Science Friction

The latest massage-chair technology can make you feel like you’re in the captain’s seat of the Starship Enterprise

- Brin-Jonathan Butler

I was waiting to catch a return flight to New York in the Madrid-Barajas airport last September when my fiancée and I spotted arguably the greatest available nonalcoholic and non-duty-free use of our last €30: the robotic massage chair. It wasn’t conspicuously high-end. The machine functioned primarily as an added amenity at a low-rent, overpriced “wellness” smoothie stand.

But a funny thing happened. It was the greatest massage of either of our lives. The massage was such a revelation, it even replaced my regular anxiety about flying with befuddlement: Why do Americans get offered options like this only as an afterthought or a sneaky treat at a shopping mall Brookstone?

The first commercial robotic massage chair was produced in 1954 by the Family Fujiiryoki Co. in Japan. Almost 70 years later, according to several surveys conducted there, more than 1 in 5 Japanese households currently own one.

It’s a different story in the U.S. As we enter Year 3 of the pandemic, almost every massage parlor I encounter is packed with New Yorkers risking Covid-19 exposure to enjoy the benefits of a masseuse’s hands. The U.S. massage therapy market has grown to be worth $18 billion, according to the American Massage Therapy Association, a trade group. More than 90% of American consumers think massage is an effective way to reduce pain, and an unprecedented 83% agree that it should be considered a form of health care.

Despite these figures, I’ve not only never met a person who owns a massage chair—I’ve also never met anyone who’s heard of anyone owning a massage chair.