If you’ve scrolled through TikTok in the last few years, chances are you’ve seen it. A handsome young person (usually a man), mouth closed, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, claiming this one move can sculpt your jawline and change your life. This is “mewing,” and the man behind it—Dr. Michael Mew—has just been struck off the dental register in the United Kingdom.
The decision, handed down by the General Dental Council (GDC), follows a years-long investigation into Mew’s practices. At the heart of the case was a controversial alternative therapy known as “orthotropics,” a method developed by his father, Dr. John Mew. The method promised that oral posture—yes, posture—could fix your teeth, shape your face, and maybe even make you smarter.
But regulators found something very different: harm, misleading claims, and a troubling lack of evidence.
The Rise of ‘Mewing’
Mewing exploded in popularity thanks to YouTube and TikTok, where Dr. Mew’s videos gathered hundreds of thousands of followers. The method is simple: flatten your tongue against the roof of your mouth, close your lips, and breathe through your nose. The approach quickly gained supporters. According to them, this subtle change in oral posture can realign the jaw, improve facial symmetry, and even enhance attractiveness.
For millions of teens, it seemed too good to be true. A no-surgery, no-braces solution to awkward adolescent growth or an unflattering jawline? Sign me up.
And that’s exactly the problem.
“The danger lies in the illusion of harmlessness,” said Dr. Johannes Jacobs, a dentist unaffiliated with the GDC’s investigation. “Mewing may look benign, but when it replaces evidence-based care—especially for children—the consequences can be severe.”
Patients as Test Subjects
The GDC found that Dr. Mew had treated multiple children with methods unsupported by science. In one case, a six-year-old patient was prescribed headgear and palate expanders, treatments usually reserved for specific, diagnosed dental issues. According to testimony, the parents were told these devices would “make way for the tongue,” improve her midface, and “change the swallowing pattern.”
None of these outcomes are supported by robust evidence. Worse, the child later developed a traumatic ulcer and a condition known as “open bite”—a misalignment where teeth don’t touch when the mouth is closed. An oral consultant who saw her noted that the procedure had likely worsened her condition.
Another patient, a boy just six years old, was subjected to similar treatments. His parents told the panel their son began experiencing “seizure-like episodes” shortly after wearing the gear.
Yet, according to Dr. Mew, this was all part of a broader vision. He argued that our ancestors didn’t need braces—why should we? In his view, modern orthodontics treats symptoms, not causes.
That idea might sound revolutionary. But it’s reckless and unsupported by evidence.
Repeat After Me: TikTok Advice Is Not Real Advice
Orthotropics isn’t recognized by the National Health Service or any major dental association. It lacks the scientific validation necessary for mainstream medical acceptance. Despite this, Dr. Mew promoted it on YouTube and in consultations, claiming it could influence facial development and even brain growth.
Yes, brain growth.
This is all the more problematic because mewing is perfect for platforms like TikTok. It’s visual, it’s simple, and it promises transformation. Influencers and fitness gurus jumped on board. Mewing how-tos racked up millions of views. Before-and-after pictures, often of dubious origin, reinforced the illusion.
But virality is not the same as validity.
Indeed, some teachers even reported that students were “mewing” in class to avoid answering questions—mouths closed, tongues pressed to the palate.
You might think this is just another case of a medical fringe figure getting banned. But the story of Dr. Mew offers something deeper: a warning about how quickly alternative ideas can leap from obscurity to influence—and how long it can take the system to catch up. In another classic example, Andrew Wakefield falsely claimed that vaccines cause autism—a claim thoroughly debunked and discredited, yet decades later, public health officials are still battling the fallout of that misinformation.
Platforms like YouTube and TikTok thrive on disruption. Medicine, by contrast, demands caution, trials, and peer review.
Otherwise, patients suffer.
