Exploring the space between science and self.

Tag: human behavior

The Big Three: A Framework for Prioritizing Health

There is no shortage of health information.

Open your phone, turn on the television, browse social media, or walk through a bookstore, and you’ll find an endless stream of advice.

Most of it isn’t wrong. In fact, much of it is genuinely useful. The problem is that it all competes for the same attention. When every article, podcast, influencer, and advertisement claims to hold another important piece of the puzzle, it becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish the foundational from the optional.

Some people become overwhelmed and stop trying altogether.

Others head in the opposite direction—pursuing increasingly smaller optimizations while overlooking the habits that produce the greatest return.

Health itself hasn’t become more complicated.

The human body hasn’t fundamentally changed.

Our attention has.


Most people already possess a surprising amount of health knowledge.

Ask someone what contributes to good health and you’ll likely hear familiar answers:

  • Sleep
  • Exercise
  • Eat well
  • Manage stress
  • Don’t smoke
  • Limit alcohol

They’re not starting from zero. The challenge isn’t a lack of information. It’s understanding the hierarchy of that information. Not all health information deserves the same amount of our attention. Some ideas meaningfully shape health. Others produce modest improvements. Some are only relevant under specific circumstances.  And some simply distract from what matters most.

When we lose sight of those differences, everything begins to feel equally important. Ironically, that’s when progress often slows.

Because when everything becomes a priority…

Nothing really is.


Rather than asking, “What’s the best thing I can do?”

a better question might be: “What are the largest things I can influence?”

That distinction matters.

Not everything that influences health is within our control.
Genetics matter. Environmental exposures matter. Access to healthcare matters. Life circumstances matter. Randomness matters.

But many of those variables are only partially—or not at all—under our control.

Instead of chasing complete control over our health, we should focus on maximizing the variables we can meaningfully influence.

Our goal isn’t perfect health.

It’s to consistently move the odds in our favor with the variables we can actually influence.


This idea resembles the logic behind Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Before pursuing higher-level goals, we first satisfy the foundation. You don’t build a house starting with the roof. You don’t install drywall before pouring the concrete. The foundation isn’t exciting. But it determines how well everything else performs.

Health works much the same way. There is a difference between building health and optimizing health.

Optimization has become incredibly popular.
Cold plunges. Continuous glucose monitors. Supplement stacks. Longevity protocols.

Many of these have contexts where they may provide value. But they should never compete with the foundation for your time, attention, or energy.

The foundation comes first.

Everything else is built upon it.


For most people, three habits account for a disproportionate share of the health we can actually influence.

The Big Three

  • Sleep
  • Movement
  • Nutrition

Surprised? Probably not.

Good.

This isn’t about introducing something you’ve never heard before. It’s about revisiting familiar ideas and organizing them into a clearer hierarchy.

These aren’t the only things that influence health. They’re simply the best place to start. Because they influence nearly everything else.

Energy. Recovery. Mood. Metabolic health. Hormonal regulation. Cognitive performance. Physical function.

Sleep provides the opportunity for the body and brain to recover, repair, regulate hormones, consolidate memories, and prepare for the demands of the next day.

Movement preserves physical function, improves cardiovascular and metabolic health, strengthens muscles and bones, supports mental well-being, and helps maintain independence throughout life.

Nutrition supplies the energy and building blocks the body needs to function, recover, adapt, and protect itself from disease.

We’ll explore each of these topics in much greater depth throughout the following articles.

Without first addressing the Big Three, trying to identify the source of a health problem can become like searching for the source of a smell in a landfill.

The problem isn’t that the answer isn’t there. It’s that too many variables are competing for your attention before the foundation has been addressed.

The signal is buried beneath unnecessary noise.


Knowing what matters is only half the equation. The other half is understanding how to approach it.

Nearly every practical recommendation we’ll discuss can be filtered through three simple questions:

How well?

How much?

How often?

Or, stated another way:

Quality.

Quantity.

Consistency.

Let’s refer to this as The Health Triad.

This isn’t another rule. It’s a lens. A framework for evaluating nearly every future health discussion.

Whenever new information appears, ask yourself: Is this improving the quality, quantity, or consistency of one of the Big Three? Or is it simply another variable competing for attention?


Health recommendations are built around patterns that consistently help the greatest number of people.

They are probabilities—not absolutes. There will always be exceptions. Some people become ill despite doing almost everything right. Others remain healthy despite years of poor habits.

Individual stories matter. But they don’t replace population-level evidence.

Our responsibility is to make decisions based on what reliably shifts the odds in our favor, while remaining humble enough to recognize that certainty doesn’t exist.


Health information will continue to grow. New supplements will appear. New diets will emerge. New technologies will promise better outcomes.

None of those things are inherently bad.
But they should always be evaluated in relation to the foundation.

When the foundation is strong, optimization becomes more meaningful.
When the foundation is weak, optimization often becomes distraction.

We don’t control every outcome.
We influence the probability of outcomes.

And for most people, very few habits influence those probabilities more than sleep, movement, and nutrition. Everything that follows builds from that foundation.

Health doesn’t become confusing because we know too little.
It becomes confusing because we struggle to distinguish the foundational from the marginal.

The purpose of the Big Three isn’t to tell you everything that matters.
It’s to make sure you never lose sight of what matters most.
To restore hierarchy to the countless ideas competing for your attention.

Hyperoptimization and Diminishing Returns

🟡

“The perfect is the enemy of the good.” — Voltaire

Sometimes the pursuit of health starts to shift focus.

We begin by wanting to feel better. More energy. Less pain. Better mobility. Improved labs. More experiences. More years with the people we love.

These are reasonable goals.

But somewhere along the way, many people drift from pursuing health toward pursuing optimization. Those are not always the same thing.

Modern health culture often creates the impression that every variable and topic deserves equal attention. Every ingredient, every supplement, every meal timing strategy, every recovery tool, every environmental exposure, and every new biological “hack.”

But the human system does not weigh everything equally.

Some variables matter tremendously.

Others matter only slightly—if at all.

The difference between sleeping four hours and sleeping eight hours.

The difference between being sedentary and moderately active.

The difference between eating mostly nutrient-dense foods and eating mostly ultra-processed foods.

These are among the highest-return investments we can make in the health of the human system.

Yet once our foundational needs are reasonably met, the return on additional optimization often begins to shrink.

Not because nuance is meaningless. Not because marginal variables are useless.

But because our biology appears to reach a point of diminishing returns.

The foundational improvements tend to create the largest changes. Later improvements often require more effort for increasingly smaller outcomes.

This pattern is not unique to health.

The difference between no maintenance and routine maintenance on a vehicle is enormous.

The difference between routine maintenance and elite performance modifications is comparatively small.

Yet modern health culture frequently convinces people that the performance modifications are the priority.

This inversion creates confusion.

People begin obsessing over electrolyte packets, supplement stacks, peptides, cold plunges, seed oils, greens powders, red light therapy, and countless other strategies that promise incremental improvements.

Experimentation on top of a foundation of fundamentals is perfectly reasonable.

Deprioritizing adequate sleep, regular movement, sound nutrition, stress management, and other foundational behaviors in favor of that experimentation is not.

We also must consider the cost of optimization.

Every health strategy requires an investment of time, money, energy, attention, or mental bandwidth. As those investments grow, we should continually ask whether the benefits are truly worth what they displace.

Sometimes they are.

Often, they probably aren’t.

The body is influenced by nuance, but it is governed by fundamentals.

And unfortunately, fundamentals are difficult to market.

Sleep is not exciting.

Walking is not exciting.

Managing stress is not exciting.

Eating enough protein and vegetables is not exciting.

Consistency is not exciting.

These things are simple, repetitive, and often unremarkable. There is no secret knowledge attached to them. No exclusive club.

Marginal optimization, however, feels advanced. It creates endless discussion. Endless products. Endless content. And endless opportunities for monetization.

There was a demand for optimization, and naturally, a market emerged to meet it.

This is where the topic can easily start to sound cynical or conspiratorial, but that’s not necessarily the case. It’s simply the reality created by the right combination of variables.

As discussed in Back to the Primitive: Swapping Intensity for Intent

These systems didn’t emerge from a singular malicious intent.

They are the natural result of:

  • Consumer preference
  • Technological advancement
  • Economic incentive

This is where many people unknowingly become trapped. Not necessarily in poor health behaviors, but in the psychological burden of excessive optimization.

This happens when our perspective causes us weigh everything equally.

Diminishing returns are not just physiological.

They can become psychological. Logistical. Financial. Social.

A strategy that provides a tiny physiological benefit may simultaneously increase stress, consume time, create anxiety, complicate schedules, strain relationships, or reduce enjoyment of life.

At that point, we have to ask an important question: Is the tradeoff worth it?

Because health does not exist in isolation from life.

The purpose of health is not to become imprisoned by routines, fear, or perfectionism.

The purpose of health is function. Freedom. Resilience. Presence.

The ability to participate more fully in life.

Optimization becomes problematic when the pursuit itself begins consuming the life it was meant to improve. It can also become self-perpetuating as people lose sight of the difference between foundational practices and marginal refinements.

This idea echoes Goodhart’s Law: “When a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure.”

Health metrics are useful because they point us toward better health. But when optimizing the metrics becomes the primary objective, it’s easy to lose sight of why they mattered in the first place.

This does not mean nuance is irrelevant.

Elite athletes may care deeply about marginal gains. Certain medical conditions may require highly specific strategies. Some people genuinely enjoy optimization as a hobby.

There is nothing inherently wrong with that.

But for most people, the overwhelming majority of meaningful health outcomes are likely driven by foundational variables:

Sleep.

Movement.

Nutrition.

Stress management.

Relationships.

Purpose.

Avoiding major destructive behaviors.

These are the big rocks.

Everything else exists around them, like sand and pebbles that fill in the spaces between the monoliths.

Modern wellness culture often sells the final 5% as though it were the first 95%.

But most people would experience dramatically greater benefit by improving the fundamentals they already know matter.

Not perfectly. Just consistently.

Because the goal is not perfect health.

The goal is to build a life that health supports—not one that health consumes.

To use health as a means of better experiencing life.

Sometimes the healthiest thing we can do is stop trying to optimize every variable and start living the life our health was meant to support.

After all, the perfect is often the enemy of the good.

Human Stat Points and the Reality of Change

🔴🟡

Learning, improvement, and growth are built-in parts of the human experience.

From the moment we are born, we are constantly developing skills, behaviors, habits, beliefs, and ways of navigating the world. This process is influenced by family, environment, education, work, relationships, hobbies, interests, and countless other variables.

Interestingly, this process is not entirely unlike what we experience in many games.

In the gaming world, it is common to begin with a character that has a pre-loaded distribution of traits and attributes. Strengths and weaknesses. We then work to change that distribution. As the game unfolds, we gradually invest points into the areas we wish to improve or that become important to the way we play.

Human beings are remarkably similar.

Our consistent traits and habits are somewhat similar to stat points in a video game.

Over time, different behaviors and tendencies become more or less developed depending on environment, awareness, repetition, stress, social connections, personality, upbringing, resources, and circumstance.

Hydration. Daily movement. Sleep consistency. Cooking at home. Protein intake. Time outdoors. Emotional regulation. Walking. Resistance training. Deep breathing. Boundary setting. Interrupting sitting. Limiting alcohol. Meaningful conversation. Stress management. Recovery.

Some of these habits become strengthened naturally through supportive environments, passive reinforcement, and intentional growth.

Others deteriorate through neglect, chronic stress, injury, aging, trauma, circumstance, or poorly engineered modern environments.

If we are aware of the ability to increase these attributes—we can start to pursue change in a more realistic and meaningful way.  

A way that makes sense regarding the currently available resources in our actual life.

Sustainable consistency—not infrequent perfection.


This is where the Human Stat Points framework becomes useful.

Imagine life as a collection of sliders within various categories.
Health. Career. Parenting. Relationships. Finances. Recreation. Learning. Household responsibilities.

At any given moment, you possess a limited pool of resources to distribute among them.
Time. Energy. Attention. Motivation. Recovery capacity. Mental bandwidth. Emotional bandwidth.

The mistake many people make is assuming every slider should be maxed out all the time.

Reality does not work that way.

A new parent may temporarily invest more points into parenting and fewer into fitness.

Someone building a business may allocate more points toward work and fewer toward leisure.

Someone recovering from illness may need to direct points toward healing while other areas temporarily receive less attention.

These tradeoffs are not necessarily failures. They are often reflections of reality.
Life requires resource allocation. This does not mean improvement is impossible.

It means improvement must be prioritized.

Every meaningful change requires resources.
Time. Attention. Effort. Recovery.

Which means every “yes” is also a quiet “not right now” to something else.

Mature change is often less about adding everything and more about deciding what deserves investment during a particular season of life.

Most beneficial health recommendations are commonly known.
Walk more. Sleep more. Exercise more. Cook more. Read more. Connect more. Stress less. Spend more time outside. Prepare more meals at home. Limit alcohol. Lift weights. Do cardio. Practice mindfulness.

Each recommendation sounds reasonable in isolation, but they are presented to us as a package.

The burden comes from accumulation.

Every recommendation draws from the same finite pool of resources. Eventually the demands exceed available capacity. And what is often interpreted as laziness can simply be resource depletion.

Many people assume they are failing because they cannot do everything. In reality, they are attempting to satisfy more obligations than their current capacity allows.

This is one reason health advice often feels simultaneously helpful and overwhelming.

Each individual recommendation may be beneficial. But when dozens of beneficial recommendations are stacked together, they begin to feel like obligations rather than opportunities.

Over time, health transforms from a source of support into a source of burden.
And burden changes behavior.

It’s easer to mentally deprioritize something when it seemingly becomes more of a burden than a benefit. When people feel they must perform perfectly across every category, they often experience things like frustration, guilt, shame, decision fatigue, burnout, etc.

Part of the problem is that we often approach change irrationally.

Most people understand that major life changes rarely happen overnight.
Yet when it comes to behavior change, we often forget to apply that same logic.

We seek the overhaul.
The overnight transformation.
The cold turkey solution.
The resolution.

In mountaineering, climbers sometimes experience what is known as summit fever. The summit becomes the only acceptable outcome. As a result, they begin ignoring changing conditions, realistic pacing, fatigue, and risk.

Sometimes the only focus is to scratch and claw our way to the top.

Although we may know what to do, we often do not give ourselves time to figure out how to integrate the knowledge into the complexity of our unique lives.

Consistency and maintenance relies upon lived experience, not temporary application of information.

Change is incremental. It requires time. Consistency. Patience. Resilience.

If we are truly committed to change, we do not begin by sprinting toward the ideal endpoint.

We simply begin walking in the preferred direction.

Slowly. Consistently.
And we adjust as we go.

Is this the answer we want? No. But it is reality.

So why waste time on fiction?


Health is rarely a perfectly balanced character build.
Some people consistently hydrate well but struggle with sleep.
Some move regularly but overconsume alcohol.
Some eat nourishing meals but remain chronically overstimulated and mentally exhausted.
Some maintain physical health while neglecting emotional regulation and relationships.
Others struggle because the environment surrounding them creates friction against beneficial behaviors.

The goal is not perfect optimization or maxing every slider simultaneously.
The goal is not becoming biologically flawless.

The goal is gradually improving the areas where improvement is realistic, sustainable, and meaningful.
In a way that works best for the individual.
 

And importantly, awareness itself is often part of that progress.

Sometimes meaningful change begins long before behavior fully changes. Simply becoming aware of the forces influencing the system can fundamentally alter the relationship a person has with themselves.

Awareness creates the possibility of intentionality. And intentionality, repeated consistently over time, slowly begins moving the sliders.

This perspective also creates space for compassion.
Because many people are not failing due to laziness or lack of intelligence.

Often, they are attempting to distribute limited resources across an overwhelming number of competing demands while operating inside systems and environments that constantly pull beneficial habits off course.

We often think of a full list of stat points as the ideal, and we get frustrated with ourselves for not being able to achieve it.

We lose sight of how much progress we can make by just being consistent with small things and progressing as we go.

Other times we can’t keep up. Or perhaps choose not to.

That deferred maintenance can accumulate to the point of affecting the way we look at ourselves.

Eventually, people can stop viewing themselves as under-supported systems and begin viewing themselves as broken people.

One of the biggest misunderstandings in modern health culture is that people often try to negotiate directly with outputs while overlooking the inputs that influence them.

Sometimes the outputs are simply reflections of prolonged input imbalance, accumulated wear, and insufficient capacity.

And importantly:

Deferred maintenance may make things more difficult in the moment, but that doesn’t eliminate the opportunity for future improvement.

Stat points can still improve.

And that matters.

Perhaps that is the real goal of health.

Not perfection. Not optimization culture. Not becoming superior.

But understanding that life requires tradeoffs and then allocating resources intentionally according to your current reality and values.

The answer is rarely complete optimization.
The answer is rarely complete neglect.
The answer is usually found somewhere in between.

The healthiest life is rarely the most optimized life.
It is often the one that allocates its resources intentionally, adapts to changing circumstances, and continues moving in a better direction over time.

Not perfect.

Not complete.

Just progressively better.

Back to the Primitive: Swapping Intensity for Intent

The initial layer of friction we experience in the modern health environment is mismatch.

Our biology evolved over hundreds of thousands of years…
while our environment has changed rapidly in just the last century or so.

We are, in many ways, still operating on ancient wiring—
in a world that no longer resembles the one that shaped it.

But mismatch alone doesn’t fully explain how this feels.

Because the modern environment didn’t just change.

It intensified.

When the Volume Gets Turned Up

We exist in a world of access and amplification.

Food is no longer simply available—it’s engineered to be highly rewarding.
Entertainment is no longer occasional—it’s constant and personalized.
Stimulation is no longer intermittent—it’s continuous.

What used to feel like calm water…
has become a series of strong currents—
and we’re still learning how to move through it.

The Biology We Bring Into This

For most of human history, reward was a guide.

Sweetness and fat signaled energy and survival—fuel in a world where fuel was scarce.
Novelty signaled opportunity—the pull toward something new and potentially valuable.
Connection signaled safety—protection through numbers.

These weren’t luxuries.

They were signals.

At the center of this system is dopamine—not just as a pleasure chemical, but as a driver of motivation and reinforcement.

It helps us learn:

What is worth repeating?

When Reward Becomes Engineered

Modern systems have learned how to interact with these pathways through continuous refinement of what people respond to.

Food is consistently upgraded and engineered to maximize appeal.
It can now be designed to hit precise combinations of salt, sugar, fat, and texture.

The concept of the “bliss point,” developed by Howard Moskowitz, reflects this—identifying the formulation that drives the highest level of enjoyment and repeat consumption.

These foods are not just satisfying.

They are efficiently rewarding.

Easy to eat.
Easy to repeat.
Easy to overconsume.

Historically, reward required effort.

You had to move, search, scavenge, prepare, and wait.

Now, many rewards are:
Immediate
Passive
Endless

You can experience dozens of reinforcing inputs in minutes:

Scrolling
Snacking
Drinking
Watching

Individually subtle.
Collectively significant.

Digital Overstimulation as the Default

The modern environment rarely goes quiet.

Notifications.
Screens.
Background noise.
Constant input.

The result is subtle, but meaningful:

  • Mental fatigue
  • Reduced attention capacity
  • A sense of always being “on”

Not because something is wrong…

but because the system rarely gets a chance to downshift.

This Isn’t a Villain Story

It’s easy to frame this as manipulation—and we often do.

It’s a reasonable assumption.
But it misses the full picture.

These systems didn’t emerge from a singular malicious intent.

They are the natural result of:

  • Consumer preference
  • Technological advancement
  • Economic incentive

Food is optimized for taste and convenience.
Technology is optimized for engagement.

As explored in works like Salt Sugar Fat by Michael Moss, there is awareness within industries of how these factors influence behavior—but that awareness exists within a broader system shaped by demand as much as design.

As much as we like to have a scapegoat, this is less about blame.

And more about interaction.

When Intensity Meets Biology

When you place a biological system designed for variability and scarcity into a high-intensity environment, certain patterns emerge.

Not as failure.

But as adaptation.

  • Overconsumption becomes easier
  • Hunger and fullness cues become less reliable (or more easily ignored)
  • Reward sensitivity shifts, requiring more for the same effect
  • Attention becomes fragmented, and recovery becomes less complete

The system is doing what it was designed to do.
It’s just doing it in a different environment—at a much faster pace.

The environment changed faster than adaptation can reasonably occur.

Reframing the Experience

Many people interpret this as a personal shortcoming.

“I should have more discipline.”
“I need to try harder.”
“I just need to control myself.”

But that removes context.

A more accurate interpretation might be:

I’m operating in an environment that is more intense than what I’m naturally equipped to regulate.

That shift doesn’t remove responsibility—but it restores clarity.

It allows us to see the actual terrain we are navigating.

Back to the Primitive

Not as a rejection of modern life.
But as a recalibration within it.

It doesn’t mean abandoning human progress.

It means reintroducing the conditions your biology expects—
within the reality you live in.

Swapping Intensity for Intent

The goal is not to eliminate stimulation.
It’s to stop being passively shaped by it.

To move from automatic and overwhelmed
to aware and deliberate.

To become reacquainted with choice.

Not perfectly. Just more often.

A quiet, steady awareness running in the background.

Where This Begins

Not with restriction.

But with noticing.

  • Am I actually hungry, or seeking reward?
  • Did I choose this, or is it just routine?
  • What does this input actually provide?
  • Does this help the future version of me?

These aren’t rules.

They’re moments of awareness.

Context—not commands.

Small interruptions in an otherwise automatic flow.

Enjoyment is not the enemy

But being consumed by it can be.

Reintroducing Pause

Friction often feels like inconvenience.

But it can also be a regulator.
Deliberate deceleration.
A pause between impulse and action.
A moment where intention has a chance to exist.

Not as punishment.

But as space.

A space to explore choice.

A space to decide, rather than simply react.

A space to step outside the reward loop—
and allow agency to re-emerge.

So that we may swim…
rather than be pulled under by the current.

A More Accurate Standard

You were never meant to operate at this level of intensity all the time.

And the fact that it feels difficult…
is not a flaw.

It’s feedback.

Closing Thought

The modern world didn’t just give us more.

It made everything faster, easier, and more stimulating.

“Back to the primitive” isn’t about going backward.

It’s about remembering what your system was built for…

and choosing to meet it there as we move forward—

in a way that makes sense for you.

© 2026 Abstract Health

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑