Placebo Is a Business Model

The wristbands were 2010. Since then, the mechanism hasn’t changed. It has only spread.

Supplements without proof of efficacy that look like health and feel like health. Coaching programs that promise transformation and deliver self-optimization, measurable only in testimonials. Wellness products that reference studies that don’t exist or don’t show what’s being claimed. Political narratives that promise security and feed on fear.

The mechanics are always the same. Expectation creates experience. Experience confirms belief. Belief creates demand. Demand creates profit. And at the end there’s a person who says: I felt it. It helped me. Who wants to argue with that?

I can argue with that, because I sold it myself. I saw the mechanism from the inside. Not as an observer, but as a participant.

The marketing was clearly structured. You need a story that’s bigger than the product. Energy. Frequency. Balance. Words that sound like science without being science. Then you need social proof. Athletes wear it. Celebrities wear it. Your neighbor wears it. Then you need the moment of experience. The test. The demonstration. The instant where the customer feels their own body and thinks it’s coming from outside.

That works. Not sometimes. Reliably.

And today it works on a much larger scale than silicone wristbands. The wristbands were a niche product. The mechanism behind them is universal.

Take supplements. A market worth several hundred billion dollars globally. The vast majority of products don’t need proof of efficacy before they hit the market. They just need packaging that looks serious, and a promise that’s vague enough. Not: This will cure you. But: Supports your well-being. Promotes your balance. Strengthens your immune system. Words that say nothing false, but suggest everything right.

Take coaching. A person with a compelling story tells other people how they can change their lives. They show results. Before-and-after. Testimonials from clients who say: It changed my life. The results are real, subjective, felt. But what exactly worked? The method? The attention? The belief that something is changing? Nobody asks the question, because the answer would threaten the business model.

Take politics. A narrative that provides something to hold on to. Us versus them. Things used to be better. If we do this, everything will be fine. The effect is measurable, in polls, in election results, in the mood on the street. Whether the narrative is true is irrelevant for the effect. It just has to feel right.

I’m not saying this as a sermon. I’m saying this as someone who was part of it. Did I sell belief? Wrapped in silicone, decorated with a hologram, for 39.90 a piece? I saw how it works. But whether the effect came from the product, I still don’t know.

The question that concerns me isn’t whether people can be deceived. They can. That’s not a weakness, it’s a trait. The desire to believe is deeply rooted. Deeper than reason, deeper than skepticism. It sits where hope sits. And hope isn’t negotiable.

The question is what we as a society do with this. Whether we accept that the desire to believe is a market. Whether we want rules that limit this market. Or whether we carry on as before and wait for the next bubble to burst.

With the wristbands, it eventually burst. Media reports, court proceedings, refund claims. The hype ended. The mechanics didn’t.

Because the mechanism doesn’t disappear when a product gets pulled from the market. It migrates. To the next product. To the next promise. To the next trend. It’s not tied to a wristband. It’s tied to us. To the wish that there’s something out there that helps. That strengthens. That holds. Even when it’s us who are doing the holding.

Placebo isn’t a flaw in the system. Placebo is the system. It’s the business model of our time. Not because the sellers are evil. But because the market delivers what people want. And people want to believe.

I learned that. Not from books. From experience. And I won’t forget it.