With the launch of Mel Robbins’ new Pure Genius protein shots, many people are skeptical, frustrated—and even surprised—by their favorite influencer’s foray into the highly profitable wellness space.
Nothing New Here
I find myself comparatively whelmed. What we’re seeing is not a new development. For years, Mel Robbins has occupied the status of a pseudo mental health authority, disseminating unqualified—and sometimes unattributed—advice that has many licensed mental health professionals raising their eyebrows.
And while Pure Genius represents Robbins’ first entry into an industry that is more widely criticized for its dubious claims, this new brand initiative is just another iteration of leveraging influencer clout to sell things.
Disparity in How We Consume Health Information
I don’t care that Mel Robbins has a new product. What I find vastly more interesting than any single proteinated revenue stream is the disparity between how critically we regard unregulated, profit-driven behavior when it veers into physical health spaces, compared to mental health.
When it comes to supplements, we demand evidence. We ask: “What does Mel Robbins know about nutrition?”
Yet, for years, we’ve watched her position herself as a mental health guru—profiting off rather glib rebrands of radical acceptance and Cassie Phillips’ poetry—and let it slide under the rubric of “She’s just sharing her opinion.”
The Fantasy of Influencer Reality
Even more concerning, when critical feedback is levied against Robbins’ more harmful misuses of mental health authority, such as her distinctly non-trauma-informed piece in the New York Times, “Life Is Too Short to Fight With Your Family,” which ignored important clinical nuances like family estrangement, the vehement defense by her fans reveals the deeper source of her magnetism.
Mel Robbins’ allure doesn’t actually seem to be rooted in her recycled and repackaged ideas, and it certainly isn’t rooted in any formulation of amino acids. It seems to be rooted in the fantasy she sells.
It’s a fantasy that goes something like “You don’t need genuine expertise or insight to be wildly successful. You just need the audacity.”
It’s an eye-opening story of empowerment—a true manifesto for entrepreneurs and coaches looking to capitalize on niche markets without having to invest in their education, or without the headache of having to dilute their claims in deference to ethical boards and clinical liability. There’s a distinctly “Just fake it until you make it; nobody’s paying attention” feel to the whole charade. And the model is undeniably sexy.
In a world that is increasingly skeptical of traditional sources of medical authority, Mel Robbins may well represent a sort of heroine for the home-grown, do-your-own-research crowd, who reserve a great deal of disdain for expertise, even as the replacement comes unattached to any form of ethical oversight or clinical accountability.
Misinformation of All Kinds is Harmful
Nonetheless, when a person releases a supplement, it should be regarded with the same level of scrutiny as prescriptive mental health advice. Both the fields of psychology and nutrition are backed by research, and accurate, high-quality information matters. Misinformation in either camp has the capacity to mislead and to harm, especially when the lines between genuine expertise and opinions are blurred.
If we were as vigilant about the psychological guidance we allow to percolate into our minds as we are about the health products we digest, this recent news would have hardly generated a conversation. New item, same product.
This blog contains the views of Alex Thomson and is intended as educational content. It is not a replacement for therapy or formalized diagnostic assessment. Read full Disclaimer.
Alex Thomson is a licensed associate professional counselor in the state of Georgia and a certified trauma professional. He provides counseling services through Exhale Counseling Services in Acworth.
