Tech Entrepreneur’s Longevity Quest Faces Scrutiny
Bryan Johnson, a tech entrepreneur who transitioned into the longevity sphere, detailed his rigorous morning routine in a Netflix documentary released in January. He described beginning his day by monitoring his sleep patterns, followed by audio and hair therapies, an hour of physical exercise, and the consumption of 54 pills alongside a blended drink he dubbed “the green giant.”
Johnson also discussed Blueprint, his venture focused on extending lifespan, which markets dietary supplements, blood analysis tools, and other products aligned with his personal diet and wellness recommendations.
“A primary goal of Blueprint is to attain the lowest possible biological age,” he stated. He further claimed his intensive health practices had “reversed my biological age by 5.1 years.”
The Netflix feature marked a significant point in Johnson’s five-year endeavor to become a prominent figure in Silicon Valley’s fascination with achieving perpetual youth. The 47-year-old, formerly a Mormon missionary, has gained notoriety for self-experimentation to combat aging, captivating media attention and his substantial social media following of nearly four million. His methods include receiving blood plasma transfusions from his teenage son and employing penile shock treatments to enhance erectile function.
Blueprint’s Rise and Emerging Challenges
Johnson’s public profile appears to have propelled Blueprint’s success. In January, he lauded his startup as “one of the fastest-growing companies globally, driven by organic, word-of-mouth promotion.”
However, beyond the public image, cracks are beginning to appear in his carefully constructed persona and Blueprint’s business operations, particularly concerning growing controversy surrounding Johnson’s use of legal confidentiality agreements.
For almost a decade, Johnson has utilized confidentiality agreements to control his image and businesses built upon it. Employees, romantic partners, vendors, and contractors have been required to sign these documents, sometimes in exchange for settlements, severance packages, or continued employment at his firms, according to sources close to him and his ventures, internal documentation, and court records.
These agreements, intended to ensure silence about Johnson’s private life and business dealings, are now generating backlash as some former associates unite to challenge their legality.
At least three former Johnson employees, including a former fiancée who was also an employee, have recently filed complaints with the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB), a federal regulatory agency, regarding his confidentiality agreements. They allege the terms they signed were “overbroad” and accuse Johnson of infringing upon federal regulations protecting workers’ rights to discuss workplace conditions, according to copies of two complaints and insights from six individuals knowledgeable about the matter.
Mounting Concerns and Internal Dissent
Individuals associated with Johnson and Blueprint have expressed increasing discomfort with these agreements as the startup faces growing questions about its financial stability and product quality, issues some felt warranted public disclosure, according to former employees and others with company knowledge.
Oliver Zolman, Johnson’s long-term longevity physician featured in the Netflix documentary, reportedly departed Blueprint last year after raising concerns about certain health supplements marketed by the company, these sources indicated. Furthermore, last autumn, Johnson reportedly informed Blueprint executives about the company’s dwindling financial reserves.
Johnson’s objective was “to utilize these contractual agreements to maintain silence,” an endeavor that was described by Matt Bruenig, the attorney representing the former employees who filed NLRB complaints, as “kind of a house of cards.”
Jamie Contento, Johnson’s former personal assistant and one of the NLRB complainants, stated she “definitely felt coerced into signing the agreements” fearing job loss if she refused.
Reporters from The New York Times interviewed 30 individuals connected to Johnson and his startups, including current and former employees. Many spoke under anonymity due to the constraints of confidentiality agreements and fear of retaliation from Johnson. The Times also reviewed copies of these agreements, court filings, internal documents, photographs, and the NLRB complaints.
Johnson’s Response and Public Image
Johnson declined to address numerous inquiries from The Times. In a post on X, prior to this article’s publication, he asserted that confidentiality agreements “try to create clear boundaries and expectations, so that trust isn’t left to chance.”
Following contact from The Times, Johnson reportedly exerted pressure on individuals within his circle to adhere to these agreements, according to sources familiar with his actions. One legal letter issued last month reminded a former employee of their “strict prohibition from using, disclosing or misappropriating any confidential, proprietary or trade secret information belonging to the company or Bryan R. Johnson,” as stated in a copy of the document.
In the public sphere, Johnson has shifted focus elsewhere. This month, he announced the formation of his own religion, named after his longevity slogan, “Don’t Die,” claiming it would save humanity.
Questionable Practices and NDAs
Johnson established the payment processing firm Braintree in 2007 and became a multimillionaire after PayPal acquired the startup in 2013. Subsequently, he distanced himself from his Mormon upbringing and entered a period of experimentation.
Johnson divorced his wife, with whom he shares three children, and formally left the Mormon Church. He engaged in relationships with prostitutes, according to accounts from friends, former employees, and court documents, and experimented with drugs including LSD, Ibogaine, and DMT.
While Johnson has not publicly addressed his LSD use, he is an advocate for psychedelics like DMT and has its chemical structure tattooed on his arm.
He also began to implement confidentiality agreements. These terms stipulated that individuals were prohibited from publicly discussing his personal escapades or even confiding in friends or family about him.
In 2016, Johnson founded Kernel, a neurotechnology startup. He had previously declined an opportunity to establish a similar venture with Elon Musk, who subsequently created his own company, Neuralink.
Johnson became increasingly preoccupied with his public image, according to former associates, and wondered why he did not receive the same level of publicity as Musk. Consequently, he increased reliance on confidentiality agreements. In 2020, he reportedly required a date to sign such an agreement before they consumed LSD together, according to two former friends. She signed but left abruptly, angered by the agreement’s demand.
Expansion of Confidentiality Terms at Blueprint
The confidentiality stipulations were generally integrated into broader employment contracts at Johnson’s businesses. Initially, a Kernel employee agreement encompassing confidentiality clauses spanned four and a half pages, with limited specificity regarding prohibited topics.
However, as Johnson transitioned into the longevity sector and prioritized his health, losing over 50 pounds, these terms expanded significantly. This shift was partly attributed to the 2021 launch of Blueprint, a startup based at Johnson’s Los Angeles residence, intended to sell health-related products to his followers interested in lifespan extension. (He stepped back from his leadership role at Kernel in 2023 but remains on its board of directors.)
Blueprint’s branding is intrinsically linked to Johnson’s image, utilizing pop-up advertisements featuring his face to promote both the Netflix documentary and supplements branded as “Bryan’s favorites” available for purchase on the website. Blueprint’s site proclaims, “He is the healthiest person on the planet.”
By the previous year, a Blueprint employment agreement that included confidentiality clauses had ballooned to 20 pages, containing numerous restrictions.
Among these, employees were obligated to keep confidential “any nonpublic information regarding Bryan’s home, office, personal effects in his home or office, any spaces rented or owned by Bryan, any vehicles/planes/automobiles/boats/other methods of transportation that are not publicly accessible, or areas of his home or such space that are not publicly accessible,” according to a review of the document.
In his X post, Johnson stated that the agreements “have evolved, just like everything else I iterate & improve upon.” He added, “The goal is precision.”
Employees at Blueprint, which has approximately 30 staff members, were sometimes required to sign as many as three separate agreements. This practice is unusual for employee contracts, according to legal professionals.
One of these was an unconventional “opt-in” document, not a confidentiality contract itself but designed to shield the company from potential litigation arising from employee observations in the workplace.
This agreement mandated that employees affirm their comfort with Johnson’s behavior including “wearing little and sometimes no clothing/no underwear” and overhearing “discussions of sexual activities, including erections,” as detailed in a copy. They also had to agree that Johnson’s behavior was not “unwelcome, offensive, humiliating, hostile, triggering, unprofessional or abusive.”
The opt-in agreement was characterized as “fair to all concerned and is in everyone’s best interest,” in a post by Johnson on X.
While confidentiality agreements are commonly utilized by affluent individuals and corporations, Cliff Palefsky, a San Francisco-based employment lawyer, suggested that certain aspects of Johnson’s agreements were excessively broad and potentially unenforceable.
Palefsky, who reviewed the documents for The Times, commented that Johnson and his company are “counting on people being afraid and not violating it because they’re afraid.”
Concerns over ‘Longevity Mix’ and Product Quality
Beginning early last year, some Blueprint employees reportedly became increasingly disillusioned with the confidentiality agreements as the company encountered internal challenges, according to individuals who were employed there.
These issues included questions regarding Blueprint’s health supplements. The company markets approximately a dozen proprietary supplements, including a “$49 longevity mix,” as listed on its website. It is noted that supplements are subject to less stringent regulatory oversight compared to pharmaceuticals.
Around that period, Johnson and his leadership team, including Dr. Zolman, solicited volunteers to participate in a study of these supplements and meal plans, known as “The Blueprint Stack.” The stated aim was to assess the effects of these products on participants’ health, as revealed by company insiders and internal documents reviewed by The Times.
Certain executives, including Dr. Zolman, advocated for adhering to standard clinical trial methodologies for the study, including random participant selection, sources indicated. However, Johnson instead charged customers over $2,100 for participation, promising to release study results by the summer of 2024.
Of the roughly 1,700 individuals who enrolled in the study, approximately 60 percent experienced at least one adverse effect, according to internal emails, spreadsheets, and other documentation. Blood test results showed that participants experienced decreased testosterone levels and developed prediabetic conditions after adopting Johnson’s dietary regimen. The severity of these side effects remains unclear.
“Longevity mix: A lot of comments about hating this as it is making them sick, vomit, have heartburn, etc.,” a Blueprint employee wrote to a colleague in February 2024, reflecting internal feedback.
Allulose, an ingredient in the longevity mix promoted by Johnson on social media as a sugar alternative, also caused issues. “TONS of people saying it’s causing nausea, bloating,” another employee noted.
In an email response to The Times, Johnson asserted that the study findings indicated “common side effects with any food, beverage or supplement.” He stated Blueprint products are continuously refined and undergo safety testing, adding that it is standard practice in self-experimentation studies not to cover participant costs.
Employees reportedly felt constrained from sharing these study findings due to the confidentiality agreements in place, according to internal communications.
Last summer, Dr. Zolman resigned from Blueprint after voicing concerns about the study’s outcomes, according to individuals familiar with his departure. Although he had signed a nondisclosure agreement, Johnson allegedly requested him to sign another in exchange for a month’s severance pay, which Dr. Zolman declined due to the agreement’s stringent terms.
Johnson did not release the study results by the summer of 2024 as initially promised to customers. In January, he disclosed limited data for around 300 participants, portraying positive outcomes. The supplements continue to be available for sale.
In a subsequent email to The Times, Johnson claimed that metrics regarding Blueprint’s supplements “transitioned to or stayed in the normal range throughout the entirety of the study.” He further alleged that Dr. Zolman resigned “to seek professional help for his serious mental health concerns,” without providing substantiating evidence. Sources with knowledge of Dr. Zolman’s departure dispute this account.
Financial Strain and Biological Age Claims
Simultaneously, Blueprint encountered financial difficulties. While revenue reportedly increased last year to approximately $40 million and the company boasts around 40,000 customers, it allegedly operated below its break-even point by at least $1 million per month, according to sources knowledgeable about the business’s finances. Johnson, who had invested $25 million as Blueprint’s sole investor, reportedly cautioned executives about the company’s dwindling cash reserves. Its current financial status remains unclear.
An internal recruiting email from this year described Blueprint as “already profitable,” according to a copy of the message.
Johnson has also been accused of selectively highlighting favorable metrics regarding his personal health experiments, particularly focusing on his “biological age,” to present an optimistic view of his health progress, according to former employees and others.
In the Netflix documentary, primarily filmed in 2023, Johnson claimed his biological age had decreased by 5.1 years. However, internal studies of his health conducted between January 2022 and February 2024 indicated an increase of up to 10 years, as shown in charts of blood test results. His most recent test results are unknown.
In an email correspondence, Johnson stated that the “decision to highlight the 5.1 year reduction was made entirely by the documentary’s production team” and that this statistic originated from an experiment conducted in early 2023. He asserted that “biological age measurements fluctuate” depending on the specific test and other variables.
Employee Concerns and Workplace Environment
Employee apprehensions escalated last spring when Blueprint distributed the opt-in agreement, requiring employees to consent to various workplace behaviors. This agreement appeared in employee inboxes with instructions to sign it as a routine matter of business.
Although many employees signed, their unease grew. With Blueprint operating from Johnson’s residence, the boundaries between his personal and professional life often became blurred, according to former employees and others close to Johnson.
During working hours, Johnson frequently moved about with minimal clothing, sometimes engaging in flirtatious behavior with Blueprint’s predominantly female staff, sources reported. However, the opt-in agreement effectively silenced any potential complaints.
Contento, who had previously worked at Kernel, stated she had been employed at Blueprint for a year when she was asked to sign the opt-in agreement. She agreed due to concerns about job security, but admitted “the document just didn’t feel right.”
Last fall, Contento left Blueprint. Upon her departure, she emailed human resources to express concerns about the work environment, stating it had “begun to change in ways that made me feel uncomfortable,” as stated in a copy of her email.
“There were certain professional boundaries that, from my perspective, seemed to blur over time,” she elaborated.
It is unclear whether Blueprint conducted an investigation into Contento’s concerns. She did not sign another confidentiality agreement upon leaving the company.
Johnson stated via email that Contento had “raised no material complaints or concerns regarding the work environment or her role to my knowledge” during her employment at Blueprint.
Legal Action and Employee Solidarity
Even with growing disquiet about discrepancies between Johnson’s public statements and private actions, many employees were reluctant to challenge him and his confidentiality agreements.
The experience of Taryn Southern served as a cautionary example.
Southern, 38, Johnson’s former fiancée and a former employee at his neurotechnology startup, Kernel, was terminated from the company in February 2020 shortly after their breakup while she was undergoing treatment for Stage 3 breast cancer, according to a 2021 lawsuit she initiated against him.
The lawsuit alleged that Johnson pressured her to sign an employment separation agreement containing confidentiality provisions. One version of these terms reportedly included a $500,000 penalty for each breach of the rules.
“It’s all he seemed to care about, that agreement,” Southern stated in her first public interview regarding the experience.
Many Blueprint employees closely followed developments in Southern’s lawsuit, in which she argued that Johnson had breached a commitment to pay her $150,000 for rent and relocation expenses after their separation.
Johnson successfully moved the legal proceedings to arbitration. In 2023, an arbitrator ruled that Southern was bound by her employment separation agreement, which contained clauses preventing her from suing Johnson.
He then filed a countersuit for his legal costs, resulting in Southern being ordered to pay him over $584,000.
Johnson publicized the legal dispute, posting a 16-minute YouTube video in 2023 claiming he was a victim of “the dark underground accusation economy.” This was followed on Valentine’s Day 2024 by a lengthy 2,400-word post on X naming Southern, alleging he feared she would attack him with scissors, and claiming his health regimen had cured her cancer. This post garnered over 500,000 views.
Southern felt unable to respond due to the confidentiality terms. (Sources close to the former couple refuted Johnson’s claims, stating they never heard Southern threaten him and his health regimen did not cure her cancer.) Her social media accounts and email were subsequently inundated with hostile messages from Johnson’s supporters.
“Cancer treatment and my termination and everything I had to go through — that was all awful,” stated Southern, whose cancer is currently in remission. “But what felt worse was not being able to share the truth when I was being publicly attacked.”
Johnson reportedly has not paid Southern the $150,000. In his YouTube video, he claimed he would establish a trust so payments from “his accuser” for his legal fees would be directed toward her medical expenses. However, emails reviewed by The Times indicate he created the trust last year but then closed it without depositing any funds.
Last summer, Southern filed a complaint against Kernel and Johnson with the NLRB, asserting that the confidentiality terms violated labor law provisions protecting employees who wish to speak about workplace conditions.
Although Southern remains bound by the agreement’s terms, she stated she chose to discuss her working conditions with The Times to represent Johnson’s current employees.
Other employees became aware of Southern’s legal strategy. In February, Contento, Johnson’s former assistant, filed a similar NLRB complaint through the same attorney, Bruenig, after learning of him through Southern’s case. A third former Johnson employee swiftly followed suit with a comparable complaint.
Bruenig stated that because the employees acted in concert against Johnson, federal law safeguards their right to discuss workplace conditions. He confirmed that the NLRB is investigating Southern’s complaint.
The NLRB did not respond to requests for comment. Ryan Field, Kernel’s CEO, stated the company is cooperating with the investigation. Johnson has retained David Broderdorf, an employment lawyer from Morgan Lewis, according to NLRB filings.
Current and former employees of Johnson are now reportedly communicating regularly about their experiences at his companies, according to Southern.
“We hope to bring some kind of positive ending for other employees,” she concluded.
Kirsten Noyes contributed research.