Connie Zack is making a specific argument: infrared saunas aren't just a gentler version of traditional saunas — they're a fundamentally different modality. The wavelengths penetrate deeper into tissue. The heat builds from the inside rather than cooking the surface. And that distinction, she argues, changes what your body does in response.
The core claim is that regular infrared sessions — 40 minutes, consistently — can improve cardiovascular function, accelerate detoxification, clear mental fog, and support skin health. Not as side effects. As direct biological outcomes of infrared light interacting with tissue at depth.
Here's where I want to be careful, because the sauna research we have in abundance is almost entirely from Finnish traditional sauna studies. Jari Laukkanen's cohort. Rhonda Patrick's analysis of it. The 63 percent reduction in sudden cardiac death for people using sauna four to seven times per week. The Alzheimer's data. The all-cause mortality curves. That's the bedrock.
Infrared sauna research is thinner. The 17-year-old study Connie references is real — there's a small but compelling body of work showing blood pressure improvements and quality of life scores. But we don't yet have a 2,000-person, multi-decade cohort study for infrared the way we do for Finnish sauna. It's worth naming that gap honestly.
That said, the mechanisms are plausible. Heat shock proteins activate when core temperature rises — whether from traditional heat or infrared. The cardiovascular adaptations (increased plasma volume, improved vascular compliance, heart rate response) follow similar pathways. The difference is how you get there. Infrared gets you there at lower ambient temperatures, which some people find more tolerable for longer sessions.
The mental health piece is where I think the real story is. Ashley Mason at UCSF has been quietly producing compelling data showing that a single session of whole-body hyperthermia — heating core temperature by one to two degrees — can produce antidepressant effects lasting up to six weeks. Six weeks from one session. The proposed mechanism involves inflammatory cytokines, not just endorphins. Lower inflammation, better mood regulation, clearer cognition.
Connie's "clearing logs from the road" metaphor is intuitive, but the biology underneath it is specific. The mental fog we associate with chronic stress is partly inflammatory. Heat — whether traditional or infrared — suppresses C-reactive protein and other inflammatory markers. You're not just relaxing. You're chemically resetting a system that chronic stress has pushed out of equilibrium.
If you have access to infrared and traditional sauna, use both — they complement each other. Infrared is excellent for morning sessions when you want cognitive clarity without the cardiovascular intensity of a 200-degree Finnish sauna. Traditional sauna, especially followed by cold, produces a more dramatic hormetic response that works well as a deliberate stressor two or three times per week.
If infrared is what you have, don't let the lack of Finnish-style data discourage you. Start with 20-minute sessions and build toward 40. Consistency matters more than duration. Three times per week, regularly, beats a heroic 60-minute session once a month.
Far infrared wavelengths are the same spectrum your body naturally emits as thermal radiation. When you sit in an infrared sauna, you're essentially bathing in the same signal your own cells produce. There's something elegant about that — the body recognizing a familiar frequency and responding with deep, unhurried relaxation rather than the shock response you get from extreme cold or extreme heat. It's less a confrontation and more a conversation. Your biology already speaks this language. The sauna is just amplifying the signal.