If you could have any superpower, what would it be? Flight, invisibility, teleportation? Or maybe immortality? In an age of overconsumption, a market has grown for just that. The idea that we can live forever has pulled people in, and now we’re faced with new tech and pressure to purchase it. Biohacking is the practice of using high-tech devices and making lifestyle changes in order to attempt to elongate one’s lifespan. As a concept, it isn’t inherently wrong, but it reflects society’s obsession with the superficial aspects of wellness and we see that embodied in figures like Bryan Johnson, who hopes to get his “46-year-old organs to look and act like 18-year-old organs.” Understanding biohacking is to acknowledge the positive intentions behind it: the focus on things such as preventing disease and improving our quality of life, while also being wary of its harmful effects.
Wanting to prevent aging isn’t a new concept, but with the rise of biohacking, it’s being taken to a new level. We all hope to see breakthroughs in medicine and technology that can help improve the quality of our lives, but one step into this community, and it quickly becomes clear that wellness has become another market for capitalism to take hold of. Peter Attia, a physician and well-known longevity guru, has been very transparent about taking Rampycin, a prescription drug typically prescribed to organ transplant patients to help prevent rejection, in an experiment to test its effects on longevity and anti-aging. For the average person, gaining access to this drug can cost anywhere from $20–300 a month, the lowest of that being a compounded version that isn’t even proven to have the same effects. All of that money for an experimental drug is completely out of touch and unrealistic for the average person. Other well-known names in the wellness community are promoting the same thing, with lists of drugs and supplements available for anybody to access, without really understanding any of the long-term harm this may bring. There is minimal evidence surrounding the effectiveness of these, and in the same breath, little research on possible side effects. While some advice such as tracking your sleep and eating well are generally accessible to all, some of these more extravagant outlets of biohacking are only accessible to wealthy individuals. Even at the most basic level, organic foods are about 59% more expensive than nonorganic, and there are dozens of devices being sold to help track your sleep that sit in the $100+ range. While organic produce and sleep tracking represent smaller steps to healthy living, longevity gurus embody an extreme interpretation of what it means. Now, improving your health seems to come with a hefty price tag and half-tested products.
As this market grows, it will begin to impact all of us, whether we consider ourselves to be its target audience or not; the more we see it, the more normal it will become. One day, the average human is going to be some genetically engineered version of ourselves that can only be achieved by purchasing gadgets and undergoing experiments. Trends on social media show the subtle infiltration of this concept into the public conscience. Now, devices like red light masks and the Oura Ring retail for hundreds of dollars and have become very prominent on social media, showing some of the ways this practice has become extreme and materialistic.
It’s this that makes you wonder, why is it that wanting to improve our wellness and lifespan is another thing that has only become accessible to those with piles of money sitting around? Is there a way to effectively prevent cancer and make us look or feel younger without breaking the bank, or is it another privilege that is meant to widen the gap between the rich and the poor? I’d argue it’s becoming exactly that. Pressure from social media is a major component in this, and one day, we’ll not only feel less than for not having the coolest new gadget, but simply for existing as we are, and accepting the fact that one day, we will be dead.
