Peptides, From First Principles
The chemistry is settled and genuinely elegant. The marketplace built on top of it is where the evidence stops being uniform — and the word "peptide" does a lot of work hiding that.
Everything we have published, newest first. 34 pieces across 7 topics.
The chemistry is settled and genuinely elegant. The marketplace built on top of it is where the evidence stops being uniform — and the word "peptide" does a lot of work hiding that.
For most compounds in this category there is no human safety data at all. That is the headline, not a footnote — and it changes what a safety article can responsibly say.
The most preventable harm in this category is not pharmacological. It is a unit conversion done wrong — and the same mistake, made the same way, produces a dose a thousand times too large.
The standard guidance is a mix of genuine sterile compounding practice and folklore repeated until it hardened. The two are worth separating, because only one of them prevents infections.
Route-of-administration guides for peptides circulate with impressive precision — bioavailability percentages, dose multipliers, brain-level comparisons. Most of those numbers have no study behind them.
Subcutaneous technique is standard patient-education material and worth getting right. The failure modes are specific, well documented, and almost entirely preventable.
Reconstituting a vial starts two timers that measure completely different things. Almost every storage guide collapses them into one number, and that conflation is where the confusion lives.
The trial data is genuinely remarkable, the mechanism is elegant, and the compound is approved in no country on earth. All three of those things are true at once, and most coverage manages only the first.
Ice baths have collected an extraordinary set of claims over the last decade. A few of them hold up. One of them is the opposite of what most people believe.
Set your alarm for a multiple of ninety minutes and you will wake up refreshed — so the advice goes. The number is an average of a distribution nobody bothered to look at.
Ninety days wearing a sensor designed for a disease I do not have. I learned three genuinely useful things and spent about six weeks drawing conclusions from noise.
Most nootropic combinations are folklore with a supplement facts panel attached. This one has repeatedly beaten placebo in controlled trials, and the effect is smaller than the internet claims.
Fourteen interventions, one spreadsheet, four hundred nights. Most of what I tested did nothing measurable. Here is the short list that survived.
The physiology is sound. The obsession with staying inside a narrow heart rate band, and the belief that everything else is wasted, is not.
The most-cited longevity finding in the wellness world comes from one observational cohort in eastern Finland. It is good data. It is also being asked to prove more than observational data can.
The best-evidenced sports supplement of the last thirty years has a second literature attached to it. It is smaller, messier, and more interesting than either its promoters or its critics admit.
The mouse data were spectacular. Then the randomised human trials arrived, and the picture became considerably more mundane.
Among the numbers you can measure and change, cardiorespiratory fitness has an association with mortality that dwarfs most of what gets tracked instead.
Of all the sleep variables you can control, ambient temperature is the cheapest, the best understood, and the one most people have set wrong.
One of the most reliable predictors in epidemiology is how hard you can squeeze a device. The obvious conclusion is also the wrong one.
The official minimum and the useful target are different numbers, and the gap between them explains most of the internet argument.
Twenty years of research, a genuine effect, a real regulatory status, and a set of trade-offs that the productivity-blog framing consistently omits.
You spit in a tube and receive a number telling you your body is 34 while your passport says 41. The underlying science is serious. The consumer product mostly is not.
The photoreceptor biology is genuinely elegant. The consumer product built on top of it is a much weaker proposition than the packaging suggests.
Seventy-five ingredients, one proprietary blend, an enormous podcast advertising budget, and not one randomised controlled trial of the finished product.
A supplement cabinet audit. Nine compounds went in, three came out the other side, and the reasons for each removal were different.
Stretching increases how far you can move. The reason why is not the one on the poster, and it changes what you should do about it.
Wearables are good at some sleep questions and poor at others. Knowing which is which turns a source of anxiety back into a useful instrument.
Two drugs dominate the longevity conversation. The animal data behind one is genuinely impressive. Neither has shown a lifespan effect in a human being.
Proprietary blends, fairy dusting, and the difference between a certificate of analysis and a picture of one. A field guide to the back of the bottle.
Eight glasses a day, thirst means you are already dehydrated, and the colour chart on the bathroom wall. Three claims, varying amounts of truth.
It costs nothing, takes ten minutes, and has better mechanistic support than most of what gets sold to people with sleep problems.
Most of the benefit arrives in the first few hard sets per muscle per week. Knowing where the curve flattens is what makes a realistic programme possible.
Strip away the branding and there is a specific, measurable, well-characterised physiological effect at roughly six breaths per minute.