Thailand Bets Big on Anxiety Turning Wellness Into Tourism Gold
Tapping into global anxieties, Thailand aims to become a leading wellness destination, but questions of equity arise.
We live in an age where anxiety isn’t just a feeling; it’s a fuel. It powers the apps we compulsively check, the products we desperately seek, and now, potentially, the economies of entire nations. This isn’t merely about individual stress; it’s about a systemic unease, amplified by a 24-hour news cycle, curated by algorithms, and rooted in the precarity of our times. Little wonder the wellness industry is booming. But it is fascinating to see how that boom is reshaping economies and, even more, how nations are actively engineering that reshaping.
Thailand is doing just that. The Bangkok Post recently reported on Dr. Tanupol Virunhagarun, CEO of BDMS Wellness Clinic, who is spotlighting the country’s push into wellness tourism. Driven by a rapidly aging population and a drop in revenue from its traditionally booming tourism sector after external shocks, Thailand is betting big on turning itself into a global wellness hub. Revenues in the wellness tourism sector exploded from $5.6 billion in 2022 to $12.3 billion in 2023, a 28.4% increase, highlighting the economic opportunity for the country.
“Wellness tourism in Thailand has evolved far beyond clinical treatments,” said Dr Tanupol. “Today, visitors seek integrated experiences, ranging from traditional and complementary medicine to spa therapies and wellness retreats, spurring economic activity across local communities.”
But this isn’t just about better spas. It’s about a fundamental shift in how healthcare is conceived, moving from a reactive model to a proactive one. As Dr. Tanupol argues, the focus is now on “lifestyle medicine and scientific wellness,” aiming to prevent chronic diseases and promote longevity. This realignment involves everything from genetic testing and body scans to fitness assessments and customized nutrition plans, all designed to nip problems in the bud before they become costly medical crises. But notice the causality at work here: The fear of those costly medical crises is, itself, a powerful driver of demand.
This pivot towards preventative care is happening globally. The World Health Organization, for example, has increasingly emphasized the importance of addressing the social determinants of health — things like poverty, education, and access to healthy food — as crucial factors in preventing illness. But what’s unique about Thailand’s approach is the way it’s actively marketing this preventative healthcare as a tourism product. It’s not just responding to the trend; it’s actively monetizing it.
The key here is understanding the relationship between markets and human needs. In “The Managed Heart,” sociologist Arlie Hochschild explored how emotional labor becomes a commodity in service industries. Here, Thailand is commodifying not just emotional labor, but the very promise of emotional and physical well-being. It’s not simply offering a vacation; it’s offering a chance to escape the anxieties of modern life and, crucially, to signal that escape to others. The explosion of wellness-focused social media content is no coincidence. The underlying message in many photos and posts is, “I’m taking care of myself” — and in the process, participating in a carefully curated economy. The “self-care” industry becomes another engine for the same system that creates the need for that care.
But is this shift sustainable? Can a nation truly build its economic future on the anxiety of the global elite? History offers a cautionary tale. The spa towns of 19th-century Europe — Bath, Baden-Baden — thrived on the leisure time of the wealthy, but they were also reliant on the disparities that created that wealth in the first place. The gilded age Sanitariums offered “cures” for ailments exacerbated by industrial life, ailments the very wealthy could afford to address in luxurious settings. If the anxieties of the modern world are rooted in systemic issues like economic inequality, political instability, and climate change, then simply selling wellness escapes won’t address the underlying causes. It might, in fact, exacerbate them by creating a new kind of wellness divide.
Ultimately, Thailand’s gamble on wellness tourism reveals a deeper truth: that health has become not just a personal pursuit, but a geopolitical strategy. It’s a reminder that what we often consider individual choices—how we eat, how we exercise, how we manage stress—are increasingly shaped by powerful economic forces, and that those forces are now being actively leveraged on a national scale. The rise of wellness tourism asks us to interrogate who truly benefits from the commodification of self-care, and whether it is actually addressing the root causes of the global unease it is attempting to solve or, more cynically, just profiting from them. The pursuit of wellness, it seems, can be a business plan.