Why “reprogramming” is the buzziest approach to reversing aging right now

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  • Reprogramming is the new frontier in anti-aging research: Scientists are exploring ways to return cells to a younger state, building on a Nobel Prize–winning discovery that certain genetic factors can transform adult cells into stem cells capable of becoming virtually any cell type.
  • Big money is flooding in: Billions of dollars from billionaires like Yuri Milner and Sam Altman are backing companies like Altos Labs and Retro Biosciences, signaling serious investor confidence in reprogramming’s potential to extend healthy human lifespans.
  • Past anti-aging trends have stumbled: Earlier excitement around telomere lengthening and “zombie cell” removal faded after disappointing human trials—a cautionary reminder that promising mouse studies don’t always translate, and reprogramming faces the same unproven leap.

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Earlier this week, Life Biosciences, a biotech company focused on reversing age-related diseases, announced that it had dosed its first volunteer. A person with glaucoma has had an experimental treatment injected straight into their eyeball.

The idea is to try to treat the disease—which can cause vision loss—by regenerating healthy nerves in the eye. But David Sinclair, the chairman and cofounder of the company behind the trial, hopes to go further. If the treatment can reverse glaucoma, perhaps similar treatments can reverse other diseases of aging. Maybe, just maybe, they can reverse aging altogether.

The approach is designed to work by “reprogramming” cells to a younger state. It’s one of many strategies being explored by biotech companies looking to slow and reverse the process of aging. But of all of them, it seems to be the one that is truly taking off.

Aging is complicated. As we get older, we experience so many changes across pretty much all our biological systems. Scientists have tried to categorize these effects. In 2013, one team published a seminal paper describing nine “hallmarks of aging.” That list features many of the processes scientists have attempted to target. But some of those targets have fallen in and out of fashion over the years.

Take telomere attrition, for example. Telomeres are DNA sequences at the ends of our chromosomes, often likened to the plastic caps that stop the ends of our shoelaces from fraying. When cells divide, telomeres shorten until, eventually, the DNA is vulnerable to damage.

When I started reporting on aging, telomere shortening was all the rage. Shrinking telomeres had been linked to age-related diseases of the heart and brain. Shortened telomeres were considered a sign of premature aging. In 2015 Liz Parrish, CEO of the biotech company BioViva, injected herself with an experimental gene therapy that she hoped might lengthen her telomeres.

Then it suddenly seemed to go out of style. Research continued, but all the excitement within the aging and longevity community seemed to move on to another hallmark. (Parrish also continued with self-experimentation; she calls herself “the most genetically modified person on Earth.”)

That hallmark was cellular senescence. This happens when cells stop dividing but don’t die, instead entering a “zombie” state in which they churn out chemicals that can cause harmful inflammation.

Senescent cells gradually accumulate in pretty much every organ studied, where they are thought to contribute to age-related damage. Why not just periodically clear them out? When a team of scientists took that approach in mice in 2011, they found they could delay the onset of age-related conditions like cataracts and hunchback. The treated mice even looked younger.

But when scientists at Unity Biotechnology trialed a similar approach in people with osteoarthritis and an age-related eye condition in the late 2010s and early 2020s, the results were disappointing. The company laid off every employee in May last year and has since shuttered entirely.

Again, that doesn’t mean senolytic drugs that target “zombie cells” won’t work. But it feels as if many in the field have moved on. These days, the buzz is all about ✨reprogramming✨.

The idea here is to essentially return cells to a young state. It’s based on the Nobel Prize–winning discovery that four genetic factors can turn an adult cell into a stem cell, which can be encouraged to develop into pretty much any other cell type.

Some promising studies in mice suggest that this approach might help wind back the clock. It seems to improve tissue healing, restore vision, and even improve learning and memory.

Running parallel to all this research are repeated injections of hundreds of millions of dollars in funding. In 2021, my colleague Antonio Regalado reported on the founding of the biotech company Altos Labs to pursue reprogramming for rejuvenation.

Altos was funded by the billionaire Yuri Milner—reportedly along with Jeff Bezos, among others—to the tune of $3 billion, a previously unheard-of figure for a biotech startup. Other well-funded companies have since sprung up in this space.

There’s Retro Biosciences, for instance, which is pursuing reprogramming (among other approaches) in an effort to add 10 years of healthy life to human lifespans. Retro’s launch was supported by $180 million from OpenAI’s Sam Altman. Last month, the company announced a valuation of $1.8 billion.

NewLimit, another billionaire-backed biotech exploring reprogramming, says it has promising results from research in mice. It plans to trial a drug designed to rejuvenate the liver in people next year. Last week, the company announced it had raised $435 million toward reaching that goal, among others.

Life Biosciences, which was founded by the Harvard biologist David Sinclair, most recently secured $80 million to support its research. The eye trial is now officially underway, but Sinclair also has plans for whole-body rejuvenation. Earlier this week, he told my colleague Antonio that he plans to test a “highly, highly confidential” oral reprogramming drug as part of a $101 million competition organized by the XPrize Foundation. 

Reprogramming has certainly caught the attention of scientists, biotech companies, and investors. Studies in mice are hugely promising. Human trials are launching. And research in the field has billions of dollars’ worth of support.A lot of people in the field are really excited about reprogramming. But it comes with risks. And we still don’t know if it will work. The question now is: Do we finally have a rejuvenation drug within reach? And if not, what will the next research trend look like?

This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here.

Correction: This article has been updated to reflect that Liz Parrish claimed to have undergone her first experimental gene therapy in 2015, not 2017.

Inside interoception: The hidden sense of how you feel inside

MIT Technology Review Explains: Let our writers untangle the complex, messy world of science and technology to help you understand what’s coming next. You can read more from the series here.

Your brain lives in the dark space of your skull. Yet it knows when the wind lifts the hairs on your skin, when your heart is racing, when your gut tightens with fear.

It’s also, right now, predicting what you’ll read next as your eyes move across this page. It’s picking up signals that help it make sense of what’s happening around you and prepare you to act if you need to stay safe. You aren’t usually aware that your brain is doing all that.

Our senses take in information at a staggering rate—roughly 11 million bits flood in every second from our skin, eyes, ears, and more. That’s nearly three paperback novels’ worth of data every second. Only a sliver reaches our conscious awareness.  Researchers estimate that our conscious minds can process roughly 10 to 60 bits of information per second, about the rate at which you’re reading this sentence. That’s a ratio of about one conscious bit to hundreds of thousands of unconscious bits.

And that’s a mercy. As Moriah Thomason, a neuroscientist at NYU Langone, says, “Thank goodness we’re built like this. There’s a layer of what we have access to in conscious awareness. And then we have a right-under-the-surface amount. There is only a certain amount we are meant to ‘hold in mind’ in order to function successfully.” 

What you are aware of: Your stomach growling when you’re hungry. Your palms sweating before you speak in public. The breath you just took, if you pay attention to it. Even your heartbeat, which some people can sense from the inside without feeling their pulse in their wrist.

Scientists have a word for how we sense ourselves from the inside: interoception

The term was coined in 1906 by the British neurophysiologist Charles Sherrington. For most of the 20th century it remained largely confined to textbooks. Today, thanks to a 2021 Nobel Prize and new tools that can map the interoceptive system across the body, the study of this facility is suddenly quite hot. As researchers decode how signals move between body and brain, a clearer picture is starting to take shape—with implications for how we understand and treat conditions from obesity to chronic pain to anxiety.

The field began to take off in the 1990s. In 1994, the neurologist Antonio Damasio published a book with a pointed title: Descartes’ Error. He challenged the historical separation of thinking and feeling, arguing that our ability to choose and act is driven by feelings, and those feelings in turn are shaped by the body’s signals, such as your gut clenching or your skin going clammy. When we lose that connection between feeling and thinking, as one of Damasio’s patients did after surgery to treat a brain tumor, we may still be able to reason with perfect logic about the pros and cons of traveling on a Tuesday or a Wednesday. But without the emotional signals that help us predict what a choice will feel like, our reason spins and circles, and we cannot decide.

A contemporary of Damasio’s, the neuroscientist Bud Craig, spent his career asking one question: How do you feel? He charted how the brain builds an inner map of the body and updates it in real time every moment you are alive.

Think of the captain’s bridge on the USS Enterprise, where a live map displays the status of the ship’s critical systems: oxygen levels, energy availability, hull integrity, shield strength. Another set of indicators senses things outside the ship: asteroid belts, enemy ships, radiation, life signs, and spatial anomalies not yet understood.

Your brain, only about the size of your two fists pressed together, creates a map like this for your entire body, along with a map of the outside world, from data streaming in through your five senses. Together, they feed into your brain’s working model of you in the world, now and across time—where you are, who you are, your expectations for what’s about to happen (based on everything you know), and what all that means for you.

When someone asks “How are you doing?” we consult our maps and report back on our status. We might say we’re happy, depleted, anxious, or energetic. These feelings are always a braid of emotional and physical sensations. They’re what your interoceptive navigational system serves up to your awareness when you sense yourself from the inside.

As we grow up, we learn to interpret what these sensations mean—interpretations that, in turn, can alter our physiology, emotions, and behavior. Research by the psychologist Alia Crum shows that people who embrace a “stress is enhancing” mindset produce more growth hormones than people who have a “stress is debilitating” mindset. They also experience more positive emotions and greater cognitive flexibility.

Language also matters. We learn words for the textures of our feelings—words that then shape how we feel and act. People low in emotional “granularity”—as the psychologist Marc Brackett calls the ability to distinguish between closely related feelings—react more impulsively under stress and are less able to find meaning in difficult experiences. But mindsets and emotional intelligence are malleable. We can learn that “anxious” is different from “terrified,” and we can even reframe how we interpret our body’s sensations. Instead of thinking of the butterflies in our bellies as annoying, we can welcome them as our body’s way of preparing us for a peak performance.

Scientists have long understood that the interoceptive information informing these lived experiences travels via two major systems: nerves and humors (blood and lymph). Now they’re actively studying a third system—the “interstitium,” a network of fluid-filled spaces woven throughout the body’s connective fascia that may also play a role in communication.

But until recently, scientific understanding of this interoceptive system looked like a high-level schematic that left out vital details—how information travels from the outside environment in, how it moves from your body to your brain, and how it is integrated and interpreted within your brain. Researchers are now racing to explore what the neuroscientist Catherine Tallon-Baudry calls this “new continent of awareness.”

The wandering highway

One of the most active areas of research centers on the vagus nerve, the main component of the parasympathetic nervous system and an information highway carrying news from your organs up to your brain and back down to your body. The vagus has become a celebrity nerve, ubiquitous in wellness podcasts and trauma therapy. “Tone your vagus nerve.” “Activate your parasympathetic system.” The language suggests a single thing you can target, like a muscle. The reality, as Steve Liberles at Harvard Medical School is discovering, is far more interesting.

Liberles has spent most of his career mapping what he calls “the great wide unknown” of one of our largest and longest nerves. He speaks the way he works—methodically, without overselling. But the questions driving him are huge. How do we sense our body’s inner state? What information flows through which channels? And how does the brain decide what to do with it?

“When I’m nervous giving a talk in front of a thousand people,” he says, “my heart might race. I might get butterflies in my stomach. I might get goosebumps on my skin.” We all know what he’s talking about.

“It’s bizarre,” he muses. “Your brain has to send a signal to the gut, and then the gut back to the brain, to tell you you’re nervous?” He pauses. “This just shows there is this intimate connectivity between the brain and the body that’s real.”

The vagus is often called the calming nerve, because it controls “rest and digest” functions that quiet our body after the sympathetic nervous system revs us up with “fight or flight” impulses to handle danger or stress. 

But it is also doing something else: It’s listening to us inside. Anatomists have known for over a century that roughly 80% of its fibers carry information upward, from body to brain. Think of it as a two-lane highway with far more traffic headed north. What scientists are just beginning to understand in detail is what those signals are saying. 

Liberles is decoding the vagus with molecular precision and finding that its messaging system is unexpectedly diverse. So far, his research has uncovered dozens of types of vagus nerve cells, each wired to a specific organ. Team Red relays information about the heart; Team Blue, the gut.

Within those teams, each courier has a unique job that’s different from those all its teammates perform. Liberles found 10 types in the lungs alone. Until then, only one lung reflex had ever been identified, in 1868. One nerve courier carries information about breathing rate; another the stretch of your lungs; yet another information about airway threats, like food going down the wrong pipe.

“It’s super exciting to think about what each of these neurons is doing,” he told me in a conversation last fall, a flash of intensity breaking through the calm. “Where does it go in the body? What is it sensing? What is it controlling?”

The doors of the cell

Liberles is mapping the vagus information highways. But highways need on-ramps for signals to enter. For years, one of neurobiology’s biggest mysteries was the molecular on-ramp for our sense of touch.

Somewhere, something in our bodies was converting physical force into an electrical signal that the nervous system could understand. But no one knew how. 

Solving that mystery required a scientist willing to trust a hunch when the data couldn’t show the way. 

Ardem Patapoutian grew up in Lebanon and fled the country’s civil war at 18, landing in Los Angeles, where he delivered pizzas and wrote horoscopes for a local newspaper before falling in love with science at UCLA.

In the 1990s, as a postdoc at the University of California, San Francisco, he became fascinated with our sense of touch—the last of the five major senses not yet understood at the molecular level. The lung stretch signal that Liberles’s vagus neurons carry to the brain? No one had ever figured out how that signal began.

“How do you feel the embrace of a loved one? How do your fingers distinguish one texture of hair from another?” Patapoutian invites us to wonder in his 2021 Nobel Prize lecture. The problem: Most cellular communication works through chemistry. But mechanical force offers no molecule to bind. How does the body translate physical pressure into the electrochemical language that neurons speak?

Scientists knew that the answer had to be an ion channel—a protein gate embedded in cell membranes that opens to let electrically charged particles into the cell. But tracking down the one responsible for touch turned out to be absurdly difficult. Ion channels are a hundred thousandth the size of a cell, invisible to ordinary microscopes. Worse, they don’t resemble each other. You can’t recognize one by its shape or its sequence of amino acids. Even with one right in front of you, nothing would tell you it was there.

At Scripps, where he works now, Patapoutian decided to try an unusual approach. He’d try to find cells that showed sensitivity to touch and destroy their internal genetic blueprint one gene at a time—hunting for the move that would make the cell go numb. It was tedious, expensive, and possibly a dead end. “A lot of people made fun of us,” he says.

Two years in, Patapoutian’s collaborator Bertrand Coste had burned through half his postdoctoral appointment with no results. Patapoutian said: Another 30 genes, and then we decide whether to continue.

What kept them going, Patapoutian told me, was informed intuition. “As you gain more experience, you have this sense of what’s going to work, what’s not going to work. Sometimes the data cannot answer the question of when to stop or when to continue. There has to be another process. If you start trusting it, it gives you an avenue to continue.”

Coste knocked out candidate gene 72. Flatline. The cell had gone numb.

They’d found it—the mechanism behind something you feel every day.

They named the protein they identified PIEZO, from the Greek piezi, meaning pressure. There are two variations, PIEZO1 and PIEZO2, each responsible for sensing different kinds of pressure in the body. They’re elegant in their design—over 2,500 amino acids folded into a three-bladed propeller-shaped gate embedded in cell membranes. When pressure stretches the membrane, the gate opens and electrically charged ions flood through, translating physical pressure into an electrical signal that the brain can understand—all within milliseconds.

Patapoutian calls scientific discovery a dream that survives reality. He won the Nobel Prize in medicine in 2021 for his discovery of PIEZO, sharing the award with David Julius of UCSF for his work on how cells sense temperature. Now researchers are finding PIEZO proteins everywhere—skin, organs, blood vessels, and even red blood cells, where they help the cells squeeze through narrow capillaries. They’re how your brain knows where your hand is in space without looking at it, a sense called proprioception. They’re in plants too, enabling roots to sense pressure as they push down into the earth.

PIEZO was just the beginning. With a $14.5 million grant from the US National Institutes of Health, Patapoutian and his collaborators are now mapping the body’s entire interoceptive system—as many internal senses as he can find, he says.8

Patapoutian has translated his discovery into a unique form of public outreach. At scientific conferences, he sometimes rolls up his sleeve mid-lecture to reveal half his arm covered in ink—a gigantic PIEZO protein in exquisite anatomical detail, its blades spreading across his biceps. Then he flexes. The tattoo flexes with him, the structure bending exactly as the real protein does when pressure opens the gate.

“At a pub or a party,” he explains, smiling, “how else would I demonstrate this beautiful structure?”

Orchestrating the field

Steve Liberles is mapping a major interoception highway. Ardem Patapoutian discovered the gates of touch. Meanwhile, Wen Chen at the National Institutes of Health is pulling the field together, putting neuroscientists, immunologists, physiologists, and clinicians into the same room. The demand, she says, has been enormous.

She tested her pitch at a dinner party with NIH colleagues a few years ago. You’re hungry right now—that’s interoception. You’re thirsty—that’s interoception. Heads nodded as she pointed around the table.

“We can’t have just the brain or just the body,” she told me. “We need to look at the whole person.”

In 2018 she organized a symposium on interoception where Liberles was one of the invitees, along with researchers and practitioners of meditation and yoga. “It was not their thing,” she says, laughing as she recalls how uncomfortable some of the researchers looked. But the practitioners were excited to finally meet scientists who were studying the inner mechanisms of what they did.

That was followed by a series of NIH workshops on interoception that spanned topics from basic science to clinical practice. Patapoutian was the keynote speaker for the first one. 

The NIH began funding scientists to chart the neural circuits of interoception and bringing them together to talk about their findings. Partway through one of these meetings, the equipment failed for an hour. More than 1,000 people stayed online, waiting for it to come back.

“We were shocked at the turnout,” she says. “There was much bigger interest than we could have imagined.”

Chen is now building infrastructure to match the demand: a formal community, funding mechanisms, a venue where cardiologists and neuroscientists and clinicians can all find each other. And she’s redefining the field as she goes; interoception is not a one-way signal from body to brain but a continuous two-way communication system, each direction shaping the other in real time.10   

Liberles’s nervousness on stage is that two-way loop in action. Signals from his racing heart and belly butterflies travel up to the brain, which weaves them into an interpretation: This is anxiety, and this is what to do to handle it. His actions produce fresh signals that the brain reads in light of its ongoing predictions about what will happen next. In the body-brain communication loop, each player constantly updates the other.

I asked Wen what her work on interoception might mean for another inner sense: intuition. “People talk about ‘gut feelings,’” I said. “How does that relate to interoception?”

 “Intuition might be the bridge where interoception moves from unconscious processing to conscious awareness,” she answered. “If that’s true, then intuition is not magic. It’s physiology.”

But it depends on how we read the signals. Intuition is like pain. It tells you something, but it’s not always clear what. “Perhaps we can treat intuition as a source of data,” she says. “Meaningful, but probably not complete.”

“Maybe we can be grounded in both—in feeling and fact.”

Which raises a more personal question: What do you do with the signals your body is sending?

One avenue for exploration is therapeutic intervention—both pharmacological and neural stimulation. Vagal nerve stimulation has treated epilepsy and depression for four decades, but as Liberles puts it, it’s like pressing all the keys on the piano to hit one note. Weight-loss drugs like Ozempic act in part through vagal pathways but can cause nausea as a side effect, because the targeting isn’t precise enough. Map the body’s circuits with enough accuracy and you might hit the note you actually want.

Another area of active research is psychological and behavioral—teaching people how to detect and even shape interoceptive signals. Low interoceptive awareness is linked to mental-health disorders and stress-related physical conditions.11 But like emotional intelligence, it’s not fixed. Researchers are finding that people can boost their body awareness by, for example, learning to detect their heartbeats from the inside—now a common measure of interoceptive awareness.12 Other interventions focus on body-based therapies and conscious activation of the parasympathetic “rest and digest” system to improve emotional and physical well-being. The placebo effect is another example of the mind acting on the body through expectation alone.

The signals we once dismissed as vague feelings—when your gut tightens before you know why, when your body says yes or no before your mind catches up—those are real. How we interpret them and whether we act on them is another frontier.

It’s clear that gut feelings play a role in scientific research, especially when the path forward looks foggy. Patapoutian’s informed intuition kept him and his colleagues going long enough to find PIEZO, a reminder that major discoveries often start with a hunch that is later tested against evidence. Chen puts it well: Maybe we can be grounded in both feeling and fact.

Katherine W. Isaacs is a writer and senior lecturer at the MIT Sloan School of Management. Her teaching and research focus on the intersection of psychology, technology, and innovation. Originally trained as a biologist and later as a social psychologist, she is currently working on a book called Gut Feel, about intuition, interoception, and embodied decision-making.

The “steroid olympics” were a circus—and a window into our culture

Testosterone. Methenolone. Nandrolone. Human growth hormone and EPO. Meldonium, modafinil, and mixed amphetamine salts. Clomiphene, anastrozole, levothyroxine, and liothyronine. Patches and capsules, creams and pills. A whole galaxy of steroids, metabolic modulators, and synthetic hormones coursing through the blood of a few dozen swimmers, sprinters, and weightlifters. And millions of dollars up for grabs for athletes who could break world records and usher in the age of superhumanity.

On Sunday, May 24, at a $50 million arena built in a casino parking lot in Las Vegas, I witnessed a libertarian thought experiment come to life. The inaugural Enhanced Games were the first sporting competition where participants were encouraged to take performance-enhancing drugs. The founders say they’re challenging dated sporting norms and helping to build a world where we can all live better, longer lives. Critics say the event is an embarrassment, that it glamorizes the use of dangerous substances and puts lives at risk. 

The open-air venue was compact and decked out in bright blue, with a six-lane, 100-meter track down one side, a four-lane Olympic-length swimming pool down the other, and a weightlifting platform and stage at the front. You could see the golden façade of the Trump Hotel looming in the background. The scene had all the trappings of an NFL game, with the too-loud music and crowd work on the big screen—a “flex cam”  gave the well-muscled an excuse to unveil their biceps. Between events, adverts flashed up for the line of performance products sold by Enhanced, the company behind the event: injectable peptides that supposedly support cellular energy and skin elasticity, daily supplement powders with names like “Stronger” and “Longer.”

James Magnussen, wearing his race goggles and cap, stretches his arms above him

SAEED RAHBARAN
the Enhanced Games stadium from an elevated viewing angle

SAEED RAHBARAN

Australian swimmer James Magnussen was the first athlete to sign up with Enhanced but hasn’t broken any world records. He finished last in his two events in Las Vegas.

The day started with the weightlifters, under the blazing sun. But by 4 p.m., only one of them had even attempted a world-record lift. Two had pulled out injured. Some athletes were competing without taking drugs because of the money on offer, and as the competition went on, they had the better of their enhanced peers: Hunter Amstrong, a 25-year-old American swimmer and triple Olympic medalist, won the backstroke by more than a second. In the men’s 100-meter sprint, the non-enhanced US athlete Fred Kerley romped to an easy victory. “Man, they gotta do better than that,” he said of his doped opponents in his post-race interview. “They need to train a little harder, get on that shit a little bit more.”

At the bar, bodybuilders swapped before-and-after pictures and talked about their stacks, and VCs and finance bros traded LinkedIn details. Lukas Lakutsin, a 6-foot-10, 354-pound Russian bodybuilder who was milling around the entrance to the VIP suites, initially told me he didn’t use any performance-enhancing drugs. Except testosterone replacement therapy, of course. But he didn’t think that really counted. “I’m almost 34 years old,” he said. “I need to do this to stay strong.”

close up shot of a man's muscled chest
The “protocol” for Enhanced athletes only includes FDA-approved drugs. While Enhanced’s team might make recommendations, individuals have the final say on what they want to take, if anything.
SAEED RAHBARAN

Jeremy Sigal, an influencer and author, wore a USA tank top that showed off hugely muscled arms adorned with prison tattoos. He told me he was proudly natural, in both his health and his personal life. “I’ve got an exceptional credit score,” he said. He has written 12 books on marketing and leadership. Later, I looked up his most recent book online. It’s called Simp to Pimp: 10 Steps to Fix Why She’s Not Banging You and lists AI as a coauthor.

What I saw in Las Vegas probably wasn’t the future of sport. But it was a perfect encapsulation of our present moment, as Silicon Valley biohackers, alt-right looksmaxxers, Make America Healthy Again boosters, and longevity-obsessed scientists all vie to remake reality in their own image. For them, the Enhanced Games offered a glimpse of a future where medical advances push the human race to new heights, and where they never have to get old. 

I’ve tracked Enhanced’s journey from a crazy idea scribbled on a napkin to a public company valued at $1.2 billion. Behind the scenes, there have been power struggles, life-changing victories, and moments of total farce. As I recently, finally, watched the games unfold, two questions bounced around my head: Were they right? And what does that mean for the rest of us?


In December 2022, the Australian entrepreneur Aron D’Souza flew to Miami to spend New Year’s Eve with his friend and mentor Peter Thiel. A decade earlier, D’Souza had helped Thiel orchestrate the lawsuit that bankrupted Gawker—a stunning revenge against the gossipy New York media blog that had outed him as gay. Now he was armed with a disruptive idea that he thought Thiel, the billionaire cofounder of PayPal and Palantir, would love. It was inspired by the buff bodies he’d been seeing at the gym, highlighting a disconnect between a workout culture where the use of steroids was an open secret and a sporting establishment where it was, at least on paper, an inviolable taboo.

His initial pitch was provocative and confrontational: a grand sporting event to rival the Olympic Games, where competitors could take any substance they wanted—their body, their choice. The first time I met D’Souza, in the spring of 2024, he had founded the company and attracted some initial investment but seemed obsessed with taking on the fat cats at the International Olympic Committee and reinventing sports (even though he didn’t seem to be a huge sports fan himself). On Enhanced’s Discord server, I found a folder full of memes with names like IOC Clowns.jpg. The whole thing felt very unserious.

That would change. 

D’Souza told me that Thiel had previously introduced him to Christian Angermayer, a German biotech billionaire, who would come onboard at Enhanced. He’s funded clinical trials of psychedelics through his company Atai Life Sciences and is helping bring them into the medical mainstream as a treatment for depression and anxiety. Angermayer says he spotted an opportunity to do the same thing for steroids. What he really wants is to redefine medicine, he told me. Its focus has already changed from treating disease to trying to prevent it; actively enhancing people’s health, he says, is just the next logical step.

By early 2024, Angermayer had brought his own people into key roles. The team included Michael Sagner, an anti-aging expert and private doctor who works with many of Hollywood’s leading men, and Max Martin, who has the jawline and cheekbones of an Instagram looksmaxxing influencer and the boundless enthusiasm of a puppy. (He started his own enhancement program a few years ago, when he was just 27.) Sagner would head up Enhanced’s medical commission, making sure the games were safe for the athletes. It was Martin’s job to make sure they actually happened. 

a group of men in business suits posing at the desk of the NYSE
In early May, Enhanced began trading on the New York Stock Exchange with an initial value of $1.2 billion. Christian Angermayer stands far right with Max Martin to his left (front row), and Aron D’Souza next to him.
LEV RADIN/ZUMA PRESS WIRE VIA ALAMY

Tensions sparked as D’Souza’s freewheeling style clashed with the more sensible image that Sagner and others were now keen to present. “It was not just his personality and his abrasive way of talking,” Sagner told me recently. “Even when he was briefed on a scientific fact, he would just completely ignore it and say something outrageous.”

But the more outrageous D’Souza got, the more attention his idea received. In February 2024, James Magnussen, a retired Australian swimmer, became the organization’s first official athlete, and Enhanced promised to pay a million dollars to him, or anyone else, who could break the world record in the 50-meter freestyle.

The notion of a “steroid olympics,” as many have dubbed the Enhanced Games, had been kicking around for decades—for instance, in a Wired article from the early 2000s and an SNL sketch from the 1980s. Two things helped finally make the Enhanced Games a reality. First, in November 2024, Donald Trump was again elected president of the United States. The Biden administration had been actively hostile to the games, but the founders saw a more receptive political environment in Trump world. Not long after the election, Enhanced announced a new tranche of funding led by 1789 Capital, a venture capital firm whose partners include Donald Trump Jr.

And second, in February 2025, an enhanced swimmer finished the 50-meter freestyle faster than anyone in human history. It wasn’t Magnussen, though. He had been injecting himself with testosterone to grow muscle, plus a cocktail of peptides that aimed to speed up recovery—but his journey hadn’t quite worked the way he’d planned.

A combination of reputational issues (no pools wanted to host his training) and physical complications (the regimen did help him get stronger, but he packed on so much muscle that it slowed him down in the water) meant he watched from the sidelines as the Bulgarian-Greek swimmer Kristian Gkolomeev—who had finished fifth at the Paris Olympics in 2024—came in two-hundredths of a second under the record and won a million-dollar payout from Enhanced. The idea has always been that breaking records would effectively prove the legitimacy of this enhancement project: Look what we can do now

Over the shoulders of Shane Ryan (left) and James Magnussen (right) as they sit and talk poolside
Enhanced swimmers like Magnussen (right) wore supersuits to compete, though they’ve been banned by World Aquatics since 2010.
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Gkolomeev, though, had a different motivation for participating: “One successful year in the Enhanced Games and I could make as much as I would in almost 10 careers,” he told me not long after setting the new record (notably, wearing a kind of “supersuit” that’s been banned by World Aquatics since 2010). Enhanced was paying its athletes a regular salary, on top of any potential bonus. And he had a young family to support and feared that the four-year stretch to the next Olympics would be long and precarious. 

In May 2025, with a world record in the bag and a friendly administration in the White House, Enhanced was ready to announce its first games: They’d take place in May 2026 at Resorts World in Las Vegas. 

At the same time, D’Souza made another big reveal: Enhanced Performance Products, a line of supplements available for a monthly subscription. The Enhanced Games now seemed less like a sporting event and more like a loss leader for selling testosterone injections, GLP-1s, or a range of peptides that are claimed, with little scientific evidence, to improve sleep or skin elasticity. Perhaps it was all a brilliantly executed marketing stunt.

“The games themselves now seem almost secondary to what appears to be an online marketplace for hormones, peptides, and other performance-enhancing compounds,” says Astrid Kristine Bjørnebekk, a steroids expert at Oslo University Hospital. “From my perspective, this significantly changes the nature of the project. It is one thing to organize a closed sporting event built around controversial principles, but openly marketing and commercializing substances such as testosterone, hGH, GLP-1 drugs, peptides, and other pharmacological compounds is something else entirely.”


As the games approached, more athletes joined. Some were genuinely elite. The US sprinter Kerley—who is serving a two-year ban for missing three drug tests—had won silver in the 100 meters in the Tokyo Olympics and a bronze in Paris. Ben Proud, a British swimmer, had won silver at the Paris Olympics and dozens of medals at world and European championships and the Commonwealth Games. He had been mulling over joining the Enhanced Games ever since the idea first emerged, but the tipping point seemed to come when Gkolomeev’s record was announced. 

Some participants, like Magnussen and another swimmer, Megan Romano, had been tempted out of retirement. Romano hadn’t swum competitively for almost a decade. Others were at the start of their careers but ready to cash in their chips and bid goodbye to Olympic dreams for a potential six-figure payday. The $1 million payouts were reserved for records in the two flagship events—the 50-meter freestyle and the 100-meter sprint—but winning any other event would mean a prize of $250,000, with an additional $250,000 bonus for setting a world record.

Athletes would get paid even if they just showed up and finished last—as much as $50,000. This is all on top of the salaries that stretched into six figures in some cases, making the payout from the games more than many athletes make in a year.

Sport’s governing bodies reacted to each new athlete announcement with fury. World Aquatics threatened to ban for life any athlete who participated in the games, even if they didn’t take any drugs. Enhanced responded with an $800 million antitrust lawsuit against the global swimming organization, the World Anti-Doping Agency, and USA Swimming, alleging misuse of monopoly power.

Emmanuel Matadi (left) and Fred Kerley (right) running on the track
American Fred Kerley (right) won the 100-meter sprint without performance enhancing drugs.
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In November 2025, a court in New York dismissed the case. Three days later, D’Souza, the mind behind the entire project, was out. A notice on Enhanced’s website said he had “transitioned out of the company’s day-to-day operations.” Martin would take over as CEO. “The investors basically said we need someone a bit more serious,” Sagner told me. In conversations, execs at Enhanced played down any suggestion of a feud—D’Souza was simply the ideas man, with little interest in the day-to-day dreariness of actually running a company. (Enhanced spokesperson Chris Jones wrote in a statement that “there is no tension between Aron and Enhanced that I’m aware of.” D’Souza did not respond to a request for comment.)

I got the sense that Enhanced, in its new iteration as a pharmaceutical subscription company, was almost embarrassed by the games. When I visited enhanced.com a couple of months before the event, they had been relegated to a sub-heading on the home page. D’Souza’s showmanship had helped get attention for what was becoming a run-of-the-mill telehealth business like Hims & Hers—albeit one well timed to take advantage of a shifting regulatory landscape around peptides, which Robert F. Kennedy Jr., the US secretary of health and human services, has been pushing the FDA to approve despite a lack of evidence that they’re actually effective. 

Sagner is still loosely involved with Enhanced, but he says the medical commission was not consulted before it launched its line of performance products. (Jones did not respond to a question regarding this claim.) Sagner is scathing about what he sees as the “hype” around peptides. “I can tell you already, peptides do nothing,” he says—with the exception of human growth hormone and GLP-1. “The peptides that people use, black-market peptides that they buy online—they do nothing. We have tested them; 80% of them contain nothing. It’s saline solution, salt water, and some of them are contaminated.”


At the end of January 2026, a group of around 40 swimmers, weightlifters, and sprinters arrived in Abu Dhabi to start their individualized enhancement “protocol,” as Enhanced calls it. Officially, they would be taking part in a clinical trial, pending approval by the Abu Dhabi government and overseen by Guido Pieles, a Qatar-based cardiologist who has taken over the reins of Enhanced’s medical commission from Sagner.

Canadian weightlifter Boady Santavy strains to lift a barbell which is currently level with his hips
The day started with the weightlifters, but by late afternoon, only one of them had even attempted a world-record lift.
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They would be allowed to choose only from a menu  of specific FDA-approved drugs. Pieles broke them down into five categories: testosterone variants and growth hormones, which can both boost muscle mass; metabolic modulators that can tweak how the body burns fat; stimulants like Adderall to improve focus; and EPO, which can increase the amount of oxygen the blood is able to carry. While Enhanced’s team might recommend particular things, the athletes would have the final say on what they wanted to take, if anything. (As Oslo University’s Bjørnebekk points out, FDA approval “does not mean the substances are inherently safe, particularly not when used for enhancement purposes.”) 

There would be regular blood tests, heart scans, and brain scans and access to the best training facilities money could buy. Pieles and others say the clinical trial will help inform the line of supplements Enhanced is offering consumers, but there’s actually very little overlap between the drugs the athletes were taking and the substances the company is currently selling.  

Not long after they arrived in the Middle East, the athletes were awakened by the sound of explosions at a military base near their hotel. The US and Israel had struck Iran, and the Iranian regime was responding by peppering the region with missiles. “It wasn’t a pleasant situation,” says Andrii Govorov, the world record holder in the 50-meter butterfly, who a year earlier had become one of the first swimmers to join Enhanced. Govorov had some experience in these matters—back in Ukraine, he’d had a business selling cars that helped fund his swimming career, but he’d lost it after the Russian invasion.

Cody Miller standing by the pool in profile

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attendees sitting in the bleachers

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close-up of the calloused and powdered hands of a weightlifter with remnants and marks left by the tape.

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Swimming, sprinting, and weightlifting were the focus of the first Enhanced Games but in many ways the sports were the sideshow.

The conflict exacerbated delays in getting approval for the clinical trial and sourcing the drugs, and as a result, what was supposed to be a 12-week enhancement protocol got cut down to eight weeks. The athletes didn’t actually start taking the drugs until toward the end of March. For those who had always been clean, that represented the irreversible crossing of a line. “The first injection was very emotional, very tricky to navigate,” says Proud. “For me, that was the day I went from the Ben Proud that I always knew to a new person.”

Proud was joined in the enhancement program by his girlfriend, Emily Barclay, who had swum at college level without ever appearing at a major international event; she was working as a swimming teacher at a school in England. After that first injection, they left Abu Dhabi and spent a few days in Dubai as they reckoned with what they had done. “I just couldn’t be around the team,” Proud says. “I wanted to be by myself and feel those feelings, because it is a big deal to make that step, and I felt it.”

Those feelings were soon forgotten, though, as the drugs kicked in. Proud says he had incredible energy, and a drive to train that he hadn’t experienced before. Shania Collins, an American sprinter, says she had “increased strength, increased recovery, and increased mental clarity at practice.” Sagner and several athletes admitted there were some side effects: acne and some swelling around the joints; unwanted hair growth for the women, unwanted hair loss for the men.

close-up of runner Tristan Evelyn in profile
Like Kerley, sprinter Tristan Evelyn from Barbados competed without taking any drugs. She too won big in Vegas, besting her Enhanced peers in two events.
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One thing the athletes wouldn’t talk about, though, is what drugs they were actually taking. They all had the same reason: not wanting to encourage copycats who might take enhancements without a doctor on hand to tailor programs to their needs. 

The one exception was Thor Björnsson (testosterone, deca-durabolin, anastrozole, halotestin), a hulking Icelandic deadlifter and former World’s Strongest Man who played The Mountain on Game of Thrones. Björnsson first heard about the games on Joe Rogan’s podcast and was immediately interested. The rules for strongman competitions are somewhat less stringent than those for Olympic sports, though, and he actually had to reduce the number of substances he was taking to meet Enhanced’s FDA requirements.

Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson holding a barbell at mid thigh
Icelandic strongman Thor Björnsson actually had to reduce the number of substances he was taking to meet Enhanced’s FDA requirements.
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There is some debate over how much doping some of the athletes were actually doing. In a conversation last year, Gkolomeev told me he’d only really been “microdosing,” and he confirmed that his 2026 enhancement program was largely the same. Sagner says the doses the athletes were taking were a fraction of the amounts some Olympic athletes had been caught using in the past. I heard that a few athletes had decided not to take steroids or growth hormones and were only using modafinil, a narcolepsy medication that’s thought to improve focus.

The day before the games, I asked Angermayer what it would mean if clean athletes like Kerley and Armstrong won their events—what impact it would have on Enhanced’s business model of using sports as a showcase for its line of performance products if the people using those products didn’t actually win anything. “I know what you mean, but mostly our business model is headlines to drive attention,” he said. “Any debate is good for us.” 

In early May, Enhanced began trading on the New York Stock Exchange with an initial value of $1.2 billion.


That same week, it was finally go time. The athletes and coaches left Abu Dhabi and flew to Las Vegas, where they were put up in five-star luxury at the Conrad hotel inside Resorts World while they made their final preparations. 

When I got there a few weeks later, toward the end of May, I found it jarring to see these hulking presences walking around the casino in their Enhanced sportswear, weaving their way through packs of half-drunk tourists, with slot machines flashing in the background and cigarette smoke hanging in the air. I had expected the games to be a bigger deal within the city itself, but they were just one of a thousand things happening in Vegas that weekend—drowned out by a series of BTS shows at the football stadium, by the Golden Knights in the NHL playoffs, by No Doubt’s residency at the Sphere.

If this was a sporting earthquake, it was one whose tremors were mainly being felt online, where bodybuilding influencers livestreamed to their followers on Kick and Twitch, and where thousands watched on YouTube and Rumble. (D’Souza once told me he’d had “every major sports broadcaster” vying for the rights; in the end, Enhanced struck an exclusive streaming deal with Roku in the US.) 

A group of well-heeled guests in the VIP area face left to pose for a photographer
No tickets were sold, so the crowd was a mix of invited guests, investors, and influencers, some of whom had reportedly been flown in on a chartered jet.
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On the morning of the games, Enhanced held a medical symposium that was supposed to provide a taste of the company’s long-term objectives. The first speaker was Bryan Johnson, the longevity-obsessed entrepreneur famous for plowing his personal fortune into wild attempts to reverse his aging: receiving transfusions of his teenage son’s plasma, measuring his nighttime erections, taking more than 100 supplement pills a day. He spends $2 million per year on all this, but he looked pale and vampiric as he delivered the slightly off-brand message that, really, the most important thing was getting a good night’s sleep: “You don’t need to chase IV infusions; you don’t need to chase crystals. You don’t really need to do much of anything.”

At 2 p.m., I took two escalators from the conference room down to the arena, where spectators were filtering in. Though it had cost $50 million, it had been constructed in just three and a half weeks, and it showed; on the media tour the previous day, there were still loose screws on the floor of the bleachers. 

There were a few thousand seats in an open grandstand down one side, and two rows of VIP suites on the other. No tickets were sold, so it was a strange mix of invited guests, investors, and influencers, some of whom had reportedly been flown in from Los Angeles on a chartered jet. The rapper Tyga was the biggest name to grace the “blue carpet,” although I did also spot Fabio James, a Michael Jackson look-alike who has had surgery to make the resemblance even stronger. Rumors swirled that Peter Thiel might show up; they proved unfounded.

looking up at a balcony of excited attendees including a person at center who is dressed to resemble Michael Jackson.
In attendance was Fabio James, a Michael Jackson look-alike who has had surgery to make the resemblance even stronger.
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A few hours before the doors opened, journalists got a stern message from the organizers trying to bar us from interviewing guests. Still, I talked to a Cambridge professor who wanted to use Enhanced as a case study in innovation for his MBA students, a retired Brazilian swimmer with the Olympic rings tattooed on his forearm, and a biotech investor wearing an Enron hat. Proud’s family and friends were sheltered from the blazing sun in the shadow of the big screen. 

D’Souza was nowhere to be seen. Nor was he really mentioned at all—not during the introductory press conference, where Martin was introduced as the “founder of the Enhanced Games,” nor during the event itself, where the athletes showered praise on Angermayer and Martin. But the tens of millions D’Souza had banked from the stock listing likely softened any blow. Plus, he’s already moved on to his next provocative venture: an AI-powered arbitration platform designed to scrutinize the work of journalists on behalf of the rich and powerful.


As the sun set behind the hills, casting the arena in soft gold light, there were still no world records. That and the wins for clean athletes seemed to put the whole Enhanced project in jeopardy—the knives were already being sharpened online. I asked the organizers whether this threatened the legitimacy of the project. 

A wet Marius Kusch lays on the ground grimacing as though his eyes are stinging
German swimmer Marius Kusch was among the dozen or so athletes who hit personal bests in Vegas.
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“Our response is that enhancements help athletes improve and, in some cases, break records. And yes, some non-enhanced athletes also won—because talent and ability also matter,” Enhanced’s Jones emailed last week. “Breaking world records is incredibly hard as the margin is infinitesimal, as we witnessed. Ignoring that 13 athletes some of whom 10 years later broke personal bests is disingenuous and selective reporting.” 

Megan Romano was one of them, swimming faster in the 50-meter freestyle at 35 than she had at 22. And Emily Barclay knocked two seconds off her fastest time in the 100-meter freestyle, coming in second in that event and winning the 50-meter freestyle; she went home with a check for $375,000. “No one’s ever heard of this girl,” said Enhanced swim coach Brett Hawke afterwards. “She’s retired; she’s a nobody. She comes out tonight and swims a time that would have got a bronze medal in Paris.” For all the talk of “superhumanity” and pushing the boundaries of performance, making a 35-year-old feel 22 again is probably the perfect marketing message for the products Enhanced wants to sell. 

Megan Romano stands on the winners area, holding aloft her trophy while Christian Angermeyer and other Enhanced Game participants clap for her.
Angermayer cheers on swimmer Megan Romano, who swam faster in the 50-meter freestyle at 35 than she did at 22.
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Enhanced’s executives say people should take enhancements only with medical supervision, but price could be a barrier to heeding that advice. The battery of health tests the company was giving its athletes in the run-up to the games cost $25,000 per athlete per month. The drugs themselves start at $75 a month and go up toward $200. While Jones says the products “are in line with industry price points,” there were almost certainly people watching who saw the drug-altered physiques of athletes like Gkolomeev or Magnussen and decided to find cheaper, less safe alternatives on unlicensed websites.

“Many of these substances require medical supervision and prescriptions, and several are associated with potentially serious long-term health consequences,” says Bjørnebekk. “Presenting them in this lifestyle-oriented and commercial format risks normalizing use while downplaying the medical risks and uncertainties.”

Kristian Gkolomeev with his arm raised
Although his world record-breaking time won’t stand as the official record, swimmer Kristian Gkolomeev will walk away from the Enhanced Games with a million dollar prize in the 50-meter freestyle.
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Before the night was over,  Gkolomeev again had the chance to right the Enhanced ship. The final event of the night was the men’s 50-meter freestyle swim. His 2025 time had been surpassed by the Australian swimmer Cam McEvoy (without a supersuit) at the China Swimming Open a couple of months before, so he needed to lose another two-hundredths of a second to beat the new record of 20.88 seconds. 

Gkolomeev was wearing the same supersuit he’d used the previous year, and he’d shaved off his mustache for a little extra streamlining. But he messed up his start—doing four kicks instead of five—and was trailing Proud at the halfway mark. His long arms levered him forward, though, and he reached the wall in 20.81. The spectators were on their feet as “WORLD RECORD” flashed red on the big screen. Martin vaulted over the glass partition from the VIP suites, beaming, to embrace Gkolomeev. They had their record.

Or did they? Online, people shared screenshots from the video feed, purporting to show that the clock had stopped before Gkolomeev’s hand touched the pressure sensor at the end of the pool. An Enhanced spokesperson gave a statement to the Guardian dismissing this as “completely unfounded internet drivel.” But hey—live by the sword, die by the sword. It’s quite possible Gkolomeev didn’t care. He had another million in the bank. 

It remains to be seen if it’ll work out so well for the other athletes. Enhanced organizers recently announced a prize of $10 million for anyone who can break Usain Bolt’s 100-meter world record in 2027. They are adamant that the games will happen again next year. If they don’t, dozens of sporting careers will be over, and the athletes will join the long list of victims of VC-backed disruption.

My personal prediction is that Enhanced will pivot away from the risk and uncertainty of a flagship event—the company’s valuation plunged by almost $800 million when markets opened after what was perceived as an underwhelming set of results in Vegas. I expect you’ll see individual stunts and challenges, tightly controlled and filmed for virality and probably featuring your favorite YouTubers—think Björnsson bench-pressing Jake Paul.

D’Souza’s initial idea has served its purpose by capturing the world’s attention. But that won’t necessarily translate into success either. Though the company has had plenty of hype over the last 12 months, SEC filings published as part of its stock exchange listing reveal that it generated only $2,755 in revenue from its enhancements business in the first three months of 2026. Would what happened in Vegas be enough to juice sales?

Max Martin with his mouth open wide to cheer from the VIP stands
Martin, Enhanced’s CEO, cheers on athletes from the stands. Company leadership insists the competition will take place again next year.
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As the athletes gathered on the stage to receive their prizes, Martin took the microphone and addressed the crowd. “Enhanced is culture,” he said. “We are at the pulse of where the world is going.” On this, at least, he’s probably right. Testosterone replacement therapy is rapidly moving into the mainstream, and while the science may still not be there on peptides, they have certainly exploded in popularity in the two years since Enhanced launched. And there are undoubtedly more substances yet to be discovered that will promise to improve people’s lives, or at least hold their appearance in stasis. The enhanced age is upon us, whether we want it or not. 

As the fireworks went off and the Killers closed out the event with “When You Were Young” (“Congratulations to … whoever deserves it,” said frontman Brandon Flowers), I wondered what that might mean for us mere mortals. Invoking Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas in a story about drugs and Las Vegas may be a cliché, but it struck me that fear played a big part in all of this. Fear of missing out. Fear of getting old. Fear of never making a dime on your life’s pursuit. Fear of waking up one morning and seeing your flabby, sunken face in the mirror while everyone around you shines and grins and thrives with white-toothed, alien smiles.

Megan Romano in cap and goggles with her dry robe stands backlit by pink event lighting and stage fog
Before joining Enhanced, Romano had not swum competitively in almost a decade.
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But the big problem with Enhanced’s vision of superhumanity is the question of who gets to join in. “People will be able to enhance themselves if they have enough money,” Sagner had told me the night before the games. The rest of us, I fear, will just have to function as normal human beings.

Amit Katwala is a journalist and author covering science, culture, and where they collide. His latest book is Tremors in the Blood: Murder, Obsession and the Birth of the Lie Detector. He is based in London.

David Sinclair plans to test whole-body rejuvenation drugs in the XPrize competition

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  • A bold new bet on whole-body rejuvenation: Harvard biologist David Sinclair plans to test an oral “reprogramming” drug on human volunteers as part of a $101 million XPrize competition.
  • Chemicals instead of gene therapy: Sinclair’s new drug candidate — code-named SL-100 — uses drugs to mimic the effects of reprogramming genes, and will attempt to reset aging across the body.
  • Experts urge caution: Other scientists warn that chemical reprogramming efforts have so far proven either ineffective at low doses or outright toxic at high ones — and Sinclair’s unpublished animal data has yet to face outside scrutiny.
  • The field’s bigger problem: Scientists still can’t agree on how to reliably measure aging or age reversal, making the XPrize competition as much about establishing scientific standards as it is about crowning a winner.

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The outspoken longevity scientist David Sinclair has been predicting that one day, you’ll go to the doctor and get a prescription that will make you 10 years younger.

Now MIT Technology Review has learned that he has plans to launch human tests of an oral “reprogramming” drug as part of a $101 million competition organized by the XPrize Foundation. 

The foundation is offering cash awards to teams able to “restore” a person to an earlier apparent age, as measured by improvements in immune, cognitive, and muscle function. 

The grand prize goes to any team able to show a 10-year (or greater) relative improvement after one year of treatment. 

Reached by phone, Sinclair, a biologist at Harvard Medical School, confirmed that he plans to give an oral drug mixture to volunteers in a bid to seek “evidence for age restoration in humans.”

The trial, if it goes forward, will be a significant new development in the race to harness so-called epigenetic reprogramming. That technology is based on the discovery, 20 years ago, of powerful genes able to turn an adult cell into a stem cell similar to those found in embryos.

The age-reversal effect is believed to occur via a resetting of molecular controls on DNA known as epigenetic marks, which help determine a cell’s overall metabolism and identity.

Companies are now racing to use that phenomenon for a new form of rejuvenation medicine. Only this January, one of Sinclair’s companies, Life Biosciences, made news by winning approval to launch an initial human trial using a set of powerful reprogramming genes. The company announced today it had treated its first patient. 

But that test involves a complex gene therapy and is limited to patients’ eyes, where it could treat conditions like glaucoma. 

Sinclair’s new plan is bolder: a reprogramming drug you’d swallow in order to promote such effects across the body. 

“What we’re aiming to do is to epigenetically restore the animal and eventually the person,” he says. “It is true that we’ve been doing extensive animal studies with the oral agent and are looking to compete in the XPrize.”

This alternative method, chemical reprogramming, uses drugs to mimic the effects of the embryonic genes. That is significant because drug compounds can travel through the bloodstream, reaching most or all cells in a person’s body. 

Some experts expressed caution, saying the chemical process, at least as used in labs, is extremely harsh and not even particularly effective. “Who doesn’t dream of whole-body rejuvenation? I think it’s a great goal,” says Sergiy Velychko, founder of Soxogen, a stealth reprogramming company in Boston. “But these chemicals are used in very, very high concentrations for cell reprogramming.”

Sinclair declined to describe the exact makeup of the drug candidate, code-named SL-100, calling its contents “highly, highly confidential.”

However, he has previously published lab studies of what he called “epigenetic age-reversal cocktails,” which mixed powerful chemicals with known supplements and commercially available medicines. 

It’s those latter components that would be easiest to test on people, since doctors are free to prescribe them, even for unusual objectives like age reversal. James Clement, head of Betterhumans, an organization that specializes in life-extension studies using existing drugs, said in a message that he is “running clinical trials” of an oral reprogramming cocktail for Sinclair’s XPrize team.

Sinclair’s team is competing in the XPrize Healthspan Competition, launched in 2023. It follows several previous competitions that focused on commercial spaceflight, lunar landings, and other goals. The XPrize Foundation is led by executive chairman Peter Diamandis, also an active promoter of longevity research.

“If two teams are equivalent, they would split the award,” says Jamie Justice, a doctor and executive director for the contest, which was bankrolled by Saudi Arabia’s Hevolution Foundation, “But it will be incredibly hard to even get to one winner.”

Justice says a judging panel is now in the process of picking 10 finalists from 65 teams that have been exploring health foods, lifestyle interventions, digital trackers, and drug compounds. 

Sinclair’s team, Justice says, was a late entrant to the contest, but like all teams, it would be required to move into wider human tests starting this year. “You have to be ready and in trials,” she says.

The race to harness the reprogramming phenomenon and apply it to living people is heating up, even outside the XPrize competition. On June 2, a startup called NewLimit, founded by the crypto billionaire Brian Armstrong, said it had raised a further $435 million, from investors including Peter Thiel’s Founders Fund, to support what it calls “age reprogramming.” 

The company says it is working toward delivering genetic reprogramming instructions to the liver, to treat diseases of that organ.

But Sinclair has been saying that whole-body rejuvenation is a possibility too. And for that, chemicals, rather than gene therapy, could be the most practical strategy. 

Sinclair says his lab has been searching for such compounds and is starting to use AI “to improve the oral agents that we’re testing.”

Chemical reprogramming cocktails, as used in labs, typically involve a mix of vitamins, approved drugs, and experimental molecules. For instance, one recipe Sinclair filed a patent on includes the supplement forskolin,  the antidepressant tranylcypromine, and an experimental chemical, laduviglusib, which has been tested against Alzheimer’s, among other ingredients.

“In those days it was a six-factor cocktail,” Sinclair says of his earlier research. “But we’ve come a long way. I can’t disclose what’s in it, but it’s an improvement and an advance on that, and we’ve done a number of animal studies. They are not published, but we’ve been doing them for a long time, and we want to make sure that we’ve done a full investigation of safety and efficacy before we release any of the data.”

While Sinclair’s results aren’t published, other teams say attempts to reverse the age of entire animals using chemical drugs haven’t worked yet. Last year, the lab of Vadim Gladyshev, another Harvard biologist and a member of a different XPrize team, reported on its attempt to rejuvenate mice by installing pumps in their bodies that released controlled doses of seven compounds.

Gladyshev says the procedure proved to be toxic. “The idea was to see if we could rejuvenate whole animals. Unfortunately, we have not found [the right] conditions,” he says. “At low concentrations there was no effect, and high concentrations were toxic.”

Gladyshev says he doesn’t know what is in Sinclair’s cocktail, but says that “trying to improve the combinations makes sense.”

Sinclair, who is the author of several books on aging and has a large social media following, has frequently been criticized by other scientists for making unproven rejuvenation claims. 

In 2024, he resigned as president of the Academy for Health and Lifespan Research after claiming that a supplement developed by a company his brother runs had “reversed” the age of dogs, a claim for which there was so little evidence that one scientist called it a “lie.”

Part of the problem is that scientists still disagree on how to measure aging. And they don’t have a reliable way to measure age reversal, either, should it ever be achieved.

Justice, the XPRIZE director, says a primary purpose of the competition is to solve that problem by encouraging the development of standardized measures of aging. That is so that anti-aging drugs can be assessed reliably, and, one-day, approved by regulators if they work.

 “We as a scientific field have been forced to ask, ‘If a medicine improves how we age, how would we know?” Justice said during a public meeting with FDA officials in May. “If something worked, what would convince us as scientists, what’s meaningful to the general public?”

Finalists in the Healthspan competition will be announced in August.

Are AI chatbots making us lose control of our brains?

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  • Attention spans are in freefall. Psychologist Gloria Mark found that average attention spans dropped from two and a half minutes in 2003 to just 47 seconds by 2020—and the constant switching is directly linked to rising stress levels.
  • AI may be making our brains lazy. When we outsource writing, summarizing, and evaluating to tools like ChatGPT, we skip the “depth of processing” that helps us actually learn and think critically—and those cognitive muscles can atrophy from disuse.
  • Even our emotional intelligence is at risk. AI companions require none of the effort that real relationships demand, and Mark warns that if current trends continue, loneliness, purposelessness, and emotional decline will only deepen.
  • The fix is effort, not abstinence. Mark isn’t calling for a tech ban—she’s calling for intentionality: read the book, skip the GPS, meet friends in person. The harder the task, she says, the greater the reward.

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This week I’ve been at SXSW London. There’s been music, film, and a lot—and I mean a lot—of talk about AI. I also had the opportunity to sit down with Gloria Mark, a psychologist at the University of California, Irvine, who has spent the last 30 years studying how people interact with digital technologies.

Early in her career, the biggest concerns were the potential impacts of internet and email use on our brains. We may laugh those concerns off today, but it’s true that as the technologies became more ubiquitous and ingrained in our daily lives, our attention spans began to shrink.

Mark is worried that things are only getting worse. The title of our session was “Have we lost control of our brains?” Unfortunately, Mark told me, the answer is yes.

Around two decades ago, Mark started wondering about how our use of devices might affect our attention spans. She set up what she calls “living laboratories,” using sensors and trackers to monitor adult volunteers’ attention, mood, and behavior when they were using devices.

In 2003, she found that the average user had an attention span of around two and a half minutes. That’s how long people could spend focused on one thing before moving on to something else. “That surprised me at the time,” she told me during our session on Wednesday. “I thought: Wow, this is really short.

But when she repeated the experiment in 2012, she found that attention spans had shrunk—all the way down to around 75 seconds on average, she said. In research she conducted between 2014 and 2020, attention spans shrank further still—to a mere 47 seconds, on average. Yikes.

And it’s not good for us. Mark told me that she’s found switching our attention so frequently is stressful. “We would have people wear heart rate monitors, and … we would see direct correlation between switching attention fast and stress going up,” she told me.

All this distraction makes it harder for us to get stuff done, too. “It just takes longer to do any single task if you’re switching your attention,” she told me. “It’s not great for performance. It’s not great for our emotional well-being.”

And that’s for adults. What about the effects of digital technologies on children? A few months ago, Meta (which owns Facebook and Instagram) and Google’s YouTube were ordered to pay millions of dollars in damages to a 20-year-old woman who had accused the companies of creating products that led her to develop a childhood addiction.

Just a couple of weeks ago, Meta settled another lawsuit, this one brought by a rural school district in Kentucky. The district had also accused the company of designing addictive products that were harmful to students and had sought more than $60 million to cover the costs of their mental-health needs. Around 1,200 other school districts are taking similar legal action against social media companies.

But social media isn’t all bad, all the time. It can provide opportunities for some people, including those from marginalized groups, to form connections that might otherwise be difficult. A 2024 survey of LGBTQ+ teenagers found that while some described social media as a place of rejection and fear, others described it as a place where they felt a sense of belonging, where they could develop friendships and cultivate their identity.

In truth, we can’t definitively say what effects using social media is having on children across the board, says Mark. “There have been lots and lots of studies, and the evidence is to date inconclusive,” she told me. (Despite what you might read in best-selling books on the subject.)

Mark is hopeful that large, long-term studies might finally start shedding a bit more light on this question. An effort of this nature is underway in Australia, which enacted a social media ban for under-16s at the end of last year.

Given this uncertainty over a 20-year-old technology, I wondered if Mark had any thoughts on the potential impacts of AI—an obviously much newer offering that within the space of a couple of years appears to have become deeply integrated into our digital lives.

She told me she’s worried.

When we put in effort to do something—such as evaluating or summarizing content—we’re doing what’s known as “depth of processing,” she told me. “When you’re actively engaged with information, you’re processing it on a very deep level,” she said. “Then you’re more likely to learn it, to understand it, [and] to retain it.”

That’s not happening when most people use AI bots like ChatGPT, Claude, and Gemini. When we ask these tools to write, summarize, or evaluate for us, we’re no longer doing that depth of processing. “You’re deferring your cognitive work to AI,” she said. “And it’s not good for us.”

The risk is that our cognitive abilities will weaken over time. “If you’re not constantly exercising your muscles, they can atrophy,” Mark said. “And that’s exactly what can happen with our minds.” People with weaker critical thinking skills are more likely to fall prey to misinformation, she added.

Interactions with AI-powered “synthetic companions” can be just as harmful. Relationships between human beings take work—time, effort, and understanding. None of that is needed if you’re forming a relationship with a sycophantic bot. The “muscle” we risk atrophying here is emotional intelligence, which surveys suggest is already on the decline, said Mark.

She’s not painting a particularly rosy picture.

“If we continue on this trajectory, attention spans are diminished, loneliness is rising, boredom is rising, emotional intelligence decreasing, and actually our sense of purpose, according to studies, is also decreasing,” she said.

Luckily, she thinks we can course-correct by changing our relationship with these technologies. The key factor is effort.

The more effort we put into something, the deeper the satisfaction we stand to gain, Mark told me. That means making an effort to read a book rather than skimming its summary, and to meet with friends in person when you can. Try not to use GPS in places where you can probably manage without it.

“I love technology; we can’t give it up,” she told me. “[But] we have to learn how to create new life routines.”

This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here.

China has approved the world’s first invasive brain-computer chip—here’s what’s next

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  • The world’s first approved invasive BCI: A coin-size device called NEO, developed by Shanghai startup Neuracle Technology, beat Neuralink and others to become the first invasive BCI approved for use beyond clinical trials, now available to paralysis patients in China.
  • China is betting big on brain tech: Beijing has fast-tracked NEO into its national health insurance system and named its brain-computer interface industry as one of six sectors critical to China’s future. It signals an acceleration that experts say has no comparable national-level ambition anywhere else in the world.
  • This isn’t a race—it’s two different games: While the US chases breakthroughs, China is focused on scale and accessibility. Also, despite geopolitical tensions, US-China collaboration in neurotechnology quietly continues, with American firm Axoft already running trials in Shanghai.

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One day last October, sitting in the courtyard of his house in China’s Henan province, Dong Hui decided to see if he could hold a pen to write. 

Dong, 39, had sustained spinal cord injuries in a car accident six years earlier that left him paralyzed from the neck down. Slowly but determinedly, he wrote his name, “Thank you,” and then the date. This was the result of an 11-month-long rehabilitation enabled by an implant in his brain. Before that process, Dong could move his arms slightly but wasn’t able to use his fingers.

“I couldn’t believe I was able to write again. I was so excited I even missed a stroke in my name,” he told MIT Technology Review on a video call. 

In November 2024, Dong became one of the first people in China to be given an invasive brain-computer interface (BCI) through brain surgery. He had signed up for a clinical trial with the device’s developer one month after seeing on TV how a BCI had apparently enabled another paralyzed Chinese man to hold his granddaughter. 

This March, the implant Dong uses became the first invasive BCI product in the world to be approved for use beyond clinical trials. It’s now available to some patients with paralysis in their limbs due to spinal cord injuries. We spoke to a range of experts to understand why the device was able to reach this global milestone, what makes this moment so significant, and what to expect next. 

A world first

Dong’s brain implant is a coin-size device called NEO. It was developed by Neuracle Technology, a Shanghai-based startup, together with researchers at Tsinghua University in Beijing. 

During a procedure that took just over an hour and a half, the device’s sensors, which collect Dong’s brain signals, were placed on his dura mater, the tough outer layer of tissue that covers and protects the brain. The signals are transmitted to a computer by an implant placed on Dong’s skull. The computer then translates the signals into commands for a soft robotic glove Dong wears during the 2.5-hour training sessions he completes each day to help him learn to grab. 

Dong started his rehabilitation around a week after surgery. “On the ninth day of my training, my right hand successfully grabbed a ball without the glove,” he says. “That was a miraculous moment.” 

Now he continues with his training at home. He wants to be able to control his hands better in order to put on clothes, eat, and do other daily tasks without troubling his aging parents. 

A growing number of people with traumatic injuries in China are now poised to tread a similar path thanks to NEO’s recent approval. According to China’s National Medical Products Administration, the bureau responsible for drug supervision, the product is suitable for patients between 18 and 60 who have paralysis in all limbs due to spinal cord injuries but still have some residual function in their arms. 

NEO beat several other BCIs to approval, including one from Neuralink, a California-based company founded by Elon Musk. Since October 2023, Neuracle has conducted 36 clinical trials using NEO, including the one on Dong. Thirty-two of them took place in the space of a few months in 2025, with the details about one of the four first in-person trials published in a preprint paper last July. Neuracle did not reply to a request for comment from MIT Technology Review.

One reason for NEO’s fast approval could be that it has a “relatively less invasive” design than counterparts such as Neuralink’s N1 brain chip, says Avinash Singh, a BCI researcher at the University of Technology Sydney. NEO’s eight sensors sit on top of the brain’s protective membrane while Neuralink’s N1 chip directly penetrates the cortex, the outermost layer of the brain itself. Neuracle’s device faces fewer regulatory constraints because it presents a lower risk of hemorrhage, glial scarring, and long-term signal degradation, Singh says.

China’s strong support for its BCI industry also means that NEO was put on an expedited regulatory pathway; in comparison, the approval process of the US Food and Drug Administration can take several years, Singh adds.

A big boost for BCIs

NEO’s approval is hugely important for the global BCI industry, says Wang Shouyan, a neuroscientist at Fudan University in Shanghai who was not involved in research or trialing for NEO. Even though research and development on BCIs has taken place for several decades, most of it happened in the lab. The news means that BCIs are now ready for large-scale manufacturing and clinical use in China, Wang says. 

For Dong, however, it means something much more personal. “Now, it will be able to help not only me, but also thousands and thousands of other patients suffering from spinal cord injuries in China who are tortured by despair each day,” he says of NEO. “It will bring them hope and change their lives.” 

Days after NEO was approved, China started incorporating it into the country’s health insurance system by assigning it a unique code. This is one of the first steps toward a future where eligible Chinese patients pay a certain percentage of the BCI’s price if they need it during their treatment.

The growth of China’s BCI industry is expected to accelerate thanks to the government’s policy support and financial backing. The country’s latest five-year plan, published on the same day Neuracle received its approval, lists BCI as one of six key industries important to China’s future tech competitiveness, alongside quantum technology, humanoid robots, and others. Several Chinese startups, including NeuroXess and StairMed, have already worked in the field for many years. 

“China’s decision to double down on becoming a global leader in the field owes in part to what these companies have already accomplished,” says Meicen Sun, an information scientist at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign who studies information and technology policy. 

But, Sun says, the biggest advantage China may have is that Chinese people, particularly patients like Dong, tend to welcome this technology and are genuinely enthusiastic about it. In comparison, in the US and Western Europe, testing technologies on human bodies elicits an “ick factor,” triggering concerns and even resistance, she says.

Cooperation in a cold climate 

NEO has become the world’s first invasive BCI to go commercial, but scientists interviewed by MIT Technology Review caution against comparing Chinese and US efforts through the lens of a race

A race implies an endpoint, but it is hard to say where that is for the development of BCIs, says Nick Ramsey, a neuroscientist at Radboud University Nijmegen in the Netherlands. Also, the US and China have fundamentally different visions, Sun says. The US is primarily concerned with being the first to do something and achieving state-of-the-art performance, while winning to China means capturing more consumers and using technology to deliver solutions on a societal scale. 

“Being exceptional and being accessible are two diametrically opposed definitions of winning,” Sun says. 

In fact, neurotechnology has emerged as a rare tech sector where US-China collaboration is still happening despite geopolitical tensions. The US company Axoft,  based in Cambridge, Massachusetts, says it has teamed up with a Chinese company and a hospital in Shanghai to test its BCI on four patients in China and has plans to expand its trials in the country. 

Looking forward, China’s BCI industry is expected to speed up its growth over the next five years thanks to strong government support. “There is no comparable national-level ambition or coordinated map elsewhere in the world at the moment,” says Singh.

More BCIs are also in the pipeline for domestic approval in the country, including Beinao-1, developed by the Chinese Institute for Brain Research in Beijing and its affiliated startup, NeuCyber NeuroTech. The device, which sits on the dura mater, is designed to help those who have movement and speech difficulties due to spinal cord injuries or amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. These candidates could get the green light as early as 2028, Singh says. 

The deadly Ebola outbreak is proving difficult to control

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  • No vaccine, no treatment: Unlike recent Ebola outbreaks, this one is caused by the Bundibugyo virus, for which no approved vaccine exists. Clinical trials for new ones are still months away.
  • Violence is making containment nearly impossible: Armed attacks have burned down two treatment centers and driven 18 infected patients back into the community. Conflict, damaged roads, and food insecurity have left health workers struggling to isolate cases or trace contacts.
  • US funding cuts have left the region exposed: Years of underinvestment, compounded by steep reductions in US global health funding under the Trump administration, have stripped away the surveillance systems and protective equipment needed to respond quickly

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The alert was raised on May 5. Four health-care workers in the Ituri Province of the Democratic Republic of the Congo had died from an unknown illness within four days.

Rapid response teams were sent to investigate, and tests at a research center in Kinshasa revealed the culprit: the Bundibugyo virus, one of the viruses that cause Ebola. Suspected cases of the disease have snowballed in the last few weeks. By May 24, the WHO had estimated that 223 people had died from the disease. There were over 900 suspected cases. Today’s figures are likely to be higher.

A couple of weeks ago, I covered the hantavirus outbreak aboard a cruise ship. Three people sadly died, but the outbreak itself was kept under control. There have been no further deaths, and passengers have been safely repatriated. The picture for Ebola is far bleaker. And there are several reasons why.

The most obvious is the disease itself. Ebola is a severe disease with an average 50% fatality rate. Previous outbreaks have resulted in thousands of deaths. (Hantavirus also has a high fatality rate, but it doesn’t usually spread as easily between humans.) 

Between 2014 and 2016, an Ebola outbreak in West Africa caused more than 11,000 deaths. A more recent outbreak, which took place between 2018 and 2020, caused 2,299 deaths before being brought under control with a vaccination campaign.

But those outbreaks were caused by the Zaire virus, which has a different genetic sequence. There is no vaccine for the Bundibugyo virus. We don’t know if the two vaccines approved for Zaire might also work for Bundibugyo. There’s a concern they might even make things worse by interfering with a person’s immune response to the virus.  

Scientists are working on potential Bundibugyo vaccines. But the most advanced efforts are still months away from clinical trials. There are no specific antiviral treatments for the virus, either.

So to control the outbreak, health-care workers are trying to stop the spread of the disease. Ebolaviruses can be transmitted to humans by animals including fruit bats, chimpanzees, and gorillas. They can then spread between people via contact with bodily fluids such as blood or vomit.

That’s why the virus is often spread among family members, to health-care workers, and during some burial services. The WHO advises isolating people who have the virus in treatment centers. It also recommends safe burial measures that limit physical contact with the deceased, for example. Communities need to be informed about the virus and how it spreads, and health professionals should be on hand to diagnose cases and track them.

That’s all easier said than done in an era of misinformation. Some members of the community even doubt whether the disease is real. There have been three attacks on health-care facilities in the region in recent weeks.

Last week, two treatment centers were burned down. The first incident occurred after relatives of a deceased man were prohibited from retrieving his (infectious) body. As a result of the second incident, 18 suspected cases reentered the community.

A couple of days later, a group of men unleashed gunfire at Mongbwalu General Hospital, which was also treating people with Ebola. They were demanding the bodies of their deceased relatives.

There are more causes for concern when it comes to the spread of the virus. The Ebola outbreak is thought to have originated in Mongbwalu, a high-traffic mining hub. People who caught the virus in Mongbwalu are thought to have sought care in neighboring districts. And the wider province borders both South Sudan and Uganda. So far, Uganda has reported seven confirmed cases and one death. South Sudan’s health ministry has said it will strengthen surveillance, but no cases have been reported in the country so far. 

Violence in the region is making it much harder to contain the spread of the virus, too. Conflict involving multiple armed groups, including deadly attacks on civilians, has hampered humanitarian and health-care efforts. Poor infrastructure and damaged roads make matters even worse. Food insecurity is ravaging the region as well—this year, nearly 10 million people in the region face acute hunger.

Together, these factors are making it “nearly impossible” to isolate people with Ebola and trace others who have been in contact with them, WHO director general Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus said in a statement earlier this week.

The dismantling of US aid programs hasn’t helped either. US government funding for international health projects has steeply declined since the start of President Donald Trump’s second term. These cuts have harmed disease surveillance systems, according to the International Rescue Committee, a humanitarian nonprofit.

“Funding cuts have left the region dangerously exposed,” Heather Reoch Kerr, the organization’s country director for the Democratic Republic of the Congo, said in a statement. “Years of underinvestment and recent funding cuts have left many health facilities without adequate protective equipment, surveillance capacity, or frontline support needed to respond quickly and safely.”

The US has mobilized emergency funding for the outbreak, and a spokesperson for the State Department has argued that none of the administration’s actions have hampered the Ebola response. But health experts counter that the damage has already been done.

On May 17, the WHO declared the Ebola outbreak a public health emergency of international concern. In a statement on Wednesday, Tedros described the situation as “a catastrophic collision of disease and conflict with the Ebola outbreak in Ituri province outpacing the response.”In an online appeal to residents on Wednesday, ahead of an in-person visit, Tedros pleaded for a ceasefire and commended the spirit of community members. He also acknowledged the steep challenges they face. “You are already carrying so much: malaria, hunger, insecurity, and the daily struggle to keep your families safe,” he wrote in French. “And now Ebola. It’s not fair, and I won’t pretend otherwise.”

This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here.

The Enhanced Games fit right in with the rest of 2026’s longevity vibes

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  • Drugs are the point: The inaugural Enhanced Games, held in Las Vegas this Sunday, openly encourages its 42 athletes to use performance-enhancing drugs — provided they’re FDA-approved and medically supervised — with $1 million on offer for world records broken.
  • FDA-approved doesn’t mean risk-free: Anabolic steroids, growth hormones, and other permitted substances carry serious health risks, including liver tumors, diabetes, and vision problems.
  • It fits the moment perfectly: From peptide clinics to optimized embryos, the Enhanced Games reflect a broader cultural obsession with pushing past human limits — one where just being human isn’t enough anymore

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This Sunday, a group of 42 athletes will gather in Las Vegas to compete in a somewhat unusual sporting competition. Participants in the inaugural Enhanced Games are being encouraged to take performance-enhancing drugs. The goal is to “push the boundaries of human performance.”

The games’ organizers have said that competitors will only be taking substances that have been approved by the US Food and Drug Administration, and that they are all being medically monitored and supervised. But they have also said they expect to see world records broken—and are offering substantial prizes to athletes who succeed in doing so.

As you might expect, the event is generating a mix of curiosity, excitement, and condemnation from various quarters. To me, it feels like very much a reflection of where we are today—an era of peptide-crazed looksmaxxing in which consumers are being encouraged to get thinner than ever, optimize for longevity, and have their “best baby.” It’s 2026, and if you’re not enhancing, what are you even doing?

So, these games. They’ll feature competitions in four categories: swimming, track and field, weightlifting, and strongman (which also involves lifting weights). Many of the competitors already hold national and world records, and some are Olympic medalists. They’ve been paid a salary and will compete for prizes from a $25 million pot. The money has been a major draw for at least some of the athletes.

Another draw is the opportunity to openly experiment with drugs that might boost their performance. In the world of elite sport, every microsecond and every millimeter counts. Athletes—most of whom arguably have genetics on their side already—follow meticulous diet, training, and recovery protocols and wear specially designed gear that allows them to reach for those performance bests.

But within most sporting communities, there are limits. The World Anti-Doping Agency—an international outfit that fights the use of drugs in sports—maintains a lengthy list of “non-approved substances” that are banned in international sporting events. It features many anabolic steroids (which can build muscle), hormones (such as those that stimulate testosterone production or increase the ability of blood to carry oxygen), growth factors (which can stimulate muscle growth and repair, among other things), and more.

Some of these substances have been FDA approved to treat health disorders. And that means they can be used by participants in the Enhanced Games, according to the organization’s rules.

I’ll briefly point out the obvious here—just because a drug has been approved by the FDA doesn’t mean it’s totally safe for everyone and anyone. The risks associated with use of anabolic steroids, for example, include high blood pressure, acne, depression, and liver tumors. Growth hormone use can cause weak muscles, affect vision, and even lead to diabetes.

“Technological doping,” or using improved equipment to gain advantage, has also been supported by the games’ organizers. Last year, participating swimmer Kristian Gkolomeev was reported to have broken a record in a 50-meter freestyle time trial while wearing a polyurethane “super” swimsuit. Such suits have been banned for use in the Olympics since a slew of record-breaking performances in 2008 and 2009. Back then, the swimming governing body ruled that they gave athletes an unfair advantage. But hey, this is the Enhanced Games, where the word “unfair” seems to have a completely different meaning.

Can we expect more records to be broken on Sunday? Maybe. In addition to prize money for winning an event, any athlete who manages to beat a record stands to win up to $1 million, the sum also awarded to Gkolomeev last year following his time trial. But those performances won’t be recognized by official sporting bodies.

Plenty of concerns have been raised about these games. Some argue that they are unsafe and promote risky drug use. Others see them as a “clown show,” and a slap in the face to “clean” athletes who train hard without the use of prohibited drugs. World Athletics president Sebastian Coe has said that anyone who takes part is “moronic,” and World Aquatics, which oversees international competitions in water sports, has banned Enhanced Games participants from its events and activities.

But. The games—and the participating athletes—will still get a huge amount of attention. As a result, so will performance-enhancing drugs. Enhanced, the company behind the games, also runs an online store. There, you can buy a $52 T-shirt emblazoned with the message “I am Enhanced.”

There is also a range of prescription drugs on offer, including peptides “to support recovery, vitality, and longevity.” One of these is a growth hormone that the FDA approved in 1997 for the treatment of children with “growth failure.” The compounded version offered on the Enhanced website, which is not FDA approved, is marketed for longevity, supporting deep sleep and “overall wellness and vitality.” (“Marketed” is the key word here. The drug has, again, not been approved for that purpose.)

It all fits very well with the zeitgeist. Sure, we don’t yet have any drugs that are designed to extend human lifespan. But the search for anti-aging drugs is getting more attention—and funding—than ever. People, particularly women, are seemingly not allowed to visibly age anymore—we have filters and facelifts for that now. The idea that “death is wrong” is gaining acceptance.

And self-experimentation is rife. “Biohacking” was shortlisted for Collins Dictionary’s Word of the Year in 2025. Peptides are everywhere, despite all the unknowns surrounding their safety and effectiveness. So are longevity clinics, despite the fact that most are selling unproven treatments. US states like Montana are making it easier for people to get hold of unapproved “therapies.”

Companies are even offering would-be parents the option to choose the potential future children expected to live longest. Yep—you can supposedly optimize your embryos now, too.

In this climate, the Enhanced Games don’t feel so radical. They feel entirely fitting for our era of questionable optimization despite the risks —an era when, apparently, being human is no longer enough.

Colossal Biosciences is growing chickens in a 3D-printed artificial eggshell

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  • Artificial eggshell, not artificial egg: Colossal Biosciences has grown baby chicks inside 3D-printed plastic containers coated with a silicone-based membrane that mimics an eggshell’s oxygen exchange — a meaningful step, but scientists say the company is overselling it.
  • The moa is one target: Colossal’s goal is resurrecting the giant moa, a 12-foot flightless bird hunted to extinction — which would require genetically rewriting thousands of DNA letters and scaling up the artificial eggs to the size of a salad spinner.
  • Scientists are skeptical: Researchers have been growing birds in artificial containers since 1998 and say Colossal’s claims of a first-ever breakthrough are overblown — a familiar pattern for a company that last year also faced widespread rejection of its “dire wolf” resurrection claim.

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The baby chicks were shifting and starting to pip—or trying to hatch. But not from an egg. 

Instead, these chickens were growing inside transparent 3D-printed plastic cups at the Dallas headquarters of Colossal Biosciences.

The biotech company today claimed it has developed a “fully artificial egg” as part of its effort to resurrect extinct avian species, including birds like the dodo and the giant moa.

But “artificial eggshell” would probably be a better description for the invention. It’s an oval-shaped printed lattice, coated inside with a special silicone-based membrane that lets in oxygen, just as a real eggshell does. 

To generate birds, Colossal took recently laid chicken eggs and carefully poured their contents into the artificial shells, where they continued growing. A window on top lets researchers peek inside.  

“To see them all moving around in their artificial eggs was absolutely mind blowing,” says Andrew Pask, the company’s chief biology officer. “You really feel you can grow life outside of the womb.”

Colossal was founded in 2021 with plans to use gene editing and reproductive technology to restore extinct species, including the woolly mammoth. It’s since raised more than $800 million toward what it now terms the “scalable and controllable” creation of animals.

According to Pask, the egg technology could help conserve at-risk bird species. It could also play a role in a project to re-create the extinct giant moa, a flightless 12-foot-tall bird that once lived in New Zealand and laid four-liter eggs, larger than those of any living bird.

But Colossal may be able build one that’s big enough. The company provided a photograph of a prototype 3D-printed egg so large that staff have started to call it the “salad spinner.”

The moa went extinct after canoes carrying the ancestors of the Maori arrived on New Zealand’s South Island about 750 years ago. Archeological sites showcase the birds’ bones alongside stone cutting tools—clear evidence that they were hunted.

To be clear—Colossal isn’t close to re-creating the moa. Before that could happen, scientists would need to study DNA data from old moa bones and insert thousands of genetic changes into the genome of an existing bird, something that’s still technically difficult to do—with or without an artificial egg.

artificial womb for chicken embryos

COLOSSAL BIOSCIENCES

Some scientists also think Colossal is taking too much credit for its artificial eggshell, which it announced in a thundering YouTube video intoning that the company has solved the “impossible question of which came first, the chicken or the egg.”

The video is pure Hollywood—it’s meant to be funny and exciting. But Colossal has a habit of antagonizing scientists by making false and exaggerated claims. Last year, for instance, the company said it had re-created the extinct dire wolf—a claim widely rejected by experts. 

This time, Colossal’s fluffed-up assertion of having created the “first-ever shell-less incubation system” is what’s raising hackles among the small flock of scientists who’ve been working on the technology for years. 

“Clearly an overstatement,” says Katsuya Obara, at the University of Tsukuba in Japan, who in 2024 hatched chickens from beneath transparent plastic film. “The technology here is essentially a modification of existing methods.”

In fact, Obara notes, growing birds in artificial containers goes all the way back to 1998, when another Japanese group managed to do it with quail.

What may be an advance by Colossal is the special membrane, which lets the embryo access more oxygen. Previous systems required scientists to supplement the gas—something that may not have been good for the chicks, as often some of them would fail to hatch. 

The work on the artificial eggshell was carried out in Dallas by Colossal’s exogenous development team, or Exo Dev. That group is also trying to develop artificial wombs for mammals, starting with marsupials.

“We’re looking at every single facet of what’s happening during a mammalian pregnancy to unpack exactly how we then go about recapitulating that,” says Pask.

For that team, an artificial eggshell is a relatively quick and easy technical win. That’s because chickens are already an example of ex utero development. After an egg is laid, a small embryo sitting on top of the yolk starts growing, drawing nutrients from the yolk, the white, and even the shell, which provides calcium. (Colossal says it has to add ground-up calcium to the artificial eggs.)

looking down into the artificial egg shell to see a developing chick embryo and its vascular structure

COLOSSAL BIOSCIENCES

In order to create a moa, Colossal will have to genetically alter another type of bird, changing potentially thousands of DNA letters. But so far, chickens are the only bird species that can be genetically engineered. And that’s via a tricky process of editing stem cells that produce egg and sperm. Scientists have to add or delete DNA letters from these cells and then inject them back into an egg. The resulting bird will carry the genetic changes in its gonads—and then be able to pass them on. 

Pask says Colossal’s idea is that it could modify avian stem cells enough to produce moa-like sperm or eggs. But then you might have the odd situation of a chicken laying an egg with a moa embryo inside it. “You would have chickens making moa egg and moa sperm. But it’s still a chicken egg,” he says.

Helen Sang, a professor emeritus at the Roslin Institute in the United Kingdom, says she’s not sure a moa embryo could survive on the yolk of a chicken egg, given evolutionary differences. “There are significant challenges to overcome to grow an embryo of a different species in artificial eggs,” says Sang.

Just one of those is the huge size discrepancy. The amount of yolk in a chicken egg would hardly be enough to support the much larger moa chick. Yet Pask says that is exactly where the artificial egg will come in handy.

He says it may be possible to use a fine needle to slowly “put 50 yolks together to make that yolk mass much larger.”

“The chicken egg isn’t going to be big enough to support the growth of the moa through to term, to when it would normally hatch, but that’s when you could then take that egg, put it into the artificial egg environment, and then scale it up in size,” he says.

So far, Pask says, the artificial egg is working well for chickens—almost too well. “We hatched 26 chickens and then [our CEO] asked us to put the brakes on. We have too many chickens running around.”

The world is on track to miss its health targets

Every year the World Health Organization publishes a global health statistics report. It features the numbers behind world health trends and, importantly, assesses whether we’re on track to reach ambitious goals set in 2015. It’s a bit like a health grade.

The 2026 report was published on Wednesday. And the results aren’t looking brilliant. While we are seeing some improvements, they are uneven, and they’re far too slow.

The targets themselves are part of the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals, a sprawling and ambitious plan focused on improving life around the world. The 17 goals were set to tackle poverty and climate change and to boost education, gender equality, health, and well-being, among many other quality of life issues. Those targets were meant to be met by 2030.

Perhaps they were a little too ambitious. Here are the numbers and statistics that stood out to me on this year’s world health report card.

1.3 million new cases of HIV in 2024

Before the SDGs, there were the Millennium Development Goals. One MDG target was to halt and reverse the spread of HIV—and that target was exceeded by 2015. Back then, we were considered on track to “end the AIDS epidemic by 2030.”

How depressing, then, to see that in 2024 there were an estimated 1.3 million new cases of HIV. That’s 40% lower than the figure from 2010. But it’s still 1.3 million additional people with HIV. The SDG target is to reduce HIV incidence by 90% by 2030—we’re not likely to meet it.

10.7 million new cases of TB

The picture is even bleaker for tuberculosis, which ranks 10th on the WHO’s list of top global causes of death. The goal was to reduce cases by 80% between 2015 and 2030. So far, cases have only fallen by a measly 12%. And when you break the change down by region, the Americas saw an increase of 13%

An 8.5% rise in malaria cases

And then there’s malaria, the mosquito-borne disease with a 7% fatality rate. The European region has been free of malaria since 2015, but the disease is a significant concern in many countries in the Global South, particularly in Africa. The goal was to lower rates by 90% between 2015 and 2030. In 2024, there were an estimated 282 million cases of malaria globally—representing an 8.5% increase in incidence rates.

Antimalarial drug resistance is a major challenge here—forms of the malaria virus that are resistant to drugs have been confirmed or suspected in eight countries in Africa, according to a separate WHO report. Mosquitoes that are resistant to commonly used insecticides are present in nine African countries. And climate change, which can alter mosquito habitats, may be making things worse.

42.8 million children are wasting

We’re not meeting child health targets, either. Take malnutrition, for example. As of 2024, the global prevalence of wasting in children was 6.6%—that’s a staggering 42.8 million children who are literally wasting away because of a lack of adequate food. On the other end of the spectrum, 5.5% of children are now considered overweight. Both figures were meant to be below 5% by 2030, which now seems unlikely.

Vaccination rates are dropping in the Americas

Progress in improving childhood vaccination coverage has stalled. Globally, an estimated 76% of children are getting their second dose of a measles vaccine—a figure far below the the approximately 95% needed to prevent outbreaks. The Americas currently has lower rates of vaccine coverage for three of the four “core” vaccines than it did in 2015.

This is partly due to a lack of investment, says Goodarz Danaei, an epidemiologist at the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health. “But now we have a misinformation campaign going around vaccines that makes it worse,” he adds.

The covid-19 pandemic didn’t exactly help, either. The impact on health services led to millions of children missing out on routine vaccinations.

22.1 million pandemic-related deaths

And of course the pandemic affected progress toward health goals in more direct ways: 7 million people died of covid-19. The WHO report estimates that, for each of these, there were an additional two “excess” deaths related to the pandemic, due to disruptions in health care, for example. That puts the total figure at 22.1 million pandemic-related deaths.

A woman dies every two minutes from “maternal causes”

Maternal mortality rates fell by about 40% between 2020 and 2023. But today’s rate equates to 712 maternal deaths every single day. That’s one every two minutes. The WHO report notes that we’d have to reduce the mortality rate by almost 15% per year in order to meet the 2030 target. This seems incredibly unlikely, particularly given the recent decimation of US funding for global aid programs, which is expected to result in thousands of additional maternal deaths.

Progress has also slowed in reducing the risk of death from noninfectious diseases like cancer, diabetes and cardiovascular disease. “Overall, neither the world nor any WHO region is currently on track to meet the 2030 SDG target,” the report states.

2.1 billion people struggle to afford health care

Despite plans to make health care more affordable, a significant chunk of the population is being pushed into poverty by health-care costs. In 2022, 2.1 billion people faced financial hardship due to health spending—and 1.6 billion of them were living in or had been pushed into poverty.

Across the board, there have been some important improvements in global health. But the achievements have not gone far enough. “The good news is that there is progress,” says Danaei. “But as always, the glass is half empty.”

This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here.