
By James Greenfield, CEO, Koto
In the late 2000s, we all started seeing wearable technology for the first time. From the trendy Nike FuelBand to the more Dad-adjacent Fitbit, we began counting our steps. Fast forward a few years and suddenly people were talking about sleep scores. Fast forward again and its strain, irregular rhythms and devices on our wrists trying – and often failing – to make us behave a little more responsibly.
And yet, despite their impressive capabilities and the awareness they build, wearables are arguably stuck on the wrong side of the adoption curve. They’re powerful but not fully understood, and this growing industry is mistaken if it believes the real breakthrough will come from adding more features or improving battery life.
In reality, true adoption will come from bringing meaning to these devices by closing the delta between your smartphone and your doctor, and turning everyday signals into insight that matters where decisions are made. Engineering and product matter, of course, but we believe the real category shift will be driven by behavioural strategy, design and storytelling.
Reactive healthcare meets predictive technology
Historically, healthcare systems have been built reactively. Most of the time, you only enter them once something has already gone wrong. Wearables flip that model in theory by collecting continuous signals that help people understand issues earlier, change course sooner and potentially avoid the worst-case scenario. Roughly 1 in 5 adults in the US now uses a wearable health tracker, but only a fraction share data with clinicians
But in practice, almost all of that preventative potential sits outside clinical care. Most clinicians don’t want patients turning up with hundreds of unverified data points. More than 7 in 10 physicians say they already have more data than they can handle, which is only increasing as a result of advancements in apps and wearables. As a result, wearable data exists in a parallel universe that is too detailed for consumers and too unfiltered for professionals, with the odd exception like Neko Health.
This is where brand strategy becomes fundamental for both wearable companies and the healthcare providers they need to intersect with. Where good brands translate complexity into meaning, great brands change behaviour. Wearables really need to do both if they’re ever going to sit at the centre of preventative health.
Data isn’t the problem, interpretation is
Too much of anything is bad for you, and that includes data. Wearables can capture millions of signals, but if people don’t understand them, don’t trust them or don’t know what to do next, the whole system becomes theatre. The moment someone’s wrist buzzes with an alert, deeper questions arise: What should I do with this? Do I trust this?
Trust isn’t built through hardware or software alone. Trust is the number-one barrier to using AI for health decisions. It’s built emotionally through tone, clarity, boundaries, transparency and consistent experience. People trust their doctor because they trust the institution behind them. They know clinicians have been rigorously trained. Asking someone to trust a machine-generated interpretation is a far bigger behavioural leap than most companies acknowledge, however slick the LLM interface.
The next wave of wearables must build trust not just in the accuracy of the data but in the intent behind the interpretation. Clear limitations, emotionally intelligent language, calm UI and transparent models are the baseline. Brand is the interface between uncertainty and confidence, the why behind the what. It helps translate data into something tangible, and wearables desperately need more of that.
AI is the bridge, but only if people trust it
AI is rapidly becoming the bridge between sensor and human. Oura’s in-app assistant, WHOOP’s AI coach and Fitbit’s summaries all attempt to turn noise into patterns and patterns into guidance. WHOOP now even asks users to upload bloodwork to deepen its interpretation engine, pointing to the next stage of data sourcing. AI in many cases is working to drive deeper use, like WHOOP’s new Advanced Labs Uploads feature that allows members to link their blood test results with biometric data for AI-powered coaching insights for free.
As a WHOOP user, I’ve been fascinated by the arrival of the AI coach, but in this unfamiliar world, I often stare at the blinking prompt unsure what to ask or what to do with the responses. Brands are going to have to address that uncertainty pretty soon if Gartner’s predictions are anything to go by. Their reports suggest that by 2026, over 60% of healthcare organizations are expected to deploy conversational AI in some capacity. They also project that AI agents and virtual agents could manage up to 75% of routine healthcare interactions by 2030.
If AI is going to guide behaviour, it has to feel like a companion rather than a diagnosis machine. That is a brand and design problem. Telling users what’s happening is like trying to complete a puzzle with only half the pieces. People don’t want surprises when it comes to their health. They want clarity. The sheer amount of new information might be interesting, especially to early adopters, but where and how a user can act on it is the key.
Crossing the chasm requires cultural fluency
To achieve mass adoption, wearables must become culturally fluent. They can’t look, sound or behave like mini smartphones. They need to become objects people want to wear, not just tools they tolerate. That means moving beyond the aesthetic norms of consumer electronics and taking cues from jewellery, fashion and personal identity.
It also means creative risk. Oura’s Chief Design Officer, Miklu Silvanto, said recently that “good advertising and good design have to feel like a risk to a degree,” and he’s right. You don’t influence culture by playing it safe. WHOOP leans on a Nike-like playbook, using athlete personalities to build legitimacy. Oura has leveraged high profile brand partnerships with the likes of Gucci and Harrods. Apple leans on safety, trust and universality.
All three approaches work because they understand who they’re speaking to and what emotional job their product does. This is brand strategy at its core.
Wearables won’t become essential without ecosystems
A wearable becomes essential when it embeds itself in your life, when your employer subsidises it, your insurer rewards you for using it or your clinician can read its signals without friction. Partnerships determine whether a wearable remains a gadget or becomes part of health infrastructure. It’s the difference between having a product and building an ecosystem.
But ecosystems only work when the brand is strong enough to sit across health, wellness, lifestyle and culture without losing coherence. That’s why brand strategy isn’t an accessory to wearable technology, it’s the framework that makes it make sense.
The real opportunity: making health feel human
The future of wearables isn’t clinical, and it isn’t purely technical. Too often, technology fails to understand that human interest is messier than the inventor’s intention. The future belongs to brands that can turn complex signals into clarity, make AI feel empathetic, design experiences that change behaviour and earn trust through transparency, tone and consistency.
It will take effort from both sides of the chasm, with wearable brands showing up in the clinical world with intent and healthcare providers recognising that wearable data has a place in their diagnosis.
When brand, design and technology work in unison, wearables stop feeling like gadgets. They become companions that help us understand ourselves, act earlier and live better.
If you belong to a company in this space, your focus shouldn’t simply be selling hardware. It should be closing the gap between everyday life and clinical care while making preventative health feel natural. Ultimately, the goal is to redefine how we relate to our own bodies. That is the opportunity ahead, and it won’t be captured through sensors alone.








