From One Love to One Health: Charles Mattocks, Inspired by Uncle Bob Marley

Written by Charles Mattocks for Ravoke.com

When Advocacy Was Welcomed, Not Managed

When I was first diagnosed with type 2 diabetes nearly 13 years ago, the healthcare industry was an entirely different playground. I was genuinely excited to reach out to companies within the diabetes space to explore how I could serve as an advocate. At that time, they were remarkably open. Creativity mattered. Innovation mattered. Most importantly, helping patients mattered.

Those companies opened their arms, and that openness led to my first television series, sponsored by a forward-thinking biopharma company. Their CEO, Mike, is still someone I respect and remain on good terms with today, and they continue to do meaningful work in diabetes care.

We were early—well ahead of our time. I named the project Reversed, not to suggest reversing diabetes itself, but to reverse the stigma, the misinformation, and the lack of empowerment. The goal was to provide people living with diabetes the tools, education, and confidence to live longer, healthier lives.

At the time, there were critics. Some of the write-ups felt personal, even hostile. They attacked the name despite my repeated clarification that the series was not about curing or reversing diabetes. Ironically, fast forward to today, and the same terminology is everywhere—now championed by massive companies that have raised tens of millions of dollars while openly marketing the idea of “reversing diabetes.”

The Shift From Advocacy to Optics

Over the years, I worked with many major brands that once understood advocacy as both a responsibility and an opportunity. They recognized that giving back to the community was not optional—it was foundational.

Today, that ethos has largely evaporated.

The current state of affairs is troubling. Companies now operate almost exclusively through the lens of profit maximization. They invest little to nothing in the lived experiences of the people who rely on their products. Instead, they sponsor cyclists wearing branded jerseys, pour billions into digital advertising, and justify massive media spends on platforms like Amazon, Tubi, and even the Super Bowl—not because it meaningfully educates or helps patients, but because it validates the budget.

They outsource their conscience to large advertising agencies and marketing firms that are fundamentally disconnected from the realities of chronic illness. These firms rarely care about patients; they care about impressions, reach, and quarterly metrics. As a result, there is no creative risk-taking, no willingness to step outside the box—just the same recycled platforms and the same sanitized messaging. 

We need disruptors and outspoken advocates because sitting quietly many have lost hope and faith in the causes they fight for. We see many polarizing figures, like Candace Owens, Nick Fuentes, and even some doctors and experts, speaking out on what they feel needs to be changed, be it political or health. Not that I agree with their tactics or beliefs, but being outside the system has made them millions and earned them millions of followers.

The Illusion of Information and the Failure of Healthcare Media

Let’s use WebMD as an example, and this is not a knock to them. 

They generate enormous revenue, yet they offer very little in the way of substantive, narrative-driven content. To be precise, they lack journalism. They lack storytelling. They lack context. What they provide is transactional information—symptom lists, surface-level explanations, and algorithm-friendly answers, in my opinion. 

People today want more than, “If I have a wart, what should I do?”
They want truth.
They want depth.
They want lived experience.
They want answers that respect their intelligence and acknowledge the complexity of their conditions.

Healthcare media should inform, challenge, and empower. Instead, much of it feels dated, sterile, and devoid of real human connection.

Why I Chose Advocacy—and Never Left

I share all of this not as a critic looking in, but as an advocate deeply invested in people. Perhaps it’s how I was raised. My Caribbean mother was profoundly spiritual, and that upbringing instilled in me a lifelong sense of empathy and responsibility toward others.

After my diabetes diagnosis, I found my purpose. I didn’t just want to survive—I wanted to serve. And I haven’t stopped since.

I intentionally created a lane focused on experiential, human-centered programming. If a company wants to reach people living with diabetes, we don’t run ads—we build series. We bring individuals living with the condition together in beautiful, restorative environments and surround them with trusted experts who guide them over several days toward sustainable, life-improving change.

You would think this approach would be an easy sell. Frankly, it’s like fishing in a barrel, and what better way to fish if you truly want to reach a target audience, 

Who Is Actually Steering the Ship?

At some point, you have to ask:
Who is in charge?
Who is making these decisions?
Who is calling the shots?

We are currently developing a sleep-focused series, and the urgency could not be clearer. Over a billion people worldwide suffer from sleep disorders or related conditions. Lives are being shortened, and quality of life is being eroded daily.

Yet when we approached a company like ResMed—publicly reported as found on the internet to have generated $5.1 billion in revenue for its 2025 fiscal year—we were told there was no budget. Not even a modest contribution. Not 1k to just showing support, Not even a symbolic investment.

Instead, we find alignment with smaller companies—organizations that still possess both vision and heart, rather than employees merely protecting positions and paychecks.

The Domino Effect of Ignoring Root Causes

Sleep disorders are not isolated issues. They are directly linked to heart disease, diabetes, obesity, hypertension, stroke, depression, anxiety, and mood disorders. Addressing sleep is not niche—it is foundational.

Creating a series that addresses these intersections is not radical. It is logical. It is responsible.

Monetizing Illness While Ignoring Humanity

Yes, revenue matters. No one disputes that. But tossing small donations at nonprofits for optics while ignoring meaningful engagement is not generosity—it’s performative.

Where are the disruptors inside these corporations?

Ad agencies are focused on monetizing sickness more efficiently. AI excites boardrooms because it tracks patients as data points, not as people. Somewhere along the way, we forgot that any one of us could one day face dementia, diabetes, heart disease, prostate cancer, or chronic pain.

We have become dangerously detached.

The Stories That Never Get Funded

The project closest to my heart is a film on Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS). The stories are devastating—raw, human, and largely ignored. Funding is nearly nonexistent.

Meanwhile, device manufacturers, pharmaceutical companies, and ketamine providers generate enormous revenue with minimal advocacy. When was the last time you saw a meaningful campaign around sickle cell disease, despite billions circulating in digital advertising?

This piece is for the advocates still fighting. Keep going.

A Cultural Shift Is Already Underway

Change is coming—whether corporations like it or not.

People are standing up. Social platforms are flooded with doctors and experts rejecting outdated norms because patients are exhausted from being handed pills instead of answers. Politicians are beginning to challenge Big Pharma publicly, yet industry tactics remain stubbornly unchanged.

Too many people are comfortable. Too many are being paid well to maintain the status quo.

Revolution Precedes Resolution

My uncle once said, “It takes a revolution to make a solution.”
That uncle was Bob Marley.

From a man who lived simply and fought relentlessly for the people, I learned that meaningful change is never convenient—but it is necessary.

What Patients Are Actually Asking For

Patients don’t just want products.
They want acknowledgement.
They want support.
They want to know they are not alone.

These companies have the money. I know this firsthand. I’ve been flown first class, paid extraordinary fees for short speaking engagements, and watched companies spend half a million dollars on convention booths and tens of thousands on catering for a single event.

The resources exist. The will does not.

Menopause, Gastroparesis, and the Work Ahead

Our menopause series is coming soon—a thoughtful, intimate look at five women navigating menopause. A billion women worldwide experience menopause, yet advocacy remains shockingly limited.

It’s telling that it took a man to push this project forward. Something is fundamentally off.

We explored a gastroparesis series as well, a condition deeply intertwined with CRPS, and again encountered indifference from large corporations.

After months of hitting walls and getting nowhere with major companies, an advocate in this space—someone I deeply respect—shared this with me just today:

“Hi, Mr. Mattocks. I am afraid I do not have any further ideas. It is frustrating and a bit ridiculous that these companies are so greedy. I had hoped for a bit of cooperation from them, but they clearly do not care much about patients. Awful. I greatly appreciate your efforts, and I am very sorry it is like this.”

That message says everything.

It confirms what many of us already know but rarely say out loud: across the board, patients are being deprioritized. These companies are not just failing to fund projects—they are failing to acknowledge people. To them, it’s not about building community, offering reassurance, or standing alongside those who suffer. It’s about pipelines, products, and profit margins.

Yet the people living with gastroparesis, CRPS, and countless other chronic conditions want something profoundly simple: to feel supported, to feel seen, and to know they are not alone.

That absence of care is not accidental—it is systemic.

Sheri New who is also living with CRPS recently made a comment on a post and shared: 

 (It’s not in the doctor’s best interest to help us. They would be losing kickbacks from device companies, big Pharma, and all these treatments they’re giving us that aren’t helping.)

We all know this to be true yet we do very little to change it. 

Still, we will continue.

That is precisely one of the reasons we created Ravoke.com—to serve as an unfiltered voice for the people, not a mouthpiece for advertising agencies. Ravoke exists to reach underserved communities and minorities, to amplify the voices of those living with conditions that are too often ignored, minimized, or deemed unmarketable.

This platform was not built to chase ad dollars or appease corporate comfort. It was built to tell the stories that matter, to confront uncomfortable truths, and to create space for honest dialogue around health conditions that rarely receive meaningful attention.

To those reading this who sit in positions of influence—executives, marketers, agency leaders, and decision-makers—the call is simple: pick up the phone and ask, “How can we be part of this?” Do not turn away from truths we all know to be real. Progress does not come from silence or avoidance; it comes from courage, accountability, and a willingness to stand with the people you claim to serve.

Some of our projects have aired on major platforms such as Discovery, PBS, Amazon Prime, and Tubi, Apple TV,  among others. We have received awards globally for our work on topics including cancer, diabetes, health disparities, sickle cell disease, longevity, and now menopause.