Bryan Johnson Is Silicon Valley’s Sexless Vampire Future
Bryan Johnson’s sexless brand of “wellness vampirism” is the perfect metaphor for Silicon Valley. It’s a utopian promise of a limitless future disguising a brutal, extractive reality that leaves us all drained.

Bryan Johnson has spent millions trying to become immortal and transform his body into a temple of biological data. (Bridget Bennett / Bloomberg via Getty Images)
Fictional vampires are dark, dangerous, and, crucially, sexy. From Bela Lugosi’s hypnotic stare in the first Dracula film to the tortured emo vibe of Edward Cullen, the silver-skinned heartthrob of Twilight, the undead have often been seen as the apex predators of the dating pool. That’s because their monstrosity is balanced by a seductive, often genteel charm. “There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive,” describes Bram Stoker’s protagonist, Jonathan Harker, in the original novel Dracula, capturing the essential vampire paradox in a single sentence.
But in the 2020s, the ultimate “bad boys” appear to have undergone a catastrophic software update.
Enter Bryan Johnson: the centimillionaire biohacker who has turned a quest for eternal life into a grim, spreadsheet-driven slog. Johnson, the Silicon Valley founder behind the well-publicized brand Don’t Die and the subject of a 2025 Netflix documentary (Don’t Die: The Man Who Wants to Live Forever), has spent millions trying to become immortal and transform his body into a temple of biological data. He takes ninety-one pills a day, performs shock therapy on his penis, measures his erections, and once engaged in a “multigenerational plasma exchange” in which he siphoned the blood of his teenage son. He is, by any objective definition, a vampire, but one who has traded the cape for wearable sensors and the Transylvanian castle for a Wi-Fi-enabled home laboratory. What he lacks is any semblance of seduction — bloodthirsty but strangely bloodless.