Biohacking: On the fringes of the tech industry, the use of peptides has expanded far beyond the GLP-1 agonists that have transformed the science of weight loss. A diverse array of compounds is now in circulation, each promoted by enthusiasts for specific physiological goals. BPC-157 and TB-500 are touted for injury recovery by stimulating new blood vessel growth; oxytocin is used in attempts to influence social behavior, with one OpenAI researcher publicly likening it to an "Ozempic for autism"; epitalon is associated with sleep regulation; and retatrutide, a next-generation weight-loss drug still in clinical trials, is used for appetite suppression and enhanced focus.
For many of these uses, the scientific backing is far weaker than that for GLP-1 drugs. Yet many users extrapolate from the proven success of GLP-1s to dozens of untested, unrelated peptides – often without randomized, placebo-controlled trials or independent, peer-reviewed publications. This dynamic blurs the line between legitimate pharmacology and speculative biohacking.
The supply driving this trend is largely based in China, a major hub for peptide manufacturing. According to US customs data, imports of hormone and peptide compounds from China has nearly doubled, reaching about $328 million in the first three quarters of 2025, up from $164 million in the same period of 2024. That growth reflects demand for GLP-1-related materials, melanotan II, and other peptides, including shipments to compounding pharmacies as well as gray-market suppliers.
In practice, these products enter the tech ecosystem in standardized form. Peptides arrive as powders in vials labeled "for research use only," a phrase that often functions as a legal fiction. Users mix the powders with sterile water and self-inject – typically with insulin syringes purchased from mainstream e-commerce platforms, effectively converting laboratory reagents into personal pharmaceuticals.
The economics reinforce adoption. Branded, FDA-approved GLP-1 drugs like Ozempic and Zepbound carry list prices above $1,000 per month, while research-use equivalents purchased through gray channels reportedly cost roughly one-fifth as much. A San Francisco-based supplier of Chinese peptides, who requested anonymity because marketing them for human use is unlawful, told The New York Times that its average customer "is closer to a Starbucks barista," adding that "the techies were the first on this because of the willingness to take ridiculous risks."
Within tech companies, usage tends to spread hierarchically – often beginning with executives and moving through technical leadership and hardware teams – while biopharma professionals are described as comparatively cautious.
From a regulatory standpoint, the divide is stark. Aside from GLP-1s for weight loss, none of the peptides discussed in the article have been approved by the US Food and Drug Administration for human use. Pharmaceutical companies have been hesitant to invest in formal trials because many peptides are straightforward to manufacture and do not target a specific, well-defined disease, weakening the financial case for traditional development pathways. These conditions have helped sustain a thriving gray market, in which compounds are sold as research materials but used as drugs.
The FDA has formally warned that many peptides pose "serious safety risks," citing potential impurities and immune reactions. The agency has also restricted pharmacies from compounding certain peptide bulk drug substances, though enforcement is inconsistent. Personal use of peptides remains legal, but physicians are blunt in their assessment. Dr. Eric Topol, director of the Scripps Research Translational Institute, called widespread unsupervised use "unfounded and reckless."
At the same time, the online marketing environment for these compounds has intensified. Gerard Olson of LegitScript, a firm that tracks problematic pharmaceutical advertising, reports that online promotion of unauthorized peptide formulations increased nearly eightfold from 2022 to 2024.
Within the tech industry, peptide use fits into a broader pattern of biohacking and self-optimization. In this context, peptides are rarely treated as last-resort medical interventions; instead, they are framed as tools for weight management, recovery, focus, and mood enhancement.
Weight loss remains the dominant driver of peptide interest, but some users are increasingly microdosing GLP-1s – taking tiny amounts – with the hope of reducing other compulsive behaviors such as alcoholism, excessive video gaming, or online shopping. There are no clinical trials supporting microdosing for these purposes, yet anecdotal accounts have been compelling enough for some tech workers to adopt them as part of a personal optimization stack.
FDA's war on public health is about to end. This includes its aggressive suppression of psychedelics, peptides, stem cells, raw milk, hyperbaric therapies, chelating compounds, ivermectin, hydroxychloroquine, vitamins, clean foods, sunshine, exercise, nutraceuticals and anything...
– Robert F. Kennedy Jr (@RobertKennedyJr) October 25, 2024
A growing distrust of the medical establishment is another key factor driving amateur peptide experimentation, particularly in the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic. As confidence in the FDA has eroded among some groups, wellness influencers have stepped into the information gap. Figures such as Andrew Huberman and Joe Rogan have brought experimental peptide use into the mainstream, with Rogan sponsored by Ways2Well, a company offering "clinician-supervised peptide therapy."
Policy rhetoric has also shifted. In an October 2024 post on X, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., now Secretary of Health and Human Services, pledged to end the "aggressive suppression" of peptides, even as the FDA under Joe Biden pursued enforcement actions against some sellers. Under the current Trump administration, the FDA approved the pill form of Wegovy and added oral GLP-1s to its priority review list, but it has not moved to deregulate other peptide types. An HHS spokesperson stated that the department "cannot comment on future policy decisions," leaving the regulatory future of non-GLP-1 peptides uncertain.
For health policy experts, the stakes extend beyond a single product category. Dr. Aaron Kesselheim, a professor at Harvard Medical School specializing in medical regulation, notes that "the point of the FDA is to protect patients and consumers from shady medical entrepreneurs who would sell unsuspecting people dangerous things." He argues that many current peptide practices are "bad for their health based on the evidence, which is that there is none."
Image credit: The New York Times
Silicon Valley's next risky self-optimization craze is unproven peptides
