I’ve been obsessed with sneakers since I was a boy.
Growing up in the nineties, perhaps the “Golden Age” of athletic footwear, there was nothing I looked forward to more than opening up a box of crisp new “kicks”—endorsed and sported by my athletic heroes of the day—and lacing them up, literally believing that, by doing so, I would absorb some of their superhuman abilities whenever I walked on to the court, track, or field.
Not only that, but the athletes I looked up to at the time seemed to embody a swagger, a natural and unmanufactured coolness, away from their respective playing fields that emanated the kind of success and charisma that I wished to develop myself—and so, putting their sneakers on my own feet was a way to channel this energy as well.
Perhaps no other cultural figure at that time (or since) personified this ideal better than Michael Jordan.
Not only did he display an otherworldly talent on the court—one that transcended the realm of sports altogether—but off the court he was graceful with his fans, a class-act with the press, relentless in the gym, and he demonstrated a business acumen never before seen in an athlete.
He was my idol.
And the genius of his long-time sneaker designer Tinker Hatfield, along with the brilliant marketing strategists at Nike, convinced me—along with millions of other young men (and women)—that by purchasing a new pair of Air Jordans every year, I could one day grow up to “Be Like Mike.”
Sadly, this obsession with sneakers, and his in particular, lasted well past my coming of age—until my early thirties, in fact.
However, after thousands of dollars spent essentially trying to buy back my childhood, I finally decided that I would sell the many pairs I had accumulated throughout the years and never purchase one again.
While a large part of this decision was driven by some intense philosophical deliberations I had been having in my own head regarding the nature of consumerism and materialism, a great deal of my thought process was also influenced by my research into the evolution of the human body, biomechanics, and the history of footwear.
As it turns out, many of the problems we modern humans have regarding our poor posture, lack of mobility, and increased injury rates are exacerbated by the fact that, going on hundreds of years now, the shoes we have been putting on our feet have been designed less for practical function and much more for fashion and status, including today’s athletic sneakers.
The accumulated result has been population-wide foot deformities negatively impacting the way that we move and how we feel.
And yet, instead of correcting the initial errors, we have continued to build around them, using our technological advancements to mask serious design flaws, all for the sake of fashion, comfort and convenience.
The 5 main detrimental features of modern footwear are:
1.) The elevated heel.
2.) The narrow toe-box.
3.) The forefoot toe-spring.
4.) Thick, cushioned insoles.
5.) Bulky, inflexible outsoles.
Now, before I go into just why these staples of modern footwear design are so harmful to our overall physical health, it’s important that we understand just how they came to dominate the conventional thinking when it comes to how shoes are constructed.
The earliest known use of an elevated heel comes from ancient Iran (Persia) in the 10th century CE.
Persian cavalrymen would charge toward their enemies standing up in their saddles in order to fire their bows and arrows; and, to better facilitate this difficult task, a heel was incorporated into their shoes, so that they could “lock” them into the stirrups.
This is the practical reason for adding an elevated heel to footwear and, since the majority of the human population got around on horseback until just over a century ago, it is the main reason why men’s shoes in particular continued to incorporate a block heel (think cowboy boots) into their designs well into modern times.
Unfortunately, though, this isn’t the only reason why the elevated heel continued to be such a staple across human culture throughout the last millennium.
By the 15th century, the high heel had made its way into Europe via trading routes with the Middle East and Asia, and both noblemen and women began to sport them as a symbol of their “elevated” status within their respective societies, as only those who didn’t have to toil in order to earn a living could afford them financially, as well as practically, being that they were extremely uncomfortable to walk in.
Perhaps no other figure at the time popularized this fashion trend more than the “Sun King” himself, Louis the XIV of France, with his red high heels, symbolizing both his wealth and power.
As this fashion craze inevitably trickled down to the commoners throughout the kingdom (just as fashion trends do today), he passed laws stating that the highest of heels—2.5 inches and above—would be reserved solely for royalty.
By the 18th century, more and more women began to adopt this style as well, but as Enlightenment rationality soon began to proliferate across society, European men soon decided that this fashion trend was impractical, and therefore irrational, and ceased to sport the high heel in their footwear.
While women’s fashion norms also saw a decrease in the popularity of the high heel in the 18th century thanks to the American and French revolutions along with the rise of Protestant morality, they made a comeback in the 19th century and have since dominated women’s fashion ever since.
Which brings me to the next disastrous design flaw: the narrow toe-box.
Much like the high heel, the narrow toe-box—which unnaturally squeezes our toes into a narrow triangular shape—originated in different cultures throughout the world as a status symbol.
The ruling classes throughout both European and Asian societies began to cram their toes into narrow footwear in order to display their privilege, as their days spent in leisure didn’t require a need for healthy feet.
In Europe, in particular, the length of the forefoot, much like the height of the heel, came to be associated with one’s elevated status within the social hierarchy, and exaggerated pointy footwear became all the rage in high-class fashion.
In Asia, the trend—specifically for women—went in the opposite direction; and perhaps no other practice demonstrates the absurd lengths that humans will go to in the name of fashion and status as foot-binding and the Chinese “Lotus Shoe.”
Dating back to the 10th century, foot-binding required that, from the age of 5-years-old, women have every toe except the big one broken and the whole foot bound in silk and crammed into ever-narrowing footwear.
The intended result was the attainment in adulthood of a 3-inch foot—the prized “Golden Lotus”, which symbolized—much like the miniature waist of Victorian England or today’s “Kardashian” America—the height of female refinement and therefore a powerful currency for upward mobility among the lower classes.
In addition to permanently altering the shape and size of the female foot, this horrific practice also produced a particular sort of gait that relied primarily on the muscles of the thigh and buttocks, enhancing the look of the posterior chain, and thus imbuing women with an erotic and desirable appearance for potential high-class suitors (much like today’s high heels).
While historically the narrow toe-box trend has undoubtedly inflicted more harm on the female population, the fact is that today both men’s, and women’s, footwear continue to incorporate this design feature—not for any practical purposes but instead in the name of a centuries-old rationale that sleeker is more aesthetically appealing and thus better.
The combination of the elevated heel and narrow toe-box have wreaked havoc on our feet and overall physical health for centuries: the elevated heel not only alters our natural gait but, with sustained use, actually shortens the length of both the Achilles tendon and calf muscles while simultaneously compromising our posture; concurrently, the narrow toe-box, by smashing our toes together in the name of fashion, decreases our proprioception, inhibits the synchronistic functioning of the Central Nervous System, and vastly increases susceptibility to injury, dysfunction, and chronic pain.
It was under these circumstances that, in the mid twentieth century, a then little-known running coach, footwear designer, and soon-to-be entrepreneur, Bill Bowerman, revolutionized footwear once again—though not necessarily for the better.
Coach Bowerman, founder of Blue Ribbon Sports, which we all know today as Nike, recognized that, while the human population had indeed evolved to run, most of the sedentary adults of the modern world had neither the stamina, skill, nor mobility required to initiate this fundamental movement.
He coined the term ‘jogging’, a midpoint between walking and running that he felt would allow the average American to not only exercise consistently but eventually build up the athleticism required to progress toward running.
Unfortunately, however, jogging technique differed quite a bit from that of running.
Instead of landing on the mid-forefoot and propelling off the toes—just as our ancestors had done for perhaps millions of years; and which limits stride impact force throughout the body—Bowerman compensated for the athletic inadequacies of modern desk jockeys by instructing joggers to land on the heel and then transition to the toes, minimizing physical exertion.
While this inspired millions to experiment with this new exercise trend, it also led to new injuries, as each heel strike produced the equivalent of up to 3 times the force of individual bodyweight throughout the body.
In reaction to these adverse events, Bowerman designed the Nike Cortez in 1972; the first of its kind, incorporating foam cushioning into the sole of the foot along with a “toe-spring”—an upward curve in the forefoot designed to assist the heel-to-toe transition—thus compensating for the increased pressure with each jogger’s stride, as well as facilitating with technique.
While the cushioning helped to alleviate the direct sensation of ground impact on the foot itself, it did little to inhibit the systemic force reverberating up throughout the rest of the body; and the toe spring, while making jogging easier for the Cortez wearer, actually weakened foot muscles over time.
The combination of both these novel inventions is why so many long-term runners—especially the overweight—eventually experience injuries in the feet, ankles, knees, and hips.
The rest, as they say, is history, and sneaker designs since, across the majority of brands, have only doubled down on this philosophy, incorporating higher heels and more “advanced” technologies geared toward making the human foot as comfortable as possible, at all times, masking the ill effects of poor foot health, improper gait, weak and stiff muscles in the lower extremities, and the resulting postural deficiencies that inevitably stem from all of these aforementioned effects of modern footwear.
Not only that, but once again, in the name of fashion, sneakers seem to be getting bigger and bulkier—severely inhibiting foot strength and flexibility—reminiscent of medieval European fashion trends, serving no other purpose than to show off one’s heightened social standing and material prosperity.
It doesn’t have to be this way.
And believe it or not, there was a time when it wasn’t.
Before the invention of the heel a thousand years ago, shoes were built primarily for function, meaning that they served just two purposes: protection and, if need be, insulation.
So, if you desire healthier, stronger feet, improved mobility, and better posture, one of the best (and easiest) ways to facilitate these effects is to start wearing shoes that are built solely for these aims.
Opposite the design features of conventional footwear, the 5 main characteristics of minimalist footwear include:
1.) A “zero-drop” sole, meaning zero elevation between the forefoot and heel.
2.) A wide toe-box, allowing your toes to splay out naturally.
3.) No toe-spring, so that your forefoot can experience a full range of motion and complete muscle activation.
4.) A thin sole, allowing your feet to feel the ground below you and send powerful sensory information to your brain via the Central Nervous System.
5.) A light and flexible outsole, allowing your feet to bend and stretch freely, the way they adapted to function via millions of years of evolution.
Now, just like any new fitness regimen, it is vital that you begin this adaptation process slowly—especially the older you are and the more time you’ve spent in conventional footwear.
Spending your life wearing cushioned sneakers with an elevated heel is the equivalent to your feet as spending your whole life sitting on a plush sofa is to your body; all of the muscles required to walk and stand correctly will have atrophied and tightened, so starting too ambitiously will most likely lead to injury.
Therefore, before throwing out all of your current footwear, I recommend simply spending more time barefoot throughout your day.
Whenever you’re home, take your shoes (and socks) off.
If you have a backyard, nearby park, or can get to the beach, spend a few minutes each day walking barefoot on grass or sand, allowing yourself to acclimate to this new stimulation.
Notice the sensation of your bare feet touching the ground, how your gait changes as a result, and how the corresponding musculature responds to this new movement pattern.
Pay attention to any muscle soreness in the bottom of your feet (plantar fascia) and lower legs (calves; Achilles tendons; tibialis anterior) in the subsequent days, making sure to rest, stretch, and massage them often after an extended bout of barefoot activity.
Once you have built up both your time and distance—taking up to a month to do so—and you feel comfortable, experiencing little to no soreness after your time spent barefoot, I then recommend investing in your first pair of minimalist footwear, so that you can accumulate even more time and walking distance without the crutches built into most conventional models.
Some of my favorite brands specializing in minimalist footwear include:
You might find that your size changes a bit in this type of footwear, as they are shaped like your foot and therefore do not require the extra space you would otherwise need in most conventional models.
Once you have your new pair of minimalist shoes, put them on and extend your time wearing them throughout the day gradually; if you only worked up to a mile or two in your initial month of barefoot experimentation, you shouldn’t bump that up too extremely, as you will undoubtedly experience uncomfortable soreness in your feet and lower legs.
Be conservative in your approach and allow your body—not just your muscles but connective tissue as well—to acclimate little by little.
A great strategy that worked for me when I first began to wear these types of shoes was just to wear them for short walks, as well as during my strength training sessions.
Over time, and especially after a couple of months deadlifting, lunging, and squatting in my minimalist footwear, my feet grew strong enough to run, jump, and walk long distances in them, and I have now transitioned to wearing these types of shoes full-time.
(Note: For dress shoes, I recommend Zaqq, GROUNDIES, and VIVOBAREFOOT.)
Aside from switching up my shoes, a few other strategies I incorporated were the use of both toe spacers and barefoot-style socks.
While I have been lucky that my toes were never scrunched together too badly, thanks to my career as a personal trainer in pretty minimalist footwear, they still experienced some negative effects from years in narrow sneakers.
If you’ve spent more time than I in dress shoes—or heels, if you’re female—then I highly recommend that you invest in toe spacers, to be worn whenever you’re at home or spending any time barefoot; eventually, you may even start to wear them inside of your minimalist shoes for extended periods of time and greater results.
This simple product is an extremely easy and effective way to help facilitate more healthy feet, as they can drastically help to improve both your alignment and strength with consistent use.
They have helped me—and especially my wife—tremendously in the last year of use and we both continue to wear them daily as part of our self-care regimen.
The other tool in my arsenal is the use of barefoot-style socks, or “toe socks,” as they are commonly referred to.
While wearing minimalist shoes, these socks provide the insulation and comfort that socks were designed for—all while allowing your toes to splay out naturally and produce better proprioception and balance.
Just as with my footwear, I have now transitioned all of my socks over to this variation—and I recommend that you at least purchase one pair so that you can experience the difference yourself.
Our feet are literally the foundation of our entire body.
Each one contains 26 bones, 33 joints, 19 muscles, and thousands of nerve endings.
By effectively crippling them—all in the name of fashion, status, and comfort—we seriously jeopardize our health, mobility, and longevity.
For a thousand years, this has been the general trend in the human population; and judging by today’s fashion norms, as well as considering human nature itself, it will probably continue along this trajectory for the foreseeable future.
When I was a boy, I wanted to grow up to Be Like Mike.
And throughout my young adulthood, I spent thousands of dollars purchasing his sneakers, not realizing that, by doing so, I wasn’t emulating him at all—but just behaving like the millions of others trying to do the same.
It took over thirty years for me to realize that what I idolized about my favorite athlete was his spirit—his individualism; artistry; work ethic; and intelligence—and that I could embody that ideal in my own actions; not by throwing my hard-earned money at the brand built around him by marketing strategists, aimed at selling aspirations to children and nostalgia to mediocre minds in adulthood.
Even if you don’t follow every single piece of advice outlined in this essay, I hope it at least inspired you to start questioning more of the conventional wisdom we take for granted in all aspects of life—especially where your health is concerned.
Additional Notes:
If you would like to explore the minimalist footwear world in greater depth, I recommend the site Anya’s Reviews, as she does a phenomenal job reviewing different models and providing insights (as well as discount codes) for a wide array of brands.
A few sites I recommend for overall foot-health-related information, as well as strengthening protocols and mobility exercises, are Correct Toes, The Foot Collective, and My Foot Function.
While not necessarily a minimalist brand per se, Altra makes fantastic running shoes with wide toe-boxes, zero-drop soles, and a bit more stack height and cushioning for those trekking longer distances on less forgiving surfaces.
And lastly, for greater depth into a lot of the information I relayed in this essay, I recommend VIVOBAREFOOT’s documentary, SHOESPIRACY (run time approximately 9 minutes).