The Gospel According To Bryan Johnson: What does he really want?
(REVIEW) Bryan Johnson went viral several times before the recent release of his Netflix documentary “Don’t Die: The Man Who Wants to Live Forever.” The title says enough about his goal and the source of his virality — but his story, of course, goes deeper than his obsession with extending his lifespan.
Johnson is a former member of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints, a tech success story, a multimillionaire and, most importantly, a human being who craves love and connection. His story, which is undoubtedly one of wealth, power and obsession, is primarily about his desperate bids for this kind of connection and the unusual ways he’s found it.
He does want to live forever, but realistically, Johnson knows that immortality is impossible for him — he just says he hopes his work will influence the way humans live no and in the future.
The truth of Johnson’s process is that he wants to decrease his rate of aging. For example, at one point in his journey, he describes himself as gaining “four free months,” meaning that in a year he only aged eight months.
His basic routine to decrease aging, called Blueprint, goes something like this: Waking up at 4:30 a.m., getting UV therapy without actual exposure to UV rays, HRV therapy, 54 pills with green juice, hair growth therapy, a workout, vegetables for breakfast, electromagnetic muscle stimulation, red-light therapy, audio therapy, more vegetables, more pills, more exercise and more specified treatments for different bodily functions. It’s no small feat.
He’s taken further steps which are more controversial and less accessible for the common human — including processes like plasma transfusion (in which he injects his son’s plasma into his system) and gene therapy. The gene therapy he’s after is highly experimental and as such is only able to be administered in a free zone in Honduras called Próspera.
The documentary includes media reactions to his lifestyle, most of which are negative. It introduces an important element to the story and Johnson’s character, suggesting that at least on some level he feels responsible for proving himself to the nonbelievers. That one man — a millionaire, no less, and one who’s devoted to defeating death — would have nonbelievers poses an important question: Is Johnson trying to be God?
It’s a question the documentary at least presumes to consider, though it largely portrays Johnson as a misunderstood investor with a heart of gold.
It would be easy to make the argument that Johnson is trying to become God based on his lifestyle alone, and even the documentary makes this somewhat concerning possibility plausible enough.
Richard, Johnson’s father, says that as a child his son “really wanted to be like [Mormon leader] Joseph Smith.” He’s clearly obsessed with leaving a high-impact legacy regardless of the way — it just so happens that investing millions of dollars into the extension of his life and becoming an influencer of sorts along the way is the method that stuck.
My goal here isn’t to make that argument, though. It’s possible that the documentary just did a really good job convincing me of Johnson’s innocence — but I think it goes deeper than that. The argument that Johnson is trying to become God implies this idea that he’s trying to gain power over the world so he can exercise control over pace of aging and nature itself, and I don’t think that’s his end goal. I think he’s just a desperately lonely man who needs an outlet and human connection.
Johnson describes his mental health struggles and feelings of disembodiment before he left the LDS church.
Bryan Johnson is spending his life trying to live forever. (Netflix photo)
“I didn’t want an afterlife,” he says of the darkest days. “I didn’t want this life. I didn’t want consciousness at all.”
After leaving the church, his connections with his family were severed instantly. He and his wife divorced, his parents stopped speaking to him and he wasn’t allowed to see his children.
His son Talmage began speaking to him after several years, as he also felt misunderstood by the church. He also eventually left, joining Johnson in his home and daily routine. Richard is back in contact with Johnson, too, because when he started aging himself he reached out for advice and help. He’s now received the same gene therapy and undergone similar transfusion processes.
These relationships with Johnson’s family are the most interesting part of the documentary because they’re the most telling. He’s sweet and grateful for Richard to be back in his life; it’s clearly the source of a small boost in Johnson’s self-esteem. His relationship with Talmage is much more complex.
Johnson unabashedly envies him for his youth: In one clip, he comments on Talmage’s calves and has remarked to many that he’d like to have Talmage’s body. The timeline of the documentary convenes as Talmage is preparing to move states for college, leaving Johnson in his home alone again.
His projection on him intertwines with his loneliness and the years they didn’t spend together. There’s guilt, there’s genuine love, there’s, again, this crushing fear of loneliness. It culminates with him crying inside a Target store. It’s tragic to watch.
The documentary ends by showing what’s perhaps the best possible outcome for Johnson — that his “Don’t Die” movement has built a global community of likeminded individuals who don’t find him too strange or unpalatable. They’re inspired by him and share his mission, which is really all he wants.
Johnson isn’t an innocent man, and he’s undoubtedly self-serving. Maybe the best example of this is the fact that, when asked by scientist Andrew Steele to fund a study on anti-aging rather than experiment on himself outside of clinical trials, he did nothing more than block that scientist. He’s in it for himself, not the scientific community or any real implementable change in the mainstream.
Johnson is not, by any means, a figure to be worshipped. Since he is in it for himself, I do hope Johnson achieves the personal connections with others he so craves. After all, everyone — no matter how long their lifespan — deserves that much.
Jillian Cheney is Religion Unplugged’s Senior Culture Correspondent. She writes about film, TV, music, art, books and more. Find her on Twitter @_jilliancheney.