It was the middle of February, and the air was dry. There are fine lines appearing on my forehead, maybe because I’m not moisturizing enough, but maybe as a sign of something bigger: every day I’m getting closer to my own death. Soon, I will turn 30. I will never be younger than I am now.

Fintech-founder-turned-longevity-guru Bryan Johnson has an offer that caught my attention. For the low, low price of $1 million per year, I can pay him to show me the ropes of the “exact protocol” he has been following for the past five years. He called the program “Immortals.”

Yes, a male recipient botox injection his genitals will teach me how to reverse the aging process. Why don’t I believe that Byran Johnson has unlocked the secrets to living longer than any other person? No, he has yet to prove his capacity to outlive all other people. He was born in 1977, a year in which many people were born today.

But why should I doubt the judgment of a man who has strengthened his constitution blood from his teenage son? When did the tech elite mislead us? Do I also have to ask if Elon Musk said that Saving for retirement is irrelevant because AGI will create economic abundance so great that no one will ever know poverty again?

According to Johnson’s post on X, this exclusive service — only three spots available! – will include “a dedicated concierge team, BryanAI 24/7, extensive testing, millions of biological data points, continuous tracking, optimal skin and hair protocols, and access to the best therapies on the market.”

I can talk to the AI ​​version of a guy who livestreamed himself shrooming for “science?” Sign me up!

Except I can’t. Because I don’t have $1 million. Those like me have to settle for buying overpriced Johnson’s olive oil in our quest for immortality (this peppery and smooth!)

My emerging frown deepened with the knowledge that Johnson would likely have an easy time filling the three $1 million spots. Among the ultra rich, longevity has become a hot pursuit.

John Hering, who gave Musk billions of dollars in support, co-founded biographerwhich describes itself as a preventive health and diagnostics clinic. The most premium membership costs $15,000 a year (next to Johnson’s offer, it seems like a good deal… almost). A similar start, Life at the Fountainraised $108 million to fund its “ultimate longevity program,” which pays a $21,500 annual fee. Sure, Johnson’s program is more expensive, but remember, there are only three spots! And if you’re not ready to shell out seven figures, well, you can access the obscure “supported level” for $60,000.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to live a longer, healthier life, but longevity influencers like Johnson make it seem increasingly unattainable and (common sense would say) unnecessary for the average person.

In his defense, Johnson isn’t trying to proselytize us all to take one hundred pills a day and lives mostly on cooked vegetables. But he also did not deny us the opportunity to make him richer in exchange for his “secrets.”