Mind Over Matter

In an era of body positivity, some companies are selling mindfulness as a way to lose weight. The approach is not as healthy as it seems.

- YASMIN GAGNE

Last December, Stephen Snowder, a 37-year-old communications staffer at a white shoe law firm in New York, Googled “pandemic weight gain.” He’d stopped jogging and had indulged in comforting Grubhub meals while quarantining. He wanted to fit into his 2019 clothes again.

As he found himself sifting through information about various weight-loss companies and programs online, one slogan caught his eye: “Stop Dieting. Get Lifelong Results.” An app—called Noom—promised to use psychology to help “build new habits to crush your goals.” The company’s website described how he’d be paired with a wellness coach and receive short lessons and quizzes based on cognitive behavioral therapy techniques. Crucially, the app said he could eat anything he wanted. Noom ads soon flooded Snowder’s Instagram feed. He signed on.

The American Psychological Association reports that the 42% of Americans who gained weight between March 2020 and February 2021 added an average of 29 pounds to their frames. People are now looking to shed that weight. The market for weight-loss products is expanding, estimated to grow from nearly $255 billion globally this year to $377 billion by 2026, according to analytics firm Research and Markets. Perhaps no company is capitalizing on this better than Noom, which is valued at $4 billion and has raised more than $650 million from investors such as Sequoia Capital and Silver Lake. Launched in 2016, the company’s app has been downloaded some 45 million times; Noom says it nearly doubled annual revenue between 2019 and 2020, reaching $400 million.