Sporting black track pants, a black T-shirt and Adidas Busenitz skate shoes, Andrew Huberman is preparing for his next set inside his bright, airy gym in Venice Beach, Los Angeles. The room has the feel of a mad fitness scientist’s playground, with new and old equipment crammed together. There are specialist machines, including a Pit Shark belt squat and Hammer Strength four-way neck machine, alongside more conventional kit such as a speed bag and an AirDyne bike. A gleaming set of stainless steel, thick-grip, rotating-handle dumbbells made by Watson – the Rolls-Royce of iron – sits proudly in the corner.

With his Spartan posture and thick beard, Huberman gives off a Moses-meets-King Leonidas vibe. There’s also a mischievous glint in his eye as he settles his 6ft 1in, 225lb frame into a vintage Nautilus One pullover machine – one of only two in the world – to show me how it works. He pushes the foot lever to raise the weights, rests his elbows on the pads, plants his feet and pulls down. The towering stack of iron rises with a whirr as Huberman, 51, launches into all the details about the Nautilus One in the gravelly voice – and with the effortless command of science – that has made Huberman Lab one of the biggest podcasts in the world.

This machine, he explains, was designed by Arthur Jones, the founder of Nautilus and one of the great fitness innovators of the 1970s. It allows users to target their lats – the broad muscles that create the back’s V-shaped taper – with greater precision than dumbbells or barbells.

‘The pullover for the back is a great isolation exercise for the lats because only one joint moves,’ he says. ‘It takes the arms completely out of the movement. You can go really heavy and get a great lat contraction without fatiguing your arms. You can go immediately into pull-ups – but I’m not going to do those today.’

Almost 35 years ago, Huberman was a scrawny 6ft 1in, 150lb skateboarder spending afternoons in Tower Records near his home in Mountain View, California, reading Arthur Jones’s workout programmes in bodybuilding magazines. He grew up in a close-knit family, but when he was 13, the divorce of his father – an Argentine physicist and consulting professor at Stanford – and his mother, an American children’s author, shook him deeply. Strength training became a source of stability.

Earlier this year, for an episode of Huberman Lab, he trained with bodybuilding icon Dorian Yates, one of the great champions of the Nautilus pullover machine, and the pair enthusiastically dissected every detail of it. The reps Huberman is performing this morning – with their chain pulleys and muscle-geek specificity – represent a full-circle moment, connecting Jones, who first introduced him to weight training, with Yates, whose philosophy now shapes much of his own.

With relentless curiosity, Huberman has mixed and matched ideas from fitness, health, psychology and biology in his pursuit of becoming a better version of himself – and, in the process, built an empire of self-improvement.

Huberman Lab, his pandemic-era creation, launched in January 2021 and is now approaching its 500th episode. With 7.85 million YouTube subscribers, its audience has never been larger, yet the format has changed very little. Dressed almost exclusively in a black button-down shirt, Huberman sits down with leading experts, explains the science underpinning behaviour and offers listeners practical tools to improve whatever aspect of their lives is under discussion.

On 15 September he released his new book, Protocols: An Operating Manual for the Human Body.

More than simply a collection of podcast notes, it ‘consolidates the points of intersection’ gathered from his conversations with leading experts into practical protocols covering sleep, fitness, stress, nutrition, light exposure, learning and personal growth. Huberman defines a protocol as ‘an established formula to help you overcome common obstacles, achieve a specific health or performance goal, or generally improve your day-to-day physical or mental state.’ They’re explicitly not ‘hacks’, which he dismisses as shortcuts rather than long-term solutions.

Like the podcast, the book dives deep. At 688 pages, it’s both a bold challenge to our shrinking attention spans and a reflection of Huberman’s appetite for detail.

It also arrives at a turbulent moment in health culture. The Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) movement has loosened oversight of unproven peptides and understudied psychedelics. The FDA and CDC remain in flux, while vaccine and nutrition science have become increasingly politicised.

Supporters see Huberman as a science communicator pushing back against misinformation. Critics argue his podcast veers into a more subtle form of ‘scienceploitation’, using technical language to help legitimise questionable wellness products. Over the years he’s been labelled everything from ‘a low-rent Dr Oz’ and ‘a charlatan’ to ‘a brilliant neuroscientist’ and a ‘neuroplasticity overlord’. Joe Rogan has simply called him ‘a genius’.

Whatever the verdict, Huberman’s formula is clearly working.

He’s now embarking on a book tour that includes three live shows, one at New York’s Radio City Music Hall. If he isn’t the first neuroscientist to headline the venue, he’s almost certainly the strongest – and perhaps the closest thing the wellness world has to a rock star.

Like any great performer, he gives audiences something they crave. Whether that’s competence, credibility or simply the feeling that somebody out there has answers, people keep coming back.

As it turns out, Huberman still has a few questions of his own.

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When Huberman launched the first episode of Huberman Lab on 4 January 2021, he was 45 years old and a professor of neurobiology and ophthalmology at Stanford University. He had previously completed a bachelor’s degree in psychology at UC Santa Barbara in 1998, a master’s in psychology at UC Berkeley in 2000, and a PhD in neuroscience at UC Davis in 2004. After postdoctoral work at Stanford, he opened his own lab researching vision regeneration at UC San Diego in 2011 before joining Stanford’s faculty in 2016, where his lab studies brain function, development and repair.

‘I studied neuroscience, biology and psychology for 20-plus years,’ he says. ‘It’s one thing to study these topics. It’s another to work on the brain in a laboratory – to record the electrical activity of neurons, slice up a brain, look at it and talk to clinicians.’

His work in the lab led to appearances on friends’ and colleagues’ podcasts. After a few guest spots, he realised he could build his own audience by explaining subjects such as brain plasticity and stress management.

‘What was unique about that time, of course, was the pandemic. People were stressed,’ he says. ‘I like to think that I had tools they hadn’t heard of before that could help them get their sleep, their stress and so on under control.’

His tagline – ‘Welcome to the Huberman Lab podcast, where we discuss science and science-based tools for everyday life’ – might not sound especially compelling, but a pandemic-weary audience was hungry for trustworthy health information.

Huberman has several theories about why the podcast caught on.

Theory one: it was free, and he wasn’t selling anything.

Theory two: the calibre and variety of his guests.

‘It was rare among public health communicators to talk about such a wide array of subjects. Now, it’s a bit more common. You’d get Matt Walker talking about sleep, Angela Duckworth talking about grit, right?’

Theory three: few people were explaining the underlying mechanisms behind health advice.

‘Deep down, people want to understand the why behind the tools. The more they learn that those mechanisms exist in them and in everyone, and that the tools work the first time and every time, it really resonates.’

It’s partly thanks to Huberman that a more scientific vocabulary around our bodies – cortisol, dopamine receptors and stress adaptation – has entered the mainstream.

‘I am well aware that if somebody wants to know the 10 best ways to improve their sleep, they can go on Google or ChatGPT and print that out,’ he says. ‘Why does that not work? It isn’t because the things it lists aren’t effective. It’s because human behavioural change requires buy-in. The buy-in with me is that you learn the underlying mechanisms and principles. Once people understand those, they’re far more likely to follow the advice, and they can adapt it to suit their own needs, day-to-day, travel, kids, etcetera.’

When Time ran a feature on how Huberman got America to care about science in the summer of 2023, it cemented his status as an avatar of self-improvement. On TikTok, wives joked that their partners had become ‘Huberman husbands’ – seeking sunlight at dawn, drinking green smoothies and talking endlessly about protein – while being ‘Huberman-pilled’ became shorthand for someone obsessed with optimising their wellness routine.

People also started recognising him in the street.

‘That doesn’t bother me,’ he says. ‘One thing that still makes me happy is when people say, “I can’t believe the podcast is free.” We’re giving people something that’s genuinely useful.’

Jordan Shlain, MD, a physician who runs the concierge healthcare company Private Medical, says patients regularly arrive quoting Huberman or asking whether they should adopt a particular protocol.

‘I take it seriously because it means they’re paying attention to their own health, which is the hardest part of my job to manufacture. People wanted a longer conversation about their bodies than the 15-minute doctor’s appointment was giving them, and they found one in Huberman. Physicians should take that personally.’

Although Huberman isn’t a medical doctor, he accepts that he gives health advice.

‘I don’t consider myself the people’s doctor, psychiatrist or psychologist. I’m a communicator and connector – a connector of people to people and people to ideas,’ he says. ‘What I’m trying to do is create more logical, principle-based thinkers. I’m trying to create a world of health, fitness and scientific understanding where I’m not needed anymore, where the principles are what matter.’

Of course, he’s frequently asked about peptides, and his response is notably cautious.

‘Everyone’s excited about peptides, but you have to ask: “What are the short- and long-term benefits? What’s the effect you’re actually trying to achieve?” There’s no human evidence that BPC-157 can accelerate healing, but there’s plenty of anecdotal evidence and some promising animal data. I think there’s a safer way to approach it, and I am for medical freedom. But I’m not going to be leveraged by one side or the other. It may leave you with fewer friends, but probably better friends.’

During the Men’s Health shoot, Huberman joked that internet trolls would inevitably claim the seriously heavy weights he was lifting were fake. (For the record, they weren’t – he knocked out multiple reps of single-arm rows with a 105lb dumbbell – that’s roughly 48kg.) He recognises that many people now see him as a fitness and wellness influencer more than a scientist, and he’s not entirely comfortable with that.

Timothy Caulfield, a professor in the Faculty of Law and School of Public Health at the University of Alberta who studies health science policy, is a long-time critic of the wellness industry – particularly when scientific language is used to sell supplements or devices with limited evidence behind them.

He points out that brands including AG1, David, Function Health, Roka and Whoop sponsor Huberman’s podcast, arguing that such relationships create significant conflicts of interest.

‘When I coined the term “scienceploitation”, it referred to grifters using science buzzwords like “stem cells” on supplements or “microbiome” on shampoo bottles to make products sound legitimate,’ says Caulfield. ‘What Huberman does is more subtle – almost scienceploitation 2.0 – because his entire persona is science-y. As a listener, it becomes difficult to separate when you should trust him and when he’s selling you something.’

Huberman notes that all sponsors are publicly disclosed on his website and says he only works with products he genuinely believes in.

‘Obviously we have sponsors to keep the whole thing going, but I won’t work with sponsors I don’t love,’ he says. ‘So I actually feel no shame.’

He cites AG1 as an example, saying he’d been taking it since 2012, long before the podcast existed, to supplement his vitamins, minerals and probiotics.

He also now takes AGZ, the company’s sleep supplement.

‘They combined all the things I’d suggested they put into one product. It’s got magnesium, tart cherry, kiwi and a few other things known to improve sleep. To be fair, some ingredients have stronger evidence than others. It works for me. I get great sleep on it.’

During our conversation, Huberman becomes most animated when I mention the word longevity. He scrunches up his face as though he’s in pain.

‘The longevity space is a circus. The word “longevity” is gonna be right down there with “looksmaxxing” soon. It’s really pathetic,’ he says. ‘I’m sad about it because the goal of living longer is excellent.’

He quickly clarifies that there are serious scientists doing important work – Tony Wyss-Coray, PhD, on brain ageing; Eric Topol, MD, on genomics; Matt Kaeberlein, PhD, on the biology of ageing; and David Sinclair, PhD, on reversing ageing in eye cells – but believes the public conversation has drifted into the absurd.

‘People come up to me and say, “Did you see this thing?” And it’s always the craziest thing. Like, what’s next? Most of the people in the longevity space are to true science and medicine what Bonnie Blue is to true intimacy.’

Clearly, Huberman doesn’t see himself as part of the longevity movement, even if many people lump longevity and wellness together. Some critics question whether his growing list of protocols is simply too much, whether the nuance of the science gets lost on casual listeners, or whether some of the studies he discusses aren’t yet ready for prime time.

‘You can listen to an entire episode of Huberman Lab and there won’t be a sentence that’s profoundly inaccurate,’ says Caulfield. ‘There are often caveats, like, “This was a preliminary study” or “This was a mouse study.” But the overall impression becomes: Cold plunge. You should do it. This is optimisation!‘

Optimisation is another trigger word for Huberman. He squeezes his eyes shut and puts his hands on his head when I bring it up.

‘I think people mistakenly believe my obsession is with supplements, cold plunges and rigid optimisation,’ he says. ‘But part of being a healthy person is being flexible. True optimisation is about embracing reality – sticking to certain things as best you can while remaining adaptable. Rise, eat, move, hydrate, sleep. I’m trying to encourage people to do the little things that cost nothing, take very little time and have an outsized positive effect on the big picture.’

The conversation around optimisation took on an entirely different meaning when New York Magazine published a cover story about Huberman in March 2024.

Multiple sources quoted in the article described him as manipulative, deceptive and unfaithful to partners, contrasting his highly disciplined public persona with what they alleged was a chaotic private life. The piece also questioned aspects of his scientific reasoning and highlighted potential conflicts of interest surrounding his supplement recommendations.

The story quickly went viral. Some viewed Huberman as an example of toxic masculinity, while others questioned what relevance a scientist’s personal relationships should have to the credibility of his scientific advice. Through it all, Huberman continued releasing podcasts on his usual schedule, maintained his work at Stanford and declined to publicly address the article.

‘I certainly disagree with a number of things in the story,’ he says. ‘Look, it’s never comfortable when people are saying things and you feel you’d like to correct the narrative. But you’re not really in a position to do that because it would only amplify the discussion. So I opted to say nothing.’

Ironically, rather than damaging his audience, the article introduced him to a whole new one.

‘Look, our podcast grew,’ he says of the weeks after publication. ‘I don’t know if I’ve ever said that publicly. Our audience grew from that. It was wild. Some people say all press is good press – unless it’s happening to you. But at the same time, I didn’t want to lean into it because another narrative emerged. There was this folk-hero narrative, like, “You were dating all these other women.” I didn’t want that either.’

(That particular narrative, popular in some corners of the manosphere, framed multiple relationships as a sign of alpha-male status.)

Today, Huberman reflects on the experience differently.

‘I’ve made not the best choices about relationships and partners in the past,’ he says. ‘I asked myself where I’d made poor decisions about people, where I needed to take a look at myself, where I needed to make changes internally, and where I needed to put my foot down and say, “No, that’s not actually true.” This is the toughest thing about being a public-facing person: you have to have a very clear sense of self. Otherwise, what people say – both positive and negative – can distort your self-perception.’

And because he’s Huberman, he found a protocol of sorts to help navigate the emotional fallout, drawing on the guidance of his friend Martha Beck, the Harvard-trained sociologist.

Huberman says Beck’s analogy of ‘the human lighthouse’ taught him the importance of acknowledging the parts of yourself you’d rather avoid. Imagine a lighthouse casting a circular beam. If there’s a stain on the lens, it creates a shadow. It’s in that shadow, Beck argues, that life’s biggest hurts tend to live. Clean the lens, and the shadow disappears.

‘The last thing you want to do is try to be seen as perfect. So apparently – and I’m being half-serious – my biggest mistake was not telling people just how imperfect I was. I’m perfectly happy going on record – then and now – saying I’m an imperfect person,’ he says. ‘I struggle with all sorts of things. But I strive to be a good person.’

Huberman has spoken – and podcasted – openly about his experiences with talk therapy over the past three decades, but more recently he’s begun discussing his exploration of psychedelics.

He has undergone clinically supervised sessions involving MDMA and psilocybin, which he says transformed both the way he remembers his past and how he experiences the present.

‘I was able to really think about things from my childhood, things from my life that I’d never been able to face before,’ he says. ‘Everything is amplified with psychedelics, so you really get into your emotions, but then everything opens up. It was like a new vista. Now I have a completely different relationship with the past. I look at it with gratitude. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to repeat some of that stuff. I managed to throw myself against the rocks of life many times without needing to. But now I’m living in a peaceful place. I can finally exhale.’

Just as he takes his training seriously, Huberman has also become increasingly open about his faith.

‘Ever since I was little, I believed in God,’ he says. ‘I just didn’t feel comfortable talking about it.’

Over the past three years, however, he has begun leaning into what he describes as ‘a sneaking suspicion that there was something more’.

As a neuroscientist interested in understanding the human mind, it’s a difficult topic to reconcile.

‘I don’t know what form it takes, but maybe this God thing is something to lean into and things will start to make more sense.’

He says he eventually realised that faith works much like exercise: you strengthen it through practice.

‘I learned that in prayer you’re allowed to have doubts about the existence of God, but you believe anyway. It’s a practice, like working out.’

He never prayed ‘for stuff’. Instead, he prayed for clarity, peace of mind and guidance. Over time, he says, the results became ‘astounding’.

‘You could argue this is all just the human mind convincing itself and looping back on itself. I can’t rule that out. But the big one for me was when my dad came on my podcast.’

The episode with Bernardo Huberman, released in December 2024, was titled How to Use Curiosity & Focus to Create a Joyful and Meaningful Life.

‘He’s a theoretical physicist, and I said, “Would you explain chaos theory and relativity?” He said, “You know I can and I will, but one of the most important things you learn as a physicist is that you can’t use the logic of the human mind to understand quantum mechanics. Anyone who says they understand quantum mechanics but can’t do the maths doesn’t understand it.”‘

Huberman says that conversation helped him draw a parallel between science and faith.

‘When we started talking about God and faith, I said, “That’s similar to God. The human mind can’t get from A to B to C in a linear way. In physics, you have the maths to rely on. In a relationship with God, you have faith to rely on.”‘

He hasn’t missed his nightly prayer in almost three years.

‘I pray for other people. I pray for clarity around things that are troubling me. Even before a podcast, I pray for the egos to leave the room, for it to benefit people. Then I ask God to open a little crevice to let something in that’s beyond either me or the guest – something beyond our conscious awareness.

‘Sometimes it happens,’ he says. ‘Sometimes it doesn’t.’

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Lightning Round

Exercise protocol?

Walk as much as possible every day. Strength train three times a week, do cardio three times a week, and fit in two to four short mobility and flexibility sessions.

Weekly training split?

Long, slow run; leg day; recovery day; chest, back and neck (aka ‘torso’ day); 30-minute tempo cardio; 30-minute HIIT Tabata session on an AirDyne; arms and shoulders.

Gym anthem?

The Sentence by Rancid. The best song ever.

What’s the better compliment: ‘Jacked’, ‘Ripped’ or ‘Swole’?

That you’re all three – and not ‘for your age’.

Cardio goal?

Run a sub-seven-minute mile again. I ran cross-country at high school and my best time was 4:57. But I’m heavier and older now.

Burger order?

Double cheeseburger. Tomato and lettuce on the side.

Meal you’ve mastered?

Steak. Growing up as the son of an Argentine, I know how to cook steak properly, indoors or on the barbecue. I also make an excellent chimichurri. I’ve never had any response other than, ‘This is the best steak!’

Comfort food?

I love porridge. I guess I lucked out. Cinnamon, cream and a little maple syrup if I’m feeling decadent.

Fantasy workout partner, alive or dead?

Santiago Ramón y Cajal, the father of neuroscience and an avid bodybuilder. Look him up.

Last time you cried?

Out of happiness? After a recent walk with my puppy, Strummer. He must have been exhausted, like a toddler who’d completely worn himself out. He was jumping around, going crazy, and I was laughing so hard that tears streamed down my face.

Out of sadness? I speak to my parents often. They’re both in their 80s now. I hope they live another 20 years, but I’m bracing myself for what’s inevitably coming. Every interaction with them feels more and more precious.

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Photographs: Eric Ray Davidson
Visual Director: Sally Berman
Video Executive Producer/Director: Dorenna Newton
Video Producer: Angel Lenise Pyles
Video DP: Ryan Murphy
Video Editor: Kyle Orozovich