Wearables vs. Willpower. What Really Drives Your Health Journey?

Wearables have become a staple in modern fitness culture, promising to quantify every aspect of our lives - steps, sleep, heart rate, and even our "readiness" to take on the day.

Composite Health Scores (CHS), like WHOOP’s Recovery, ŌURA’s Readiness, Garmin’s Body Battery, or POLAR’s Nightly Recharge, distill complex data into a single number meant to guide our daily decisions. But how accurate are these devices, really? And are they truly helping us, or are they fueling an unhealthy obsession with data that distracts us from the basics of health?

A Brief History - The Tech Was Always There—But Did It Get Better?

Wearable technology isn’t new. Brands like POLAR were tracking heart rate, steps, and sleep as early as the 1980s, and TANITA, a Japanese company with over 80 years of history, pioneered body composition analysis decades ago. These tools existed, but they were niche - used by a small group of enthusiasts or professionals. Today, the same metrics are marketed as revolutionary, repackaged in sleek devices with catchy names.

The question is? have they actually gotten more accurate, or are we just more willing to buy into the hype?

On the surface, wearables have improved. Advances in sensor technology have made heart rate monitoring more reliable, with some devices now boasting accuracy within 5% of medical-grade chest straps during moderate exercise, according to a 2024 study in the Journal of Sports Science. Sleep tracking has also evolved, with algorithms better distinguishing between light, deep, and REM sleep. But dig deeper, and the picture gets murky. A 2023 study found that consumer wearables still misclassify sleep stages up to 30% of the time compared to clinical polysomnography, the gold standard for sleep measurement. Heart rate variability (HRV), a key component of CHS, can vary widely depending on sensor quality, wrist placement, and even skin tone, with some devices showing up to 15% variability in readings across diverse populations. So while the tech has improved, it’s far from perfect, and the single-number CHS these devices produce often oversimplifies a complex reality.

The Science of CHS - A House of Cards?

A 2025 study in Translational Exercise Biomedicine by Doherty et al. exposed the structural weaknesses of CHS. The researchers reviewed 14 CHS across 10 leading wearables and found no standardized methodology - each brand uses its own proprietary formula. The algorithms are opaque, offering no transparency into how scores are calculated. Some CHS prioritize sleep, others HRV, and others activity levels, with no consistency in weighting. Most lack clinical validation or peer-reviewed evidence, yet they’re influencing real behavior: 54% of wearable users adjust their routines based on these scores, and over 70% of ŌURA and WHOOP users shift workout intensity accordingly. The study also raised concerns about generalizability and equity, noting that these scores may not account for diverse populations, such as older adults or those with chronic conditions, whose physiological baselines differ.

This lack of rigor matters. If a CHS tells you you’re at 85% readiness, but the algorithm overweights sleep and ignores your stress levels, you might push too hard and risk injury. Conversely, an overly cautious score might lead you to skip a workout you could have handled. The absence of transparency and validation makes CHS more of a marketing tool than a scientific one - a black box we’re trusting with our health.

Cost and Access - A Privilege, Not a Right

Wearables come with a price tag that makes them far from accessible to everyone. Devices like the WHOOP 4.0 cost around $239 upfront, with a mandatory membership fee of $30 per month (or $239 annually). ŌURA’s ring starts at $299, with an additional $5.99 monthly subscription for full features. Garmin’s higher-end models, like the Forerunner 965, retail for $599, and even Fitbit’s Versa 4, at $199, often requires a $9.99 monthly Premium subscription for advanced insights. These costs add up quickly, especially when you consider that a year of using a WHOOP could easily exceed $500.

For the average person, this is a significant investment - especially when compared to the basics of health. A gym membership might cost $30-$50 per month, but going to the gym, training consistently, eating well, and sleeping enough require time, discipline, and effort that not everyone can afford.

Wearing a tracker is easy; overhauling your lifestyle is not.

This disparity raises questions about access and equity. While wearables are marketed as tools for everyone, they’re often a privilege for those who can afford them, leaving lower-income individuals - who may already face barriers to healthcare - out of the loop.

Scaling Wearables - Where They Work, Where the Human Element Shines

Wearables have different utility depending on the fitness environment, and their effectiveness often hinges on how they complement - or compete with - the human element. In a high-end personal training setting, like a luxury club charging $200 per session, wearables can be a valuable tool for data-driven clients. Trainers can use CHS to monitor recovery, tailor workouts, and justify their premium rates with “scientific” insights—though the trainer’s expertise in reading the client’s energy and form often matters more than the device’s score. In a budget gym, where memberships might be $10 a month and trainers are scarce, wearables can provide a sense of guidance for those who can afford them, acting as a virtual coach for the masses; however, their high cost limits adoption, and many users still need human encouragement to show up consistently. Where wearables fall short across all settings is in replacing the human connection - a trainer’s ability to motivate, correct technique, or notice when a client’s pushing too hard is irreplaceable.

Data can inform, but it’s the human element that inspires action, whether in a luxury club or a bare-bones gym.

Obsession or Empowerment? The Data Dilemma

The rise of wearables has also sparked a cultural shift: we’re obsessed with data. CHS promises to simplify our decisions - push or rest, train or recover - but at what cost? For some, these devices lead to data analysis paralysis, where every decision is dictated by a number. If your readiness score is low, do you skip the gym, even if you feel fine? If your sleep score is poor, do you stress about it, ironically making it harder to sleep the next night? This obsession mirrors the supplement industry, where people chase quick fixes - protein powders, fat burners, sleep aids - hoping for an easy path to health. But just like supplements, wearables can become a crutch, distracting us from the fundamentals: consistent training, balanced nutrition, and rest.

There’s also a psychological toll. Constant monitoring can turn health into a game of perfectionism, where a “bad” score feels like a personal failure. A 2022 study in the Journal of Behavioral Medicine found that 40% of wearable users reported increased anxiety when their metrics didn’t meet expectations, with some even reducing physical activity out of fear of “overdoing it.” Are we making health easier, or are we overcomplicating it? Do we really want it to be this easy, relying on a device to tell us how to live, or are we outsourcing the common sense we should already have?

Back to Basics! What the ‘80s and ‘90s Teach Us

Athletes in the ‘80s and ‘90s didn’t have wearables, and they thrived. Arnold Schwarzenegger built his bodybuilding empire through relentless training and instinct, not a readiness score. Carl Lewis sprinted to Olympic glory without checking his HRV. Steffi Graf and Florence Griffith-Joyner dominated tennis and track through discipline and grit, not sleep metrics. These icons remind us that health and performance come from commitment, not data. Wearables can provide insights, but they’re not a substitute for listening to your body - a skill that’s free and accessible to everyone.

Yes and No - With a Big Caveat

Are wearables here to stay? Yes, because they tap into a growing desire for self-awareness and health optimization. The tech has improved, and for some, it’s a useful tool to stay motivated and informed. Gamification, like maintaining a status on devices such as Myzone® does work - it can make fitness feel rewarding and keep users engaged. But no, they’re not the game-changer they’re marketed to be. The accuracy issues, lack of transparency in CHS, high costs, and risk of obsession make them a double-edged sword.

People come to the gym for various reasons: to become a better version of themselves, for the social aspect, to relieve stress, or simply to feel good.

Will this data tracking support most of these goals, or rather a small niche user? For the data-driven few who thrive on metrics and gamification, wearables can be a powerful motivator—encouraging consistency and providing a sense of achievement. But for the majority, who value community, emotional well-being, or the simple joy of movement, these devices may feel irrelevant or even intrusive. The gym is a place of connection and growth, and while wearables can supplement that journey, they often fail to address the deeper, more human motivations that drive us to show up. They’re most valuable when used as a guide, not a gospel - supplementing, not replacing, the basics of health.

Ultimately, wearables are a reflection of our times: we want data, we want control, we want it easy. But health isn’t easy, and it shouldn’t be. It’s about showing up, day after day, with or without a tracker. I'd put it this way:

“I wear my Myzone, I’ve used it for a long time, and I like to maintain my status - gamification does work. But if I don’t use it for a day, it’s okay. I push the same. I’ve been doing sports since I was 5 in judo, for 20 years, in the gym since I was 16 - I am 44 now.

I’m still here, I’ll still be here - with or without a tracker or an accurate sleep score; even with the lights and AC off. So collectively lets get people commmitted to the lifestlye, not distracted by to much data. - Yves Preissler

www.yvespreissler.com