, and posting my thoughts on LinkedIn. My overarching goal was to establish a brand at Stanford as someone passionate about the industry’s future.

The idea for a conference around Consumer Health came about around May of 2025. The reasons were straightforward: I wanted to meet amazing executives in the space, and a conference would open doors to get in front of them. Everyone told me to leverage the Stanford brand while I was still a student. I loved community and bringing people together. And a conference was a binary data point that I actually did something with my time. Lastly, it sounded fun to start something new — and it was clear to me that this conference addressed a real market gap.

Finding the niche: “We don’t need another conference.”

There were two ways to host a conference at Stanford: through a club or through a faculty sponsor. Only faculty departments or clubs may reserve campus venues. I missed the deadline for the Graduate School of Business’s Major & Prime events — the school-sponsored series that gives clubs access to campus space. Even with every suggestion I had, I was met with resistance and a hard no. There was no way the GSB could support me. No club path, no school support. I would have to raise all the funds myself.

That left option two: find a faculty sponsor. It took a month, 50 emails, and 13 conversations. The first twelve said no.

One rejection stands out. I’d been going back and forth for several weeks with a pair of faculty members who had already organized their own conference at Stanford focused on the science behind longevity. I thought they’d be the perfect people to understand why this industry mattered — not only for the research, but because they’d done this themselves. Their feedback was direct: “We don’t need another conference at Stanford.”

That response was frustrating, but it was also the most important thing anyone said during the entire planning process. It forced me to find the niche that made this conference necessary. Understanding that we couldn’t just host another event that wasn’t unique in its own right, I identified a clear niche: a conference that brought together students, founders, investors, and scientists — and focused specifically on the intersection of business and science in consumer health. Not pure research. Not pure venture. The space in between. The unique melding pot of attendees that would actually create momentum.

But before that clarity came, there were a lot of no’s. Some faculty told me they didn’t have time. Others said they couldn’t risk it. After being told no again and again, I started to doubt that anyone at an organization like Stanford would ever want to support this. Even though I had complete clarity about why this was important and where it would go, no one else could see the vision or trust in me to make it a reality.

I almost didn’t take the thirteenth call.

The call that changed everything

The thirteenth conversation was with Kevin Schulman, director of the Clinical Excellence Research Center (CERC) at Stanford Medicine. Kevin took a chance on my ambition and offered his department as the holding tank for the funds. With that, we had a venue, a date, and a deadline. I had until October 10th to raise at least $30K from sponsors. It was August 4th. Two months to raise the money for an inaugural event with no confirmed speakers.

This process of rejection from faculty sponsors was also a process of refinement. In each conversation, I had to clarify the conference’s purpose and vision. It was my job to articulate what made this conference unique and why it was necessary to host it at Stanford. By the time I got to Kevin, I had been sharpened by twelve no’s.

Defining the day

With a venue and a date, I needed to figure out what the day would actually look like. The conference was built around a single question: what does the next decade of consumer-empowered care look like, and who are the companies defining it?

The challenge with wellness is its breadth. Physical health, mental health, nutrition, sleep, recovery, supplementation, diagnostics, care provision, longevity — the list goes on. See a comprehensive breakdown in my market map.

Covering all of it would require a multi-day event with 100+ speakers. That wasn’t what we were building. Instead, three overarching pillars came to mind:

Perform: What are the companies and technologies that allow us to feel optimal in our physical bodies? This covered nutrition, wearables, and recovery.

Connect: How are people forming deep relationships with themselves and with others? Something that over-optimizers of wellness miss is the importance of social connection to overall health. Why live a healthy life physically if we cannot enjoy it with others?

Extend: What does the future of health look like, and how does science integrate with business? There is a proliferation of longevity clinics, preventive care models, health care delivered beyond the hospital, and a new class of non-FDA-approved but RCT-backed products.

These pillars don’t represent a comprehensive overview of the consumer wellness industry. But they represent core drivers of change in today’s society — technologies, communities, research, and businesses that have fundamentally altered how individuals interact with their health, the healthcare system, and one another.

After the pillars were defined, I brainstormed talk tracks within each, outlined the companies I’d want to invite, and started mass outreach. As interest grew, some talk tracks stayed true to their initial design while others blended based on confirmed speakers. The pillars and the core question never changed, but the specific panels adapted to create a cohesive narrative throughout the day.

Getting people in the room

Hosting a conference is a crash course in stakeholder management. There were six main groups to coordinate: faculty, sponsors, speakers, volunteers, media/PR, and attendees. Each group played a critical role, and one of the most important learnings was to identify what each stakeholder valued and market the conference accordingly.

Faculty valued putting together something that would uplift Stanford’s brand. Everything had to be communicated and aligned with that. Sponsors valued access to potential clients, brand awareness, and alignment with the mission. Speakers cared about having a platform to share their work, access to students and potential hires, and relationships with other leaders in the room. One speaker even said yes because their daughter wanted to tour Stanford’s campus, and the timing matched up. You never know.

Securing speakers was one of the most fun parts of the process because it was a chance to talk to the executives who were actually building the businesses. In pitching the conference, I over-indexed on its potential impact, emphasizing that the event was meant to inspire more people to invest their time and money in this industry. Each speaker could get behind that message.

The speaker lineup still blows my mind. We had 30+ CEOs, VPs, investors, and entrepreneurs on stage at Li Ka Shing at Stanford Medicine. They represented companies with a combined valuation of $20B+, hundreds of employees, and thousands (if not millions) of lives impacted globally. The range spanned pre-seed startups through multi-billion-dollar late-stage companies. The list included WHOOP, Oura, Hyrox, Headspace, Noom, [solidcore], Function Health, Midi Health, Eight Sleep, Eudemonia, and many more.

Volunteers — about 20 students — managed everything from check-in to crowd management to clean-up. Their value lay in closer access to speakers, internal motivation to support the industry, and front-row seats to the planning process. Partnering with a PR team brought credibility and professionalism, helping attract the right media outlets and organize interviews.

The sponsorship grind

Once the venue and date were secured, the next step was funding an inaugural conference. This was much harder than I expected. I reached out to 180+ individuals and ultimately secured 10 sponsors.

My cold emails were customized for each person — their role, their company, their specific interests, and the value of being at Stanford and participating. The warm introductions came from two powerful channels. First, my classmates at Stanford were willing to connect me with the right people. That’s how I got in front of companies like WHOOP and Oura — through classmates who were investing in those companies or had personal relationships with people there. Second, because I had been posting consistently on LinkedIn for months, people reached out to me about ways they could support and connect me with the right person. That was a revelation about the power of building in public: it creates inbound warm intros you could never have planned for.

The hardest sponsorship to close was a law firm. It took weeks and weeks of conversation. They needed to understand the value of partnering with an inaugural conference, and they expressed concern about the risk for a first-time event. I had initially been speaking to five different law firms and was confident I could land at least two, but watched them drop off one by one. I realized they were critical to secure because they had the budget to actually invest.

What got it over the line was getting on the phone and selling the vision — the journey, what this could become — as much as the transactional value. I promised I would connect them with the right people, which would make their investment valuable. Relationship and conviction, not just a sponsorship deck.

One of the ten sponsors came from a classmate at Stanford, highlighting the power of leveraging your network. Two of the ten were also speakers — not because it was pay-to-play, but because they believed in the vision. One was our PR partner. That means it took 180 outreach attempts to get six people who had no prior connection to me to say yes. Across all these conversations, the sponsor value proposition came down to three things:

1. Access to new potential clients and customers

2. Brand awareness and marketing

3. Alignment with the conference mission

Thank you again to our sponsors for making this event possible.

The post that changed everything

Early in the process, I realized that a consistent social media presence would be essential to building awareness. If I waited until tickets were ready to sell, it would be too late to build interest. So, at the beginning of the summer (May), I committed to posting on LinkedIn at least four times a week — not just about the conference, but about wellness content in general: a podcast I started, my thoughts on the industry, a market map I built, and updates on the conference planning process.

The strategy was deliberate: first, establish myself as someone genuinely interested in the industry; then, as an entrepreneur launching a conference. I also believed that in a world where AI-generated content is everywhere, trust comes from showing up over time.

When I started in May, my total LinkedIn impressions were around 10K. By the time I’m writing this, I’ve crossed 1 million impressions in under a year.

About four months before the conference, I posted the speaker lineup we had confirmed so far, with a call to action to sign up for an interest form. There was intentionality in the timing and the content — I had been building toward this moment. But the scale of the response was not something I anticipated.

The post was the culmination of months of work: the speakers, the companies, the vision all crystallized into one announcement. The reason it took off was the concentration of quality. These were tier-one companies in the consumer health space, and seeing them all in one place signaled something real. Within 48 hours, it hit 60K impressions and drove over 600 sign-ups on the interest form. Two months later, a follow-up post with the final lineup reached over 130K impressions and drove another 700 sign-ups.

Watching the sign-ups roll in was such a validation. It felt like product-market fit — people were pulling the thread, saying, “This is important, and we need to be part of it.” It gave me the confidence that we would sell out and make this a success.

The trademark scare

10 days before the conference, I ran into a legal issue with a trademark around “Consumer Health Summit.” That was truly scary. I was concerned that I had completely messed up and risked ruining Stanford’s image. I remember the sinking feeling in my stomach, thinking the conference was going to be canceled or that there would be legal trouble. It was a stark reminder that when something high-stakes comes up, the right move is often to pause and get counsel before responding. We resolved it, but the fear was real.

The people who kept me going

Throughout the planning, people showed up at the right moments.

One early sponsor believed in the conference from day one and told me it would be a hit. When others couldn’t see the potential, he kept encouraging me to keep going during our regular check-ins. Our PR partner reached out proactively as I was starting to gain traction and simply wanted to put their name behind it — that provided enormous validation for what we were doing. I had mentors and friends in the industry who shared their excitement and pride. Classmates reached out to congratulate me and encourage me to keep hosting and keep writing.

These relationships are the things I’m going to cherish going forward, beyond the conference itself. More than anything, they were a constant reminder of why I wanted to put a conference together in the first place. It was and is an excuse to meet incredible people doing fascinating things in a growing industry.

The day itself

After my keynote, I had a chance to sit down and welcome Daniel Kraft, our other keynote speaker. For the first time all day, I could actually survey the room. More than 400 people packed into a building — something that had not existed as a concept seven or eight months earlier. That was surreal.

The other thing I didn’t expect was the warmth. I was hugging people I had no prior relationship with — speakers, sponsors, attendees — and just celebrating together. This was a collective effort, and the energy in the room reflected that. People were networking, forming new relationships, and staying engaged throughout the entire day. More than 250 people stayed for over eight hours.

The morning after

After the conference, the feeling was mixed. There was excitement about what could possibly happen next — real momentum, real relationships, real proof that this mattered. But there was also a hollowness. This enormous thing that had consumed my life for the better part of a year was suddenly over. The question shifted from “Can I pull this off?” to “What do I do now?”

That tension — between the high of what we built and the uncertainty of what comes next — is something I’m still sitting with. More on that in Part 3.

Next week: Part 2 — What the industry’s best told us about the next decade of consumer health.

Interested in attending or getting involved in next year’s conference? Sign up here: https://forms.gle/tBqzqdGgdrW9qEtj9

In February 2026, more than 400 people packed into Li Ka Shing at Stanford Medicine for a one-day summit centered on a single question: What does the next decade of consumer-empowered care look like, and who are the companies driving it?

Eight months earlier, the conference didn’t exist. It started as an idea as I spent a summer interviewing founders, mapping the consumer health industry, and becoming increasingly convinced that there was a gap no one was filling. There were conferences focused on healthcare research. There were conferences about AI in medicine. But there wasn’t a gathering that brought together students, founders, investors, and scientists to discuss how to actually build scalable businesses that improve health outcomes. That was the niche.

Getting it off the ground required 50 emails to find one faculty sponsor, 180 outreach attempts to secure 10 sponsors, and more moments of doubt than I’d care to admit. I almost didn’t take the call with the faculty member who eventually said yes — because twelve had already said no.

But it happened. And the response far exceeded anything I anticipated.

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By the numbers

We sold out twice — first at 400 tickets, then again at 475 when we added an overflow room. VIP tickets sold out in under 24 hours. All 400 general tickets were gone within the first week. The waitlist topped 400 people. The interest list topped 1300 people. Over 250 attendees stayed the entire day — more than eight hours.

The speaker lineup included 30+ CEOs, VPs, investors, and entrepreneurs representing companies with a combined valuation north of $20 billion: WHOOP, Oura, HYROX, Headspace, Noom, [solidcore], Function Health, Midi Health, Eight Sleep, Eudemonia, and others. Forbes, TechCrunch, The New York Times Wirecutter, The Washington Post, CNET, The Wall Street Journal, and Business Insider all expressed interest in covering the event.

Top-line revenue was $150K, raised in under seven months through sponsorships and ticket sales. Over 500K impressions were generated on LinkedIn from posts by attendees, speakers, and sponsors in the weeks leading up to and following the event.

A deeper undertone ran throughout the day: the consumer health movement has not yet meaningfully shifted key U.S. health indicators, including obesity and depression. To date, the industry has largely served higher-income, informed, motivated, and generally healthy individuals — understandable given its early-adopter stage. I opened the day with that reality as a call to action, asking speakers and attendees to name what must be true for this space to deliver not only financial returns, but real systemic health impact.

What followed was one of the most substantive days of conversation I’ve been part of. Below are the themes that defined it.

Theme 1: Trust and evidence are the real competitive moats

This was the through-line of nearly every session. Not trust as a branding exercise — trust as a business strategy.

Ricky Bloomfield, CMO of Oura, was direct: if consumer health platforms want to be taken seriously, they must measure clinical outcomes and healthcare cost reduction, not just engagement metrics. Alex Vannoni from WHOOP described trust as the result of seeing real results and outcomes, which leads to sustained engagement. Creating “magical moments” through high-fidelity health data builds the confidence that keeps people in the product.

Christopher Gardner, Stanford professor of medicine, put it most starkly: “The tech is ahead of the science, and the science is trying to catch up. If we don’t have the science to back up the products, they will never be complete, and people will be distrustful.”

The companies investing in clinical rigor now — funding trials, building medical advisory boards, pursuing FDA engagement — are not doing it to check a box. Oura, WHOOP, Noom, Eight Sleep, and January AI are all running real-world evidence programs. Geoff Cook shared that Noom will invest $10 million in research in 2026 alone. Science is becoming the moat that marketing cannot replicate. And for an industry where NAD, trending supplement protocols, and heavily marketed longevity products are running ahead of peer-reviewed validation, that matters.

Theme 2: The shift from reactive to proactive is happening — but the barriers aren’t technological

The clearest macro theme across sessions: care is moving from episodic, hospital-centered treatment to continuous, consumer-controlled prevention. One stat captured it perfectly — 97% of the $5.3 trillion U.S. healthcare spend goes toward treating disease. Only 3% goes to prevention. We have built an almost perfectly reactive system.

Multiple panels reinforced that wearables are becoming core clinical infrastructure rather than optional accessories. Oura and WHOOP are actively pursuing FDA-recognized clinical outcomes. CGMs, HRV, sleep data, and metabolic markers are evolving into data streams that may one day replace some of what currently requires a clinic visit. WHOOP reports that roughly 70% of monthly users check the app every single day — that’s not a gadget; that’s behavior-change infrastructure.

But the biggest barriers to this future are not technological. The tech largely exists. The hard problems are getting people to change their behaviors and making these tools accessible and affordable beyond an affluent early-adopter segment. As one attendee wrote afterward: “Consumer health is still largely inaccessible. How might we bring a stronger lens of moral obligation around access?”

Theme 3: Data is abundant — meaning is scarce, and AI changes the economics

“Data is the marketing for medicine,” said Geoff Cook.

Wearables, CGMs, at-home diagnostics, sleep trackers, and continuous biomarkers are generating more signal than ever. The bottleneck is no longer data collection — it’s translation. Matteo Franceschetti of Eight Sleep said it directly: users don’t want to learn multiple apps. They want to understand what matters to them. In the near future, that means a personal health agent that doesn’t just collect data but knows your context, maintains continuity, and routes you to the right intervention at the right moment.

There was lively discussion about a personal operating system for health — a unified environment consolidating wearables, biomarkers, and AI-driven insights. But as multiple investors pointed out, blending data across wearables, sleep devices, CGMs, EMRs, and nutrition logs is far more complex than marketing suggests. Fragmentation is not disappearing. The opportunity may not be the aggregator, but the infrastructure layer that makes aggregation usable.

Alison Ryu of Able Partners framed the AI opportunity clearly: it’s not the AI doctor. It’s the orchestration layer. And on the economics side, she made the point that AI has finally made it possible to build a counterfactual at the individual level — to put a dollar value on the health outcome that didn’t happen. That changes the ROI case for prevention in a way that a self-insured employer or payer will actually act on.

Theme 4: How investors and builders are thinking about the next chapter

The investor panel — Julie Yoo (a16z), Holly Maloney (General Catalyst), Alison Ryu (Able Partners), and Kurt Seidensticker (Starshot Ventures) — delivered a sharp message: they want retention that tells a behavioral story. The companies that struggle are the ones where cancellation costs the user nothing, because the product never became part of their life. The companies that win are the ones where leaving means giving up a result, an insight, a community, or an identity.

GLP-1s emerged as a case study in this dynamic. Geoff Cook’s framing was one of the most-discussed ideas of the day: 11 out of 12 people stop taking GLP-1 medications by year 3, and without lifestyle change, the weight comes back. A full third of people signing up for Noom were previously on a GLP-1. The medication opens a window. What you build inside that window — habits, routines, identity — is what determines whether the change lasts. The behavior change infrastructure is the product.

Community surfaced as an unexpected through-line. Jonathan Leary, CEO of Remedy Place, described the paradox: “The healthier I got my patients, the more isolating their lifestyle became. That’s where the birth of social self-care was.” Companies like HYROX, [solidcore], and Eudemonia aren’t in the fitness business — they’re in the belonging business, making the healthy behavior the social behavior. Shared discomfort builds bonds, and bonds drive retention.

What’s coming in this series

This write-up is the first in a four-part series. Over the next three weeks, I’ll go deeper:

Part 1: How a second-year MBA built a 400-person conference from scratch. The origin story — from the idea through the rejections, the breakthroughs, the viral LinkedIn post, and the moments of doubt that almost ended it before it started.

Part 2: What the industry’s best told us about the next decade of consumer health. A deeper dive into the panels, the quotes, and the open questions the conference surfaced — with my own take on what it means.

Part 3: The playbook. A step-by-step guide to building a conference from zero: finding sponsors, securing speakers, selling out tickets, and the lessons I took away about building something from nothing.

If you’re interested in the future of consumer health — as a founder, investor, operator, or someone who simply cares about living better — I hope this series is useful. And if you’re interested in attending or getting involved in next year’s event, you can sign up here: https://forms.gle/tBqzqdGgdrW9qEtj9

Thank you to everyone who helped bring this conference to life — our sponsors, speakers, faculty, volunteers, and attendees. My hope is that this jumpstarts an ongoing conversation at Stanford and beyond about financially viable solutions that improve health outcomes while positively transforming the medical system. We need that now more than ever.

I never fully understood the power of an unknown conversation until this past summer. Don’t get me wrong—I’ve done my fair share of networking back as an undergrad at the University of Michigan, trying to break into consulting (Go Blue). But that networking was targeted, surgical, and singularly focused. It lacked the spontaneity, openness, and unstructured nature of the conversations I’ve had in the last six months.

As I’ve been navigating the consumer health and wellness space and building my network and community, one of my biggest takeaways is this: you really can’t predict where a single conversation might lead. When I kicked off this summer, I had a few clear goals: map out the current industry landscape, form relationships that could help me eventually build a company in the sector, and bring together a community of like-minded people through a conference.

Some conversations go nowhere. They’re a 30-minute exchange of ideas and perspectives—which still provides opportunities to hone how I articulate my thinking about consumer health and wellness. Other conversations are sparks that set off a chain of domino-like fireworks. They start small and culminate in a single huge moment that unlocks everything.

That’s what I didn’t realize at the start of the summer: how much those “wild card” conversations—the ones where I don’t know exactly where they’ll go—would end up shaping everything. It’s what I like to think of as “manufacturing serendipity.” I’ve come to understand that while I cannot control luck itself, I can put myself in situations where luck has a chance to find me. It’s about taking as many at-bats as possible, getting in front of as many people as possible, trusting that one of those conversations will lead to an amazing relationship, an unforeseen opportunity, or an unexpected experience.

Here are a few concrete examples from the summer.

Getting the first speaker

Getting our first prominent speaker on board for the conference came down to a chain of conversations I didn’t initially think would lead anywhere. I had been posting on LinkedIn about the conference when someone reached out to say they wanted to help. In the early days, I was grateful for any direction or guidance. This person shared they had run a health conference at their university. At the end of our conversation, she offered, quite nonchalantly: “Hey, do you want me to intro you to Bryan, the CEO of [solidcore]?” I was a little stupefied at how this amazing opportunity seemed like no big deal to her. She connected me to Bryan, who became the first big speaker to join the conference, giving me the confidence and momentum to continue reaching out to other big CEOs. “If I could get him, I could get others excited.”

Meeting potential co-founders

Later in the summer, a young entrepreneur sent me a message: “Hey, I like what you’re writing and think you need to meet Brian. He has a community of leaders and entrepreneurs in the wellness space. Would you like an intro?”

At this point, I was heads-down on conference planning and uncertain whether I should take the call with Brian. But remembering my own advice, I said yes—and what a blessing that turned out to be. Brian is an incredible person, and the community he’s building is genuine, authentic, and supportive. The story doesn’t end there. In the community Slack, someone posted about an amazing CTO for anyone looking to build. I immediately reached out and spoke with him, only to learn he was already working on several companies. He was happy to help me find the right technical co-founder but couldn’t ideate on a company together. Disappointing, but I was still excited to build a friendship over the coming years. A few months later, he reached out asking to connect me with two other founders building a company in the space—they needed someone with a marketing and operations background! Once again, I was blown away by how a seemingly innocent conversation earlier in the summer led to a potential opportunity for my second goal.

Final thoughts

I took away a few things from this summer beyond manufacturing serendipity. Here are three lessons I wanted to share:

1. The importance of posting content to accomplish a goal. Very few of the conversations I had over the summer would have happened if I hadn’t been actively posting on LinkedIn or Substack, telling the world what I cared about. It connected me with people who could help me reach those goals.

2. Caring about the topic I’m posting about. Sharing my excitement for consumer wellness resonates with others who are passionate about the same topic. By acting as a beacon, I helped curate a community of people who cared about the same things. That passion multiplied in our conversations.

3. The incredible generosity of others and how people want to help. I truly feel lucky about many of these conversations and attribute it to the kindness and generosity of others who offered their help with no expectation in return. I hope to exemplify that more and more in my own life.

This approach wasn’t all fun and roses. There’s a flip side: while it’s great to say yes to many conversations, I have to be mindful of my time and energy. There were weeks when I woke up, looked at my calendar, and felt anxiety creep up. I had no breaks. It was meeting after meeting. I didn’t create space to reflect, do deep work, or take action on the amazing conversations I was having. I learned to be more discerning and am working on being more disciplined with my time. If something doesn’t align with my goals, it’s okay to be intentional and say no.

The power of an unknown conversation between two humans excited about the same thing is extraordinary. I aim to carry this forward into 2026. To continue finding ways to manufacture serendipity and build lasting, meaningful relationships.

A unique childhood

The rickety yellow school bus made its way through the mountain’s half-paved, winding forest roads. The suspension struggled to support the 52 teenagers inside. Facilitators collected our cellphones as we left the bus for a week-long electronics-free retreat. We traded beds for tents and sleeping bags. Texting for hour-long silent meditations. Teenage worries and silly jokes for deep conversations and emotional reconstruction.

This retreat was the third of four Teen Insight seminars, equipping teens with tools to live a more loving life. Or, as my friends used to joke, confidence camp. They weren’t wrong. In one exercise, three others shouted labels I identified with but was ashamed of, over and over. The goal: to strip them of their power, recognizing they were just words, only as heavy as the meaning I gave them. To gain confidence in myself and my inner voice.

My formative years were filled with seminars, council sessions, and lectures on the importance of living with intention, developing relationships, and leading through clear communication. I assumed an MBA would deepen these skills. So far, I’ve been wrong; my first two quarters were packed with Finance, Accounting, Microeconomics, Statistics, and Systems Optimization.

The Gap in Today’s Curriculum

In today’s world, this curriculum falls short of the expectations of business leaders. Over the past five years, artificial intelligence has taken over tasks core to current MBA training. Sophisticated LLMs can perform financial modeling and forecasting with high speed and accuracy, analyzing vast datasets far beyond human capacity.3 In strategy development, AI now augments and partly automates the analytical inputs – sizing markets and simulating scenarios.3

At school, AI has infiltrated the classroom. It is used to mindlessly answer homework, ace tests, and read + summarize our cases. This is dangerous. It’s making students lazier, less competent, and worst of all: generic.

We are facing an academic epidemic.

Now more than ever we must develop the skills that make us human. Research analyzing 375 million U.S. job postings (2010–2022) found that greater AI adoption actually increased demand for those who can apply judgment, oversight, and strategic vision alongside AI tools.2 Universities must change what is considered a required course, shifting focus from statistics, economics, and accounting to softer skills: intentionality, communication, and creative thinking.

An updated curriculum would include the following.

Pre-Quarter: Emotional Intelligence (EQ) Assessment & Retreat

Before entering the MBA, students will complete an Emotional Intelligence (EQ) assessment that measures self-awareness, empathy, and resilience—traits linked to stronger leadership and creative decision-making. The retreat will simulate high-pressure leadership moments, teaching students to regulate emotions, manage stress, and build psychological safety within teams.

First quarter: Mindfulness & Understanding the Self

Mindfulness training improves focus, reduces cognitive biases, and enhances decision-making. Mindfulness practice has been shown to increase analytical performance and reduce emotional reactivity. Through meditation, cognitive exercises, coaching, and introspection exercises, students will develop a clearer sense of their values and leadership philosophy.

Second Quarter: Interpersonal Relationships & Building Relationships

Studies show that emotional intelligence predicts 58% of a leader’s success, outweighing technical expertise. This quarter’s course focuses on active listening, difficult conversations, and trust-building—skills that drive effective leadership and team cohesion. Using case studies and role-play, students will practice navigating conflict and fostering collaboration in high-stakes business settings.

Third Quarter: Intentionality & Decision-Making

Leaders make thousands of decisions daily, yet most operate on autopilot.15 When we operate without intention, we act from our subconscious, which can result in unintended consequences. This quarter’s programming will focus on learning to set a clear intention, with guidelines for writing effective intentions, weekly workshops on intention iteration, and daily assignments for habit formation.

Not everyone supports integrating purpose-driven education and emotional intelligence into MBA programs. Critics argue these topics are “fluffy” compared with core business skills. Others question whether traits like emotional intelligence or ethics can be taught in a classroom, as they’re shaped by upbringing. Indeed, earlier research noted that typical MBA programs barely moved the needle on soft skills. Traditionalists insist business schools should focus solely on management science and measurable business outcomes.

These are valid concerns about adjusting MBA curricula. I believe that incorporating mindfulness, self-awareness, and intentionality help produce leaders that are not only smart, but also creative and principled - exactly the kind of leaders needed in an era where business challenges are as much human as they are technical.

There is little chance I will perform a regression analysis in the next 20 years. There is a 100% chance I will have to communicate my purpose to a room of stakeholders and employees. And yet, here I am, writing this paper in my statistics class, as ChatGPT finishes up my assignment.

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This was an incredible class at Stanford. We had the chance to listen to various Business Leaders from multiple religious backgrounds, as we discussed with our diverse classmates what it means to bring religion and spirituality into the workplace and our lives. This ranged from Judaism to Christianity to Buddhism to Hinduism, among others.

The final paper involved answering 1 of 4 questions. The one I went with was: What ultimately matters most in life, and how can one remain committed to that, day in and day out, in one’s work?

A note of gratitude to Joel Peterson, who sadly passed away this week. While I was unable to take his class “Engineering a Remarkable Life”, the brief 70 minutes we had with him in our Spirituality and Religion class left me with the sense that Joel was one of the most intentional, family-oriented, principled, and loving people at the GSB. May his lessons and kindness bestowed upon decades of GSB students echo into the world, rippling outward endlessly.

My Thoughts on What Matters

What ultimately matters most in my life is living in a way that expands joy, love, acceptance, and wonder, for myself and for the people whose lives intersect with mine. With those as my north stars, everything else, titles, outcomes, even “impact”, becomes secondary. Focusing on the inputs, how I show up, act, and react supersedes the outcome and output. This is not saying the result is unimportant; far from it. This means I show up highly involved in the process but with low attachment to the outcome, knowing I cannot control everything. Underneath all this sits a spiritual conviction: that I am co-creating my life with a greater power, and that my job is to show up with clear intention, even if the outcomes don’t unfold on my preferred timeline.

This paper explores what matters most in life and how I try (and often fail) to live it through my work. Each day is a learning opportunity. Each moment is a learning opportunity. From our class and the Exemplars who came to speak with us, I turn to three exemplars, Jeff Weiner, Joel Peterson, and Valarie Kaur, who each offer a different spiritual path. Jeff models compassion as “empathy plus action.” Joel frames faith as a gift that I get to choose, a part of my identity, and an agreem ent I make with the universe. Valarie calls us to “revolutionary love,” grounded in wonder and forgiveness. Together, they give me a vocabulary, a set of disciplines, and a few mirrors for how I want to show up in my own career.

What Matters Most: Joy, Love, Acceptance, Wonder

When I strip away ambition, perfectionism, and the noise of comparison, what I actually want is a life where I feel rooted in love, extend that love outward, and stay open and curious about the world. Joy, for me, is the sense that my values, relationships, and work are pulling in the same direction, following the agreements I’ve made with myself and others. Occasionally, this requires accepting the moment as if I’d chosen it, something I’ve learned from Eckhart Tolle and that ties to Buddhism. Acceptance isn’t passive resignation; it’s accepting the truth about reality without immediately trying to control everything. All suffering is resistance against what is, and joy can be found at the other end of surrender.

Wonder and curiosity are two values/principles that I have learned more about this year. It’s walking into a room asking, “Who is this person? What do they carry? What makes them light up?” That stance of curiosity keeps me from making preconceived judgments about others; judgments based on subconscious things I’m carrying within me. Wonder and curiosity help me remain neutral and separate from the situation, so I can better understand how I want to react. By choosing wonder, I open the possibility of forming deeper, more meaningful relationships with new people.

The hard part is practicing this in the realities of work: inboxes, group projects, group chats, deadlines, and performance evaluations. It’s one thing to say, “love and wonder matter most.” It’s another to hold my tongue in a meeting when my ego wants to prove I’m the most intelligent person in the room, or to stay curious with someone I find irritating. That gap between what I say I value and how I actually behave is where spirituality stops being abstract and becomes a daily practice. The way forward is to bring more consciousness, awareness, and discipline to each situation. Recognizing and preparing so that I can show up with love, wonder, and acceptance, rather than showing up and simply “going through the motions.”

Compassion as Active Empathy – Starting with Myself

One of the tools I’ve taken from this class is the distinction between empathy and compassion. In my reflection on Jeff Weiner, I wrote that empathy lets me feel what another person feels, but compassion is “an objective application of empathy” that moves me to action. Jeff himself defines compassion as “putting yourself in the shoes of another person, seeing the world through their perspective for the sake of helping them,” an idea he traces back to reading The Art of Happiness and integrating Buddhist teachings into his leadership at LinkedIn.

This distinction was most useful in the context of compassionate leadership, as it helped me understand how compassion and empathy support my organization’s members. When people feel they can come to me, have a conversation about a problem (work, life, or anything), and be heard and helped, that creates an environment for collaboration and progress. Help can be anything from an open ear to a strategizing partner to a coach. If what matters most to me is love in action, then compassion is the bridge between my team and the choices I make as a leader.

The part I conveniently gloss over is self-compassion. The “hierarchy of compassion” that starts with self, then loved ones, and finally everyone else challenged me more than I expected. I like the idea of being the person who shows up for others. It’s harder to admit that when I skip my own spiritual practices, neglect sleep, or treat my body as an afterthought, I’m not being virtuous. In these moments, I’m quietly draining the very reservoir I claim to draw from. If my own “cup” is empty, the energy I offer others often comes with strings attached: validation, control, or unstated expectations of reciprocation.

One concrete way I remain committed to what matters most is by treating my personal work as a non-negotiable practice. I’m still getting better at this, and have a long way to go (especially at business school). Compassion becomes less about being “nice” or “empathetic” and more about being resourced enough to make difficult decisions without ignoring anyone’s feelings, including my own.

Faith as Gift, Covenant, and Co-Creation

Another anchor for me is the sense that faith itself is a gift, a blessing I get to choose to receive and renew. In my reflection on Joel Peterson, I grappled with his distinction between a contract and a covenant. A contract is an agreement with clear conditions and escape clauses. A covenant, in Joel’s Latter-day Saint framing, is an unbreakable commitment grounded in a relationship with God. I realized that I’ve often treated my own spiritual practices as a contract: “If I meditate every day, then I’ll get everything that I want in my life.” When I inevitably break the contract, I use the failure as ammunition against myself and, therefore, spirit.

Reframing faith as a covenant shifts that. Suppose my relationship with spirit is a covenant. In that case, the daily practices are not about earning love or blessings but about remembering a truth that already exists: that I am loved, and that my life is not purely a solo project. My work becomes a site where I participate in something larger than myself. In the sessions with Joel, I wrote that putting God first doesn’t diminish his career; it seems to deepen it. That gives me data that a spiritually grounded life isn’t at odds with ambition; it can actually clarify which ambitions are worth pursuing.

The phrase that keeps returning to me is: “Preach the gospel, and sometimes use words.” For me, this captures how I want to integrate faith and work. I’m not interested in imposing my beliefs on colleagues or future employees. Spirituality is a personal journey that can be shared with others but not forced upon others. I want my faith to show up in every action, including how I treat people in high-stakes moments: layoffs, promotions, conflicts, fundraising, or crises. Do I choose transparency over ego? Do I honor someone’s dignity when delivering hard feedback? Do I let humility coexist with conviction when I’m pitching an investor or making a pivotal decision?

Thinking of faith as a covenant and gift helps here. If I genuinely believe I am co-creating reality with spirit, then my responsibility is to act with as much integrity and love as I can, and then release the outcome.

Forgiveness, Ego, and the Daily Discipline of Love

If love and wonder are my north stars, forgiveness is the tool I use along the journey. In my reflection on Joel, I resonated with the idea that “forgiveness is for the forgiver, not the forgiven.” My own spiritual tradition teaches that God is in everyone, and that by loving others and myself unconditionally, I’m returning that love to God. When I withhold forgiveness, I’m the one carrying the weight. I’m the one hurting myself. This also applies to forgiveness towards myself. If I choose to hold onto hate or anger, I am the one who feels the impact.

Valarie Kaur sharpens this further. In her Sikh framework of “revolutionary love,” forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting or excusing harm; it means refusing to carry forward the hate that was done to you. She points to examples like the Sikh community members who forgave a man who murdered their loved one, not to absolve him but to free themselves from being defined by his violence. That is forgiveness as a daily discipline, not sentiment.

Something my coach always shares with me is: “It’s better to do the forgiveness immediately when I notice it, for if I let it sit, then it only builds and fuels the ego.” I’ve found this to be true, and yet highly challenging. It makes forgiveness a daily practice, heck, it makes it a minute-by-minute practice. The level of discipline, watchfulness, and ruthlessness required to ensure I am (internally) living a life of love and joy towards myself, spirit, and others is hard. What came up in Valarie’s session, though, was the question of: “Which hard do you want?” Do I want the hard of staying disciplined, or do I want the hard of the negativity, anger, and sadness that arises when I don’t forgive and release that which is not loving? The answer is obvious, but not always the one I choose.

Remaining committed to what matters most, day in and day out, is less about dramatic declarations and more about these micro-choices: who I forgive, how quickly I repair, and whether I let my ego or my values drive the following conversation.

Learning from the Exemplars

Against that backdrop, Jeff Weiner, Joel Peterson, and Valarie Kaur become more than case studies; they are living experiments in integrating spiritual convictions into modern leadership. Each of them answers the question “what matters most?” differently, yet they converge on practices that I can actually emulate.

Jeff Weiner: Buddhist-Informed Compassion in a Public Company

Jeff Weiner’s leadership at LinkedIn is explicitly grounded in a Buddhist-inspired understanding of compassion. He traces a turning point in his leadership to reading The Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama and encountering the distinction between empathy and compassion. He began to see compassion as “empathy plus action,” and built his philosophy of “managing compassionately” around that idea.

What strikes me is how concrete he made this inside a high-pressure tech company. In interviews and talks, Jeff argues that managing compassionately is not about avoiding hard decisions; it’s about understanding what people are trying to accomplish and helping them achieve mutually agreed-upon objectives. In my reflection, I highlighted his performance-review philosophy: evaluating not just what someone accomplished but also how they did it. That simple addition changes the culture. It sends a clear message that results achieved through fear, manipulation, or ego are not wins.

Jeff’s emphasis on self-reflection also landed with me. His story about a conflict with a superior and a direct report, and his realization that his emotional reactions revealed more about his unresolved issues than about theirs, gave me a framework for conflict. Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with them?” I can ask, “What is this reaction revealing in me?” That’s essentially a Buddhist move: using suffering and irritation as opportunities for insight, not just as problems to fix.

Finally, his hierarchy of compassion (self → loved ones → then everyone else) offered a structure for staying committed to what matters most. Jeff’s meditation practice and commitment to mental stillness give him the inner space to extend compassion outwards; they aren’t just private hobbies but preconditions for his leadership.

Joel Peterson: Trust, Covenant, and a Whole Life

If Jeff’s core concept is compassion, Joel Peterson’s is trust. In The 10 Laws of Trust, he calls trust “the operating system for a life well-lived,” arguing that without trust, even simple work becomes slow and difficult. In the class discussion, we framed Joel’s impact in terms of the triangle of trust, authority, and competence. We discussed how all three are required to enact true change in an organization and a relationship. Others must trust us, believe in our competence, and respect our authority in making decisions.

Underneath his business advice sits a distinctly Latter-day Saint view of covenantal faith. Joel doesn’t present his Mormonism as something he squeezes in on Sundays; it shapes how he allocates time (family, work, God) and how he defines purpose. He jokes about not golfing because his hours are already spoken for by what matters most. That unapologetic clarity about priorities challenged me. I spend a lot of time wondering whether I should be doing what others around me are doing. Joel’s life is a reminder that you can’t optimize for everything; you choose the few things you covenant to, and that choice both constrains and enlarges your life.

His reflections on forgiveness deepen this. In tying the idea of “forgiveness is for the forgiver” to a business setting, it becomes a creed for conflict resolution. Resentments, grudges, and silent judgments are like a virus in the system of trust. Letting them accumulate erodes the very foundation you need to do meaningful work together. Forgiveness, trust, and open communication are essential for a growing organization to succeed.

Valarie Kaur: Wonder, Revolutionary Love, and the Sage Warrior

Valarie Kaur brings yet another lens: a Sikh theology of oneness that she translates into the language of “revolutionary love.” In her work and in See No Stranger, she argues that the first practice of revolutionary love is wonder: an “awe-filled openness” to the stories, pain, and joy of others.

In my reflection, I wrote that Valarie reframed wonder and love as leadership practices rather than sentimental add-ons. When I approach someone with the question in mind, “Who is this person?”, I interrupt my brain’s default “us vs. them” wiring. As the world becomes ever more polarized, this is something I find challenging yet strategically wise, and more critical than ever. She argues that practicing wonder expands the circle of who we see as “us.”

Her “sage warrior” image, eyes of the sage, heart of the warrior, ties to a book my coach invited me to read called The Spiritual Warrior. The Spiritual Warrior talks about discipline and ruthlessness. About having a “Sword of Truth”, something that slices through the noise of life to identify what is in the line of truth for me and how I want to carry myself. I want to be wise, grounded, and compassionate, and bold enough to take risks, speak truth, and build ambitious things. Valarie refuses to choose between contemplation and action; her life is a case study in using her own spiritual wisdom to fuel legal advocacy, storytelling, and movement-building. That integration speaks directly to my own desire to blend spiritual psychology, entrepreneurship, and impact.

Integrating Their Lessons into My Own Path

Putting these exemplars side by side, I see a composite answer to the question, “What matters most, and how do I stay committed to it?”

From Jeff, I take a new mode of leadership: compassion as empathy put into service to alleviate suffering or help others reach shared goals. From Joel, I take an appreciation of faith, the importance of trust, clear covenants, and forgiveness. From Valarie, I take a new perspective: wonder as the starting point, the sage warrior as a discipline that insists on refusing to carry negativity forward.

For my own life, that translates into a set of commitments:

1. Daily spiritual practice as a leadership discipline. Prioritizing what I need to do in a day so that the answer to the question, “Am I happy with how I lived my life today?” is yes.

2. Compassion in decisions. When I evaluate performance, design org structures, or make trade-offs, I want to consider both what gets done and how it gets done.

3. Trust as a non-negotiable. I want to keep my say-do gap small, own mistakes quickly, and build cultures where agreements are upheld and accountability is expected.

4. Forgiveness as an ongoing practice. I will inevitably hurt and be hurt by others in my work. Staying committed to love and joy requires that I forgive quickly, learn from the experience, and move on.

5. Wonder before judgment. When I meet someone new, encounter resistance, or feel defensive, I want my first move to be curiosity and inquisitiveness: “What’s their story?”

6. Humility about my own ego. I will continue to wrestle with the line between authenticity and performance. Staying humble, not feeding the ego, and learning from mistakes when I subconsciously give it energy

Ultimately, what matters most to me is that my inner agreements and principles align with my external actions. In both my personal and professional life, I make decisions by considering curiosity, love, and acceptance. That in the moments between stimulus and response, I make the conscious effort to be intentional. The exemplars in this course don’t give me a formula, but they do offer proof that it’s possible to let spiritual conviction permeate professional life. My goal moving forward is to continue showing up and working to be more disciplined and watchful, so that both my inner world and my external experience are abundantly filled with love and joy.

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This post isn’t like the others. I’m writing this on a 7-hour flight with no wifi, coming off one of the busiest weeks of my life. I haven’t had a second to think about what I wanted to write this week, let alone research to put out a piece about the wellness sector.

Instead, I wanted to use this time to reflect on the first quarter, on how I’m using my time, and on how I want to adjust going forward.

My goal is to get back to regular wellness content in the new year. The next few weeks will likely be similar to this post as I travel, manage finals, the conference, and the holidays. I appreciate the time you take to read, and I hope something resonates with your own thoughts and reflections.

Curiosity, discipline, and presence. Those are the three words I’d use to capture the fall quarter. This isn’t comprehensive—there’s gratitude, excitement, anguish, exhaustion, love, happiness, and so many more states of mind that came up during these last few weeks. But more than anything else, my curiosity, discipline, and presence have been the most tangible forces in my life.

Curiosity manifested in my Arbuckle Leadership Fellows program. Alongside 70+ classmates, I embarked on a two-semester journey focused on learning to coach leaders—modeling behavior, creating space, expanding perspectives, shifting mindsets, and committing to action. I learned what kind of coaching resonates with me and how I want to bring my authentic self into coaching relationships. I learned to trust each coachee as a competent, complete, intelligent, and amazing individual. Coaching encouraged me to put aside predispositions and come to each session fully invested in serving the coachee. Sometimes this meant sharing my own thoughts and what’s worked for me. Most of the time, it meant asking questions and understanding both the person and their situation to help them reach their own resolution.

Curiosity also manifested in my fundamentals of effective selling class, where we reframed selling as relationship building with another human. We learned to use curiosity to fully understand another person’s current situation, pain points, ideals, and the impact our help can have in their lives. If this quarter has taught me anything, it’s that authentic and meaningful relationships are the most important thing I can learn to build at this school. Curiosity and wonder are the cornerstones of relationship building. The exposure to frameworks, teachings, lessons, and guidance about interpersonal relationships has exceeded my expectations. What excites me most is recognizing that I can constantly improve—there’s no end goal and no such thing as perfection. By choosing to lead with curiosity, I can continue to build deep relationships with my friends, my team members, future coachees, professional connections, and partners.

Coming into the year, I naively expected I could juggle conference planning, social media content creation (podcast, LinkedIn, Substack), the leadership program, classes, and my own health and work. In the first few weeks, I was able to manage for a few reasons. First, my calendar was relatively open for conference planning. Second, I was saying no to more things. The last few weeks have been a complete 180. My days are a never-ending string of meetings that my past self assumed I’d want to attend. I’ve left no time for reflection, for being intentional, for my sleep, for my health. I recognize that everything on my calendar is something I’ve said yes to—nothing is externally forced.

When I reach a place of gratitude, my calendar shifts from a source of anxiety to one of opportunity. I look at all the meetings as things I GET to do, not things I HAVE to do. If that’s true, then the question I’ve been asking myself is: how do I get to a place of gratitude? A few things came up:

• Making certain things a priority (saving deep work blocks to get homework and conference work done)

• Checking in with myself before deciding to do something, and listening to myself when the answer is no

• Giving myself some grace when things fall through the cracks (e.g., missing a Substack piece last week)

My coach always shares with me: “Discipline is choosing one thing over the other.” As I look ahead to the final two quarters of school, there are a few milestones I want to accomplish:

• Take care of myself physically and spiritually

• Deepen relationships with my friends

• Plan and host the conference

• Launch a company in the consumer wellness space

• Be a great coach and be of service to the GSB community

It will be a prioritization practice to ensure I balance these alongside classes and fun social events that come up.

Lastly, presence. I’m realizing how easy it is to slip into autopilot, to move unconsciously through the day. At times, I find myself irritated, overwhelmed, and upset. When I step back and ask myself if I’ve taken a moment to breathe, set an intention, and move into gratitude, the answer is usually no.

I’ve had a really full last two weeks. My house hosted a Friendsgiving with 30 people. The following night, I went to a candlelit string quartet concert for a classmate’s birthday. Then it was off to Florida for the Eudemonia conference, giving hugs to new friends I’d made over the summer, diving into the wellness space. Another 40-person dinner at our house for a homemade Chinese meal of fried crab and pan-fried soup dumplings. Performing a stand-up comedy set. I write this on a plane to Argentina to explore the country through the eyes of my Argentinian classmates.

My brain is so good at normalizing the absurdity of what I just wrote. At re-baselining what “standard” life is, that I shift back into autopilot. Where I shift out of presence, where I wake up, look at my calendar, and mindlessly walk from activity to activity. I only have two more quarters at Stanford. Two more quarters to build experiences like the ones above. But what’s the purpose of a memory being made if I’m not present in my love and joy during the moment?

I share all of this not as a point of comparison or to call out everything that’s going on, but to work through my own thoughts about how I want to show up in this experience. How I want to bring curiosity, discipline, and presence forward.

This quarter re-instated the knowledge I can handle a lot. The question isn’t whether I can do it all, it’s whether I want to, and at what cost. I’m learning that saying no to good things makes space for great things. That discipline isn’t about grinding harder—it’s about choosing more intentionally.

If you’re also feeling the weight of a full calendar and wondering how to show up more fully, I’d love to hear how you’re navigating it. What helps you stay present? What are you protecting in your own life?

Here’s to more curiosity, more intentional discipline, and more presence in the quarters ahead.

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In our Essentials of Strategic Communication class at Stanford, we were tasked with preparing a five-minute persuasive pitch on a passionate subject. In pondering what keeps me up at night, I landed on a topic top of mind for me and many of my classmates: AI. AI is the first technology that threatens many of the characteristics of our humanity. Namely, it threatens our ability to connect, to create authentically, and to remain curious. My presentation was not a call to stop using AI. Rather, to use it more thoughtfully. More intentionally. To question what role it plays in our lives as humans. To question the information and the answers it provides us.

AI has woven itself into the fabric of modern life. Like many technologies before it, AI promises unprecedented benefits. Nothing comes without its trade-offs. Beneath the promise of progress lies a much more complex reality, one that we’re moving towards unconsciously, driven by capitalistic and competitive greed to be the first to reach AGI.

As someone interested in the long-term flourishing of humanity, across our holistic wellness and beyond into our purpose and fulfillment, I wanted to articulate my concerns. The presentation is not another doomsday speech. Instead, it is a call to action to approach this moment in history with eyes wide open, to use the tools to build systems that serve humanity rather than replace it.

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The Promise That Obscures the Problem

The promise of AI is compelling. The systems can diagnose diseases, optimize logistics, accelerate drug discovery, automate tedious tasks, and personalize solutions to individuals. (Caveat: not all the time… hence why companies are not firing their employees and replacing them with AI). The economic projections are giant: McKinsey estimates AI could add $13 trillion to global GDP by 2030. Alongside that, investment continues to pour into the sector at unprecedented levels, reaching over $250 billion globally in 2024 alone.

However, the narrative of inevitable progress glosses over how these systems actually work and what they’re optimizing for. That narrative also fails to account for the long-term impact these systems may have on our own brains. Whereas other technologies reduce compute power (calculators/computers), AI is the first technology to replace idea creation and human judgment. It’s the first technology with generalizable “reasoning” that passes the sniff test. What’s even scarier is that many of the engineers who built these large language models cannot fully explain why they’re making a particular decision. This creates a dangerous dynamic of delegating decision-making to systems we don’t fully understand.

The adoption of AI mirrors the adoption of social media in the early 21st century. Society rapidly adopted a new technology without the necessary ethical and societal guardrails. What happened? We’re living in an era with more polarization, isolation, and depression than ever before. AI threatens to rapidly expand this problem through curated news feeds, affirmation bias in responses, and AI-generated slop that keeps users engaged on their screens.

The Erosion of Human Agency

The question I spent the most time on during this presentation preparation was: what makes us human? Is it our efficiency? Our accomplishments? Our outputs? The businesses we build? Our social status? None of these felt right, and yet it is in pursuit of these buckets we forgo what truly makes us human: the art of connection, the act of creation, and the pursuit of curiosity. Human beings are meant to form deep and meaningful bonds with one another. We are meant to create art, music, businesses, and movements—not for the outcome or short-term dopamine, but for the struggle and the learnings along the way. We are curious by nature, and it is that curiosity that has fueled scientific, medical, and technological breakthroughs.

If connection, creation, and curiosity are core tenets of what make us human, how is AI impacting our ability to hold agency over these aspects of life?

The Atrophy of Skill - Connection, Creation, Curiosity

When we rely on GPS for every journey, we stop building mental maps of our environment. When we depend on autocomplete for every sentence, we think less carefully about word choice. When we let algorithms curate every aspect of our digital experience, we lose the capacity for serendipitous discovery and for developing our own judgment.

I am not calling for a return to the pre-digital age. For a Dune-like world where technology is forgotten and destroyed. Research shows that over-reliance on automated systems leads to skill degradation. An MIT study found that students who used AI to help write an essay were much less likely to recall their content, let alone feel autonomy over the work they created.

We can see these effects manifesting in three fundamental domains of human experience:

The Decay of Connection

AI is weakening our capacity for genuine human connection and deep interpersonal relationships. Why bother having really challenging human relationships when we can turn to chatbots for advice, validation, or even companionship? These AI interactions are frictionless. They never challenge us and have infinite patience and empathy. However, they’re not real. The relationships are a poor substitute for the genuine connection human beings can generate.

Genuine relationships aren’t easy. They’re not supposed to be. They are messy, uncomfortable, and breakable. They require us to navigate disagreement, sit with discomfort, and develop the tools and emotional intelligence that come from understanding the values and beliefs other humans carry. Who actually looks forward to apologizing when we’ve hurt someone? Nonetheless, it is from our relationship mistakes that we grow as human beings, that we learn from the messy work of being truly known.

When we practice having difficult conversations with AI rather than with actual people, we’re training in a fundamentally different skill set. The AI conversation has no stakes, no emotional weight, and no risk of damaging a relationship we care about. We’re building confidence in a simulation while our real-world interpersonal muscles atrophy.

The Diminishment of Creation

You know the saying, and the famous Miley Cyrus song:

“Ain’t about how fast I get there

Ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side

It’s the climb.”

The creative process has always been about more than the final product. It’s about the struggle, the iterations, the moments of insight that come from wrestling with a problem. When we type a prompt and receive a polished output—a business plan, an essay, a design—we’re skipping the entire cognitive journey that builds our creative capacity.

Creation is how we make sense of our experience and develop our unique voice and perspective. A writer doesn’t just learn to write by reading excellent writing; they learn by struggling with their own sentences, by revising, by discovering what they actually think through the act of articulation. An entrepreneur doesn’t just need a business plan; they need the deep understanding that comes from thinking through every aspect of their business model. They need to spend time speaking to customers, wrestling with tough decisions that don’t have a correct answer, and developing their intuition.

AI allows us to shortcut this process, but in doing so, we sacrifice the learning, the ownership, and the meaning that comes from genuine creation. We get the dopamine hit of having created something—look, a complete business plan in 30 seconds!—without the actual growth that comes from making it ourselves.

The Erosion of Curiosity and Deep Understanding

Perhaps most insidiously, AI is undermining our capacity for genuine curiosity and deep understanding. When any question can be instantly answered, when any topic can be immediately summarized, we lose the motivation to dig deeper, to sit with confusion, to develop our own understanding.

Naval Ravikant has a great saying about understanding: “Knowledge is a skyscraper. You can take a shortcut with a fragile foundation of memorization, or build slowly upon a steel frame of understanding.”

Real learning isn’t about memorizing facts and/or sharing pre-generated information. It’s about developing an accurate and deep understanding of a subject, so much so that you can explain it to a child. This requires time, struggle, and active engagement. When AI provides instant, confident-sounding answers, it’s tempting to accept them at face value rather than question, probe, or seek to understand honestly.

We’ve seen hallucination and affirmation bias in these models. Do not take AI outputs at face value. Question it, learn. These systems are designed to sound confident and to align with what they predict we want to hear. They don’t admit uncertainty well, don’t naturally present competing perspectives, and can’t genuinely help us question our own assumptions. They’re more likely to reinforce them.

When we rely on AI to explain complex topics, we often end up with a surface-level understanding that feels satisfying but lacks depth.

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A Path Forward

I don’t write this to advocate for stopping AI development—that ship has sailed, and trying to halt progress would be both futile and counterproductive. Instead, I’m arguing for approaching AI with appropriate caution, skepticism, and deliberation.

How do we practically do this? Here are three concrete ways to use AI that amplify rather than diminish what makes us human:

On Connection

Use AI to think through how you’re going to have a difficult conversation. Let it help you prepare, consider different perspectives, and refine your approach. But then close the laptop and have that conversation face-to-face. Meet a stranger. Go deep with someone you care about. Build genuine relationships that require patience, empathy, and the messy work of being truly known.

On Creation

Use AI as a thought partner, a brainstormer, an idea generator. But don’t offload the cognitive process of actually creating and executing. Don’t stop at just the dopamine hit of getting ideas instantly. The meaning comes from the struggle, from working through your own thinking, from developing your unique voice and perspective through the act of creation itself.

On Curiosity

When AI gives you an answer, don’t take it at face value. Use it as a starting point to dive deeper, not as the final word. Let AI help you find avenues for exploration, but do the actual exploring yourself. Stay curious about what lies beneath the surface.

The path forward requires recognizing the stakes, asking hard questions, and refusing to be dazzled by the promise of progress while ignoring its costs. But it also requires each of us to make intentional choices about how we use these tools—to automate friction, but not the purpose behind what we’re doing.

In Essence…

We face a fundamental choice regarding AI. Will we thoughtfully integrate these tools in a way that preserves and enhances what makes us human? Or, will we sleepwalk into a future where we’ve optimized ourselves out of relevance? Will we prioritize efficiency and productivity over meaning and purpose?

People have been talking about the risk that AI will become conscious and turn against us. I am talking about another outcome: we unconsciously surrender the things that make life worth living —our connections, our creativity, and our curiosity.

New Possibilities Await

In part 1 of this series, we outlined what GLP-1s are, why they’re seen as essential, and how they’re impacting the healthcare ecosystem. The statistics don’t lie: people are adopting these drugs faster than almost any other medication in recent history. Why? What are the impacts beyond healthcare? Who are the businesses enabling this transformation? What opportunities and challenges face those who want to build in this space?

These are the questions we’ll explore in this post. We’re living through a fascinating shift in how Americans manage their weight, metabolic health, and physical activity. As millions of Americans use—or consider using—these drugs, both established players and new entrants can create new incentive structures, behavioral programs, and adherence guidelines to maximize the positive impact on people’s lives.

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Consumer Behavior: The Changing Landscape

Why have these drugs exploded in awareness and adoption? The obvious answer is their incredible efficacy. A single daily shot driving 10–20% weight loss with minimal effort otherwise… hard to pass up. Yet the drugs’ health impact is only one factor driving behavior change. The rapid embrace of GLP-1 agonists like Ozempic is entwined with American culture, psychology, and our complicated relationship with body image. We’ve grappled with this over the last three decades, shifting from the hyper-sexualization and desire for the “ideal” body type in the early 2000s to the body positivity movement in the 2010s and body neutrality movement in 2020. I’m not commenting on what’s right, good, or best for each person’s relationship with their own weight or others’. However, the psychological impact of commercials and movies idealizing certain body types has created a complex relationship between weight and status in the American psyche.

In recent years, this discussion has shifted to social media. With the rise of GLP-1s, before-and-after pictures of people on their weight-loss journeys have flooded social feeds. These images create a flywheel effect: potential users see others’ outcomes, try the drug themselves, and share their journey to inspire others. The media visibility and viral buzz around GLP-1s cannot be overstated.

Finally, GLP-1s are unique in how consumers can access them. While most drugs require a physician’s prescription obtained in person, the emergence of compound pharmacies and telemedicine offerings has expanded the avenues through which consumers can access these medicines.

This increased adoption has translated into broader changes in industry and consumer behavior. These changes relate to the opportunities we’ll discuss below, so bear with me if there’s overlap. It’s essential to understand how behaviors and businesses are adapting in real time to these drugs.

Changing How and What People Eat

Recent reports have highlighted links between household grocery purchasing and GLP-1 adoption. After starting a GLP-1, households reduce grocery spending by roughly 5% on average over six months. This reduction isn’t uniform—it’s concentrated in high-calorie, processed foods. The President and CEO of Hershey recently noted that “GLP-1 weight-loss drugs are having a ‘mild impact’ on The Hershey Co.’s business.” Spending at restaurants has also dropped (the same study found an 8% reduction in fast-food expenditures). Because GLP-1s curb hunger, users eat out less, consume fewer highly processed foods, and eat smaller portions. Since GLP-1s suppress both hunger cravings and the cravings associated with addictive behaviors—which ultra-processed, high-sugar foods like Hershey’s have exploited to retain customers for decades—this trend makes sense. However, as mentioned in part 1, these behavioral shifts typically last for the first year of use but return when medication stops.

The reduction in ultra-processed food consumption has significant implications for the food and beverage industry. If a substantial portion of Americans reduces their caloric intake by even a few percent, it could stall growth for companies that rely on indulgences. Remember, currently 6% of Americans are on GLP-1s—a number expected to reach at least 12% in the next few years. Morgan Stanley projects that widespread adoption of GLP-1 could lead to a 1–3% drop in overall national consumption. In the context of the $1 trillion food industry, that 1–3% is quite significant.

The opportunity lies in companies focusing on healthier, nutrient-rich products that GLP-1 users might favor. There’s evidence for this: rising yogurt sales among GLP-1 households suggest consumers are seeking easy-to-eat, protein-rich foods. We may see product reformulations or incumbents investing in healthier categories with higher protein, as users demand fewer meals and seek nutrient-dense options when they do eat.

Fitness and Strength Requirements

Initially, there was concern that if a weekly shot could drive weight loss, people might exercise less. However, a different narrative is emerging. Many GLP-1 users are turning to fitness to counter muscle loss and tone up. A segment of patients is seeking personal trainers and programs tailored to their needs while on the medication. Understanding that rapid weight loss without resistance training can lead to significant muscle loss, many are proactively incorporating strength-focused workouts into their routines.

The fitness industry has capitalized on this trend. “Ozempic workouts” or “GLP-1 fitness” programs now emphasize strength training. The goal is to preserve lean muscle mass and bone density while on the drug and to build habits that will maintain health if patients stop taking the medication.

This has created a new niche for fitness services. People who may not have engaged with gyms before are now motivated to exercise as they see their weight drop and want to maximize the aesthetic and health benefits. Personal trainers report an uptick in clients specifically requesting “muscle-preserving” programs while on weight-loss medication.

The symbiotic relationship between GLP-1 use and fitness could have long-term positive effects. If users develop exercise habits during their medication period, they may be better positioned to maintain weight loss after discontinuing the drug. This represents an opportunity for fitness businesses to create sticky, habit-forming programs that extend beyond the medication period.

The Shifting Weight-Loss Industry

GLP-1s have fundamentally disrupted the weight-loss industry. Legacy diet programs relying on calorie restriction and behavioral coaching alone have struggled to compete with a medication that delivers dramatic results with less willpower required. Jenny Craig shut down its retail operations in 2023, and Nutrisystem has seen declining revenues as consumers increasingly opt for pharmaceutical solutions over meal-replacement programs.

Existing weight management companies. Some companies recognized the shift early and adapted. WeightWatchers made a bold strategic pivot by acquiring Sequence, a telehealth platform specializing in GLP-1 prescriptions, in 2023 for $132 million. This represented a significant departure from the company’s primary focus on group meetings and point-counting systems. By integrating clinical weight management and pharmaceutical aids into its offering, WeightWatchers signaled that traditional behavioral coaching alone was no longer sufficient in the GLP-1 era.

Telehealth emerging companies: Similarly, Noom—which built its reputation on psychology-based behavior change through a mobile app—began piloting GLP-1 coaching services in 2023. The company recognized that even its sophisticated digital approach needed to incorporate medication management to remain competitive. These pivots highlight a broader truth: traditional weight-loss businesses must evolve or risk complete disruption.

Aesthetic industry reaping benefits: The aesthetic medicine industry has also found opportunity in this shift. Many patients who lose significant weight rapidly through GLP-1s are left with excess skin or seek body contouring procedures. Plastic surgeons and dermatologists have reported an uptick in requests for skin tightening treatments, body sculpting, and procedures to address the aesthetic aftermath of dramatic weight loss. While this isn’t entirely new—similar trends emerged during the bariatric surgery era—the scale and speed of GLP-1 adoption have amplified demand for these complementary services.

Shifting Stigma and Attitude

The cultural conversation around weight-loss medication has shifted dramatically in recent years. Historically, taking appetite suppressants or weight-loss pills carried stigma—often associated with vanity, weakness, or an inability to lose weight through “proper” diet and exercise. Ozempic and similar GLP-1s have begun to change this narrative.

High-profile celebrities and public figures have openly credited these medications for their transformations, normalizing their use in mainstream culture. When celebrities discuss their GLP-1 journeys on social media or in interviews, it sends a message that seeking medical help for weight management is acceptable—even admirable. This visibility has helped destigmatize what was once a taboo topic.

However, this normalization comes with concerns. As GLP-1s become more socially acceptable, there’s growing worry about misuse by people who don’t meet clinical criteria for the medication. Those with only mild weight concerns or struggling with body dysmorphia may seek these drugs for cosmetic reasons rather than health needs. Healthcare providers report increased pressure from patients who view GLP-1s as a quick fix rather than part of a comprehensive health strategy. The key will be balancing accessibility with appropriate medical oversight to ensure these powerful medications are used safely and effectively.

The Businesses Being Built

While we discussed GLP-1 manufacturers in part 1, they’re only one component of this broader ecosystem. In this post, I’m focusing on the unique ways people are gaining access to GLP-1 agonists. Traditionally, you’d receive a prescription for a drug like Ozempic from your primary care physician during an office visit. This is still the most common scenario, with about 79% of GLP-1 users getting their prescription from a primary care doctor or specialist. However, a significant and growing share of patients are now obtaining these drugs through alternative channels such as telemedicine services, specialty wellness clinics, or compounding pharmacies. This represents a substantial shift in how Americans engage with healthcare for high-demand medication.

How can this be? What has allowed a system where more than 20% of consumers get their drugs from someone other than a primary care doctor? Remember compound pharmacies from part 1? The high cost of Ozempic/Wegovy and periodic shortages opened the door for compounding pharmacies (which are allowed to create custom drug formulations) to offer compounded semaglutide at lower prices. Compounding is permitted only with FDA-approved ingredients or formulations that aren’t essentially copies of branded drugs. However, some pharmacies started using semaglutide salt to make injections, skirting patent technicalities. This created a much cheaper “Generic Ozempic” priced at a few hundred dollars a month, versus $1,300 for Wegovy.

Quality and regulation are major concerns—compounded drugs are not FDA-approved. The FDA has explicitly stated that pharmacies should not compound semaglutide salts for weight loss. Nonetheless, enforcement is difficult, and the practice has continued in many places as demand remains high and consumers seek affordable alternatives.

This has unlocked a new supply source for these drugs, and telehealth companies have taken notice and capitalized on it.

Telehealth Startups and Digital Health Platforms

Telehealth providers have exploded in popularity for GLP-1s for three reasons: (1) discretion, (2) sourcing, and (3) convenience. They’ve been at the forefront of expanding access—many have launched online weight-loss clinics that include GLP-1 prescribing. Patients complete an intake form or have a brief virtual consultation. After meeting the criteria, a provider prescribes the GLP-1, which is delivered to the patient’s home or local pharmacy. This process helps with discretion by offering quick, private access to the drugs. Patients can avoid potentially judgmental in-person conversations by getting evaluated online. On sourcing, telemedicine providers provide another alternative for accessing the medication out-of-pocket if one’s primary doctor is unwilling to prescribe the drugs for weight loss. For convenience, these businesses often bundle insurance navigation, home delivery, and coaching or other services for a monthly fee.

These benefits and the companies offering them do come with drawbacks. Brief virtual consultations may not provide the thorough medical evaluation that in-person visits offer, potentially missing contraindications or underlying health issues that would make GLP-1 use dangerous. Telehealth providers often lack access to patients’ complete medical histories and may not coordinate with primary care physicians, leading to fragmented care. The business model itself creates incentives to prescribe, leading to medications being given to people who don’t meet clinical criteria or who could benefit from trying alternative approaches first. Finally, while some platforms offer coaching, they may not provide the depth of nutritional counseling, mental health support, or comprehensive medical monitoring that complex weight management truly requires.

Here are some of the top companies in the space:

Other Avenues and Options

Medical spas and wellness clinics have emerged as unexpected players in the GLP-1 ecosystem. These establishments, traditionally focused on aesthetic treatments such as Botox, fillers, and laser therapies, have pivoted to include weight-loss medication in their service offerings. The logic is straightforward: their existing clientele is already seeking aesthetic improvements, and GLP-1s represent another tool to help patients achieve their desired appearance.

Many medical spas now offer “medical weight loss” programs that bundle GLP-1 prescriptions with body contouring, IV vitamin therapy, or skin treatments. These clinics typically employ nurse practitioners or physicians who can prescribe medications, operating in a gray area between traditional medical practice and wellness services. The experience is often more luxurious and less clinical than a doctor’s office—appealing to patients who view weight loss as part of broader lifestyle optimization rather than medical treatment.

The medical spa model has proven particularly effective at normalizing GLP-1 use among demographics that might not otherwise have considered obesity medication. By framing these drugs as part of a wellness journey rather than medical treatment, these clinics help reduce stigma while simultaneously expanding their market beyond people with clinical obesity.

Traditional wellness and lifestyle brands have also begun integrating GLP-1s into their offerings, recognizing that ignoring these medications would mean ceding ground to pure-play telehealth competitors. The challenge for these companies is maintaining brand identity while embracing pharmaceutical interventions that might seem at odds with their original philosophy.

Equinox and LifeTime Fitness have begun offering tailored GLP-1 weight-loss programs to members. LifeTime went a step further by piloting GLP-1 weight-loss treatment through in-house physicians. Even companies like Peloton have reportedly discussed how to position their fitness offerings to complement GLP-1 use, recognizing that their customer base increasingly overlaps with medication users.

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The Intersection of Pharma, Telehealth, and Established Healthcare

The GLP-1 ecosystem represents a fundamental shift in how healthcare innovation reaches consumers. Traditional pharmaceutical innovation followed a predictable path: manufacturer → FDA approval → physician prescription → pharmacy dispensing → patient use. Each step was clearly defined, heavily regulated, and controlled by established institutions.

GLP-1s have shattered this mold. The ecosystem now encompasses pharmaceutical manufacturers (Novo Nordisk, Eli Lilly), compounding pharmacies exploiting regulatory gray areas, telehealth platforms bypassing traditional gatekeepers, medical spas medicalizing wellness, established weight-loss companies pivoting their business models, and retailers experimenting with direct distribution. This fragmentation has created unprecedented patient access while simultaneously raising concerns about appropriate use, quality control, and safety.

The intersection of these three forces—pharmaceutical innovation, digital health infrastructure, and established wellness companies—has created an ecosystem where traditional boundaries have blurred almost beyond recognition. The future of the GLP-1 ecosystem will likely depend on how regulators, insurers, and health and wellness systems respond to this fragmentation. The answer will not only shape weight-loss treatment but also potentially serve as a model for how future pharmaceutical innovations reach patients in an increasingly digital, direct-to-consumer healthcare landscape.

Opportunities & Challenges

Access & Adherence Solutions

One of the most significant opportunities lies in solving the adherence challenge that plagues GLP-1 therapy. While these medications are highly effective, they require ongoing use to maintain benefits, and discontinuation rates remain concerningly high. As noted, nearly half of patients stop taking GLP-1s within the first year, often due to side effects, cost concerns, or the burden of weekly injections.

Companies that can improve adherence through better patient education, more robust side-effect management protocols, or innovative delivery mechanisms stand to capture substantial value. This might include apps that provide personalized guidance on managing nausea, platforms that connect patients with others on similar journeys for peer support (see Peoplehood), or services that help navigate insurance coverage and prior authorization hurdles.

The transition off GLP-1 medications represents another critical gap. Many patients will eventually want or need to stop taking these drugs—whether due to reaching their goals, financial constraints, or other reasons. Yet there’s limited guidance on how to transition off medication while maintaining weight loss successfully. Programs focused on this “exit strategy”—combining behavioral interventions, nutritional counseling, and exercise physiology—could serve a substantial, underserved market.

Specialized Nutrition & Supplementation

GLP-1 medications fundamentally change how patients eat, creating opportunities for specialized nutrition products and services. Users often struggle to consume adequate protein and nutrients when appetite is severely suppressed, potentially leading to excessive muscle loss and nutritional deficiencies. Existing products largely fail to meet the need for dense, nutrient-rich foods that appeal to diminished appetites.

Food and supplement companies could develop product lines specifically formulated for GLP-1 users—high-protein, nutrient-dense options in smaller portions that align with reduced appetite and altered taste preferences. Some GLP-1 users report changes in food preferences, often losing their taste for very sweet or fatty foods. Products that anticipate and cater to these shifts could capture a loyal customer base.

Meal delivery services tailored to GLP-1 users represent another opportunity. These could provide appropriately portioned, protein-rich meals designed to prevent muscle loss while accommodating reduced appetite and potential food aversions. Personalization based on the specific GLP-1 medication, treatment stage, and reported side effects could further differentiate these offerings.

Muscle Preservation & Body Composition

The muscle loss associated with rapid GLP-1-induced weight loss has created demand for specialized fitness and supplementation programs. While general strength training helps, there’s room for more sophisticated approaches that optimize muscle retention during weight loss and improve body composition outcomes.

Fitness companies could develop evidence-based protocols tailored to GLP-1 users at different stages of treatment. This might include progressive resistance training programs, guidance on optimal protein timing, and strategies to maintain or build strength despite reduced caloric intake. These could be delivered through apps, in-person training, or hybrid models.

The supplement industry has an opportunity to develop and market products that support muscle preservation during GLP-1 therapy. This goes beyond simple protein powders to potentially include specific amino acid formulations, creatine protocols, or other supplements with evidence for muscle preservation. Companies that can back their products with rigorous research—specifically in GLP-1 users—could command premium pricing.

Post-Weight-Loss Services

As millions of Americans lose substantial weight on GLP-1s, demand for post-weight-loss services will surge. This includes both medical services (skin removal surgery, body contouring) and non-medical offerings (wardrobe consulting, personal styling, psychological support for body image adjustment).

Plastic surgery practices are already seeing increased demand for procedures to address excess skin after dramatic weight loss. However, there’s an opportunity to innovate with less invasive options, financing models that make these procedures accessible, or insurance products specifically designed to cover medically necessary procedures following pharmaceutical weight loss.

The psychological adjustment to a dramatically different body shouldn’t be underestimated. Many people who have been overweight or obese for decades face complex emotional challenges when they lose substantial weight. Therapy and coaching services specialized in this transition could serve a critical need, helping patients develop a healthy relationship with their new body and maintain long-term mental health.

Key Challenges & Considerations

Despite these opportunities, significant challenges loom for anyone building in this space.

Regulatory Volatility. The regulatory environment remains uncertain. The FDA continues to tighten restrictions on compounding pharmacies and may crack down on telehealth prescribing practices that don’t meet appropriate standards of care. In 2025, the FDA declared the Wegovy shortage “resolved” and began warning companies like Hims for promoting compounded alternatives with misleading claims such as “same active ingredient.” Companies built on regulatory arbitrage may find their business models threatened by enforcement actions.

Uncertain Supply Chain. While GLP-1 demand soars, supply chain integrity remains murky. Brand-name manufacturers (Novo Nordisk, Eli Lilly) do not distribute active pharmaceutical ingredients (APIs) for third-party compounding. As a result, many compounders (and their telehealth partners) source APIs internationally, particularly from manufacturers in China and India. While some of these are FDA-registered and inspected, others may operate under inconsistent standards. If the FDA applies tighter import controls or closes enforcement loopholes, a significant portion of the off-brand GLP-1 supply could disappear overnight.

High Churn & Adherence Issues. 50% of patients stop using the drugs after year one, and 85% fall off after year two. This is due to cost, side effects, unrealistic expectations, and the challenge of weekly injections. Currently, behavioral change is not guaranteed—if weight returns after stopping the drug, long-term outcomes suffer.

Payer Reluctance and ROI Questions. Employers and insurers are wary. At $12,000 a year, GLP-1s represent a massive financial commitment, especially without a clear long-term ROI. Few real-world studies yet show how GLP-1s affect hospitalizations, employee productivity, or healthcare utilization at scale. Most commercial plans either don’t cover GLP-1s for weight loss or impose strict access hurdles. Medicare still prohibits coverage altogether, unless used for FDA-approved non-obesity indications such as type 2 diabetes and newer indications like cardiovascular risk reduction.

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We’re Standing at the Precipice

While there’s no such thing as a free lunch, the rise of GLP-1s might say otherwise. These medications were discovered in the early 1980s but have dominated headlines for the last five years. They’ve fundamentally shifted how society and medical professionals approach weight

management—and they’re unlocking broader health benefits we’re only beginning to understand. I see this class of medications as a catalyst: an alternative that gives individuals the flexibility to start living healthier lives. Entirely new business models are being built around them, driving significant changes across healthcare.

What’s truly fascinating is how these drugs have expanded into the consumer health and wellness market. Initially available only through physicians, surging demand created supply shortages. This opened the door for compound pharmacies to produce and sell the drugs directly to consumers. The landscape shifted. The interest in, adoption of, and impact of GLP-1s represent one of the most significant changes in weight management in recent decades. Weight management, obesity, and metabolic health are critical problems in America. As someone interested in consumer health and wellness, I wanted to better understand this space. Today, I’m exploring:

• What are GLP-1s?

• Why are GLP-1s so important?

• How are GLP-1s impacting the healthcare ecosystem?

This is the first of two pieces on GLP-1s and their impact on American healthcare and individual health. The second piece will expand beyond medical considerations, exploring consumer behavior, business implications of this rapid adoption, and the opportunities and challenges for companies building in this space.

Weight Management. Forever Changed

GLP-1 is a natural hormone produced in the human gut. When we eat, intestinal L-cells (enteroendocrine cells in the gastrointestinal tract that secrete hormones) release GLP-1. This hormone enhances insulin release, suppresses glucagon secretion, and slows gastric emptying. Native GLP-1 is rapidly broken down by the enzyme DPP-4, which is why therapeutic GLP-1 drugs are modified to last longer.

Synthetic GLP-1 medications mimic this natural fullness hormone to help control hunger and blood sugar. They work in three ways:

• Brain | Reduce Appetite: GLP-1 travels to your brain—especially the hypothalamus, which controls appetite. There, it binds to receptors on neurons that regulate food intake, suppressing hunger signals and enhancing fullness. Some GLP-1s also act on reward centers, which may explain reduced cravings and less interest in alcohol or smoking.

• Stomach | Slow Digestion: In the stomach and brainstem, GLP-1 slows gastric emptying by acting on receptors. It signals your body to move food more slowly into the small intestine, helping you feel fuller longer.

• Pancreas | Improve Insulin Response: GLP-1 prompts the pancreas to release more insulin when blood sugar rises (by binding to beta cells) and suppresses glucagon (a hormone from alpha cells that raises blood sugar).

These three mechanisms combine to create a powerful effect: users eat less, feel fuller longer, and experience fewer cravings. With these promises, it’s no surprise that the adoption and interest have skyrocketed.

Unforeseen Adoption Rates

The Main Suppliers

Who’s been making this possible? Two companies produced three different drugs: Novo Nordisk released Ozempic and Wegovy (both semaglutide brands), and Eli Lilly released Mounjaro (tirzepatide). Now, you may be asking, what the heck is semaglutide or tirzepatide (honestly, same).

• Semaglutide: activates the GLP-1 receptor, doing all three things we discussed above

• Tirzepatide: targets both GLP-1 and GIP receptors. GIP helps directly release insulin and may do a better job with focused fat loss

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Both are GLP-1 agonists, with tirzepatide being a dual agonist that also targets GIP. In simple terms, agonists are drugs that activate receptors to trigger the body’s natural biological response. In practice, semaglutide offers broader formulation options and proven benefits, while tirzepatide often delivers larger metabolic improvements and weight loss—though it’s injection-only and newer. The choice between them depends on your goals (blood sugar control vs. weight loss), insurance coverage, and how well you tolerate each medication.

Adoption has been staggering. Surveys from 2024–2025 show that roughly 12% of US adults have taken a GLP-1 medication, with 6% currently using one. Prescriptions for Ozempic, Wegovy, and Mounjaro for weight management surged over 20-fold between 2019 and 2022—from 230,000 to over 5 million. With several million Americans now on these medications, GLP-1s rank among the fastest-growing pharmaceutical classes in history.

I mentioned compound pharmacies earlier. Typically, pharmaceutical companies like Novo Nordisk and Eli Lilly hold patents on their branded drugs. When shortages occur, FDA emergency rules allow compound pharmacies to produce generic versions of semaglutide and tirzepatide. These compounded versions are usually cheaper and more accessible—primarily through telehealth platforms. Telehealth platforms like Hims, Ro, and Noom have offered compounded GLP-1s by contracting with licensed compounding pharmacies. Those partners get the active pharmaceutical ingredient (API) from FDA-registered manufacturers and produce sterile injectable formulations in 503A (patient-specific) or 503B (outsourcing) facilities. However, quality varies. The FDA has issued warnings about safety and legitimacy risks with certain compounding pharmacies. In short, compounding pharmacies fill a market gap during shortages but aren’t as trusted as name-brand companies.

Driving Growth

Public familiarity with GLP-1s has increased dramatically. Endorsements from professional athletes (e.g., Serena Williams with Ro) and celebrities have catapulted demand and normalized usage.

A RAND Research Survey found that 14% of US adults report that while they have not used a GLP-1, they are interested in taking one for weight or other health reasons. Other studies have found even higher interest levels, depending on the drug’s time horizon and use case. This means that millions of Americans may be interested in testing GLP-1 medications in the future.

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Demographic Breakdowns

The use of GLP-1s is highest among middle-aged adults, especially women. 1 in 5 women aged 50-64 have reported GLP-1 agonist use… 20%!

Adoption also varies by socioeconomic status, race, and age. Surveys in 2024 revealed access gaps for lower-income groups—a disparity likely driven by differences in insurance coverage and healthcare access. Many public insurance plans didn’t cover anti-obesity drugs until recently. Medicare patients face similar barriers. Seniors (65+) have much lower uptake for weight-loss purposes (only ~1% use GLP-1s for weight loss), mainly because Medicare doesn’t cover obesity medications. That said, around 8% of seniors have used a GLP-1 for diabetes or other chronic conditions.

Almost Too Good to Be True

GLP-1s have earned their reputation. Clinical trials show they deliver real results: patients lose 10–18% of their body weight over roughly 68 weeks when combined with lifestyle changes. But the benefits extend beyond the scale. Many patients see improved blood sugar control, lower HbA1c levels, reduced blood pressure, and better cholesterol profiles.

The cardiovascular benefits are particularly striking. In March 2024, the FDA approved Wegovy for treating heart disease in people with obesity based on the SELECT trial, which showed a 20% reduction in major adverse cardiovascular events among higher-weight patients with heart disease but without diabetes, compared to placebo.

Researchers are also seeing promising effects on addictive behaviors. Early research suggests GLP-1 may reduce the brain’s reward response to substances like alcohol and nicotine. Scientists are exploring these drugs as potential addiction treatments due to their craving-suppressing effects. Another emerging area is cognitive health—scientists have observed neuroprotective signals in animals, hinting at benefits for conditions like Alzheimer’s. While unproven in humans, these findings suggest the drugs’ impact may extend far beyond weight loss.

So what’s the catch?

Several things: direct side effects, indirect side effects, adherence challenges, and the need for continued use.

• Direct side effects: The most common side effects are gastrointestinal. Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and constipation are frequently reported as the body adjusts to slowed gastric emptying. Most patients describe these effects as mild, but 5–10% experience severe GI issues. Many find that side effects diminish over time. A more serious concern is the loss of lean mass during weight loss. Because these drugs cause rapid weight loss, not all of the weight lost is fat—a significant portion is lean mass (muscle and bone). This affects overall fitness, leaving patients feeling weaker or noticing muscle atrophy. This lean mass loss counterbalances the benefits GLP-1s offer for chronic disease management. Research consistently shows that resistance training and muscle mass are crucial for long-term health, stability, and mobility. GLP-1-induced frailty carries downstream risks for longevity. If you’re thin but frail in old age, a broken bone can trigger a cascade of medical problems.

  

• Indirect side effects: Mental health challenges emerge as another concern with GLP-1 use. Some users experience anxiety, depression, or suicidal thoughts. A parallel exists with bariatric surgery—patients often show elevated depression rates after those procedures. The drastic change in eating patterns can unmask underlying mental health issues that food previously helped manage. These aren’t necessarily drug side effects. Rather, the mental health struggles often existed beforehand, masked by overeating and using food for emotional support. A Japanese study illustrates this complexity. Scientists followed 92 people with type 2 diabetes on GLP-1 therapy for one year, examining how eating patterns affected outcomes. The results: “external eaters” (people who eat when they see or smell delicious food) lost significantly more weight than “emotional eaters” (those who eat to soothe negative feelings).

• Adherence: A study surveyed more than 120,000 people, with and without type 2 diabetes, who were taking GLP-1 medication. All were considered overweight or had obesity, and 61% had type 2 diabetes. Half the participants stopped treatment after a year. 85% quit after two years. The drop-off was even higher for those without type 2 diabetes. Injecting oneself with a needle every single day can become a chore and an annoyance. While there are other delivery methods for semaglutide (ingestible tablets), they have proven to be less effective than the injectable options.

• Continued Use: Health improvements depend on continued medication use. A 2022 clinical trial followed roughly 200 people who had taken semaglutide for over a year and lost an average of 17% of their body weight. When some participants stopped the drug, they regained about 12% of their body weight within a year. While keeping off 5% is still an accomplishment, why does two-thirds of the loss return? GLP-1s signal to the brain that the body is full, curbing appetite. When people stop taking them, cravings and hunger return. This suggests GLP-1s may work best as long-term or even lifelong therapy for chronic conditions like type 2 diabetes, obesity, or cardiovascular disease. If true, this raises concerns about cost, adherence, and sustained effectiveness. We don’t yet know whether the drugs remain as effective after five or ten years of use.

Still, obesity specialists are describing these medications as a “game changer”. One reason is that before GLP-1s, the two options for extreme weight loss were (1) diet & lifestyle changes or (2) bariatric surgery. These drugs have created a middle ground, acting as a catalyst for patients’ weight loss journey, helping individuals stick to calorie deficits more easily.

Impacts to Healthcare

Shifts in Obesity Treatment and Healthcare Ecosystem

The rapid rise of GLP-1 medications is reshaping the obesity treatment landscape and creating ripple effects across the entire healthcare ecosystem. These drugs are fundamentally changing how patients, providers, and payers approach weight management.

From Lifestyle-Only to Pharmaceutical Intervention

For decades, the medical establishment’s answer to obesity was straightforward: eat less, move more. While sound in principle, this approach failed the majority of patients. Obesity is a chronic, complex disease influenced by genetics, hormones, environment, and psychology—not simply a lack of willpower. GLP-1s have validated what many clinicians suspected: pharmacological intervention can be necessary and effective for sustainable weight loss. The drugs don’t replace lifestyle changes but make them achievable for patients who previously struggled despite their best efforts.

Impact on Bariatric Surgery

Perhaps the most immediate shift has been in bariatric surgery rates. Privately insured adults saw an 8.7% decrease in bariatric procedures between H2 2022 and H2 2023, coinciding with a 105.7% jump in GLP-1 use. For many patients, GLP-1s now represent a less invasive “middle option” between lifestyle modification alone and surgical intervention. Bariatric surgery carries surgical risks, requires significant recovery time, and involves permanent anatomical changes. GLP-1s, by contrast, are injectable medications that patients can start (and theoretically stop) more easily. This has led some patients who might have considered surgery to opt for medication first.

However, bariatric surgery isn’t disappearing. It still achieves greater average weight loss (25-30% body weight vs. 15-20% for GLP-1s) and may be preferable for patients with severe obesity or those who don’t respond to medications. Some surgeons are now exploring combination approaches, using GLP-1s before surgery to reduce surgical risk, or after surgery to maintain long-term weight loss.

Healthcare System Capacity and Economics

The explosion in demand for GLP-1 is straining healthcare delivery systems in multiple ways. Primary care physicians and endocrinologists are fielding unprecedented volumes of patient inquiries about these medications. Many providers lack specialized training in obesity medicine and struggle to counsel patients on realistic expectations, side effect management, and the lifestyle changes that should accompany medication.

Insurance coverage remains a significant bottleneck. While most plans cover GLP-1s for type 2 diabetes, coverage for weight loss is inconsistent. These medications cost $900-$1,400 per month without insurance. Many commercial plans now cover them (especially after the cardiovascular approvals), but public programs lag—Medicare explicitly excludes weight-loss drugs, and Medicaid coverage varies by state. This creates a two-tier system where wealthier patients can afford out-of-pocket treatment while others cannot access the drugs at all.

The cost burden on payers is substantial. If even 10% of the U.S. adult population (roughly 26 million people) took a GLP-1 at $1,000/month, the annual drug cost would exceed $250 billion. To put that in perspective, the CMS national health accounts measure for retail prescription drugs totaled $449.7 billion in 2023 (which includes GLP-1s). Insurers and employers are wrestling with how to manage this financial pressure while meeting patient demand.

Broader Public Health Implications

From a population health perspective, GLP-1s represent both promise and concern. On one hand, if these drugs can meaningfully reduce obesity rates, the downstream benefits could be enormous: fewer cases of type 2 diabetes, heart disease, stroke, certain cancers, and joint problems. The societal costs of obesity in the U.S. are estimated at $173 billion annually in direct medical costs alone, not counting lost productivity. Even modest reductions in obesity prevalence could yield significant savings and improved quality of life.

On the other hand, the medicalization of weight loss raises questions. Are we addressing root causes—food environments, socioeconomic disparities, built environments that discourage physical activity—or are we medically managing the symptoms of a broken food system? Some public health experts worry that GLP-1s could become a band-aid for systemic issues, diverting attention and resources from upstream interventions that could prevent obesity in the first place.

There’s also the equity dimension. If access to GLP-1s remains limited to those with good insurance or high incomes, the drugs could widen health disparities rather than narrow them. Communities with the highest obesity rates—often lower-income and minority populations—may be least able to access these medications under current coverage and pricing structures.

Weight Management Going Forward

We’re at the beginning. Companies like Novo Nordisk and Eli Lilly have created a new world of weight loss/weight management, with implications for lifestyle changes, the healthcare system, and chronic disease management.

One of the most interesting aspects of the GLP-1 movement is not even how it’s impacting the medical ecosystem, but rather the various businesses being built around what it’s unlocking. Companies like Noom and Ro seized the opportunity to sell directly to consumers and now continue to offer micro-doses as a lifestyle change.

There is a seismic shift in consumer behavior. The demand for these drugs is so high that some consumers are buying the ingredients themselves from overseas and trying to make their own GLP-1 drugs at home. Their insurance will not cover the medication, and they cannot afford the $1000 price tag, but this at-home DIY approach is dangerous.

In the following piece, I’ll dig deeper into how consumer behavior is shifting, the ecosystem impacts outside of pharmaceuticals and healthcare, and the opportunities GLP-1s are enabling. If there’s one thing for sure, the way that we have managed the obesity crisis in America will change going forward, and that is something to be cautiously optimistic about.

This quarter, I’m taking a class called Business Exemplars: Finding Religious and Spiritual Meaning at Work. Each week, a leader joins us who has woven religious or spiritual elements into their work. We’ve heard from Joel Peterson and Akhil Gupta. This piece explores my takeaways from our conversation with Jeff Weiner, the former CEO of LinkedIn.

Our class with Jeff centered on Managing with Compassion and explored Buddhism’s role in today’s workplace. We discussed Michael Carroll’s “35 Practical Buddhist Principles for Discovering Clarity and Balance in the Midst of Work’s Chaos.” In the book, Carroll describes leaving the ‘traditional’ world to attend a Buddhist seminary led by a renowned Tibetan meditation master, Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche. At the retreat’s end, Carroll told Rinpoche he was ready to abandon the material world and dedicate his life to monastic practice. Rinpoche’s response? “Go back and get a job.” Carroll explains this wasn’t a rejection of Buddhist principles—it was an invitation to practice them amid the chaos of “normal” life. I love that idea. In every life, we have the chance to practice mindfulness, devotion, and service.

There were four key takeaways from the conversation with Jeff in class. They are:

• Compassion = Active Empathy

• Self-Reflection as a launchpad for growth

• Seeing Compassion as value creative

• Understanding the Hierarchy of Compassion

Compassion = Active Empathy

Jeff’s framing of compassion as active empathy shifted how I think about leadership. Empathy—understanding another’s perspective—isn’t enough on its own. Compassion requires acting on that understanding. Two examples brought this home for me.

First, a PBS Frontline documentary titled “A Class Divided.” After MLK’s assassination, third-grade teacher Jane Elliott divided her all-white Iowa classroom by eye color. On day one, she gave blue-eyed students first-class treatment while marginalizing brown-eyed students. On day two, she reversed the roles. Years later, nearly every student had become a civil rights advocate.

Second, Jeff introduced the boulder analogy (which resonated with something my coach shared about being stuck in quicksand). The analogy shows how empathy can trap me in inaction, while compassion frees me to help. Here’s how it goes: I’m walking down a trail and see someone with a boulder on their chest. Empathy means feeling their exact pain—trapped, unable to breathe, desperate. If I stay in that empathy, nothing happens, and we both suffer. Compassion means recognizing their situation, empathizing with their pain, and then acting to move the boulder. This distinction matters because empathy and compassion are often confused.

The first story showed that compassion can be taught. The second clarified the importance of acting on it.

Self-Reflection as a launchpad for growth

Jeff shared a story about two relationships at LinkedIn—one with his supervisor and one with a direct report. He noticed his superior was extremely short with a team member and gave that feedback. In doing so, Jeff realized he was treating his own subordinate the same way. Something in the relationship triggered him, and he needed to understand why and choose how to respond. This reflection struck me deeply: When I feel negative emotions or internal conflict toward someone, it often signals unresolved issues within myself rather than problems with them. This perspective shift transforms how I approach conflict.

Self-reflection—understanding what drives my emotional reactions to people or situations—helps me grow as a friend, leader, and human. Here’s a practical application: change how leaders evaluate their teams. Jeff noted that at LinkedIn, people weren’t just assessed on what they accomplished, but also on how they accomplished it. By giving equal weight to both dimensions, we honor compassionate leadership alongside results. This performance evaluation method encourages people to consider how they engage with others interpersonally while working toward their goals.

Compassion as Value Creation.

The discussion also explored the practical side of compassion. Compassion isn’t just emotionally fulfilling—it drives tangible results. While the class focused on business outcomes, this principle applies to any situation involving people working toward a shared goal. When I invest in others’ success, I invest in my own growth. Managing with compassion leads to better decisions and helps me avoid unintended harm.

Let me break this down. Managing compassionately means first understanding how a decision might affect those it impacts—employees, stakeholders, customers, the planet, or other groups. Try to see the world through their eyes before acting. Then make choices that avoid unforeseen negative consequences. Two limitations here: (1) I’m assuming I understand how others will be affected, and (2) I’m assuming I can always choose the compassionate path over the one with the most significant overall impact (utilitarianism). These are valid concerns. This mindset shift isn’t a perfect solution—it’s a framework to help minimize harm.

We can reframe the false choice between “soft skills” and business results. Compassion becomes a strategic advantage that strengthens leadership and collaboration.

Understanding the Hierarchy of Compassion

The final framework presented compassion as a hierarchical practice: first for yourself, then for those you value most, and finally for others. This ordering resonated deeply with me. If I neglect self-compassion, can I authentically show up for others? Perhaps briefly, but not sustainably. Like the airline safety demonstration that reminds us to secure our own oxygen masks first, I must fill my own compassion cup before I can effectively serve others. I want to carry this principle forward in how I approach my personal well-being and professional responsibilities. The best leaders I’ve worked with exemplified this through their actions and words. It’s often easier to flip the script and be more compassionate toward others than toward ourselves. That’s something I hope to work on—showing myself the same level of compassion I extend to others.

The conversation with Jeff Weiner reinforced that compassion isn’t a soft skill—it’s a strategic practice that transforms how we lead, connect, and grow. By reframing compassion as active empathy, practicing self-reflection, recognizing its value-creating potential, and honoring its hierarchy, we can show up more authentically in every aspect of our lives.

The Origin

We’re facing a crisis of misinformation and misdirection. The Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) movement emerged in the mid-2020s as a populist health crusade. In 2025, its influence skyrocketed. The election of Trump and the appointment of RFK Jr. as Secretary of HHS gave the campaign significant momentum. Soon after, high-profile figures and influencers seized the opportunity to become the face of MAHA. Among the most prominent were Calley and Casey Means. While they were already well-known within their circles—Casey founded one of the most successful companies in the metabolic health space (Levels)—the MAHA movement propelled them to stardom. They gained large followings, authored bestselling books, and appeared across media. This was further solidified when Trump appointed Casey as US Surgeon General.

The figureheads were one piece of the movement’s origin. A grassroots wave collided with this narrative, merging in 2025. MAHA moms became a decentralized army of wellness influencers. They formed coalitions from holistic health believers, supplement sellers, and raw food devotees, all rallying under the MAHA banner.

Why join? The fame. The money. The recognition and acceptance. Most influencers who embraced the MAHA movement were selling something—their own product or an affiliate marketing program. Influencers grew their followings overnight. The message and platform provided by MAHA were gasoline on a dangerous fire of health fear.

MAHA has Been Effective

By early 2025, the #MAHA hashtag had been used in over 224K TikTok Videos, translating to hundreds of millions of views.

The messaging was extremely on-trend. It capitalized on the mission of “people/individuals taking control of their health”. This messaging is something I agree with. However, the MAHA movement introduced and stoked the kindling of fear and suspicion of “modern” medicine that arose alongside the COVID pandemic. Distrust has built towards the CDC, the medical system, and healthcare professionals. In many ways, MAHA became a bipartisan selling point. It aligned the values of spiritual/left-leaning progressives and conservative Christians using the shared skepticism of modern science and Big Pharma.

Not only was the messaging on-trend, but it was also highly fear-based. Fear attacks our subconscious mind, our fight-or-flight response. This has been widely known and used by media outlets to capture our attention. Humans show a robust “negativity bias”: we attend to, learn from, and act on negative information more than positive, making fear content unusually sticky in memory and attention. The defining feature of MAHA is its core messaging rooted in fear and distrust of our traditional healthcare institutions. It focused on portraying the conventional medical system (doctors, hospitals, public health agencies, pharma) as not just flawed but actively harmful to the public.

There are a few key themes that run through their messaging:

Health systems profit from keeping you sick:

Casey Means was quoted saying: “Every institution that impacts your health makes more money when you are sick and less when you are healthy — from hospitals to pharma to medical schools, and even insurance companies”. There is the truth of this statement, and there is the intention behind it. First, the incentive structure of the US healthcare system is far from perfect. It is, for most occasions, set up to focus predominantly on reactive care, and the majority of providers are compensated not on outcomes, but on services rendered. However, this statement is meant to stoke fear and mistrust. While the incentives are misaligned, this doesn’t mean the industry is ACTIVELY trying to make people sick. A more positive, action-forward statement would be: “There are opportunities for individuals to proactively inform themselves of all potential options available to live healthier lives, working alongside medical professionals to evaluate the best options.”

At the end of the day, if we cannot trust and communicate with the experts of our health, how can we make fully informed decisions

Modern Medicines and Vaccines are Dangerous

Vaccines have taken a hit. RFK Jr. has a long history of repeating the debunked claim that common childhood vaccines cause autism. Vaccines have become a scapegoat for everything from autoimmune diseases to infertility, without any scientific evidence. Kennedy, who has long been perceived as a vaccine skeptic, narrowly achieved confirmation as Health Secretary by promising he would do nothing “that makes it difficult or discourages people from taking vaccines.” Since confirmation, he’s deconstructed the CDC’s vaccine recommendation panel, canceled vaccine research, and made moves to limit access to COVID-19 vaccines. It is a laughable attempt at his initial promise. And… It’s working. There have been resurgences of diseases once eradicated by vaccines. In July of 2025, there were the most cases of measles, more than all of 2019, which dealt with its own outbreak in under-immunized, close-knit communities.

Healthcare Authorities are Corrupt and Lying

If COVID put the chink in the armor of health institutions’ credibility, the MAHA movement is currently trying to finish the job. Was COVID handled perfectly? Of course not, but how can perfection (meaning no mistakes) be the expectation with a once-in-a-century (millennia?) pandemic? People make mistakes; they moved fast and had to recall some of their earlier comments. What is inconceivable to me is how members and believers of MAHA are holding experts to such a high standard, when individuals like Trump will blatantly lie as long as it pushes forward the agenda.

The entire purpose of the scientific method is to hypothesize, test, learn, and improve. However, the MAHA movement has convinced thousands of Americans that it has the answer to solve complicated health problems, and the Healthcare authorities are the ones who are lying and corrupt. Any expert critique of MAHA’s claims is spun as part of censorship or “pharma-funded” cover-up. When 15,000 physicians signed a letter urging the Senate to reject RFK Jr.’s appointment as HHS secretary, MAHA supporters dismissed it as an elitist attack on their movement.

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MAHA is a Masterclass in Execution

MAHA didn’t succeed by accident—it was a masterclass in modern movement-building, blending savvy marketing, cultural momentum, and economic incentives into a powerful force.

Social Media and the Hero’s Journey

The movement leveraged social media with precision. MAHA content flooded TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube, framing itself as a heroic underdog story: ordinary people fighting against a corrupt system. This “us against the system” narrative is incredibly compelling—it taps into a deep human desire to be part of something meaningful, to stand up against injustice.

The content itself was highly relatable. Instead of dry scientific papers or institutional messaging, MAHA influencers shared personal stories. A mom talking about how she “cured” her child’s eczema by removing seed oils. A fitness influencer explaining how he “took back control” of his health by rejecting his doctor’s advice. These stories resonated with the average health-conscious person scrolling social media because they felt authentic, personal, and actionable.

Hijacking Alternative Wellness Communities

MAHA didn’t start from scratch—it strategically tapped into existing alternative health subcultures: yoga communities, holistic moms’ groups, nutritional “biohacking” circles, and raw food devotees. These groups already harbored skepticism toward conventional medicine and Big Pharma, making them fertile ground for MAHA’s message.

The language of “natural health” and “food as medicine” gave these communities a unifying platform. Suddenly, disparate wellness trends had a shared banner to rally under. This created a network effect: as more groups joined, the movement gained legitimacy and reach.

Celebrity endorsements amplified the message further. When figures like Aaron Rodgers questioned vaccines and promoted natural immunity, it gave MAHA cultural cachet beyond wellness circles. These endorsements signaled that MAHA wasn’t just for “crunchy moms”—it was for anyone who valued freedom and self-determination.

The MAHAconomy: When Ideas Drive Dollars

As MAHA gained followers, it didn’t just change minds—it changed markets. Consumer behavior shifted dramatically as people voted with their wallets. Certified “seed oil–free” foods saw sales grow 216% from 2024 to 2025. Raw milk, despite documented safety concerns, experienced an ~18% sales spike in 2024. When RFK Jr. endorsed the Yuka app (which scans food products for “toxins”), it rocketed to the top of the app store.

This created a dangerous flywheel effect. Influencers promoted these sales figures as “proof” that MAHA was right. This drove more people to buy these products, generating impressive statistics that provided influencers with more material to promote. And throughout this cycle, those same influencers were making money: through affiliate links, sponsored content, or their own product lines.

Even large food companies responded. Major brands began reformulating products to remove red dyes, replace corn syrup with real sugar, and eliminate seed oils. On the surface, this seems positive. But here’s the caveat: these changes will barely move the needle on the actual health epidemic facing America. As John Oliver brilliantly outlined in a Last Week Tonight episode, focusing on food dyes and seed oils is like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic while ignoring the massive iceberg of chronic disease driven by ultra-processed foods, sedentary lifestyles, and lack of access to quality healthcare.

But it worked. MAHA successfully turned health anxiety into a booming industry, all while positioning itself as the antidote to corporate greed.

The Impending Public Health Risks

While skepticism can be healthy in moderation, and working to be more self-informed is essential, the MAHA movement is doing more harm than good. The widespread rejection of medical involvement is particularly worrisome. Here are a few key risks (by no means a comprehensive list):

• Resurgence of preventable diseases. As mentioned above, under-vaccinated communities face increased risk of infection—and therefore health complications or death.

• Delayed or forgone medical care. The NYT video showcases people opting out of chemotherapy after being influenced by MAHA’s message. Many likely would have survived their cancer with early medical intervention. MAHA has strained doctor-patient relationships, with patients refusing routine procedures. This prevents early detection of life-threatening diseases.

• Exacerbation of health inequities. Many MAHA proponents can afford concierge wellness services or alternative medicines. But if public health programs are undermined, marginalized groups will suffer first. MAHA’s emphasis on individual responsibility can shade into victim-blaming (”you didn’t eat clean enough, so you got diabetes”) while downplaying systemic factors.

Consider another epidemic or pandemic. How would we get the message out to the entire population? Would people trust it? What about federal funding for lower-income groups? Humans are incredibly adaptable to new norms. Five years ago, the world shut down. How is it that today we’re less prepared to handle the same situation again? (I’m not talking about advancements in mRNA and medical discovery, but the role of the population and media.)

What the Right Narrative Is

We must shift from rejecting healthcare to empowering individual health. The impulse behind many MAHA followers isn’t inherently bad—it usually comes from a good place: “I want to take charge of my own health.” However, issues arise when the messaging rejects scientific thought, medical discovery, proven treatments, and expert guidance. A more balanced approach examines how personal health agencies can work alongside medical professionals and institutions. Track your metrics with a Whoop or Oura, then discuss with your doctor why your REM sleep has been disturbed for three weeks. Take a microbiome test, then consult a registered dietitian about increasing your omega-3 or fiber intake.

As a consumer, look for two things in health messaging:

1. Inclusive of expert guidance. Does the company, influencer, or movement encourage and surface expert information?

2. Focus on accurate information and health literacy. Does the individual or service provide tools to discern credible health information instead of selling a silver bullet (or snake oil)?

Make America Healthy Again. Yes! Of course! What a great slogan—and what a terrible way of going about it. Americans are tired of being sick and frustrated by the misaligned incentives of the healthcare industry. Much needs to be done, and we have an opportunity to achieve this given the significant innovations in consumer wellness and healthcare. But this isn’t the way. Achieving a societal shift must be guided by rigorous science and in partnership with public institutions, not despite them.

As I’ve begun my second year of my MBA, I wanted to mention that I’ll be varying my posts in the future. While some will remain focused on wellness (which requires more research), others will explore life, entrepreneurship, and lessons from my Stanford MBA program. My goal remains consistent: to share valuable insights on living a holistic, healthy life.

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Today I’m discussing coaching—its importance and some tactics I’m learning through Stanford’s Arbuckle Leadership Fellows Program. This highly competitive program (with less than 50% acceptance rate) was a key reason I applied to the GSB. It provides the opportunity to work with first-year MBA students in both team and individual settings, teaching fellows how to lead leaders.

Why does coaching matter? Why develop coaching skills? I believe developing coaching abilities, receiving coaching, and coaching others are among the most impactful things I can do throughout my life and career. Looking back, I wouldn’t be where I am today without the mentors, coaches, and guides who have helped me along the way.

One fundamental principle we’re learning is that every person is naturally creative, resourceful, and whole. People are capable and often already possess answers to their questions. This distinguishes coaches from advisors: while advisors provide direction and information, coaches help individuals discover their own answers through thoughtful questions, feedback, and clarification of goals and commitments.

During these first weeks in the program, I’ve discovered that great coaching is an art—not an innate talent, but a skill that can be developed.

I’ll explore some key skills below and share more as the program progresses, including active listening, recognizing non-verbal cues, and guiding conversations effectively from goals through reality, options, and ultimately to commitment.

To highlight the importance of coaching, an HBS study found that leaders who coach rather than direct—asking questions instead of giving orders and enabling employee development—create more energy, commitment, and innovation within their organizations.

What Coaching Looks Like

To be an effective coach is to serve the coachee with whom I’m working. One interesting perspective shift I’ve had recently is that coaching is a role I can choose to step into—it’s not something that’s on 24/7, but rather one of many tools in my toolbox that can be used when appropriate.

Sometimes a friend needs a friend, sometimes they need advice, and sometimes they need an open ear and a closed mouth. And sometimes they need a coach. Stepping into that coaching role means serving that individual, setting aside judgment, personal views, biases, and opinions to create a psychologically safe space. This helps expand their options and guides them in finding the answers they already have within themselves.

A formula was shared in class that suggests change can only occur when dissatisfaction, vision, first steps, and perceived support collectively outweigh an individual’s resistance to change. Human beings naturally resist change—whether it’s a change in strategy, behavior, lifestyle, or location.

Most critical coaching happens when change is imminent: “Should I start doing X instead of Y?” “Should we launch this product?” “What should I do in my career?” “How should I approach relationships?” These questions involve shifting from the current state to something new—that’s growth.

To break each down:

• Dissatisfaction is an unrest or a gap between where one currently is and where one wants to be.

• Vision is being able to see with clarity where one wants to go.

• First steps are tactical actions one can take

• Perceived support is the belief that one has the resources and the ability to achieve that vision

As a coach working with a coachee, part of my role is to explore the emotions and thoughts underlying their dissatisfaction—to uncover the root cause of why they want to make a change. From this fundamental understanding, we look toward their desired future, outline steps to get there, and build a support network to ensure they remain committed to the work.

Ways to Effectively Coach

Tactically, I’ve gained three key insights from the leadership fellows course over the past two weeks:

1. The art of listening and its three distinct levels

2. The power of asking effective questions

3. The importance of managing my own emotions and biases

Listening

Let’s start with listening. Before diving into the three levels, it’s essential to understand active listening itself. Active listening means fully engaging in conversation—not thinking about how the speaker’s words affect me, planning my response, or letting my mind wander to my next meal while nodding automatically. It’s about being completely present with the other person.

Level one listening is “listening to respond.” This is where I mentally prepare my following comment: “They mentioned visiting that country—I’ve been there too!” or “I’ve dealt with that same challenge—let me share my experience.” There’s no ill intent here; it usually stems from a genuine desire to connect. “I’ve experienced that too! Let’s bond over it.” However, this level focuses more on the listener than the speaker, making it ineffective for coaching.

Level two is “listening to understand.” Here, I’m focused on the speaker rather than crafting the perfect response. I’m committed to grasping the essence of what they’re sharing. If they mention feeling anxious about a recent trip or career decision, level two listening involves exploring why that emotion exists rather than inserting myself into their experience. There’s a helpful analogy comparing this to a fencing match or dance—there’s a natural flow to the conversation. If I pause to calculate my next move or question, I interrupt this flow. Instead, I trust the process and let go of control, knowing that my coaching skills will help the right question emerge naturally at the right time.

Level three listening builds on this by incorporating intuition and accessing all available information in the moment. This requires more experience, and even seasoned coaches don’t maintain level three listening constantly—they typically move between levels two and three. It might manifest as a gut feeling saying, “Dig deeper into what they just mentioned,” or sensing, “There’s something underlying that hasn’t been voiced yet.” Developing level three listening is a primary goal for me in this fellows program, as I want to fine-tune my intuition to serve others better.

Curiosity

Curiosity represents a mindset shift in coaching conversations. While information gathering focuses on the listener collecting data to understand a situation, curiosity asks questions that help the other person understand themselves. It’s a collaborative exploration, pulling threads to delve deeper into the topic being discussed.

There are effective ways to ask questions in coaching. While there’s no single “right” question, certain types facilitate better coaching outcomes. These questions fall into two main categories:

1. Limiting Questions vs. Enabling Questions

2. Divergent Questions vs. Convergent Questions

Limiting questions hinder exploration and lead to premature conclusions. They’re often leading or disguised statements. Another example is questions that end with yes/no answers. In contrast, enabling questions open exploration. They’re concise, direct, and promote discovery. These questions help coachees find meaning while encouraging reflection and deeper thinking.

Both divergent and convergent questions serve valuable purposes at different stages of coaching. Divergent questions expand possibilities (”What would it look like to...?” “What if...?” “How would it feel to...?”). Convergent questions narrow focus and create direction (”What’s most important right now?” “What is one action you can take?” “Of these options, which energizes you most?”). The coach must decide whether to broaden exploration or focus attention based on the conversation’s needs. This follows a natural conversational arc that we’re learning to navigate.

GROW Model

What is the purpose of a coaching session? While purposes vary, there’s no single correct approach—it changes with each session. Ideally, sessions end with significant discovery, clarity, options, and commitments to experiments for the coming weeks.

A helpful framework we learned is the GROW model, which structures coaching sessions as follows:

1. Goals are established first (What does the coachee want to get out of the session? What’s top of mind right now?)

2. Reality involves establishing the current situation (What do they believe to be true? What mental obstacles might they be facing? What reality are they experiencing?)

3. Options focus on expanding possibilities. Rather than simply advising, as a coach I can share what has worked for me while asking divergent questions that help coachees explore options they hadn’t considered

4. Will represents commitment (How do you establish the right commitment for the coachee going forward?)

Wrapping…

I found this article, “Insights from a Trillion Dollar Coach,” where Bill Campbell discusses: “Are you coachable... includes honesty and humility, the willingness to persevere and work hard, and a constant openness to learning.”

This perfectly captures why I wanted to participate in the coaching program. I not only develop the skills I’ve discussed above, but I also receive coaching throughout the process. I’m coached by my peers, by leadership coaches, and even indirectly by the squad I oversee through their feedback. Through this learning journey, I hope to continue developing myself as a leader, a coach, and an individual, while giving back to the incoming class and to any individuals who are looking for a coach themselves.

The Essentials of Strategic Communication

In my first quarter at business school, I’m taking “Essentials of Strategic Communications” with Matt Abrahams. During our first session, we discussed a common saying: “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.” Our instructors expanded this to: “It’s not only who you know, it’s what people know about you,” highlighting how reputation shapes others’ perceptions of us. Communication serves as the channel through which we engage with others. This course focuses on becoming more effective communicators to deliver messages with clarity, inspiration, and connection.

A key insight from class was that “Confidence equals competence.” This doesn’t mean confidence automatically makes you competent; rather, appearing confident is essential for your audience to perceive you as qualified. When speakers show nervousness or anxiety, audiences often perceive them as less competent or trustworthy than they actually are.

Our first assignment involved understanding different sources of anxiety and creating a personal anxiety management plan to proactively handle nervousness during presentations, allowing us to appear more confident and therefore more competent.

Understanding Anxiety

We explored five theories explaining speaking anxiety:

1. Behavioral theory suggests managing anxiety by developing speaking skills through practices such as improvisation, controlled breathing, or wearing comfortable clothing during presentations.

2. Learning theory: Proposes that conditioning teaches us to fear public speaking. Visualization techniques can help counter this conditioning.

3. Biological theory identifies two primary causes of anxiety:

   1. The surge of neurotransmitters and hormones that intensify anxiety reactions

   2. Excessive activation of our fear response when speaking publicly, which one can manage through physical grounding techniques

4. Cognitive theory encompasses four aspects: framing, negative self-talk, repeated negative attributions, and irrational thinking. One can address these through reframing, affirmations, and mindfulness practices.

5. Evolutionary theory: Suggests anxiety stems from concerns about consequences and social status within our group hierarchy.

After learning these theories, we developed personal anxiety management plans. I found this exercise extremely valuable and would like to share my solution below.

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Developing my SPIRIT Anxiety Management Plan

My anxiety primarily aligns with cognitive and evolutionary theories from “Speaking Up Without Freaking Out.” I worry about how others will perceive me and the judgments they might make based on my performance—and even more importantly, the judgments I place on myself.

My anxiety management plan centers on grounding myself in the knowledge that my essence is love and joy, and that speaking opportunities are gifts. For me, trusting in God and my spirit is fundamental—believing things will unfold as they should. At the same time, thorough preparation is crucial; equally important is enjoying the process and relinquishing control over the outcome and audience reactions.

S - Structure and Storytelling

I remember speeches best when following a clear narrative structure. Knowing the A-to-B-to-C-to-D progression gives me confidence because even if I lose my place, I can return to the story arc I want to share. This approach also makes information more accessible and engaging for audiences.

P - Pause, Breathe, Allow, Acknowledge (PBAA)

This technique, shared with me by my leadership coach, resonates deeply with me. It invites me to pause, breathe, and ground myself in the present moment and my physical sensations. I practice allowing thoughts to arise and acknowledging them without attaching energy or pressure—simply being present.

I - “I am” Affirmations.

After grounding, I use affirmations to remind myself that I belong in this space and am already enough regardless of how the presentation unfolds. Statements like “I am loving,” “I am abundant,” “I am grateful,” “I am devoted,” and “I am blessed to have this opportunity” connect me to the deeper purpose behind my presentation.

R - Reframing

I reframe speaking anxiety as evidence that I care deeply about my message. If I’m nervous about talking, it’s because the opportunity matters. This perspective transforms anxiety into a chance to step outside my comfort zone and share something meaningful.

I - Improvise and Iterate

Rather than memorizing exact wording, I prefer knowing my narrative structure and then improvising within it. I practice by setting a timer for my allotted speaking time and recording phrases I like. Through 5-10 iterations, I discover unexpected insights and build on my speech organically.

After finding language I like, I share it with trusted friends or use AI for feedback. Another 5-10 practice rounds follow. After approximately 20 repetitions over 1-2 weeks, I develop a comfortable familiarity with my content. This process isn’t about memorization, but rather about internalizing the flow and preferred phrasing while maintaining flexibility for in-the-moment inspiration.

T - Tongue Twisters

This playful practice helps alleviate my anxiety about stumbling over words, especially early in the morning or before I warm up. Tongue twisters help me loosen up vocally while making preparation fun. My favorites include:

• “The big black bug bled blue black blood.”

• “Sally sells seashells by the seashore.”

• “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”

These exercises prepare my speech muscles and remind me to enjoy the process of verbal communication.

Developing this personalized approach has been invaluable for addressing my speaking anxiety. I’m excited to implement these strategies in future speaking engagements, bringing my authentic spirit into each opportunity.

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The Evolution of the Vision

When summer began, the “conference” was a nascent thought in the back of my mind: “It’d be fun to host a conference at Stanford”. Half-baked. No edge. No legs to stand on. Then came the conversations, the learnings, the endless tweakings. The evolution from idea to possibility to potential reality. The question underscoring all other questions became: “How do I frame this so the person on the other side wants in?”

Throughout the summer, there were those “aha” moments that brought clarity to the vision. Moments that tweaked how I communicated the message. Moments that drove momentum and excitement. Moments that catalyzed and crystallized the progress.

• Recognizing this wasn’t novel (at first). In the first two weeks, I realized how many conferences existed in the wellness space, including just those at Stanford. One on true lifestyle behavior change from experts. One on the true science and medicine. One on experiential learning and demonstrations. How was mine going to be different?

• Identifying what I could offer that was unique. None of these conferences above are organized by students. Few of them looked at the intersection of industry and medicine. They focus on either the consumer (lifestyle change), or the science (deep medicial and clinical research). A gap slowly surfaced. An opportunity to bring more attention, discussion, and inspiration around the companies disrupting the health industry in the same way the travel and financial markets were disrupted. An opportunity to learn more about the consumerization of health, of the reallocation of autonomy back to the individual.

• Framing as a gap. Learning the above, I adjusted the focus and tone to articulate that we have an obligation at Stanford, the heart of academia, innovation, and entrepreneurship, to have a discussion with leaders and founders about the future of consumer-led care.

• Curating the day. I had multiple conversations with conference organizers who shared valuable advice like, "Don't just have panelists and speakers—think about how you want to curate the entire day." This insight led me to consider bringing in founders to showcase their exciting innovations and inviting experts who could paint a broader picture of industry trends, creating a more cohesive narrative throughout the event.

Through this learning process, my vision evolved from a simple "I want to host a consumer wellness conference at Stanford" to something much more defined: "I want to create a discussion by students, for students that inspires the next generation of multidisciplinary graduate students about what's possible in the innovative consumer health industry. This conference will be an opportunity to build relationships and learn how research-backed companies develop, market, and scale their products. Ultimately, it aims to inspire people to create the next wave of health-forward technological innovations."

I'm excited to bring this vision to reality. Something that only became clear through the execution process itself.

The Lessons Learned Along the Way

At first, I let my thoughts flow onto the page, trying to capture everything I could remember about my summer learning. I’m sure I missed some things, and they might come up later when needed. The key points are divided into Foundation-focused learnings and Execution-focused learnings.

Execution: Process & Momentum

Walking through Frame → Organize → Anticipate → Persist → Human core, and how those helped me bring the conference from an idea to something with real potential and excitement

Engineer the Win–Win

One-Liner: The art of negotiation is about understanding what my counterpart values in their life at this moment, and finding ways to incorporate that into what I’m offering.

On a drive with my brother down to LA, we listened to a podcast featuring Chris Voss, a former international terrorist negotiator, discussing his negotiation tactics. The key takeaway from the podcast is that every conversation is a negotiation - it's an opportunity to build a better relationship with the person on the other side. We tested each other on remembering the five tools that most resonated with us from the podcast. They were:

1. Mirroring

2. Labeling

3. Getting people to say no (Pavlovian response)

4. Identifying the win-wins

5. Practicing our FM radio voice (not even kidding)

This summer presented numerous opportunities to view conversations through a lens of mutual benefit for all parties involved. I began approaching each discussion with curious questions: "What do you want to achieve by participating and partnering at this conference?" “What excites you about speaking opportunities?” From there, I could understand what mattered to each person, allowing me to frame our collaboration in more effective and engaging ways.

It reminded me of what we learned in Organizational Behavior, where everything is laid out on the table to see what each person wants. The classic example is that two people need to use an orange. One person needs the rind for a cake, and the other needs the inside for juice. If they fail to communicate, and cut the orange in half to split it, both sides are worse off. By being transparent from the outset, the negotiation can lead to a win-win outcome. By discussing upfront, I gained a better understanding of each person’s needs and created a more favorable outcome for everyone. This summer offered a great chance to practice how to find that win-win.

Build a Strong System

One Liner: When juggling multiple workstreams at the same time, having a system and process in place to manage the chaos was essential to make compounding progress

Part of starting something new from scratch requires juggling a lot of different plates at the same time. For example, this conference required simultaneously

• Identifying and working with faculty sponsors (laying the logistical foundation)

• Navigating dates, location, venue, catering, cost, and budgeting (finalizing the logistics)

• Building out the vision and narrative (what’s the story, the pillars, the why)

• Understanding which companies would make good fits for different talk tracks (then finding C-suite contact information)

• Actually doing speaker outreach and having conversations with speakers (selling the dream)

• Identifying, reaching out, and selling to external sponsors (learning & selling the value proposition)

This was also on top of building a market map with weekly Substack posts, starting a podcast, and helping with another conference (more on that later). A lot happened over the summer. What helped me stay on top of everything was how I organized the information and my approach to following up. I set reminders on emails I sent out, and followed up with the recipient almost weekly. I realized that just because someone hasn't responded, it doesn't mean they're not interested. Everyone else is busy, and what seems like a top priority to me might be only a low priority for them. So, being persistent and showing my interest and dedication through consistency helped open many conversations with the right people, which ultimately brought the conference together more effectively.

Tactically: I used Notion to manage all my outreach, planning, and documentation, and Superhuman for emails, since it allowed me to set reminders, schedule follow-ups, and stay on top of my communications. Granola helped me handle action items and follow-ups from my conversations.

Choose Optimism, but have a Plan

One Liner: If I plan for things not to go as expected, I’ll be prepared when they don’t. By aiming for a high outcome, and incorporating contingencies into the planning process, I was able to breathe a bit more

I learned this valuable lesson after repeatedly hitting roadblocks when struggling against reality. During the first few weeks of conference planning, I naively believed everything would unfold exactly as I had envisioned. What the summer taught me instead was that things will happen as they're meant to—just rarely in the way I expected. Nothing is ever seamless or perfect, but I can choose grace throughout the process, find joy in the ups and downs, and appreciate the lessons learned along the way. I began planning for contingencies, preparing not just Plan A but also Plans B, C, and D. I created backup strategies and set self-imposed deadlines well ahead of schedule to avoid last-minute scrambling.

Another idea I’d include here is aiming for the moon to land among the stars, because I knew there could be unexpected events, costs, or challenges. I would always try to set very conservative or optimistic goals, so I’d have some cushion in case I couldn’t reach them. Examples would be:

• Much tighter deadlines for myself than the ones I agreed with for third parties

• Telling other people dates earlier than needed in order to get their answers early or at least on time, knowing they'd be delayed

• Setting higher bars for sponsorship funds I'm trying to raise, knowing that expenses will likely be higher than what I'm quoted

I'm hoping and trusting for the optimal scenario, but preparing for the realistic one.

Just Keep Swinging

One Liner: In the beginning, it’s going to take a lot of at-bats. The early game of building something is non-linear, where the first few wins will take exponentially longer and feel exponentially harder than gaining traction a few months later.

When I started planning the conference, it felt like a chicken-and-egg situation. I couldn't get a date without a faculty sponsor, but I also couldn't get a faculty sponsor without clarity on what the conference would be and who would attend. I couldn't secure speakers without other confirmed speakers or a keynote. I couldn't raise sponsorship funds without speakers, and I couldn't get speakers without a date. The cycle never ends.

Many of my early conversations were met with resistance or outright “No”. However, once I had a hint of leverage, like when the first speakers agreed, once we confirmed the faculty sponsor (which happened on the 10th call, when I was exhausted and ready to give up), progress became easier. Still, it took hours of emails and phone calls to move forward by a small step.

Once we started to build leverage with our first few speakers, excitement and interest naturally grew. The same pattern occurred with sponsors—after securing the first one, approaching others became much easier because we could demonstrate existing interest. After building out the lineup, I began receiving inbound requests from people who wanted to speak and participate. It was fascinating to watch this shift in momentum.

The feeling evolved from "I have to be the vanguard championing this" to "This is a really cool event I don't want to miss out on."

So the thing I learned from there is that at the beginning, it's never harder. I think this is an Alex Hormozi quote or idea: “It's never harder than it is at the beginning.” I just kept reminding myself that once I could get the ball rolling, it would never be as hard as the beginning had been.

AI cannot replace connection

One Liner: AI sped up the busywork, but the actual value of the summer came from the calls, eye contact, and listening to what people value. The actual value was the friendships and relationships I built along the way.

I tested AI throughout a lot of this process. I used AI to vibe code my website. I used AI to help me with lead sourcing, such as finding the right contact at different service providers or health companies. I used AI to help me prep emails and to research individuals. I used AI to brainstorm the conference pillars and different talk tracks. I used AI to identify the right companies to invite and include in the conference. I used AI to teach myself about some of the information I would be speaking on.

None of that mattered when I got in front of a speaker that I really wanted to have come. None of that got me in front of my friends, who were inspired to assist me in the planning process. None of the AI actually executed tasks all the way through. Maybe some people are using AI to perform tasks all the way through, but if there's one major thing I'm taking away from this, it's that AI is never replacing relationship building. If it does, why? Why are we using technology to talk to technology? We cannot replicate the authenticity of a laugh, the sparkle in an eye when we bond with another human being over shared interests and passion areas.

So, where AI may replace the monotonous drudgery of email sending or of helping with ideation or increasing the speed of planning, it is not going to replace getting on the phone with another individual and truly listening, actively listening to what that person values in order to come to that win-win scenario we talked about in negotiating. I don't see that ever going away.

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This is the first of two posts on lessons learned from this summer

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A Summer Started in Purgatory

I started this summer feeling a bit lost. Inspired to be an entrepreneur but struggling to pinpoint the problem I am best suited to solve. Facing 12 weeks with no real responsibilities outside of my own desire to create something of value or grow as a person. I decided not to pursue an internship (after not being selected for an entrepreneurial program, but more on that in another piece). Instead of joining another early-stage company, a VC fund, or a large wellness company, I wanted to bet on myself. What that actually looked like, I wasn’t sure.

The first two weeks were spent reading, writing, and attending conferences. In the back of my mind, I had a nagging thought. It stemmed from knowing I wanted to reach out and learn from executives of successful companies or startups, and I was contemplating unique value propositions I could offer them. Podcast? Maybe. Connect them with PearVC? They probably don’t need that. Mentor an eager student? That’s more of an ask than a value offer.

Then came the idea: host a conference on campus. Stanford is the hub of academia, innovation, and entrepreneurship. I can feel it as I walk through the campus: the energy, ideas, and creativity stirring. Disruption. It’s a blessing I am grateful for every time I step onto Town Square, grateful to be part of this community. As I enter my second and final year, I ask myself, “How can I bring more people to this campus to discuss a topic I see as extremely important yet under-discussed?”

When the idea first came to mind, I didn’t think it would be that complicated. I knew conferences required a lot of work, but I believed I could handle it. By my third conversation with Stanford faculty, I began to see there were underlying bureaucratic hurdles and red tape I never expected. By my twelfth conversation, while trying to find a faculty sponsor, I started to think I was crazy for attempting to organize a conference. It felt like there were no funds, no support, and no desire to bring the conversation to campus.

Each day, each conversation brought a new twist and complication to the process. Nonetheless, each new roadblock presented an opportunity to find creative solutions and a chance for me to practice my gratitude, intention, and trust in God that everything would work out exactly as it is meant to.

So… here we are, wrapping up week twelve. I have one more week before school starts. We have secured CEOs, VPs, and investors from the most prominent consumer wellness companies in the world. We have a faculty sponsor, a date, and a venue. We have the mission, vision, and narrative of the conference. Just this week, we secured our first sponsor on our way to funding the entire conference. The accomplishments on paper feel surreal. The lessons are something I’ll carry with me forever. In that spirit, I wanted to write some of them down in reflection. I hope they are helpful to anyone else building something others said would be impossible or foolish.

The Lessons Learned Along the Way

At first, I let my thoughts flow onto the page, trying to capture everything I could remember about my summer learnings. I’m sure I missed some things, and they might come up later when needed. The key points are divided into Foundation-focused learnings and Execution-focused learnings.

Foundation: The People & Principles

Walking through Why → What → How → Who → Amplify, and how those played into the early days of kicking off the process.

Choose Intention Over Ego

One-liner: Set an intention to be of service, loving, and a steward, and use that to govern and drive the process.

I'm very blessed to work with a coach who keeps me honest and focused on what's essential in this life. One of the things we always talk about is to find ways to be of service, to bring value forward into the world instead of simply taking. For me, it was so easy to fall victim to the egotistical aspects that come with a conference: the motivation of being on stage, the recognition that comes from the outcome. Neither are those intentions loving nor of service.

A significant portion of my personal work on this project has been to ensure that the intention I’m bringing into this conference is to truly create a community, to initiate a meaningful conversation and discussion at Stanford, and to have a lot of fun with the people I'm working with. But every single day, I catch my ego romanticizing and fantasizing about the more earthly reasons of hosting a conference. Some of that is helpful in the sense that I can use the ego as fuel to drive action: sending out emails, scheduling calls, and making the commitments a reality. But if there's one thing I've learned, I want to keep top of mind for myself, both with this conference and with any endeavor in life, is setting the intention to be of service and to act as a steward of connection and relationship building. My goal is not to take any credit, but instead to give all credit back to God. That’s the source, anyway. This approach ensures my intention comes from a place of love rather than pride or ego.

Clarity Begets Conviction

One-Liner: If the message and vision are fuzzy to me, they will be indiscernible fog to them

Over the past three months, I've devoted significant effort to refining and iterating on how I communicate the conference's essence. Customizing my approach for various audiences, whether I'm pitching to potential sponsors, engaging with speakers, or workshopping ideas with mentors.

People are drawn to narratives, so I focused on defining our conference's story: "What message do we want to convey? Why does it matter? Why now? What's currently lacking? Who are we targeting?" When sponsors challenged me with "There are already plenty of conferences out there, why create another one?" I had to consider what would set ours apart deeply. The answer became clear: "It's student-led, by students, for students."

Yes, we're creating opportunities for networking and relationship building with industry leaders. But it's also about inspiring the next generation of engineers, scientists, and business leaders to imagine: "What might health look like in the future?" The clearer my message became, the more effectively I engaged people in conversation, ultimately gaining their support and excitement for the conference.

Adopt a Student Mindset

One-Liner: Approach each conversation with humility and an eagerness to learn

Many people told me when I started my MBA that there is power in being a student again. Over the summer, that has been true and taken on two meanings:

1. The actual title of “student”. People are more willing to answer the phone and talk to a student who is simply trying to learn. This applies to all students: undergraduate, graduate, or otherwise. When I wasn’t perceived as a competitive threat and are genuinely reaching out to learn about an industry, people were far more likely to engage with me. Though these initial interactions may be brief, the relationships they can spark are incredibly powerful in the long run.

2. The mindset of embracing studenthood in every conversation. This summer, I've deliberately focused on asking questions and learning from others, choosing ignorance of assumed answers. While sometimes challenging, this approach consistently leads conversations to unexpected places. People often share remarkable insights or connect me with new contacts simply because of a thoughtful question or the genuine curiosity I brought to our interaction.

Being a student, both in title and in mindset, has taken me very far in many conversations and planning efforts.

Relationships are an Incalculable Compounding Force

One-Liner: By prioritizing genuine connection without agenda, collaboration and friendship follow, unlocking unexpected doors

When pursuing an MBA, one key motivation was the opportunity to meet 400 new classmates, as well as 800 more in adjacent classes, and the GSB faculty. I knew these connections would lead to meaningful conversations and relationships. These interactions could spark seemingly random encounters with the potential to shape my future in unexpected ways.

Would a conversation with a professor spark a new business idea? Could a coffee chat evolve into a co-founding partnership? Might a team project become a lifelong friendship? This universe of infinite possibilities made me eager to attend the GSB.

What surprised me was how having time and freedom over the summer enabled me to connect with thought leaders, executives, and fellow founders, allowing me to form genuine bonds. Whether these relationships develop beyond friendship or collaboration isn't the point. The power lies in building a community of people I'm excited to connect with now and for decades to come, something I hope to continue doing for a long time.

Through countless conversations, I discovered "champions": people who genuinely support my ideas out of kindness. After 50+ discussions, I could identify within minutes whether someone was genuinely interested or if my project wasn't their priority. I learned that lack of interest doesn't reflect on me or my vision's worth. Many amazing people are eager to help and participate. True champions reveal themselves immediately through their reaction to the idea and the collaboration opportunity. Their support stems from genuine interest, and their value extends beyond validation. They become partners who ensure I'm not working alone. Having someone to discuss ideas with has been invaluable throughout the summer.

Be Loud and Proud

One-Liner: Being vocal and building in public is awkward, challenging, time-consuming, and one of the most impactful things I’ve done this summer. It’s not necessary for every startup idea, but it was for this one.

Building in public — through LinkedIn posts, podcasting, emailing, and sharing everything — felt downright uncomfortable and cringy. I recognize I was that person posting on LinkedIn 5-7 days a week. Despite this initial discomfort, the response I received from people who care and share the same mission was incredible. While parts of me dislike being the person who posts frequently on Instagram and LinkedIn, I've realized it acts like a lighthouse, sending signals that attract the right people. Those who share the same vision naturally come forward to offer their thoughts, connections, and resources.

Another significant benefit of building in public is the accountability it fosters. The more I put out into the world, the more I felt I had something to use as motivation and social accountability. When I announced the conference and our progress milestones publicly, people would check in, ask questions, and offer help, creating a natural support system that kept me pushing forward.

This public-facing approach also helped establish credibility with potential speakers and sponsors. When they could see the momentum building through social channels and community engagement, they became more confident in the event's success. What started as occasional updates transformed into a strategic tool for building trust and excitement around our vision.

The key lesson was finding authenticity in this process. Rather than posting for the sake of visibility, I focused on sharing genuine updates, challenges, and wins. This honesty resonated more deeply with the growing community than polished marketing ever could. I am learning that building in public isn't just about promotion, it's about inviting others into your journey and creating space for collaborative growth. I’ve been lucky to meet some fantastic friends, mentors, and champions along the way.

Bryan Johnson is quite remarkable. Love him or hate him, respect him or reject him, no one can deny the impact of the movement he’s led. Perhaps 'cult' is a better term than 'movement,' but that's a separate debate about the pros and cons of building cult-like followings.

That said, I completely disagree with his approach to the longevity and holistic health movement. I respect the science-backed method. I appreciate someone who, even after amassing wealth, chooses to pursue something they truly care about. I recognize the discipline, the risk, and the curiosity he has shown in understanding how his body functions. But that’s the first issue I have with the movement. It’s his body—everyone is different, and not everyone has access to the same resources to verify how his procedures (many of which lack clinical backing) will affect their long-term health.

Over the summer, I’ve delved deeper into the longevity industry, speaking with founders and researching various companies. Above all, I’m supportive and excited that this sector is gaining more attention. The more investment it receives today, the more accessible it will be in ten years for the broader population, thanks to economies of scale and declining tech costs. Differences have begun to emerge among the various longevity offerings, and Bryan’s Blueprint and Don’t Die movement are not aligned with the rest of the industry.

The Don’t Die movement taps into fear with its messaging, but misses the point. The goal of life is to live— to enjoy the experience, to grow as a person and as a soul. Quoting Franz Kafka: “The meaning of life is that it stops.”

The obsession with avoiding death creates unnecessary stress. It reduces life and health to merely avoiding an outcome, rather than enhancing the positive experience of living. As with everything in life, there are positive things to take away from the Don’t Die movement, and there are things to be aware of.

What Don’t Die Has Done Well

As I was thinking about the Don't Die movement, there are four aspects that I believe have led to its success:

It’s on Trend

Longevity and healthspan are two key buzzwords in today’s consumer wellness movement. McKinsey reported in 2025 that 60% of consumers say healthy aging is a top priority. Healthy aging has taken on many forms, ranging from supplementation to diagnostic tracking and performance/recovery optimization, among others. Take NAD+, which stands for nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide, a coenzyme present in basically all our cells, which helps with efficient energy and metabolic regulation. The number of supplements and peptides containing NAD+ has tripled from 2023 to 2024. Metabolic health has been linked to all four chronic diseases, and companies are jumping at the marketing opportunity.

The market is growing rapidly. The global longevity market revenue is expected to reach $314B by 2030, growing at a CAGR of 25.2%. With the growth and market expansion comes improved technology and cost curves, driving affordability. An acute example of this is blood diagnostic tests and MRI scans. Ten years ago, these were both too expensive for even early adopters to consider purchasing out of pocket. Today, companies such as Function, Superpower, Ezra, and Prenuvo boast tens of thousands of customers.

It’s a Marketing Masterclass

In January this year, Bryan and his team released a Netflix Documentary titled “Don’t Die”. This sparked increased media coverage for his already viral social media accounts, which now boast over 4 million followers across YouTube and Instagram. Bryan has a knack for finding and using viral content to his advantage. From click-baity comments/captions to clapping back at haters to, honestly, hilarious content, he’s done a significant job building engagement ahead of selling the blueprint product/program.

It’s the new model we’ve seen in the last few years of flipping entrepreneurship on its head. Instead of building a fantastic product and then amassing a following, Bryan, like others, initially built a substantial following and then monetized that community.

Giving People Community

People are seeking communities. Groups of like-minded individuals that share their ideals, goals, and motivations. The Don’t Die movement picked up on this. They created a space where people can connect and build relationships while sharing a common goal of extending their lives. This is evident from their in-person events and virtual groups. Both the New York and San Francisco Don’t Die Summits were sold out. There is an active Discord: when I went on this morning, there were more than 1,600 active people (Unfortunately, if you're not an admin, Discord doesn't show the full number, so I wasn't able to see it). The Blueprint Reddit has 35,000 members.

A Polarizing Leader Goes a Long Way

Sometimes, people want a charismatic, polarizing leader, and Bryan does an outstanding job fully accepting and diving into the bit of what his role has become. Just look at his social media, news appearances, and online interactions with health professionals. He's on top of all the news when anything comes out on social media; he has a post ready to respond to it. He understands there is a deliberate controversy flywheel. Research shows that high-arousal emotions (awe, anger, anxiety) make content more viral, and social media’s engagement-optimized feeds amplify divisive content. Whether or not I agree with the overall message, I admire how someone has been able to build this much conversation around himself and his protocol.

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Where I Disagree with the Movement

There are a few areas where this starts to fall short for me, or how I would preface and frame it differently:

Messaging

The Don't Die Movement prioritizes attention over outcomes. Viral reach and sold-out events don’t truly show health impact. Research indicates that 30-day retention for health and fitness apps is only about 3%. This means that capturing initial attention rarely leads to lasting behavior change. I wonder how many Discord members or event attendees have experienced sustainable, actionable improvements in their lives for over a year. The most successful companies will be those that demonstrate real patient outcomes rather than impressive optics—showing how their customers are genuinely improving their health.

Mindset

Fear primarily serves as a short-term motivator. A meta-analysis on fear appeals shows they are more effective for one-time actions than for repeated behaviors. Long-term consistency is essential for sustained change. Regarding ongoing prevention behaviors like exercise and healthy eating, a gain-framed message (such as "You get to play with your grandkids on the floor") generally outperforms loss-framed messages (like "You won’t die quickly"). So, while fear can grab attention, it won't keep someone going to the gym after six months when trying to establish a lifestyle change.

In my view, thriving communities are built on mutual upliftment. They avoid using negative vernacular and verbiage or fostering negative energy that leads to comparison, competition, and a zero-sum mindset. There is an abundance in the health space, and the community should focus on supporting and uplifting people. Perhaps that exists in Don’t Die; I’m not a core member. However, from reading some Reddit posts and Discord chats, and observing the language used, it doesn’t seem overly loving or positive.

Motivation

Fear primarily serves as a short-term motivator. A meta-analysis on fear appeals shows they are more effective for one-time actions than for repeated behaviors. Long-term consistency is crucial for achieving and maintaining lasting change. Regarding ongoing prevention behaviors like exercise and healthy eating, a gain-framed message (such as "You get to play with your grandkids on the floor") generally outperforms loss-framed messages (like "You won’t die quickly"). So, while fear can grab attention, it won't keep someone going to the gym after six months when trying to establish a lifestyle change.

In Essence…

The most important point I want to make is that the message of the Don’t Die movement overlooks the distinction or discussion between health span and lifespan. To quickly define: health span is the number of years you spend in good health, while lifespan is the total number of years you live. The gap between health span and lifespan has widened globally to about 9.6 years. People are adding years to their lives but not to their good, healthy years. I understand that, at its core, Bryan’s movement is about staying young, but the message of Don’t Die does not emphasize the desire to live fully. Instead, it focuses on avoiding an inevitable outcome that will happen to all of us. And so, as I mentioned earlier, the goal of everything we’re doing should not be to avoid death; it should be to live fully and to find our purpose for what we want to accomplish here on Earth.

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