Dorothy Kilroy has noticed her company’s smart ring gracing the hands of some high-profile individuals. Mark Zuckerberg is a fan, as is Jack Dorsey. Even Prince Harry has been seen wearing one. Yet, when Oura’s chief commercial officer joined me for a conversation at Toronto’s Elevate conference last week, she caught me off guard by revealing that the company’s fastest-expanding group of users isn’t tech moguls or health-focused executives—it’s women in their early twenties.
This underscores a pivotal time for Oura. The Finnish health tech firm, now 13 years old, pioneered the smart ring market and grew it into a billion-dollar industry. But competition is heating up, with Samsung’s Galaxy Ring, Ultrahuman’s no-subscription approach, and Whoop’s athletic appeal all vying for a share. Each competitor aims to chip away at Oura’s dominance.
There’s no doubt Oura is currently leading—with 80% of the smart ring market, its dominance is clear. The real question is whether it can sustain that lead as the wearables space fragments into different user groups and needs, and whether Oura even needs to appeal to every segment to thrive.
Before joining Oura three years ago, Kilroy spent eight years at Airbnb, observing both companies grow primarily through word of mouth. At Airbnb, she noted, 90% of revenue could be traced to people sharing their positive travel experiences; at Oura, it’s users excitedly discussing their sleep data.
This kind of organic buzz is especially strong among so-called “corporate athletes”—high-achieving professionals who prioritize their health to stay at the top of their game. These individuals have realized that burning the candle at both ends isn’t sustainable, or as Kilroy described on stage, “people striving to excel in their fields. They want their sleep optimized, want guidance on exercise, and are attentive to their metabolic health.”
This group—primarily millennials and Gen Xers with disposable income—has fueled Oura’s impressive growth. The company reported doubling its revenue last year and expects to do so again this year. Even more notable, according to Kilroy, is that Oura’s 12-month retention rate is in the high 80s, while other wearables struggle to keep even a third of users. People actually stick with the ring.
But there’s a new challenge. While Oura has won over professionals, younger consumers—especially young men focused on fitness and recovery—are looking elsewhere. The Whoop fitness band, for instance, has become a staple among dedicated athletes and gym enthusiasts.
Competition intensified recently. Whoop, based in Boston and also 13 years old, unveiled a new blood-testing service just a day before Oura announced its own partnership for blood testing with Quest Diagnostics. When asked about the timing, Kilroy emphasized the unique value Oura offers its members. Still, the near-simultaneous launches indicate both companies are moving toward integrating wearable data with clinical biomarkers.
Ultrahuman, meanwhile, is positioning itself as the underdog. Priced at $349 (or $299 during sales), it matches Oura’s upfront cost but skips the $5.99 monthly subscription Oura requires. While the devices look similar, reviewers tend to favor Oura’s design and finish. Nevertheless, Ultrahuman’s “no subscription” model appeals to younger buyers weary of accumulating monthly fees from services like Netflix and Spotify.
Kilroy isn’t overly concerned about losing customers to those sensitive to price. “There’s always some risk when you introduce a new pricing structure,” she said on stage, but pointed to Oura’s strong retention. “Our members find significant value in what we offer and are happy to continue paying for it.”
In reality, Kilroy doesn’t seem preoccupied with capturing every possible demographic. Her focus is on keeping Oura’s core audience satisfied while naturally drawing in new groups. Young women are increasingly joining that core, a shift she attributes to broader societal trends, though Oura is also keenly aware of the opportunity. “We’re seeing that they’re drinking less,” Kilroy observed. “They’re prioritizing their mental well-being.”
This momentum has led Oura to enhance features like cycle tracking and fertility insights. “Thanks to our temperature accuracy, we can detect ovulation with nearly 97% precision,” Kilroy said. The company has also introduced tools for perimenopause and expanded support for pregnancy.
In short, Oura is currently more invested in serving its expanding female user base than in chasing young male athletes focused on VO2 max. As Kilroy put it: “We’re not just a fitness tracker. We’re a health platform. Our main goal is preventative health—to help users avoid burnout and illness, and to enable early detection of significant health conditions.”
Drawing from her Airbnb experience, Kilroy said, “You stay focused on your own path and the features and products you deliver.”
It’s a savvy approach. The market for people wanting better sleep, less stress, and improved well-being is arguably much larger than the niche of athletes tracking every workout metric.
The data backs up this strategy. Oura is now available in 4,000 retail locations and has 1,000 partners using its API. Kilroy notes the company employs over 30 PhDs and MDs and collaborates with leading research institutions like UCSF, UC Berkeley, and Stanford. This level of scientific validation gives Oura an edge that’s hard for rivals to match.
Blood testing is just one area of innovation. Late last year, Oura teamed up with Dexcom, a company specializing in blood sugar monitoring wearables, to offer metabolic health tracking—allowing users to view continuous glucose data alongside their ring metrics. Kilroy personally tested the integration for nine months. “I was amazed by how much stress affected my glucose,” she said, recalling spikes during tough meetings. “All I want to do is grab a bar of chocolate when I’m stressed,” she laughed. “But that’s like adding fuel to the fire when your blood sugar is already high.”
Oura’s rise hasn’t been without controversy. This summer, the company faced criticism over a $96 million contract to supply rings to the Department of Defense, with security handled by Palantir. Privacy advocates voiced concerns about surveillance and data sharing—understandable given the sensitive nature of biometric data and military contracts.
On stage, however, Kilroy was unequivocal. “We do not share our members’ data with the U.S. government,” she stated. “When we work with the government, the data they collect from their own personnel in the Army or Air Force is provided to them.”
Asked what Oura learned from this public relations challenge, Kilroy replied, “There’s a lot of misinformation out there, and once it spreads, it’s very difficult to correct.”
The Department of Defense episode highlights a crucial point: when a device tracks your sleep, fertility, and stress—essentially knowing your body better than you do—trust is everything. Oura’s retention rates suggest users have faith in the company, but the recent backlash shows that trust can be fragile. This makes Oura’s decision not to chase every trend seem less like caution and more like strategic focus.
So, can Oura win over all of Gen Z? Probably not—and that may be perfectly fine. While competitors like Whoop dominate specific niches such as athletic performance, Oura is betting that more people are interested in avoiding burnout than in tracking every recovery stat. For now, at least, it seems no one is switching rings to prove them wrong.
