Michela Redoano in “Examining the Effects of Voter Mico-Targeting in the 2016 US Presidential Election”
I wake up in the morning after a refreshing night’s sleep. I immediately check my SleepScore app, which tells me I didn’t have a refreshing night at all. My SleepScore is low. I’ll have to make up for it tomorrow. I roll out of bed and wash my face, making sure to remove my Oura Ring so it doesn’t get wet. It was over $400, plus the $6.99 monthly fee for access to the data it gathers, so I can’t afford to get a new one. I scroll Instagram as my coffee brews. An advertisement for a sleep aid blanket pops up, saying it will “revolutionize the way I sleep”. It’s $300, but what’s money for a good night’s sleep? I like my friend’s travel pictures. Another ad pops up, this time for a walking pad for remote workers.
As I go from class to work throughout the day, I periodically check my step count on my Apple Watch. I want to close all of my fitness rings today because I didn’t have the time yesterday. I switch my music halfway through the day because I know that the Spotify Wrapped is coming out soon and I don’t want anyone to see my guilty pleasure music. A notification from my period tracking app pops up, telling me my cycle is irregular and it might be a sign of endometriosis. Would I like to learn more? I click yes in a brief panic. It tells me that if I want more information, I have to pay $11.49 a month. I close the app. As I eat an apple at work, I make sure to log it in my MyFitnessPal, I wouldn’t want any calories to go unaccounted for. At the end of the day, I’m tired. My legs are sore, but I was productive today and I feel good. My Garmin Body Battery tells me I actually had a terrible day: my anxiety levels and my heart rate variability were high. I log my emotions and my productivity in my Journal app before climbing into bed. I exhale in disappointment and get ready to do it all again the next day.
This story is typical for the millions of Americans that track the numeric parts of themselves. The steps we take, the websites we visit, the money we spend, even the hours we sleep, can all be computed into numbers and graphs that would essentially encapsulate how we live. But why do we want to see it? After all, it's not as if we didn’t walk and eat and exercise before we could track these things. So what is with the obsession of tracking it? This new desire spans race, ideology, income, gender, and even generations. Why do we want to convert our lives into graphs? And how much information do we really need?
Society tells us we need access to this information and then creates technology to provide that access. The first fitness tracker, as we know them today, was the Manpo-kei, developed by Dr. Yoshiro Hatano and released in 1965. It was a pedometer with the built-in suggestion of reaching 10,000 steps per day– nothing like the advanced and elaborate set of data that modern fitness trackers provide. No one was begging for a Fitbit before they existed– but now we’re convinced we need one. Rather, health data has become a product– and the market for it is only growing. The global fitness tracking industry generated over $46 billion in revenue in 2023. In particular, Apple went from selling 11.5 million Apple Watch units in 2016 to 46.9 million in 2022. Increasing smartphone use has made it easier to constantly engage with diet and fitness content. From the Health app that comes pre-installed on every iPhone to buying an Oura Ring to track you while you sleep, you are more accessible to yourself than ever before.
Image: @rubyetc_ on Instagram
Tracking personal health data has become a useful tool, particularly for certain demographics who face disproportionate challenges within the healthcare system. Women, and especially women of color, have historically faced mistreatment or dismissal by healthcare providers—a pervasive and deeply rooted issue that contributes to alarmingly high mortality rates among these groups. This distrust is reinforced by research showing that women's pain is often underestimated, and their symptoms are more likely to be attributed to psychological rather than physiological causes, resulting in delayed or inadequate care. For women and people with chronic illnesses, having a documented history of symptoms and health data can serve as crucial evidence during medical appointments. By presenting this information, they can advocate more effectively for their needs, pushing back against an industry that too often minimizes or invalidates their experiences. This practice not only legitimizes their suffering but also increases the likelihood of timely diagnosis and appropriate treatment, making data-tracking a potentially life saving measure in the ongoing fight for fair and unbiased healthcare. Even to the ordinary consumer, having access to day-by-day data allows for comparison that can be helpful. If a user had a large snack right before bed, and subsequently had a hard time falling asleep, they can now change their habits. But when does it go too far?
While personal data collection can empower individuals to make better choices, it also raises questions about privacy and control, as what starts as helpful self-monitoring can quickly transform into a vast network of data exchanges beyond the user’s control. As everyone in the digitalized age knows, data is capital. Apps sell data to advertisers so that we get personalized marketing on our social media pages, and government institutions use data for security. No one reads the terms and conditions for software updates; our phones track our location across apps; everyone hits “accept cookies” on new websites without really knowing what it means. The less anonymous you are, the more data there is about you; the more real you are, and the more you can be influenced.
From the 2016 Cambridge Analytica scandal (where 50 million Facebook user profiles were harvested for political microtargeting) to the accusations of the period tracking app Flo selling sensitive health data– it’s clear that our data is not as safe as we may want it to be.
During the Change Healthcare data breach in February of 2024, a cybercrime threat actor by the name ALPHV/Blackcat hacked the digital services of the healthcare provider, affecting over 100 million users. This was the largest healthcare data breach to ever occur in the United States, as it compromised data including names, addresses, phone numbers, birthdays, Social Security numbers, diagnosis and treatment information, medical records, billing codes, insurance member IDs, and more. Similarly, in August of 2024, U.S. hospice pharmacy OnePoint Patient Care data breach affected and revealed the data of around 800,000 people. The hospice company did not pay the ransom, so the hacking group subsequently leaked this stolen consumer data. Though these data breaches didn’t concern tracking apps specifically, these examples identify how vulnerable this health information can be once digitized.
Privacy experts warn that sensitive data, such as information entered into cycle tracking apps or fitness platforms, could be sold to third parties or even used to penalize individuals who seek or have had abortions. With a simple subpoena, a government agency could gain access to deeply personal data users have willingly entered into these platforms, creating a potential pathway for surveillance and enforcement based on intimate health information. Although there are no documented cases of this happening in the United States, this concern has sparked public outcry and increased pressure on tech companies to review and strengthen their privacy policies to ensure that sensitive data remains secure and inaccessible to external entities.
Image: The App "Flo" ensures safe user data.
Being healthy is a crucial component for being able to do what we love, and good health is something we frequently take for granted. It isn’t a bad thing to pay attention to your body; however, it would be amiss to ignore the negative effects of this new societal obsession. Further, we need to ask ourselves, is the obsession actually making anyone healthier? Over reliance on these gadgets to change the user’s health has created a false sense of security– and this reliance is not necessarily making anyone lose weight. Experts have found that it’s more important to listen to your body’s signals than to track your heart rate or your step count, as these are oversimplified markers of health. This also may be because of the overstated accuracy of these wearable tracking devices, especially when it comes to sleep. Studies found that even though companies like Oura Ring claim to track your sleep cycles through the wake, “light”, “deep”, and REM sleep stages, they were frequently inaccurate and did not correctly classify the stages.
This leads to another potential consequence: the obsessive factor. Having a goal is not inherently bad. Striving to walk 10,000 steps per day can help you regulate emotions, get off the computer and into the fresh air, and improve your overall cardiovascular health. However, it is how you treat these goals that matters. If 10,00 steps per day becomes the standard that you judge yourself on, a very slippery slope emerges. What happens on the day where you’re sick and only get 5,000? Or, heaven forbid, 2,000? Users have reported this healthy habit transforming into an unhealthy fixation, affecting their mood or sense of self-worth. This singular focus on a perceived paradigm of fitness and health– whether it’s your step count or your Body Mass Index or your Sleep Score– can lead to unhealthy and even dangerous behavior. Studies show that the quantification that these apps promote exacerbate symptoms of eating disorders or obsessive exercise behavior, especially in young women attending university.
It’s easy to make the mistake that having access to this data would tell us who we are. It’s easy to assume that knowing our step count tells us if we get enough exercise, or counting our macros tells us if we’re making progress with our diets. But this data doesn’t include your personality, or your family, or the time you spent with your friends. It doesn’t record if you just moved to a new city or if you’re worried about making the rent or if you’re prone to mood swings when you’re hungry. It doesn’t include the most essential parts of yourself, and in that sense it can never truly represent you.
These days, we intellectualize everything from our emotions to our heartbeats, but diagnosing our problems is not the same thing as fixing them. In fact, it may exacerbate already existing issues. Quantifying ourselves in this way contributes to the overall sociological desire towards perfectionism– to sleep most efficiently, move as much as possible, and eat strictly controlled portions. Maybe it’s to make us more healthy. Maybe we think that if we can just get enough information, enough data, we can solve the stresses of our lives. But are we striving for an “optimal” point of health that we can never achieve?
You are not a machine. Your day was not a plot point. Take care of your health, yes, but remember why you do it in the first place. So that there is time for what you love.
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