Wellness TikTok is full of dangerous ‘health’ advice

“You’re so funny!”

“Thanks when I was 15 I got misdiagnosed with anorexia but at 19 they found out it was actually cancer then I got scammed by a woman who said she could cure it with green juice and now there’s a documentary and a TV show about it on Netflix.” This is the caption on a recent video from Bella Johnston — self-described “cancer-surviving hot girl who loves doing stuff” — which quickly went viral on TikTok, clocking up 5.4 million views. Johnston was referencing Belle Gibson, the Australian “wellness” influencer who leapt to fame in the 2010s after claiming to have cured her brain cancer via alternative therapies and a healthy diet. She managed to garner a dedicated Instagram following, launch an award-winning app and publish a top-selling cookbook before the entire edifice came crashing down when it was revealed that Gibson did not have — and had never had — a terminal illness. The stranger-than-fiction story has risen to prominence once more a decade later following a hit Netflix adaptation, Apple Cider Vinegar, starring Kaitlyn Dever.

Johnston was an Australian teenager genuinely battling cancer at the time of Gibson’s ascendance. She underwent radiotherapy and major oesophageal surgery that left her permanently scarred. Constantly exhausted and deeply unwell, Johnston couldn’t help but compare herself to Gibson — and the glowing-with-health selfies that populated her polished Instagram profile — and wonder whether she was being punished for picking conventional medicine over juice cleanses and superfoods. “I can’t even begin to explain how insane I felt all the time looking at (Gibson’s) feed,” Johnston says in another video. “Like, why was I so ugly? Why was I so tired? ... I took that all on personally because I felt it was because I had chosen conventional medicine that all these bad things were happening to me.” In hindsight, it perhaps seems obvious that Gibson was a delusional fraudster. But, at the time, Johnston was “so desperate to know that there was a cancer cure — and it was only green juice. Everything was going to be OK if we just ate healthy. I was desperate, my family was desperate, and that’s what she preyed upon — people’s desperation. We just wanted to live.” When the truth was exposed and Johnston learned of Gibson’s deception she was, naturally, unspeakably angry.

We might hear this story and think it could never happen a decade on — that Gibson was a product of the Wild West days of early Instagram, before becoming an “influencer” was seen as a viable career path and when the multibillion-dollar “wellness” industry was still in its infancy. But the stats suggest otherwise — and that, if anything, these days we’re even more prone to being duped by an attractive content creator on TikTok making promises about our health.

Some 61 per cent of Brits seek wellness advice on social media, rising to 91 per cent of Gen Z, reports new research from online supermarket Ocado and Holland and Barrett. Parasite cleanses, drinking olive oil on an empty stomach, doing apple cider vinegar shots, green juice cleanses and viral trends such as sea moss, lettuce water and chia seed water are currently among the most-tried health “hacks” for Brits — despite the fact that one in four people have experienced adverse side effects from following online “wellness” practices.

While many of these are ineffective yet largely harmless, some could actually pose risks to our health. NHS doctor and TikTok creator Karan Rajan has called out, for example, the use of coffee enemas, which “might damage the gut lining, disrupt the microbiome, and even lead to rectal burns or electrolyte imbalances.” More concerningly, one in five Gen-Zers say they would trust social media over speaking to a doctor when it comes to health and wellness advice, according to the poll of 2,000 adults. It also found that more than a quarter (28 per cent) of Brits are now turning to AI platforms like ChatGPT for health info. It’s a particularly worrying trend, given the inconsistent nature of AI. Sure, if you ask it the capital of France you’re likely to get an accurate response; but when it comes to a trickier question, “chatbots like ChatGPT often fabricate information,” according to Android Authority. “This is because generative language models are designed to mimic the way humans write, not the way we think.”

Getting your advice from a human being can be just as risky, however, if they happen to be a “wellness influencer” or “health guru” rather than a qualified professional backed by science. A decade after Belle Gibson tricked the world into believing she beat a terminal brain tumour with organic foods, the issue of online personalities misleading their followers is as rampant and ever.

Influencers are, in fact, promoting “overwhelmingly” misleading information about medical tests on Instagram and TikTok, according to a global University of Sydney-led study published in February. Researchers analysed almost 1,000 posts about five controversial medical screening tests that had been promoted by social media influencers to a combined audience of nearly 200 million followers. These included full-body MRI scans; genetic testing claiming to identify early signs of 50 cancers; blood tests for testosterone levels; the anti-mullerian hormone (AMH) test that surveys a woman’s egg count; and the gut microbiome test.