In just the past few months, headlines have shown us how powerful — and dangerous — health misinformation can be. Florida attempted to roll back its school vaccine mandates despite overwhelming medical consensus that vaccines save lives. The Center for Disease Control and Prevention, or CDC, headquarters in Atlanta was the site of a targeted shooting, fueled by COVID-19 vaccine conspiracy theories. And Sept. 4, Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr., one of the most prominent voices spreading vaccine falsehoods, was given a national stage at a Senate hearing.
These events may seem unrelated, but they share a common thread: the erosion of trust in science, replaced by half-truths and scams dressed up as health advice.
The psychology at play here is not new. Studies on the Dunning-Kruger effect, a bias where people with the least knowledge feel the most confident, explain why health misinformation spreads so easily. Health influencers often project total certainty about claims that have little to no evidence, while scientists, trained to speak in cautious, informed tones, can come across as hesitant. That difference tilts the playing field in favor of the loudest voices, not the most accurate ones.
A quick scroll on TikTok or Instagram shows the kinds of claims young people are bombarded with: Seed oils supposedly increase inflammation, touching receipts allegedly lowers testosterone, sunscreen causes skin cancer, raw milk and meat are marketed as superfoods, tanning beds are pitched as immune boosters and food dyes like Red 40 are treated like poison.
But the evidence says otherwise. The claim that seed oils “promote” inflammation is not backed by science. Although handling receipts can increase exposure to bisphenol A (BPA), an endocrine-disrupting chemical (EDC), human studies have shown that the peak level (5.8 μg/L) was lower than that observed after canned soup consumption (20.8 μg/L). There is no credible scientific evidence linking sunscreen use to an increased risk of skin cancer; in fact, sunscreen is a critical tool in protecting against the harmful effects of ultraviolet radiation, which is a proven cause of skin cancer. The CDC has repeatedly documented outbreaks of E. coli and salmonella tied to raw milk consumption. The World Health Organization has classified tanning beds as a Group 1 carcinogenic, as they increase the risk of melanoma by 59% when first used before age 35. And a 2019 meta-analysis found no convincing evidence that food dyes like Red 40 cause ADHD or other widespread health issues.
Part of the reason this misinformation spreads is because it leans on a simple narrative: distrust of “Big Pharma.” The claim is that pharmaceutical companies are only motivated by profit, so the public should reject mainstream medicine altogether. That these companies “keep you sick” so they can profit off of you.
But here is the overlooked fact: “Big Wellness” is bigger. And richer. According to the Global Wellness Institute, the global wellness market was worth $5.6 trillion in 2022. By comparison, the global pharmaceutical market was about $1.6 trillion. The supplement industry alone is projected to hit $415 billion by 2033. On top of that, unlike FDA-regulated drugs, most, if not all, supplements face little oversight for safety and effectiveness. So when an influencer is telling you seed oils are toxic but then attempts to sell you a $60 “hormone-balancing” powder, it is not about your health — it is simply about profit.
If anything, these influencers are modern day snake oil salesmen.
One viral Instagram reel I came across shows exactly how this works. A woman reposted a YouTube video of a man claiming to be a “MIT-educated neurosurgeon.” Aside from the fact that MIT does not even have a medical school or neurosurgery program, his framing is misleading: a case of false authority fallacy. In the video, he describes himself as someone who left “corrupt” medicine for “natural healing,” ignoring the reality that mainstream medicine already emphasizes prevention: Doctors tell patients to exercise, sleep, avoid excessive drinking and eat healthy. Surgery is already a last resort. But when years of damage can’t be reversed, doctors treat what is in front of them to reduce suffering. By ignoring these realities, the influencer creates a false narrative that mainstream medicine is corrupt or unnecessary, which can lead people to delay or refuse essential care. Patients may avoid vaccinations, ignore chronic conditions or attempt unproven “natural” remedies that do nothing to stop disease progression.
The real grift, though, was in the Instagram account that amplified him. The woman behind it markets herself around several “natural health” remedies. One main theme is hydration, an idea she pushes while selling expensive hydrogen and alkaline water filters. There is no strong evidence these products improve health, and they can even be a problem. Water with a pH above 9.8 has actually been linked to risks like hyperkalemia, a dangerous condition where potassium builds up in the blood, especially threatening to people with kidney disease. Despite this, she proudly says in her bio that she has made $1.25 million from these sales. Her success is simply built on monetizing distrust. This kind of profit-driven messaging diverts attention from the real health challenges Americans face and sets up convenient scapegoats like seed oils rather than addressing the larger issues of diet and lifestyle.
It is true that Americans eat more ultra-processed junk food than ever before, but the evidence shows that the real harms come from excess calories, added sugar, sodium and saturated fat — not something like seed oils.
That distinction matters. It would be like blaming the shape of the bottle or the glass it is in for why alcohol is unhealthy, instead of recognizing that alcohol itself is what damages the liver, raises cancer risk and leaves you hungover. No one is trying to water down alcohol’s dangers by pointing at food coloring or packaging, yet with seed oils for example, critics keep fixating on a convenient scapegoat rather than the bigger nutritional picture.
But that is how fearmongering works. If you convince people that the grocery store is filled with hidden killers and that doctors are compromised, they will pay three to four times as much for your “clean” alternative. The cruel joke is that distrust in evidence-based medicine gets monetized by a bigger industry with even fewer safeguards, leaving consumers paying more for products that may do nothing, or even worse, cause harm.
This pattern we are seeing in the vaccine rollbacks in Florida, the violent shooting in Atlanta and the amplification of voices like RFK Jr. is what happens when misinformation is treated as a legitimate “debate” rather than a public health hazard. Lower vaccination rates mean preventable outbreaks of diseases like measles and whooping cough. Attacks on public health agencies put workers at risk. And every dollar not spent on unapproved wellness products is a dollar not spent on proven, life-saving care.
Misinformation thrives because it feels empowering. It flatters people into believing they have “seen through the lies.” But confidence is not the same thing as competence. Health is too important to leave in the hands of self-appointed gurus whose real expertise is in marketing.
The challenge for students, and for all of us, is to learn the difference between skepticism and cynicism. Skepticism asks questions. Cynicism assumes the answers are rigged. And cynicism is exactly what allows the grift to keep winning.
Mateo Biggs is a third-year computer science major. He can be reached at [email protected].
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