Is It Really Our Responsibility to Improve the Nation's Health?

There is, and always has been, a great deal of discussion within the fitness industry about the role we should play in improving the nation's health. It's one of those debates that resurfaces every few months, often triggered by a new government initiative, an industry report, concerns about NHS pressures, or yet another statistic highlighting rising obesity levels.

Over the years, I've had countless conversations about this topic. Some have been thoughtful and constructive, others more heated, but they almost always start from the same assumption: that the fitness industry has a responsibility to improve public health.

Until recently, I largely accepted that argument without questioning it too deeply. After all, we're in the fitness industry. Helping people become healthier is what we do, isn't it?

Then something struck me the other day that made me pause and reconsider the entire premise.

Is it actually our responsibility to improve the nation's health?

Or is our responsibility simply to run successful businesses that provide products and services people want to buy?

At first glance, that might sound like a cynical question. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realised that the answer isn't nearly as straightforward as many of us would like to believe.

The story that came to mind was that of Michelin. Today, Michelin is synonymous with restaurant ratings and fine dining. A Michelin Star can transform a restaurant's fortunes overnight and has become one of the most respected accolades in the hospitality industry. What many people don't realise, however, is that Michelin never set out to improve restaurants.

Michelin wanted to sell tyres.

In the early days of motoring, there simply weren't enough people driving. The company recognised that if it could encourage people to travel further and more often, they would wear out their tyres more quickly and need replacements. The Michelin Guide was born as a way of encouraging travel, promoting destinations and helping motorists find places to eat and stay.

The outcome was extraordinary. Restaurants benefited, standards improved and an entire industry evolved around the guide. Yet none of that was the primary objective. The objective was to sell more tyres.

That got me wondering whether our industry has fallen into a similar trap.

Because if we're honest, we are businesses first and foremost. We employ people, pay rent, manage cash flow, market our services and compete for customers. Like every other commercial sector, we need revenue, profit and sustainability if we're going to survive.

The fact that the service we provide happens to improve people's health is undoubtedly a wonderful thing. In fact, it's one of the reasons I have remained passionate about this industry for almost three decades. There aren't many sectors that can genuinely claim to improve both quality of life and longevity. We can.

That is something we should be incredibly proud of.

However, I increasingly question whether we should be positioning ourselves as the primary solution to the nation's health problems.

The obesity crisis is often cited as evidence that we should be doing more. Yet when we look objectively at the factors driving obesity, inactivity is only part of the story. Modern diets, highly processed foods, sugar consumption, sedentary lifestyles, urban planning, education and social behaviours all play significant roles.

The food industry, in particular, has had an enormous influence on public health outcomes. Entire product categories are engineered to maximise taste, convenience and repeat purchases. Consumers are surrounded by highly processed options that are often cheaper, more accessible and more heavily marketed than healthier alternatives.

Yet despite this, we rarely see the same expectation placed upon food manufacturers to solve the nation's health problems.

Instead, the responsibility often seems to find its way back to fitness operators.

We're expected to reduce obesity.

We're expected to relieve pressure on the NHS.

We're expected to improve national wellbeing.

We're expected to become a key pillar of public health policy.

It's a tremendous burden to place upon an industry that still struggles to engage the majority of the population.

Perhaps that is why I've started to wonder whether we are approaching the challenge from the wrong direction.

What if our focus shouldn't be on convincing people that exercise is good for them?

After all, most people already know that.

I've never met anyone who genuinely believes that sitting on the sofa all day is healthier than exercising. Most people understand the benefits of movement. They know exercise can help them lose weight, improve fitness, reduce stress and enhance their quality of life.

Knowledge is not the problem.

Engagement is.

The real challenge facing our industry isn't educating people about exercise. It's creating experiences that make them want to participate.

When consumers join our facilities, they are rarely buying health. They're buying confidence. They're buying enjoyment. They're buying community. They're buying friendship, motivation, entertainment, achievement and belonging. they they may come in with a fat loss aim or similar, but lets be honest with ourselves, if they dont enjoy it, feel part of something or feel motivated the fat loass aim wont keep them coming, so with that in mind is it really why they attend?

They want somewhere they feel comfortable.

They want somewhere they enjoy visiting.

They want an experience that makes them feel good about themselves.

In many ways, we're closer to hospitality than healthcare.

Nobody visits a restaurant because they're excited about the nutritional composition of the menu. They go because they want an enjoyable experience. The food is important, but the experience is what drives repeat visits.

The same principle applies to fitness.

People don't return because we've reminded them about obesity statistics. They return because they enjoyed themselves. They felt welcomed. They achieved something. They connected with others. They felt part of something bigger than themselves.

This is where I believe our industry sometimes takes itself too seriously.

We spend enormous amounts of time discussing our role in public health, yet perhaps we'd achieve more by focusing on creating experiences people genuinely love.

Because if we can make exercise enjoyable, people will do more of it.

If more people do it, they'll become healthier.

If they become healthier, society benefits.

The difference is that health becomes the outcome rather than the pitch.

One of the most fascinating examples of this in recent years has been Hyrox. Whether you personally love it or hate it is irrelevant. What Hyrox has achieved is remarkable because it understood something fundamental about human behaviour.

It didn't sell exercise.

It sold challenge.

It sold achievement.

It sold identity.

It sold community.

People train for Hyrox because it gives them a purpose beyond simply being fitter. The fitness is almost a by-product of the experience.

That raises an important question for the rest of us.

How do we create similar levels of engagement for the average person?

Not the athlete.

Not the fitness enthusiast.

Not the person already obsessed with training.

The average person who simply wants to feel better, look better and enjoy life.

How do we make movement something people genuinely look forward to?

How do we create environments that are welcoming rather than intimidating?

How do we build products that feel exciting rather than obligatory?

Because if we can answer those questions, I suspect we'll do far more for the nation's health than any awareness campaign ever could.

After nearly thirty years in this industry, I remain incredibly optimistic about what fitness can achieve. I just think we've become slightly distracted by trying to position ourselves as the solution to every public health challenge.

The reality is that we won't solve obesity on our own. We won't transform the NHS. We won't single-handedly make the nation healthier.

What we can do is create businesses that people love. We can provide experiences that inspire movement. We can build communities that support positive habits. We can help people feel stronger, happier and more confident.

And perhaps, in doing so, we'll improve the nation's health anyway.

Not because we set out to save it, but because we became exceptionally good at giving people something they genuinely wanted.