On Dr Anthony Fauci’s watch, the USA became one of the sickest wealthy nations in the world, despite spending twice as much on health per capita as other OECD nations. Chronic childhood disease rates rose from around two per cent in the late-1960s to 45 per cent by 2025, and three-quarters of US adults now have a chronic disease. Nor is this a result of longevity – US lifespans are four years below comparable countries such as Australia. Fauci was of course only one among many, but over a 54-year career, 40 years of which were doling out many billions at one of the largest US health research funders, the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, he became enormously powerful. Arguably, his Covid pandemic mismanagement, excesses and deceits merely continued this earlier pattern of public health failures.

The silver lining has now arrived, in Australia and elsewhere, in the backlash. You see it in the new broom sweeping through US health, with Covid critics such as RFK Jr, Jay Battacharya and Dr Oz now transforming institutions and policies. There’s an enormous new focus on healthy living, including wellness, preventive care, functional medicine, sleep, fitness, mental wellbeing, supplements and all manner of high-tech initiatives. McKinsey researchers say the global wellness market has reached $2 trillion annually, with the US market worth $500 billion and growing at up to 10 per cent per year.

And it’s not just gym bros and gals, morning walkers and cyclists in their athleisure, the signs are everywhere, and you will have noticed them in your daily life. Vitamin and mineral supplement sales are hitting new records, with daily usage increasingly the norm, especially among younger generations. Google AI says two-thirds of health-conscious and alcohol-shy Gen Z and Millennials now buy supplements, driving ‘explosive growth’ in ‘functional nutrition’ (think health-optimised foods such as collagen chocolate, protein ice cream, etc), especially to do with gut health, fitness, sports and immunity. Then we have the relatively wealthy Boomers buying anti-ageing treatments and products, notably magnesium and omega-3 oils. One-in-five American homes now has someone using a GLP-1 weight loss injectable, with heaviest usage among women aged 50 to 64. Peptides are the latest buzzword. US adult obesity has even started to fall, from 40 per cent in 2022 to 36 per cent now, according to Gallup.

Indeed, health and wellness are now achieving near sacred cow status, to the point of craziness. What alerted me to the extremes of this social trend was a post from an influential, elite New York City fashion and media digital publication called Magasin, announcing the 2026 start of a new longevity and aesthetics magazine called High Touch. Founder Laura Reilly said: ‘In January alone, I’ve done Botox, Emface, IPL, scheduled Moxi/broadband light, seen my orthodontist, cardiologist, GP, OBGYN, ophthalmologist, dermatologist, plastic surgeon, trainer, and pilates instructor. I’ve renewed my health insurance and medspa membership. I’ve drawn blood three times and given two urine samples. My current skincare routine is 6-8 steps, my daily supplement stack is 17 pills (20 on Mondays) and a peptide taken subQ, and I’ve engaged at least 5 high-tech tools from my home device library (red light, SAD light, PEMF, etc). I’ve tracked every meal, macro, and relevant micronutrient. All of this, and I consider myself pretty healthy and not hypochondriac.’

That’s open to debate. The magazine immediately hit the top spot in its Substack category. Subjects subsequently covered included photobiomodulation, snail mucin, liposomal phospholipid complex, intermittent hypoxia, and many other areas incomprehensible to the normal human.

I’m all for good health, it’s something we should all work and strive for in order to live the life we want to live. Any illness quickly brings us all back down to earth. But the point of health is not to hit some abstract ideal of wellness, but to be able to live our life. It’s a means, not an end. Achieving esoteric health markers for the point of it strikes me as highly self-centred and narcissistic, not to mention expensive, and out of reach of the average Joe. It is getting a bit crazy out there.

By way of an alternative, I’m just back from the Buchinger Wilhelmi fasting retreat on the shores of Lake Constance, in gloriously scenic southern Germany. The family-run retreat and research centre has been going for over a century, has a 70-per-cent return visitation rate, and is one of the two or three best global fasting retreats. Guests choose either the three-week or ten-day option, and one is eased into and out of the fast over a few days, with 800 calorie meals. The fast involves a mere 200 calories a day, delivered in the form of light broths and vegetable juices, and there’s a full suite of side treatments and therapies that I never plumbed the depths of. Daily walks and recreational activities are included. An Australian marathon runner who was there, and who daily measured her body composition, said she lost only 100g of muscle during the process, but much more fat. Most people report, with eyes shining, vastly lowered blood pressure, significant weight loss, and the resolution of various issues. Nurses take daily observations. I never felt hungry, not once, and the food, when it came, was gourmet. As a Frenchwoman said to me, in wonder, ‘It’s like being in an enchanted bubble.’

There are many paths to good health, and our traditions already offer various time-proven and simple fixes. It’s just that you have to stop eating and popping pills to get there.