The big idea: A fitness studio that drains your parents’ 401k if you slack off
A big idea to get a six pack, possibly at the cost of your relationship with your parents.
I started going to fitness classes this year. I’ve noticed that nearly all of them subtly build social pressure into the workout. It’s kind of embarrassing when you’re in a room full of people, all of whom can see you in the giant mirror, and you’re the only one taking a knee during the planks.
I think the most effective social shaming is done at Orangetheory. If you’ve never been: they put a livestream of everybody’s heart rate on a wall, and you look like an idiot if you slow down. The combination of shame and competitiveness hacks my brain, and I work out much harder than I’d do on my own.
But there’s no real consequence to slowing down. Shame is a good motivator, but maybe it’d help to add money? Introducing: Sweat Equity, a workout class that shames and financially punishes you when your heart rate falls below the target.
Stickk was the original
This isn’t a totally new idea.
After Freakonomics was published in 2005, a wave of pop behavioral economics companies sprang up. One prominent idea was Stickk.com: essentially, you’d make a commitment and put some money on the line. If you lost 15 pounds, you’d get your $200 back. If you didn’t lose the 15 pounds, the $200 went to a charity you opposed.1 The smart part was that you designated a friend to confirm you stuck to your commitment, adding social pressure to the financial pressure.
This may work on some level — I commit to go to fitness class 3x a week and my friend confirms I went — but it’s a classic example of a metric that can be hacked. Why not just walk during the sprints? Grab the 3lb dumbbells? The only person you’re hurting is yourself, but getting the $200 back certainly softens the sting.
Sweat Equity does it better
The heart rate monitoring at Orangetheory has one flaw: a shameless person can stay anonymous in the crowd, because nobody really knows who on the board corresponds to who in the studio.2
Sweat Equity fixes this oversight. Instead of showing names, individuals in low heart rate zones have their box replaced with a livestream of them slacking off. Overlaid on their picture are flashing shame statements; think “this person is lazy” and “Jeff thinks you’re a sucker for running, are you going to take that?” If they pick it up, they get the carrot — anonymity, after a quick “Oh good, James finally got it together” message across the screen.
But social shame isn’t enough. Attendees need to risk financial ruin for results.
When signing up for Sweat Equity, customers link their bank account to the studio. The studio takes the heart rates of the class and sets an average; anyone two standard deviations below the mean starts having their bank account drained. The fine escalates exponentially to up the pressure. If you goof off the whole class, you could leave with 25% of your checking account gone.
Yet, this isn’t enough to guarantee a six pack. Phony fitness freaks could easily manipulate their checking account balance before class, or even keep a decoy ‘workout account’ to get around the system. We need a pool of money that’s un-gameable: your 401(k).
Why a 401(k) is the perfect fitness motivator
A 401(k) is an underratedly powerful fitness motivator.
First, it’s hard to fake. You can’t just open a 401(k) on your own; you typically have a single account offered through your employer. Once you log in, you’re locked in.
Second, contributions are capped annually. If you max out your 401(k) and lose it to your fitness class, that’s it — there’s no more you can add, and your retirement is delayed.
And most importantly, it’s expensive. Early withdrawal of your 401(k) is a double tax whammy: you’re taxed on the amount as income, plus a 10% early withdrawal penalty. That’s a potentially huge tax bill that adds insult to injury.
Combined, these dynamics make early distributions of your 401(k) extremely painful. Not only are you paying extra tax and losing the tax advantages of a 401(k), you’re still working out — which means that you’ll live longer, and miss the 401(k) savings more as you get older.
Unfortunately, this dynamic directly hurts the business proposition of Sweat Equity. Not because of the financial pain, but because Americans overall have significantly underinvested in their retirement accounts. 57% of Americans have no retirement savings, and four in five have less than 1 year’s salary saved. And while fitness participation closely correlates with income, we don’t want to exclude low savers from their chance at getting abs.
Luckily, there is a population that has 401(k) assets and are in a position to push the clientele to work harder: their parents.
Putting your parent’s retirement on the line for gains
Here’s how it works: when you sign up for classes, your parents are given a secure link to log into their Fidelity account. In the fine print, they agree to monetarily contribute to your health outcomes.
The same dynamics are at play in class — if your heart rate falls too far behind everyone else, a fine starts racking up on mom’s 401(k). But to really drive it home, the class automatically texts your parents with live updates of the penalties you’re accruing.
If you don’t shape up quickly, the class will automatically stop the music and FaceTime your parents. The instructor starts speaking: “Mrs. Smith? I’m sorry you have to sell the vacation house, but Andy just doesn’t seem to want it enough.” Not only will the shame, disappointment, and worry in your parents' faces push you, but the whole class will get to hear about what a disappointment you are. Better start running.
This version of Sweat Equity hits every behavioral science button there is. This is the ultimate in fitness-forward public shaming — not only is the instructor calling attention to you, your parents are watching you destroy their retirement live. Worse, everyone in the class will know that you’re costing your parents their financial security. You’re going to look like a jerk if you don’t start doing the burpees.
“But wait,” you may ask, “why would anybody come back to this class after costing their parents their retirement trip to Italy?” Sweat Equity has a secret: if your heart rate is in the top 25% of the class, it refunds 10% of the total retirement savings you’ve lost your parents. This not only creates a permanent customer — you’re unlikely to pull off 10 classes without any slacking off — but raises the overall fitness standards for the class.
In a group of people in trouble with their parents, the average heart rate is going to skyrocket as they compete for the chance to get re-invited to Thanksgiving.
Official idea rating
2/5. Charitably, it’s deceptive to your parents, and uncharitably, it’s a fitness studio designed to rob the elderly. But either way, it’d probably get you pretty fit.
I do think there’s a gap in the ultra-fitness market; tough mudders, iron mans, and triathlons were once the domain of some guy in your office and not just fitness freaks. Ultra fitness could come back — there just needs to be a little motivation. Hopefully, the fitness industry comes up with ways to get a beach body without needing to risk mom’s beach house.
Think the opposing party’s presidential candidate
Yes, I did generate an AI copy of a heart rate board in order to not embarrass anyone real
I'm sure experiences vary (and are exaggerated for effect) but I've never felt the slightest social pressure at Orangetheory and I'm far from the top HR zone.
This is so funny!!