I will not use AI health features for my well-being. And here’s why

A few years ago, I thought I was about to die. And while (spoiler alert) I didn’t, my severe health anxiety and ability to always assume the worst persisted. But the increasing prevalence of smart devices for tracking health and the new ways in which artificial intelligence is trying to understand our body data prompted me to make a decision. For peace of mind, AI should stay out of my personal health. And having just watched the Samsung Unpacked event, I’m more convinced of this than ever. I will explain.

Sometime in 2016, I had severe migraines that lasted for two weeks. My anxiety increased sharply during this period due to the accompanying anxiety, and when I eventually called the NHS helpline in the UK and explained the various symptoms, they told me I needed to go to the nearest hospital to be seen within two hours. I distinctly remember them telling me: “Go there with someone, it will be faster than getting an ambulance to you.”

This call confirmed my worst fears. That death was imminent.

As it turned out, my fears of early death were unfounded. It was actually due to severe muscle strain from hanging several heavy cameras around my neck for an entire day while photographing a wedding. But the helpline agent was simply acting on the limited data I provided, and as a result, they – perhaps quite rightly – took a “better safe than sorry” approach and urged me to seek immediate medical attention.

I’ve spent most of my life struggling with health anxiety, and episodes like this have taught me a lot about my ability to jump to the worst conclusions ever despite having no real evidence to back them up. Ringing in my ears? It must be a brain tumor. Tingling in my stomach? Well, I’d better get my shit together.

I’ve learned to live with this over the years, and while I still have my ups and downs, I know better what triggers things. I’ve learned never To google my symptoms. Because no matter what symptoms I had, cancer was always a possibility that research might raise. Medical websites – including the NHS website – provided no relief and usually only led to brain-damaging panic attacks.

Unfortunately, I’ve found that I have a similar response with many health trackers. I liked the Apple Watch at first, and its ability to read my heart rate during workouts was useful. Then I found that I was checking it more and more throughout the day. Then doubt crept into my mind: “Why does my heart rate go up when I sit down? Is this normal? I’ll try again in five minutes.” When it is no different (or worse), panic naturally ensues.

Whether I’m tracking my heart rate, blood oxygen levels, or even sleep scores, I worry about the “normal” range and any time my data falls outside of that range, I immediately assume that means I’m about to skew right. There and then. The more data these devices provide, the more things I feel I have to worry about. I’ve learned to keep my fears at bay and continue to use smartwatches, without them posing a major problem for my mental health (I have to not use any heart-related functions like EKGs), but AI-based health gadgets scare me.

During its Unpacked keynote, Samsung talked about how the new Galaxy AI tools — and Google’s Gemini AI — are supposed to help us in our daily lives. Samsung Health’s algorithms will track your heart rate as it fluctuates throughout the day, letting you know about changes. It will provide personalized insights from your diet and exercise to help with cardiovascular health and you can even ask the AI ​​agent questions related to your health.

For many, this may seem like a great overview of your health, but not for me. For me, it feels like more and more data is being collected and waved in front of me, forcing me to acknowledge it and inevitably creating an endless feedback loop of obsession, anxiety, and panic. But the AI ​​questions are the biggest red flag for me. AI tools by their nature have to provide “best guess” answers usually based on publicly available information online. Asking the AI ​​a question is really just a quick way to do a Google search, and as I’ve found, Googling health queries doesn’t end well for me.

Just like the NHS operator who inadvertently caused me to panic about death, an AI health assistant will only be able to provide answers based on the limited information it has about me. Asking a question about my heart health may turn up a variety of information, just as searching on a health website about why I get headaches. But it’s very similar to how headaches are He can Technically a symptom of cancer, it’s also likely to be a muscle twitch. Or I didn’t drink enough water. Or I need to look away from my screen for a bit. Or I wasn’t supposed to stay up until 2 a.m. playing Yakuza: Infinite Wealth. Or a hundred other reasons, all of which are much more likely than the one you’ve already decided is definitely the culprit.

But will AI give me the context I need to stop worrying or obsessing over my mind? Or will it just provide me everyone Possibilities as a way of trying to provide complete understanding but instead feeding into this “what if” anxiety? And just like how Google AI Overviews asked people to eat glue on pizza, would an AI health tool simply scan the internet and provide me with a clear-cut answer, with inaccurate conclusions that could turn my anxiety into full-blown panic attack territory?

Or perhaps, like the kind doctor in the hospital that day who smiled sweetly at the sobbing man sitting across from me and who had already drafted a farewell message to his family on his phone in the waiting room, an AI tool might be able to see that data and simply say, “You’re doing well, Andy.” “Stop worrying and go to sleep.”

Maybe one day this will be the case. Maybe health trackers and AI insights can provide me with the dose of logic and reassurance I desperately need to counter my anxiety, rather than be a cause of it. But even then, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.