Dr. Mike Israetel and Bryan Johnson on Steroids, Longevity, AI, and What Is Worth the Risk

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Overview

Bryan Johnson, who has built his public persona around slowing and reversing biological aging, sits down with Dr. Mike Israetel, a competitive bodybuilder, co-founder of Renaissance Periodization (RP), and one of the more visible fitness voices on YouTube. The two first connected after Mike criticized Bryan online and Bryan answered with a friendly comment. The conversation begins with how Mike handles sudden fame, then moves through the coming wave of pharmaceutical body modification, Mike's steroid use, Bryan's "Don't Die" philosophy, AI, and Mike's biological-age test results. It ends with a candid exchange about call-out culture, risk aversion, and Bryan's decade of depression.

30 min read

The central tension throughout is that both men think humanity is approaching a transformative moment. Bryan argues that almost no present-day pleasure is worth risking one's chance to see it. Mike largely agrees in theory, but openly admits he still makes trade-offs for the here and now that Bryan would not.

Living with being recognized, and with the comment section

Asked how online notoriety has changed him, Mike says that view counts felt abstract at first, "devoid of any reference to any kind of emotion." It became real about a year and a half to two years before the interview, when strangers in malls and airports started recognizing him. He says he likes meeting people, but the loss of assumed anonymity required him to "recontextualize" how he moves through the world. His example is a joke: discreetly picking his nose on a flight now feels like being in a "mini spotlight."

The larger shift, he says, is the volume and frankness of opinion. He grew up in a pre-social-media world where criticism happened behind your back, and adults almost never said it to your face. Online, he now gets "very unfiltered opinions" about who he is and how he phrases things. He admits he has had a streak of reading comments and wondering whether the person would say it to his face, which he calls "dominance hierarchy alpha male" thinking he is trying to get rid of.

His coping strategy is to accept a few truisms: he is doing his best, he is not perfect, and some criticism is probably deserved. He says that never being conventionally good-looking helped. Unlike a celebrity who grew up hearing only praise, he has no attachment to his own infallibility to lose. Years of standing nearly naked on bodybuilding stages to be judged also gave him something like a thick skin. He used to reply to every comment "until I beat the conversation to death and won the debate," but time no longer allows it, and he calls learning to shrug things off good for him emotionally.

Bryan, who also started YouTube about two years earlier, calls comment sections "a new psychological phenomenon." He notes that several of his friends never read comments and have their teams pass along only positive ones. His own disposition is the opposite: comments are his favorite part of social media, especially carefully crafted insults, which he respects for the effort.

The podcast's hidden motive

Bryan is candid about why he is doing the show. He believes humanity is at a "critical juncture" and could evolve into something spectacular or get into a mess. He finds it hard to think about anything else. Most people, he acknowledges, are focused on building muscle, losing weight, managing anxiety, earning more, and finding a partner. Having discovered that he and Mike see the world similarly, he says he is remapping his questions.

He describes their methods as essentially the same. Both take physiological evidence, map it as best they can, stay open to being wrong, and keep evolving. Mike applies this to physique and Bryan to aging. The question is whether Mike has found a bridge between what he is known for and the larger change Bryan sees coming.

The GLP-1 drugs as the "first raindrop"

Mike says he has a few bridges, and his main one is the future of physique, health, and biotechnology. Today, he argues, the highest-return interventions are sleep, exercise, diet, and stress management. Much of his work through videos, books, and software is explaining the theory behind these and giving people autoregulatory feedback so they can check whether they are training and eating properly. He considers this "a known road." Some questions have good answers and others do not yet, but research is tractable.

Most people stop their mental model there, he says. But "something really big changed recently," which he calls the first drop in a coming rainstorm: the widespread use of a new class of anti-obesity drugs such as Ozempic, tirzepatide, and the oral Rybelsus. Before these, as he frames it, pharmaceutical options were weak. Supplements had tiny, contextual effects. Metformin "might do some things" with small effects. Anabolic steroids and growth hormone worked but carried a "laundry list" of side effects worse than the main effect. Older appetite drugs like phentermine stopped working after about three months. The new anorectic drugs, in his account, gave millions of people for whom dietary control was unrealistic the ability to treat body weight as "a turn dial," with side effects that are "very manageable" compared with older drugs.

Before 2022, Mike says, he and his friend Jared, a pro bodybuilder, would talk to anyone about the coming biotech renaissance, and people would tell them to stop watching Ray Kurzweil videos. After Ozempic, the question became whether this was a one-off or the start of a pipeline.

He names drugs he hopes AI drug discovery and receptor-selective design could produce. The first is a "non-androgenic anabolic," a substance that grows muscle with almost no other side effects. He calls muscle a major contributor to organ health. It lowers blood glucose, acts as a calorie sink, and supports mobility. He points to people who, through age or genetics, gain only a few pounds of muscle a year of training no matter what. He says there are plausible pathways, citing the myostatin pathway as "at least one very good candidate" that would not be difficult to exploit "on paper." He also imagines drugs that raise resting metabolic rate and others for mental health.

His picture is of a person in their 50s who needs to change their health and, maybe by the late 2020s, can be supported by drugs that cut food intake and build muscle alongside diet and exercise. He wants to be there as this happens to tell people these options are real, while advising them to talk to their doctor.

Bryan agrees that Ozempic "changed the game" by showing that a single shot can modulate a primal drive like hunger, and he extends the idea to other basic drives.

Why Mike lifts: "being your own sculpture"

Mike's motive for bodybuilding is "pure art aesthetics." Alone in his gym with a pump, he takes his shirt off, hits a few poses, and thinks, "that looks right." He admits he is not a particularly beautiful sculpture. The downside is that he does not always like what he sees. The upside is how much room there is to improve.

He respects people who simply do not care how they look, calling it "a mature outlook," but says many more people are uncomfortable in their bodies. He wants to be part of the "stack of helpfulness" that gets people into the body they want. He does not judge exercise, pharmaceuticals, or eventually genetic engineering as means. His analogy is online avatars, which can look like anything, while the physical body stays fixed. He calls it "a mini super tiny violin low-key tragedy" that people live in bodies they do not love.

He sees his contribution in two phases. First, teach the strategies that already work. Second, as new drugs arrive, help destigmatize them, since he considers the reflexive anti-pharmaceutical reaction "understandable but largely out of date." He adds that these are "powerful weapons that should not be misused."

In a lighter aside, Mike says he met his wife online, and it was not his physique that attracted her. According to him, her main requirement is that he stay bigger than her. What caught her eye was a Facebook photo from the Arnold Classic trade show in which he wore a backpack and glasses and "looked like a nerd." He says he currently weighs about 235 pounds at roughly 9 to 10 percent body fat.

Why Mike took steroids

Mike gives three reasons. First, when he was coming up, drug-free bodybuilding and powerlifting were marginal, so to be taken seriously as someone who knew things "you just had to look like you knew things." The people who looked that way were "gigantic juice monsters." He compares it to a football coach, for whom playing at a high level helps credibility even if it is not required.

Second, he trained naturally for 12 years and was still gaining, but slowly, and he wanted to lengthen the road of progress. He says he has never used a huge amount relative to what is possible and has scaled up gradually because he cares more about working on his "masterpiece" longer than about reaching a peak quickly.

Third, he is "a nerd first," and using molecules to upgrade abilities is "straight up comic book" material that he is fully on board with.

Bryan quits rapamycin, and the problem of being frozen in past positions

Bryan shares a parallel example. He recently stopped taking rapamycin after four years because it was affecting his lipids and blood glucose, raising his resting heart rate, and causing small tissue infections. He also cites a preprint released about two weeks earlier which, he recalls, found that rapamycin accelerated aging on around 12 of 16 aging clocks. He says he now feels relief, with a substantially lower resting heart rate during sleep and better sleep.

Mike praises him for dropping the drug without attachment and predicts people will keep calling him "that rapamycin guy." Mike describes his own version of this. He says he was probably the first to formalize training-volume landmarks with colleagues, including the maximum recoverable volume, minimum effective volume, and maintenance volume. Because the maximum recoverable volume became popular first, he was known as "the high volume guy," and later as "the low volume guy." People still ask why he trains with fewer sets than he "recommends," but he says he never recommended training at the maximum recoverable volume all the time, except perhaps for a few months in 2013. He thinks people who refuse to allow updates are a small, highly disagreeable minority who are overrepresented in comment sections.

Rage, anxiety, and tolerating discomfort

Bryan asks how Mike justifies side effects he has described, such as anxiety and rage, that affect his conscious experience. Mike says his gift is being able to "eat a shitload of discomfort" and delay gratification. He points to years of low-paid graduate work alone in a lab and choosing vacations based on where he can train and eat well. He says he once got so far out of touch with his feelings that he had to relearn that he has internal states. He describes his wife as an equally driven workaholic who went through many hard periods on the way to her achievements. Their shared response has been: "breathe it out, re-grit the teeth, keep plowing."

For anabolics specifically, he says he had finite timelines and explicit goals that were open to review. He eventually did modify them. Rage on extreme doses of androgens was "not a surprise." What makes him feel better long term is sticking to a hard plan to unlock benefits later. Later in the conversation, he says his anxiety has dropped "to nonclinical levels" since he substantially reduced his intake.

Advice for a 19-year-old considering steroids

Bryan asks what Mike would tell his son Talmage, who is 19, or any 19-year-old thinking about steroids. Mike says that in almost all cases it is a miscalculated trade-off. His main point is that people need to be explicit about the upside, both what they literally gain and what they think that muscle will get them, such as more dates or feeling better in their skin. Many leave the payoff as a "hazy cloud of good things."

He uses two analogies. One is startups between roughly 2000 and 2020 that collected data without knowing its purpose. That had little downside for a software company, but steroids do have downsides. The other is imagining a party as a pizza-commercial fantasy without knowing what you will actually do there. Parties are fun. Steroid side effects are not.

His concrete advice is to wait until 25, collect the natural gains with "almost zero health downsides," and then ask whether you are mature enough and still want it. If so, he says, "start threading in the anabolics," adding that in the United Kingdom, in his words, they are legal. If a young person cannot give a well-articulated, passionate, and sensible reason not to delay, his answer is don't. He compares it to someone earning $100,000 a year asking about a $200,000 car. There may be a case for a lifelong collector buying a dream car, but "it's kind of cool" is not a reason when the cost is two years of income and the benefit is "notional." Too many people start steroids, he says, because of vibes on TikTok.

"Don't Die" versus "I'm a sideshow"

Bryan lays out their shared view that a period of health flourishing is coming. Injections or gene editing might one day deliver the benefits of exercise, which Mike says violates no biological law. He then asks how Mike reconciles doing things that accelerate aging, such as anabolics, with that future.

Mike's answer draws on about 20 years of meditation. He sees the history of increasingly complex systems, from atoms to self-replicating molecules to biological life to "technological life," as the most beautiful thing to witness. But he is "not a critical component of it." He says he would unthinkingly take a bullet for Sam Altman because Altman matters more to the path toward AGI. He does not index heavily on never dying. Some of his choices do not fit that goal, and he says he makes trade-offs he does not recommend others make. Still, he tells the audience that if you survive another 10 to 15 years, "you may never die," which he thinks should motivate anyone.

Bryan frames his own position with a thought experiment. Homo erectus a million years ago could not have said anything intelligent about quantum mechanics, markets, or even cities of 1,500 people. Likewise, we cannot say much about the next 10 to 15 years. His goal is not immortality but simply not dying so he can witness what comes. He suggests existence may be "the highest virtue," and that money, status, and power will stop being the game once AI rewrites human games. He asks whether Mike sees a contradiction.

Mike offers two partial answers. First, there is a discount for the "hit by a bus" scenario. If he over-invested in the future and died in an accident, he might wish he had enjoyed being jacked while it lasted. Second, holding two preferences with a trade-off between them is not a contradiction. He notes that he eats well, stays lean, no longer takes high doses, has always had excellent blood work, and comes from a long-lived family. But if a time traveler told him everything would happen without him, he says he would essentially shrug, because technological progress is "transcendent in a religious way" to him. He recalls crying in public with Jared at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor when they saw an early delivery robot, because years of theorizing had become real. What matters most to him is "the great awakening," a machine intelligence learning from and interacting with nearly all humans. "As long as that thing's kicking," he says, he is a sideshow.

Would a future self even recognize today's values?

Bryan asks whether a 2030 Mike might look back and find today's values, including self-sacrifice, unrecognizable. Mike says some beliefs from high school, such as objective reality, roughly consequentialist causation, and the power of mathematics, have held up, while he got plenty wrong. He expects both kinds of results in the future.

He then walks through a thought experiment about his own values. He cares about how he looks because of genetics and environment. If brains were uploaded to the cloud, which he considers "inevitable" unless AI has no use for it, he imagines living a year every few days at a thousandfold speed, including as a champion bodybuilder. But if the brain regions governing sexual preferences or body-image concerns could be edited, "I literally no longer care about how I look." He compares this to asking an uplifted chimp what it wants from VR: bananas, mates, and revenge on the chimp that kicked it at 13. That is understandable but parochial. He says he is less curious about his own future opinions than about what a superintelligence would say: "Hey, GPT-7, what are we supposed to do with all this?"

Bryan says his team has built an AI trained on his writing and interviews, and he suspects current AI can already be better at being him in many respects, though not yet at physical tasks or nuanced relationships with people it has history with. Mike says GPT-4 is already "so much kinder, so much gentler" than he is. Bryan's conclusion is that the only thing the species should do is "lock in and say let's not die." He treats staying up all night, eating badly, environmental damage, and war as versions of the same self-destructive "YOLO" pattern. He argues that because billions of individual choices form a zeitgeist, ordinary people's behavior does affect outcomes, and people with platforms carry special responsibility.

Mike then red-teams himself. Optimizing for five to ten years of YOLO against a possible 500,000 years of "ecstatic scientific exploration" in the cloud is "myopic." He compares it to a three-year-old approaching a socket with a fork. He speculates that people may eventually be paid enough to live on just so AI systems can study their behavior as training data, which would make nearly everyone valuable. So avoiding irrational risks and investing in basic health is "probably the smartest thing you can ever do." He adds that dismissing this because it comes from "a gigantic steroid addict" would be the genetic fallacy.

Meeting people where they are

Mike proposes a division of labor. Bryan argues for total commitment. Mike, a self-described libertarian whose political philosophy is "wealth and freedom," would ask people to look at their trade-offs. If drinking and late nights are truly worth it after thinking it through, fine, but is there anything on the margins that could push longevity forward? Some people "can't be reached in a totalistic way yet." He jokes that he will be Bryan's "fallen angel."

Bryan notes that the goals people chase now, such as muscle, money, status, and power, are "ephemeral social cultural phenomena" rather than truths, but that people need objectives and like difficult things. He wants to offer a new game that starts with not dying and rests on humility about what is coming.

Mike's biological-age results

Mike then opens his test results, sighing that he expects to have done terribly. The results as read out:

  • VISIA skin scan: skin age 44 against a chronological age of 40. Bryan says they have seen much worse. Mike's routine is occasional generic soap.
  • Spirometry: 99th percentile, 13.2 liters per second.
  • Advanced glycation end products: a score of 1.3, corresponding to age 23. A score of 1.2 would correspond to 18. Bryan says there are few therapies for this, since it is mostly accumulated damage from things like foods cooked at high temperatures.
  • Grip strength: 132.8 pounds, about five pounds above the 127-pound 99th-percentile mark for men.
  • Push-ups: 46, which is 99th percentile for his age group. The 99th percentile for all men is 56.
  • Sit and reach: 15 inches, 50th percentile. Eight more inches would reach the 99th.
  • Sit-to-stand: 9.5, 63rd percentile. Mike says his large quads and torso create a leverage problem and he has only tried it once.
  • One-leg stand (eyes closed): 13 seconds, 9th percentile, against 35 seconds for the 99th. His first attempt lasted about 4 to 5 seconds.

On push-ups, Mike says he stopped deliberately. The marginal risk of even a minor pec strain is not worth it for his physique goals, which is also why he refuses stunts like tire flips in collaborations. Bryan says he thinks about life "through that frame everywhere."

The balance result leads Mike to wonder about his neural health, since "anabolics are no good for that," and whether his intense work habits leave enough time for repair. He says self-estimates of cognition are unreliable, but he does not feel duller and thinks his ability to grasp complex concepts has grown. He also says he expects neuroregenerative therapies in five to ten years to be powerful enough that he "can lose a few IQ points and afford it."

Intelligence, wisdom, and "AI will fix it"

Bryan argues that clear judgment is needed now more than ever, comparing the moment to the early Cold War or a pandemic. Mike suggests that wisdom leans on crystallized rather than fluid intelligence. He compares older people to a less powerful AI model trained on far more data, which may outperform a stronger model trained on little. Bryan counters that knowing too much can also be a liability, because established patterns make older people resistant to new ideas, which is why young people disrupt them. He sees it as a genuine trade-off.

Bryan recounts an AI worker who stopped wearing sunscreen because "AI is just going to solve it." He says the old excuse, "I'm going to die anyway," is being replaced by "AI will fix it." Mike offers a third version, "AI is the show and I'm a sideshow," while noting he is not endorsing it. Both conclude that people will find clever justifications for whatever they already want to do.

What the podcast should be

Asked for feedback, Mike first asks Bryan to state the goal in a sentence. Bryan calls it "information compression." He wants a billion people to commit to not dying individually, as a species, with Earth and with AI, and to opt into a future that "could be the most extraordinary existence" in this part of the galaxy.

Mike suggests several categories of guests and topics:

  • How to live: meaning, psychological health, motivation, and career paths for people who wonder what their role is "if AI is the show."
  • Serious researchers: scientists in anti-aging, age reversal, cosmetics, and physique alteration, including plastic surgeons and facial de-aging specialists, to explain what is in the pipeline and what is validated. He describes the health space as having something like a 10-to-1 ratio of nonsense to validated work, such as $50,000 machines backed by one old study, and suggests episodes on the biggest anti-aging myths.
  • Emotional difficulty: conversations with psychologists, war veterans, and others about surviving the darkest times, drawing on Bryan's own past suicidal thoughts, since "you want a billion of us to make it."

Mike also argues that aesthetics is the "cheater way" to reach people in their 30s and 40s. For them, death feels too distant, and some have relatives in their 60s who smoke and drink and are still fine. Nearly everyone wants their 22-year-old body back. He expects the cosmetics and plastic surgery industries to rush toward any biological breakthroughs. Once people want tighter skin or a leaner waist, he says, they start sleeping, eating, and training better. Finger-wagging like a parent does not work on young adults, but enhancement does. Bryan calls this "the shortest path." Mike notes that RP's clients in their 50s already want both his aesthetic goals and Bryan's longevity goals.

Call-out culture: when to criticize

Revisiting how they met, Mike says his original video was respectful where due, but he struggles with the fact that people love it when he is harsh online. He wants more "laughing together, not against other people." He believes exposing charlatans has social value and does it "begrudgingly." But he regrets some early criticism of Hollywood trainers on his Friday show, imagining how it would feel to be personally mocked by a household name. He poses a hypothetical: if an assassin could end the war by killing Vladimir Putin, should we refuse because Putin is still "on our humanity survival team"? He clarifies that his real question is about exclusionary negativity, not violence.

Bryan jokes that he is taking money from Putin, then answers seriously. Some people in power are beholden to systems around them. Others choose not to be beholden to anyone, which costs some partners but attracts others. He perceives Mike as evidence-driven, without hidden motives, and self-aware enough to correct himself. He says the danger zone is overconfidence combined with a lack of self-awareness. His advice is to lean in, because Mike's most valuable asset is trust, and softening what he says out of fear of reactions would compromise it. Bryan mentions he once made a video harshly criticizing an older version of himself. Mike calls the feedback very valuable and says he will think it over.

Should they arm wrestle?

Bryan jokingly challenges Mike to arm wrestle, then immediately withdraws. Mike recalls winning an arm-wrestling match at an undergraduate party as a competitive powerlifter and pulling a small forearm supinator muscle that bothered him into the next day's training. Seeing no upside, he never did it again. He also stopped jumping onto 3- to 4-foot platforms after scraping his knee once. He offers a properly supervised no-gi jiu-jitsu roll with waivers and mats, but asks what the point would be. He and his wife Crystal, who both train jiu-jitsu seriously, even avoid bike riding for fear of an elbow injury. Bryan tells of a friend who wrestled a muscular grappler at a party, hurt his back, and has since had two surgeries.

Mike asks how they can make risk aversion sound fun rather than boring. Bryan says about a quarter of people react to him with some version of "so focused on living forever, he forgot how to live." His answer is that, just as Mike avoids anything threatening his craft, Bryan treats living into the future as his craft, and no sensory pleasure is worth losing it. Mike adds that over time the people still around will disproportionately be those who cared about surviving.

Bridges, dystopia, and Demis Hassabis

Bryan argues that well-meaning people would agree if they understood the moment, but AI researchers' language about matrix multiplication does not reach them. Practical topics like muscle and sleep can serve as a bridge to the bigger picture. Mike adds a red-team concern: Bryan's optimism can sound like faith, and many people imagine dystopias. He offers to contribute a "third pillar" of reasonable, trajectory-based forecasts to go alongside what works now and what is in the pipeline.

Bryan says he has known DeepMind's Demis Hassabis for about ten years and would like to see him in a position of power, citing Hassabis's thesis that solving intelligence would solve everything else that is tractable. Mike compares this to wanting a trustworthy person, rather than almost anyone else, to put on the Ring of Power. Bryan pushes back on the idea that only a small number of people will shape the future. Governments, cultures, and a billion individuals deciding what to build, how to regulate, and whether to go to war all matter, so "we are actually all of us in the game."

Bryan's way out of depression

Mike mentions that he experienced depression as a pharmacologically induced side effect of Adderall when he was younger. Part of his mind always knew "it's just the drugs," which he says is different from depression that is not drug-induced. He then asks how Bryan got out.

Bryan says the earliest version of Blueprint, "V0," was an attempt to solve his depression. For about ten years he systematically tried everything with and without evidence: energy healers, TMS, tDCS, medication, CBT, and acupuncture. In the end he believes the cause was mostly circumstantial. He was raised in and still belonged to the Mormon religion, which he says boxed him into a kind of paralysis, and he was in a challenging personal relationship. The combination "broke" him. After selling his company, divorcing, and leaving the religion, he rewrote his life. The depression lifted gradually, he was "fully out" within a year, and he says it has never returned, even partially.

Mike summarizes the behavioral genetics literature he has read as happiness being roughly genetic proclivity multiplied by life circumstances, and says people underestimate how much a bad marriage "follows you everywhere." Bryan agrees he had not connected how large a contributor the relationship was. Asked whether he had hoped things would improve, he compares it to building a team: "Never in my entire life has someone changed to become the right fit." Mike largely agrees.

Bryan describes the lifting of his depression as "probably the coolest experience in my life," like being infused with hope after a decade in a dark cave. Mike closes by saying he had known Bryan only as "the vampire guy on the internet," found this side of him wonderful, and hopes future episodes dig further into personal journeys and happiness.