Health Influencers Have a Credibility Problem

Gary Brecka is the most egregious example of someone who values sensationalism and gimmicks over tried-and-true science.

In today’s age of social media-fueled health advice, I do my best to stay diplomatic. Most health influencers, despite the occasional exaggeration or dramatic claim, are generally well-intentioned. After all, we all say something a bit outlandish now and then. Sensationalism sells. But there’s a growing subset of figures who repeatedly push misinformation under the guise of science—and Gary Brecka has become one of the most frustrating examples.

Recently, a friend forwarded me a post from Brecka on X (formerly Twitter), where he tried to give his usual health spiel a veneer of credibility by citing actual PubMed IDs. For those unfamiliar, a PubMed ID (PMID) is a unique identifier that links directly to a specific scientific paper. Including a PMID in a post suggests that a statement is rooted in peer-reviewed research. But here’s the problem: when someone actually took the time to plug those PMIDs into PubMed (as my friend did), they found that the studies had absolutely nothing to do with the claims Brecka was making. They weren’t vaguely connected—they were completely unrelated.

Could this be a simple mistake? A typo? Possibly, if it happened once. But ALL FOUR of the PMIDs in that post were completely off base. Four mistakes like that, in one post, suggest a pattern—one that’s hard to write off as mere oversight.

Just a few hours after that, Brecka had yet another post in which he included PMIDs to support statements he was making. Again, when I searched these in PubMed, they returned completely unrelated studies.

The style of Brecka’s posts—generic phrasing, bullet points, punchy conclusions that often contain a poorly written dad joke or attempt at humor—strongly suggests he’s using ChatGPT or a similar AI tool to generate his content. That in itself isn’t a problem. I use AI myself, as do many responsible content creators. The issue arises when that content is blindly copied, pasted, and posted without fact-checking.

In fact, it’s well understood that AI can “hallucinate,” producing citations or facts that appear legitimate but are completely made up. In this case, Brecka’s post looks like it was generated by an AI, complete with fabricated references, and shared without even a cursory attempt at verification. That’s not just careless—it’s disrespectful to his audience whom he doesn’t think has the capability to discern fact from fiction (or care to check).

This kind of behavior is dangerous. People like Gary Brecka are followed and trusted (only god knows why) by hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, many of whom look to influencers like him for real, actionable health advice. That influence comes with a responsibility to ensure the information shared is accurate, well-researched, and, above all, honest.

Brecka’s willingness to post unverified information and dress it up in scientific language undermines the credibility of legitimate science communicators. It feeds into a larger trend where health advice becomes more about branding and virality than truth. And once someone has demonstrated that they are willing to deceive their audience, even by omission, they lose the right to be taken seriously.

I don’t claim to be perfect. I’ve probably cited something incorrectly before, and I’ll be the first to admit that I use tools like AI to help generate ideas or draft content. But here’s the difference: AI is a tool, not the final product. Before I publish anything, I put it through rigorous scrutiny. I read the studies, cross-check the claims, and make sure that what I’m saying is something I truly stand behind.

As a micro health influencer, I believe my audience deserves that level of diligence. They shouldn’t have to double-check everything I post to ensure it’s accurate—that’s my job. That’s the job of anyone who chooses to step into the role of educator or advisor.

This isn’t just about Gary Brecka. It’s about a broken culture in the health and wellness influencer space—one where charisma is more important to some than credentials and evidence. Brecka’s popularity doesn’t stem from the accuracy of his claims. It stems from his proximity to celebrities like Dana White and Joe Rogan, his confidence, and his use of buzzwords and cutting-edge jargon. That might win likes and followers, but it doesn’t make his advice correct. Not all health influencers need to be 100% accurate 100% of the time. But Brecka (and others) are more often incorrect than not—that’s a preposterously bad ratio and one that should raise red flags for anyone in this space.

Health advice shouldn’t be purely entertainment. It’s not marketing. It’s not a gimmick. If you have a platform, you have a responsibility—to be accurate, honest, and respectful to the people who trust you. When someone like Gary Brecka abuses that trust, it’s a disservice to everyone in the health space, and it’s up to us to call it out.