I have been working in health and fitness for thirty-seven years. In that time I have given a great deal of dietary advice. I have explained macronutrients. I have talked through protocols. I have presented test results. I have been, at various points, convincing, authoritative, evidence-backed, and passionate about what the research says.
And I have watched people nod, genuinely engage, understand exactly what I was telling them — and then continue doing exactly what they were doing before.
Not because they were stupid. Not because they didn’t care. But because changing information is easy. Changing programming is not.
The Neurological Reality
There is a well-established principle in motor learning: correcting an existing movement pattern requires significantly more repetitions than learning a new one from scratch. The neural pathway for the wrong movement already exists. It is grooved in. Every repetition of the incorrect pattern deepens the groove. Teaching a boxer to change the angle of their jab after ten years of throwing it one way is not the same as teaching a beginner. The brain has to suppress the established pathway and build a new one simultaneously. It is harder, slower, and requires far more deliberate attention than people expect.
The same is true for health beliefs. “Cholesterol is bad.” “Fat makes you fat.” “Ask your doctor.” “There’s a pill for that.” These are not opinions. They are neural grooves worn in by decades of repetition — school curricula, media headlines, government dietary guidelines, dinner table conversations, and the accumulated weight of cultural consensus. Presenting someone with evidence that contradicts these beliefs does not automatically change the belief. It creates cognitive dissonance. And cognitive dissonance is uncomfortable. The most efficient resolution of cognitive dissonance is not changing the belief — it is dismissing the evidence.
This is not a character flaw. It is how learning and belief systems work in the human brain. Understanding this changes how I approach clinical practice — and it should change how anyone approaches their own health journey.
The Post-Meal Sweet Craving
Here is a specific example that comes up constantly in clinic. Someone tells me they “need” something sweet after every evening meal. They know it is probably not helping them. They have tried to stop. They cannot. They conclude they have no willpower.
They do not have a willpower problem. They have multiple simultaneous problems that all express as the same behaviour — and addressing the behaviour without addressing the problems produces nothing except guilt.
The clinical picture: food that did not produce adequate satiety at the meal, so appetite signalling is already running. Blood sugar that rose and is now falling — the post-prandial dip that the brain interprets as urgency. Gut function that did not complete digestion adequately, producing discomfort that the person has learned — over years — is soothed by something sweet. And layered over all of that, a conditioned reward expectation built through thousands of repetitions: meal ends, sweet follows. The two are now neurologically linked.
Addressing the willpower does nothing. Addressing the biology and the conditioning simultaneously does something. But the conditioning element — the neural groove — does not disappear quickly. It fades through consistent repetition of the alternative. This takes weeks to months, not days. Most people stop during the weeks-to-months phase and conclude that it is not working.
The work that takes the longest is the work that produces the most lasting change. This is not motivational language. It is simply how the nervous system learns.
Practitioner Bias and Cognitive Dissonance
Here is the thing that most practitioners will not write about, because it is uncomfortable. Practitioners have programming too.
I have seen clients who had been told for years by well-intentioned practitioners that a plant-based diet was optimal — clients whose biology is clearly not suited to it, whose test results show patterns consistent with inadequate protein and chronic blood sugar instability, whose symptoms significantly worsened after making the change. And I have seen the reverse: people pushed toward high-fat, very low-carbohydrate approaches whose metabolism is parasympathetically dominant and who genuinely thrive on complex carbohydrates — who felt flat, constipated, and miserable on the “optimal” diet they had been prescribed.
The practitioner is not necessarily wrong about the research. They may be entirely right that the approach they are recommending has good evidence behind it. The problem is that they are applying evidence from populations to an individual, filtered through their own ideological preference, and calling the result personalised medicine. It is not. Personalised medicine starts with the individual in front of you — their biology, their test results, their history — not with a protocol the practitioner believes in and fits the person to.
When a client tells you their energy improved significantly when they started eating more red meat, and your ideology makes that impossible to accept, that is cognitive dissonance. The clinical response is to investigate — to look at the testing, to understand why this person’s biology might be responding this way — not to double down on the recommendation. But the ideological response is to dismiss. And in clinical practice, dismissal costs the client results.
The Resistant Client
The most professionally uncomfortable truth I can share from thirty-seven years of clinical practice is this: the clients who gave me the hardest time are often the ones who produced the best long-term outcomes.
The client who questioned everything. Who pushed back on every recommendation. Who seemed constitutionally unable to just follow the protocol without interrogating it first. Who occasionally made me feel, if I am honest, that they did not trust me.
These clients are not difficult because of a character flaw. They are resistant because their programming is strong and their critical faculties are active. They are not going to change simply because I told them to. They are going to change when they understand why — when the reasoning is sound enough to begin overwriting the existing groove. And because they engage so thoroughly with the reasoning, when they do change, they change in a way that sticks.
The Titanic does not turn quickly. But it turns. And every small comment that lands, every piece of evidence that makes sense, every clinical change they can feel in their own body — each of these is a small victory. They add up. Slowly, then all at once.
The clients who nod and agree with everything and then continue exactly as before are not easier clients. They are clients in whom nothing is moving. The friction from the resistant client is the friction of actual engagement. That engagement is what produces durable change.
What This Means Practically
If you are trying to change something about your own health, and you are finding it harder than the advice suggested it should be — consider that the issue may not be your willpower, your motivation, or your character. It may be that the thing you are trying to change is genuinely deep. That it has neurological roots. That it is connected to beliefs and patterns that were established long before you started trying to change them.
The appropriate response to that is not to push harder using the same approach. It is to slow down, understand the programming that is making the change difficult, and address that alongside the dietary or lifestyle change itself. Behaviour without understanding fades. Understanding without behaviour stays theoretical. Both together are what produces lasting change.
I test before I guess, and I ask before I assume. The test results show me what is happening in the biology. The conversations — the real conversations, not the ones where someone tells me what they think I want to hear — show me the programming. Both matter. Both need addressing. In the right order, with patience, and without the expectation that the longest-established patterns will change the most quickly.
Related readingIf you are working on health change and finding the programming element particularly significant — particularly around food, stress, and beliefs about what is possible — the psychology of change section in Test, Don’t Guess covers this in clinical depth. The WTRHR book goes further into the practitioner side of this conversation.