The Most Overlooked Job in Health Tech: Emotional Trust
- Ashley Boyd
- May 27
- 5 min read
I've spent 15 years helping health tech companies bring breakthrough innovations to market. But I've spent far longer - nearly my whole life - navigating the healthcare system as a patient with Type 1 diabetes.
And sometimes, those two perspectives feel like they're in tension.
As a healthcare marketing strategist, I understand how hard it is to differentiate in a crowded market, to win budget conversations, and to earn provider or patient adoption. But as a patient, I know what it feels like when a product misses the emotional moment it was built for - or when it lands so powerfully, it changes the way I live.
That’s why I keep coming back to a single question.
What should innovation feel like?
Because if you're building something for patients - or the systems that serve them - it's not just the features that matter. It's the feeling. It's the confidence you create. It's the relief you deliver. It's the trust you earn.
In a system where speed often outruns empathy, emotional trust may be the most underleveraged growth lever in healthcare today.
When Innovation Changed Everything
The most powerful moments in my care didn’t come from routine labs or office visits. They came from products that made me feel seen - experiences that shifted not just my health, but my sense of agency.
My first virtual endocrinology visit at Joslin Diabetes didn't just save time - it made me feel prioritized. No sitting in a waiting room. No travel. Just direct, easy access to my provider.
A gut microbiome test from Jona Health surfaced data my PCP never looked at. It reframed how I think about energy, diet, and what "normal" really means for me.
A hormone therapy panel from Hormones by Design gave me answers I've been told didn't exist. Years of being dismissed turned into a moment of clarity.
A Cleerly scan revealed critical nuances in my heart health - the kind most primary care or even standard cardiology screens would miss. It redefined my sense of risk and the meaning of "preventive."
These weren't just diagnostic tools. They were emotional inflection points.
They didn't just optimize outcomes. They delivered something most health tech products forget to design for:
Confidence. Clarity. Relief.
That's when I realized that for patients, the most valuable feature might be how a product makes you feel.
Why We Need a New Standard
In healthcare, we talk endlessly about innovation. Faster tech, better data, smarter systems. But rarely do we ask the more human question: what it's supposed to feel like.
We measure adoption, funding, and clinical endpoints. But what if we also measured the emotional outcomes, which often translate into the moments that made someone feel seen?
Imagine if innovation were judged not just by activation rates or ROI, but by the clarity it delivers:
"I finally understand what's happening to me."
"I'm not alone in this."
"I feel empowered to act."
"This solution sees me."
These are not soft metrics. I believe these are strategic outcomes that are what differentiate meaningful products from forgettable ones.
Because patients and the systems that serve them don't measure innovation in features.
They measure it in feelings.
And those feelings become the foundation for adoption, loyalty, and trust - the very things that drive long-term growth and brand equity.
When AI Feels Human
What’s surprised me most about AI in healthcare isn’t just how powerful it is, but how personal it can feel when it’s thoughtfully designed.
One evening, I found myself wide awake. I had too much on my mind and couldn't get my mind to settle. I opened an app called Wysa.
No login friction. No sterile interface. Just a blinking cursor and a gentle prompt:
“I’m here. Want to talk?”
I didn’t expect much. But I found myself engaging — not because I needed help, but because I needed space. Space to process, reflect, and make sense of a day that didn’t quite land.
It didn’t feel robotic. It felt intentional. Grounded. Not a therapist. Not a substitute. Just a moment of connection that helped me reset.
Later, I tried Woebot — lighthearted, intelligent, and surprisingly intuitive. It used humor and well-timed prompts to meet me where I was, without forcing a fix.
And that made the experience feel safe, even… empowering.
These weren’t clinical interventions. They were emotionally intelligent tools — and that distinction matters.
And while those moments were personal, they’re not anecdotal. They point to a bigger truth:
At Headspace Health, AI helps match users with therapists based on urgency, emotional needs, and preferences, reducing wait times and increasing retention.
Aidoc’s clinical AI silently flags critical findings in real-time. Patients may never know it’s there, but they feel the impact in the words: “We caught it early.”
These tools are redesigning the emotional experience of care — quietly, respectfully, at scale.
Because as Clayton Christensen’s Jobs to Be Done theory reminds us:
People don’t just hire products to perform tasks.They hire them to help make emotional progress in their lives.
In a world full of healthcare solutions that aim to be smarter, faster, and more efficient, the ones that truly connect are those that also feel human.
And that connection — that emotional trust — doesn’t just happen.
It’s designed. It’s earned. It’s a job worth doing.
Feeling Is Data
We track impressions, conversions, CAC, and LTV. But what if we also tracked:
How many patients felt less anxious after onboarding?
How many users said, “I finally understand this”?
How often does a product make someone feel seen, not sold to?
These are not abstract ideas.
They’re signals of trust, and they can be designed for, tested, and optimized — just like any other KPI.
Because in health tech, the real conversion isn’t just activation.
It’s confidence. And the real differentiator isn’t speed; it’s emotional trust.
When we start treating emotion as both a design principle and a growth lever, we don’t just improve adoption. We elevate the entire experience of care.
What We Build Next
The future of healthcare will absolutely be powered by AI, but it must be led by people who remember what it feels like to be on the other side.
Not just to buy but to wait. To wonder. To feel uncertainty… and then, finally, relief.
Innovation shouldn’t just optimize. It should comfort. It should empower. It should feel like care.
Let’s Talk About Emotional Trust in Health Tech
If you’re building a solution that aims to make patients feel more confident, more seen, or more understood, I’d love to help bring it to market with a strategy rooted in empathy, not just efficiency.
Let’s build what trust feels like.
