The new Netflix sensation, Apple Cider Vinegar, is inspired by a true story but is not an entirely accurate portrayal, with new characters added and certain events fictionalised. “This is a true story based on a lie,” we’re reminded, as the cast breaks the fourth wall at the start of every episode.
The next line, “Belle Gibson has not been paid for the recreation of her story”, is music to the ears of anyone who has watched the show – or has even just heard the story.
The series covers the story of Belle Gibson, an Australian Influencer who amassed an impressive following on @healing_belle, sharing her diagnosis of terminal brain cancer and journey back to health using holistic and nutritional measures. Her cult following led to the launch of a pioneering app, ‘The Whole Pantry,’ which shot to the top of the app charts, sharing nurturing recipes and wellness guides, inspiring others to take their health into their own hands, just as she had without the help of western medicine. Pocketing her over 1 million AUD and the support of Apple, the app soon became a book as she signed a deal with none other than Penguin, bringing her content to print at the height of her success.
The catch? Belle Gibson never had cancer.
As a viewer, I always lap up a scam series or investigative journalism takedown, but Apple Cider Vinegar hit particularly close to home for me. As someone who has seen several family members go through cancer treatment, Apple Cider Vinegar was a difficult watch. A triggering one with its particularly vivid portrayals of what it’s like to go through chemotherapy and the emotional depiction of the turmoil for everyone involved. But I don’t even think you’d need first-hand experience to feel the horror of this scandal.
In 2015, when the revelation emerged that Gibson had lied about the foundation on which she had built her empire, headlines announcing that Penguin had not fact-checked her cancer diagnosis left a lot of people astonished. Hindsight is powerful though. Without knowing the fallout, would you question that someone would lie about something as grim as having cancer? However, there is another implication for the world of wellness here—a big one. Many viewers now say that if this story doesn’t make you realise the wellbeing industry is a scam, what will?
Apple cider vinegar—the bottled variety—doesn’t get much airtime in the series, save for a seemingly throwaway anecdote, which we’ll come back to. But it’s actually hugely symbolic. Well, in my interpretation.
It’s been around forever as a simple ingredient for cooking, mainly used in dressings and marinades, adding a zing with its sour taste. However, the surge of social media saw the product emerge as huge wellbeing trend, and its popularity has steadily grown since. Due to claims surrounding several health benefits - including weight loss and balancing cholesterol - whether raw and unfiltered, in a sparkling beverage, or in the form of a gummy, you can buy it. Now, there is some evidence that apple cider vinegar has health benefits, but further research is needed to confirm several of the claims. Yet it’s still a leading product in a booming industry which many consume daily.
Being undoubtedly one of the breakout stars in the wellbeing industry, the Netflix show writers knew what they were doing by naming the show as they did. With many knowing the product’s name and popularity, the writers have hinted that the show digs deeper than the actions of one individual, they’re telling us that Gibson’s actions represent the problems in the industry.
The last episode gives, in my opinion, one of the best examples of this show representing a bigger issue in the wellbeing industry. Crisis Manager, Hek, (most likely a fictional addition) shares some bold claims from Gibson that apple cider vinegar is a cure for a very confusing ailment.
“…she told me how she looked in the mirror one night and she was covered in ringworm. She said someone on the internet recommended some apple cider vinegar. I don’t think it was a medical doctor. And she wants these ringworms gone, so she’s chugging it back, chugging it real fast. And then she starts to choke. There’s something inside her. She’s got to get it out. And then… Tapeworm. She swore to me, two feet long at least. She said the tapeworm was attracted to the vinegar and that it flushed it out, which makes no physical sense at all. Ringworm isn’t caused by tapeworm. Ringworm is a fungus. Tapeworm comes out of you’re a**, not your mouth. – But still, is that not magic? Drink a little bit of this stuff and you’re all cleansed. Pure again. I mean, how hopeful is that?”
What this demonstrates is that Gibson has an undeniable lack of knowledge. And worse, she shared it. This individual shared health and wellbeing advice online. For anyone to hear - and specifically, actual cancer patients. Yet her medical knowledge was minimal at best. For what it’s worth, apple cider vinegar is not supported by medical professionals for the treatment of ringworm, nor tapeworm for that matter. And the only similarities between the two are four letters in the names.
Rather than a critique of the consumer or those who took the advice of Gibson, the show makes us question why we are listening without knowing where anyone got their information. Why are we buying products without knowing the scientific validity behind the descriptions? Why do we invest in things without knowing if they have ever been tested?
Gibson’s downfall was 10 years ago now – a time when 200,000 followers were comparable to present-day millions. This individual had access to a huge number of followers with whom she shared a lot of information. She had people downloading apps and paying for her book. Even before the cultural shift, this scandal was enormous, yet the growth of social media has still beckoned the growth of unfounded wellbeing claims. With even more of us active on social media today and influencer culture at its height, it is more important than ever to learn from this story and consume content with extreme caution, given that misinformation is rife. The potential reach is certainly a concern to be aware of.
Ultimately, Gibson – real life and fictional - was caught out when her philanthropic claims failed to materialise as charities she had pledged, and families she promised to support didn’t receive the funds. Stars aligned for those who had started to raise concerns surrounding the fidelity of her illness as this media outrage opened the door for further questioning. What else could she be lying about? Does she even have cancer?
And just like that - poof - Gibson's stardom came crashing down in an instant.
Netflix’s recreation isn’t just a form of entertainment. It’s a warning sign of what we believe and who we trust information from. That’s not necessarily to say that the whole industry is bad at its core, it just needs to be treated with extreme caution.
Part of its strength is that the series shows us the real damage that can be done and the danger of misinformation, even in a time when social media platforms were in their infancy. It serves as a cold, stark reminder, not to take everything at face value, especially given the fallout could be even worse now.
The deplorable fact is that Gibson managed to build a platform based on fiction and ultimately profited from an extremely vulnerable population. People’s lives were at stake at the cost of her actions, and cancer, quite frankly, is not something to mess around with. Sadly, she still hasn’t been held to account for her actions, but the success of the new show demonstrates that she will never be let off lightly.