You can see the same thing in each big-box gym, supplement store, or wellness influencer’s feed: a business that isn’t focused on health but on making money. Protein powders that prioritize marketing over nutrition often promote a false body image. Fitness classes that are as expensive as luxury bags. Subscription apps are designed less to teach you how to live well than to keep you paying for the privilege forever.
Wellness today is a trillion-dollar business. And like any business, it thrives on one thing: keeping the customer coming back. That means keeping us insecure. Keeping us guessing. Keeping us confused enough to think the next trend might finally be the one.
This is where EJ Neiman’s Faux Fitness: A User’s Manual for Being Human barges in like a whistleblower at a sales conference. It’s a book that doesn’t just poke fun at the absurdities of the fitness world, though it does that brilliantly. It shows the system for what it is: a cleverly designed marketing machine that makes money off of our pain, our diets, our fears, and our constant search for a new definition of “healthy.”
A Business Built on Bodies
Fitness has always had a commercial side: gyms charge fees, trainers get paid, and products get sold. But what Neiman uncovers is how deeply that consumerism has taken root. It’s not just about exercise anymore. Health has been packaged, branded, and sold back to us in bite-sized chunks.
Can’t sleep? There’s an app subscription for that.
Want to feel younger? Here’s a $60 “anti-aging” supplement.
Don’t like the gym? Try a $200-a-month studio with mood lighting.
Each solution is marketed as urgent, essential, and just out of reach enough to keep us chasing after it. As Neiman points out, the business model depends on dissatisfaction. If we were truly content and well, the industry would lose its customers.
Cutting Through the Spin
The brilliance of Faux Fitness lies in its ability to cut through this marketing fog without sounding preachy or heavy-handed. Neiman doesn’t write like a policy analyst or a researcher. He writes like someone who’s been there, who’s bought the supplements, tried the workouts, fallen for the slogans. And he uses humor as his scalpel.
He parodies the language of the industry until it collapses under its own absurdity. “No pain, no gain” becomes not a mantra but a punchline. Detox teas and miracle shakes are cast less as solutions than as props in a never-ending sales skit. The reader laughs, but also feels the sting of recognition.
That’s the point. The laughter isn’t the point. It’s the door. When the ridiculousness becomes clear, the truth becomes harder to ignore: perhaps we’ve been sold more myths than strategies for doing things.
Reclaiming Control
The question, then, is what happens when you stop buying in literally and figuratively. Faux Fitness doesn’t offer any additional products for purchase or programs to follow. Instead, it invites readers to reclaim control by asking better questions.
Why do I believe soreness means progress?
Who told me rest was weakness?
Why does “healthy eating” feel like punishment instead of nourishment?
By exposing the industry, Neiman gives readers the chance to see health as something they already possess the skills to create, rather than something they need to continually purchase. He says that real health isn’t about a new product. It’s about knowing how the body works, being clear, and keeping things simple.
Why It Matters Now
This book lands at a critical cultural moment. Wellness has never been louder or more visible, yet actual health outcomes remain stagnant or worsening in many societies. Stress levels are up. Chronic pain is common. Obesity rates rise even as diet culture thrives. The paradox is glaring: with all this information and access, why are we still struggling?
Faux Fitness suggests the answer: because the industry profits from struggle. If every new product solved the problem, there would be no repeat customers. So the cycle continues. We keep paying. We keep hoping. And the industry keeps cashing in.
Neiman’s book breaks this cycle not by offering a new “fix” but by exposing the trap. It’s part satire, part manifesto, and part survival guide for anyone tired of the noise.
The Author’s Story
EJ Neiman doesn’t claim to be an outsider shouting at the gates. He’s been inside the system. He’s done the workouts, bought the powders, and followed the diets. He knows the seduction of the slogans and the sting of disappointment when the promised results never come.
His shift came not through triumph but through frustration. When nothing worked, he stopped asking, “What’s next?” and started asking, “Why?” Why do I believe soreness proves success? Why do I think health has to be bought? Why does the industry tell me rest is weakness when it feels like relief?
Those questions became the backbone of Faux Fitness. And through them, Neiman found not just a clearer understanding of health but a stronger sense of control.
Trust and Praise
Readers who got the book early have complimented it for being both tough and warm. “It’s the first health book I’ve read that didn’t make me feel worse about myself.” It doesn’t sell you anything; it gives you a perspective. – Review by an Early Reader
For others, it has been compared to cultural critiques, such as Michael Pollan’s explorations of food systems or Barbara Ehrenreich’s unflinching examination of work and wellness. Like those works, Faux Fitness strikes a balance between accessibility and cultural relevance, speaking to everyday people while pointing to a broader perspective.
The Bigger Picture
At its core, Faux Fitness isn’t about taking down an industry. It’s about liberating individuals from the myths that industry has sold them. It’s about reminding readers that wellness isn’t a commodity, it’s a birthright.
Health doesn’t have to hurt. It doesn’t have to cost a fortune. And it doesn’t have to be performed for an audience. It can be simple. It can be human. It can even be joyful.
That’s the message the wellness industry doesn’t want you to hear. And that’s the message this book delivers.
Take Action
We’ve been sold fads, fixes, and formulas. Maybe it’s time to stop buying and start asking. That’s the shift Faux Fitnessoffers a chance to trade noise for clarity, and consumption for control.
