Over the past decade, the proliferation of wearable fitness trackers and health-monitoring technologies has transformed how many people engage with their wellbeing, but a growing number of users report that this hyper-optimization can lead to stress and diminished quality of life.

Ashwinn Krishnaswamy, a 34-year-old content creator, spoke publicly about his experience after three years of rigorously tracking daily habits such as sleep, exercise, and consumption of alcohol and caffeine. While the data initially helped him build healthier routines, he found himself prioritizing numbers over social and personal fulfillment. “I’m kind of just optimizing stuff for optimization’s sake,” Krishnaswamy said, questioning the purpose of striving for specific metrics like a 90 sleep score or a 10,000-step daily goal if the ultimate outcome was simply to be more productive at routine tasks. His reflections, shared on TikTok and viewed by millions, highlight a broader cultural debate over the value and potential downsides of relentless self-monitoring.

This conversation intensified following remarks by Steven Bartlett, host of the "Diary of a C.E.O." podcast. Bartlett recounted how consuming a few glasses of wine reportedly disrupted multiple days of his life due to cascading effects on sleep, nutrition, and exercise, as tracked by his Whoop device. The reactions from some public figures criticized Bartlett’s stance as overly rigid, reflecting a tension between the pursuit of control through data and the appreciation of life’s pleasures.

Other individuals share similar stories of tracking addiction and anxiety. Neil Fullarton, an educator from Austin, Texas, wore multiple devices simultaneously—including a Fitbit, Apple Watch, and Whoop—to monitor numerous health metrics. Yet he found that obsessively logging his habits caused more stress, undermining his attempts at mindfulness practices like meditation. Similarly, Edie Horstman, a nutrition consultant from Denver diagnosed with polyendocrine metabolic ovarian syndrome, initially used step counting and protein tracking to manage her condition. However, she became consumed by incremental targets, at one point pacing her apartment to hit 10,000 steps a day. “I became completely addicted,” Horstman said. She now regards this fixation as “anxiety with a fitness label.”

Mental health experts caution that for people with conditions such as obsessive-compulsive disorder, constant self-tracking can exacerbate symptoms. Adam C. Frank, a clinical psychiatry professor at the University of Southern California, notes that what begins as helpful information can morph into compulsive behaviors, shifting the focus away from wellbeing to an end in itself.

Despite these challenges, some users who have stopped using trackers report maintaining healthy habits without the pressure of constant data collection. Fullarton states that his mental health has improved since abandoning wearables, emphasizing that personal choice and balance are key.

More broadly, social psychologists and organizational behavior experts describe the trend toward self-optimization as part of a response to contemporary anxieties and a perceived loss of control. André Spicer, professor of organizational behavior, links this to a cultural push to become the “CEO of Me, Incorporated,” focusing intensely on controllable aspects of life such as health metrics. This approach can lead to exhaustion and overwhelm rather than improvement.

The global fitness tracker market continues to expand, with projections estimating it will reach nearly $50 billion by 2026. Around 35% of Britons reportedly use such devices, underscoring their widespread adoption despite mixed experiences. As the conversation evolves, many users and experts call for a more measured perspective that recognizes the benefits of tracking while acknowledging its potential emotional and psychological costs.