Billionaires’ Longing for Youth—and Longevity
Call it the new prestige hobby. For many of the world’s wealthiest, wellness is no longer a Peloton and an annual check-up; it’s a portfolio—cellular reprogramming labs, hormone clinics, IV lounges, weight-loss injections, and resurrected botanicals from Ayurveda. “Longevity” has become both an industry and an aesthetic: leaner faces, bigger biceps, quantified sleep, and bloodwork tweaked toward “youthful” ranges.
This piece tours the headline treatments—what they promise, what we actually know, and where the hype outruns the evidence—without the medical school lecture.
The Bezos Effect: From Bookstore Founder to Longevity Bellwether
Nothing crystallised the new look like the photos of Jeff Bezos swapping the wiry CEO silhouette for a fitted-tee, brawny frame. Whether or not any one person uses a given therapy is ultimately private, but Bezos’s investments have unquestionably accelerated the field. He is widely reported to be a backer of Altos Labs, a biotech with roughly $3 billion in funding to explore “cellular rejuvenation programming”—research aiming to nudge ageing cells back toward a younger state. It’s dazzling science with genuine prospects for treating specific diseases (for example in the eye or nervous system), but it remains early and safety-critical, particularly around cancer risk. Nature+1
TRT, “Replacement” vs. Enhancement—Why the Words Matter
Among gym-floor whispers, TRT—testosterone replacement therapy—gets marketed as simply “restoring what time took away.” In conventional medicine, TRT is reserved for men with proven low testosterone plus symptoms, after proper testing and with regular monitoring. Running levels above your natural physiological range slides from replacement into enhancement—a different risk/benefit equation. Expert bodies also warn about thicker blood (erythrocytosis), which can require dose changes or pausing treatment when red-cell counts climb. Translation: for the right diagnosis, TRT can help; as a shortcut to aesthetics, it’s not a free lunch. Endocrine Society+1
(A note on individuals: beyond public reporting on investments or general fitness makeovers, most people do not disclose their medical decisions. We should resist reading a bicep like a lab report.)
Silicon Valley’s “Young Blood” Detour
“Infusing young blood” is no longer just a figurative prescription for ageing organisations—it’s been tried literally. A decade of mouse studies showed that when old and young rodents shared a bloodstream, the older ones displayed markers of rejuvenation. That lab science spilled into pop culture as the meme of “blood boys.” For a brief moment, a startup called Ambrosia even offered transfusions of plasma from young donors to paying customers—until the U.S. FDA issued a warning in 2019, cautioning against anti-ageing claims and safety risks. Ambrosia shut down soon after. The idea remains intriguing, but human benefits are unproven, and regulators have been blunt: don’t buy the hype. U.S. Food and Drug Administration+1
Peter Thiel was frequently mentioned in stories about parabiosis; subsequent reporting and statements clarified speculation exceeded fact. The broader lesson stands: impressive animal biology does not licence boutique human procedures. Forbes
The Shot Heard Round the Dinner Party: GLP-1 Injections
If parabiosis was the weird-science phase, GLP-1 drugs (like semaglutide) are the mainstream era. In 2021, the FDA approved Wegovy (semaglutide 2.4mg weekly) for chronic weight management in adults with obesity or overweight and weight-related conditions, after trials showing double-digit percentage weight loss when paired with diet and activity. In 2024, the FDA went further, approving Wegovy to reduce cardiovascular risk (heart attack and stroke) in certain adults—an inflection point that turned a “vanity jab” narrative into a bona fide public-health tool for the right patients. Side-effects exist, supply and cost are real, but the efficacy signal is not in doubt. Reuters+3U.S. Food and Drug Administration+3PR Newswire+3
Culturally, GLP-1s have rearranged the map. Executives and celebrities now talk openly about prescription weight loss; social stigma (that thinness equals iron will) is giving way to a medical framing: appetite and metabolism are biology, not morality.
The IV Lounge Economy: NAD⁺ Drips
Next up the trend ladder: NAD⁺ infusions. NAD⁺—nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide—is a cellular coenzyme (not an amino acid) essential for energy production and DNA repair. Levels tend to fall with age, which makes the idea of “topping them up” appealing. But crucially, NAD⁺ IV drips are not FDA-approved for anti-ageing, wellness, or performance; mainstream reviewers and medical outlets note limited human evidence and urge caution. The practice has been popularised by wellness clinics—particularly in Japan (often alongside NMN infusions, a precursor to NAD⁺) and Taiwan, where private centres market vitality drips to busy professionals. In the U.S. and across other Western capitals, NAD⁺ infusions are offered mainly by wellness IV bars and integrative or functional medicine clinics—marketed as services or dietary-supplement–style offerings, not as regulated drugs—reflecting the treatment’s regulatory grey zone. If cellular reprogramming is high science and GLP-1s are regulated medicine, NAD⁺ IVs sit in wellness limbo: plausible on paper, unproven in practice. PubMed+2Verywell Health+2
“Natural” Old-Meets-New: Ashwagandha and Shilajit
At the other end of the price spectrum, the West’s longevity turn has rediscovered Ayurveda. Two ingredients now feature in many “biohacker” stacks:
Ashwagandha (Withania somnifera). In a randomised controlled trial of resistance-trained men using a standardised extract (often sold as KSM-66), participants saw higher strength gains and favourable shifts in body composition versus placebo; some studies also report higher testosterone within normal ranges. The brand-name extracts matter because standardisation improves consistency and research quality. BioMed Central
Shilajit (purified). One double-blind, placebo-controlled study in healthy middle-aged men found increases in total and free testosterone after 90 days of a specific purified shilajit ingredient. It’s not a drug approval—and results don’t automatically generalise to every jar labelled “shilajit”—but it helps explain the ingredient’s staying power. Wiley Online Library
The commercial tell is unmistakable: Western companies have rolled out trademarked ashwagandha extracts—KSM-66, Sensoril, Shoden—complete with patents and white papers. Old remedies, re-branded and standardised, meet modern marketing.
Sorting the Signal from the Noise
Cellular reprogramming (Altos and others): Serious money, serious science. The near-term wins are likely disease-specific (e.g., eye conditions) rather than “make every cell young again.” Safety is the governor; the cancer question isn’t going away. The Washington Post
TRT: Legitimate for properly diagnosed hypogonadism, monitored with labs and clinical follow-up. Calling enhancement “replacement” doesn’t change physiology—or risks like thicker blood. Endocrine Society
Young-donor plasma: A cautionary tale. Rodent magic, no proven human benefit; the FDA warned consumers off. U.S. Food and Drug Administration
GLP-1s: The blockbuster that moved from “cosmetic” to cardiometabolic medicine. Game-changing for some, but meant to be used medically, not casually. Reuters
NAD⁺ drips: Mechanistically interesting, clinically unconvincing so far. Buyer beware. Verywell Health
Botanicals: Not magic, but some standardised extracts have encouraging human data—especially alongside training, sleep and stress management. BioMed Central
The Takeaway
Perhaps these busy billionaires have not lingered long enough over Oscar Wilde’s cautionary tale of Dorian Gray. In that novel, the protagonist enjoys the gift of perpetual youth while his hidden portrait absorbs every wrinkle, scar, and moral stain. It seemed a bargain—until the day he slashed the canvas and perished with it, undone by the very shortcut he thought had freed him. Today’s billionaires, with their hormone regimens, miracle injections, and designer IV drips, may be chasing a similar illusion: that time can be bargained with, bought off, or tricked into submission.
Yet the truth is older than any wellness trend. The reliable path to health and vitality is neither secret nor seductive: move your body, build strength, eat sensibly, sleep deeply, and seek real medical counsel before experimenting with costly potions or needles. Even supplements, if you must try them, are best chosen in standardised, trial-backed forms rather than exotic powders promising the world.
The irony is that the quest for eternal youth has never really been about living forever; it has been about living visibly younger than one’s years—projecting vigour, desirability, and power. The images get better, sharper, and glossier. But as Wilde warned, appearances can betray, and shortcuts to immortality tend to end in tragedy. And beyond all the lab work, infusions, and biohacks, one question remains unanswered: does any of this actually buy happiness? The jury, it seems, is still out.