Here’s how fraudsters exploit our biases to lure us in. Netflix’s Apple Cider Vinegar has renewed interest in Belle Gibson’s infamous wellness scam, reminding us how vulnerable we can be to deception. While Gibson’s scheme eventually collapsed, her story highlights how fraudsters can exploit our psychological and cultural biases to lure us into wellness traps.
![[In Apple Cider Vinegar, Milla (played by Alycia Debnam-Carey) attempts to treat her cancer by drinking juice and having coffee enemas]](https://static.independent.co.uk/2025/02/13/17/02/AppleCiderVinegar_Netflix_24-02-22_BenKing_22A1242.jpeg)
Part of our culture includes the shared mythologies and symbols that help us make sense of the world. These stories and symbols seem to make our lives more “efficient” by surpassing tedious fact-checking. Over time, these cultural codes become embedded into our psychologies, operating as background biases that shape our decision-making.
![[Belle Gibson’s app and book, The Whole Pantry, promoted a diet that claimed that inner health problems were caused by outside contamination]](https://static.independent.co.uk/s3fs-public/thumbnails/image/2015/03/17/18/pg-14-belle-gibson-2.jpg)
By becoming aware of these biases, we can develop a more critical approach to evaluating information presented to us. In doing so, we can protect ourselves from the Belle Gibsons of the world. One pervasive wellness mythology suggests health can be found in the “pure” state of the body, and that illness occurs when outside contaminants pollute the body.
![[Kaitlyn Dever plays Belle Gibson in Apple Cider Vinegar]](https://static.independent.co.uk/2025/01/31/17/The_Stream_36360.jpg)
As anthropologist Mary Douglas notes, we symbolically equate the “inner” with purity and the “outer” with pollution. This leads to efforts to protect ourselves from outside threats. We are disgusted by the idea of the harmful “outside” getting inside and violating the body’s inner sanctum.
Gibson’s cookbook and app promoted a diet that claimed inner health problems (such as cancer) are the result of outside contamination, in this case by “bad” foods. This symbolism also appears in various diets that advocate for removing certain types of food, such as sugar or gluten, to achieve a state of inner sanctity and, therefore, health.
Similarly, various “clean eating” diets will specifically link certain foods to cleanliness and others to dirtiness. In their most extreme form, these diets constitute orthorexia, a clinical condition defined by an “obsession” with healthy eating.
Each day we face an overwhelming array of choices, from the products we use to how we construct our identities. As people living in modern, affluent societies we are, as philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre put it, “condemned to be free”. In this context of choice overload and decision fatigue, ancient wisdom offers a seductive simplicity: a return to simpler times.
In 1953, psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan observed that we possess a nostalgia for an idealised golden age (regardless of whether it ever truly existed). We yearn for a mythical era of simplicity, safety and happiness. This psychological bias for the past manifests as a deep reverence for “ancient wisdom”, seemingly passed down through generations and untainted by modern influence.
This preference can be seen in our instinctive trust in grandparents’ remedies and traditional healing practices, even when scientific evidence doesn’t always support them. Gibson and others co-opt this nostalgia by selling us products that connect us to the past.
Our minds are often suspicious of large-scale and complex manufacturing processes, and will often devalue industrially produced products. This scepticism of scale stems from negative associations with factory work, questionable standards and a history of multinational corporations prioritising profit over people. As a public, we are growing understandably weary of the multinational companies whose influence we can’t seem to escape. Politicians often further this narrative by claiming that globalisation – replacing local cottage industries with industrialised mega-companies – screws the little guys like you and me.
Gibson capitalised on a growing suspicion of the industrial-scale pharmaceutical industry to promote her bespoke “homegrown” wellness products. Locally made goods often have increased value simply because they are made on a smaller scale, regardless of their quality or materials.
Historically, various groups including the Luddites and the hippie movement have rejected the industrial push. More recently, we saw these dynamics play out in Covid-19 vaccine denial, which partially stems from suspicions of the pharmaceutical companies.
Culturally, the concept of the “natural” holds powerful meaning, positioning things found in nature as inherently superior to those manufactured by humans (deemed “artificial”). This natural/artificial dichotomy establishes a symbolic framework in which natural remedies, raw foods and authenticity represent the “proper” order of things – how life should be. The “appeal to nature” bias persists because it resonates with our collective intuition that modern life has somehow disconnected us from important truths or healthier ways of living.
Research has demonstrated we tend to have a positive association with the concept of the “natural”, which we understand as objects not altered by human intervention. This preference isn’t merely aesthetic. It also reflects our belief in a moral order.
Gibson famously claimed alternative therapies – most notably apple cider vinegar – helped treat her alleged cancer. Similar patterns appear throughout the wellness industry, where influencers and companies market products by emphasising their natural origins and minimal processing.