Maybe you've seen the ads — "Discover your true age!" — or 50-year-old Silicon Valley gramp-bros bragging that they're "biologically 35." Or you've been exposed to "longevity influencers" and their more toxic (and almost entirely male) cousins, longevity chiselers, chatting up their biological-age test results.

In just a few years, the biological age clock industry — an asinine phrase, I admit — has mutated from academic pursuit to consumer phenomenon, with more than a dozen companies now promising to reveal how fast you're aging via a simple, mail-order test.

What exactly are these tests measuring, and are they worth hundreds of dollars?

How biological age clocks started ticking

In 2013, UCLA scientist Steve Horvath made a striking discovery: as we age, our DNA accumulates chemical tags in predictable patterns. By measuring these patterns, he could guess someone's age with remarkable accuracy — sometimes within a few years.

This seminal "Horvath clock" launched an industry.

Just as trees add rings each year, our bodies accumulate these chemical markers — called methylation — on our DNA as we age. Horvath's innovation was finding which specific markers best tracked with age across different types of tissue. Later versions of his clock went further, attempting to predict not just age but how long someone might live.

Soon, other scientists developed other, different types of biological clocks. Some measure the length of telomeres, which are protective caps on our chromosomes that shorten as we age. (If you ever want to flatter a middle-aged biologist at a cocktail party, just say, "I bet your telomeres are really long" and see what happens.)

Other biological clocks analyze sugar molecules attached to proteins in blood, which change patterns as we get older. Still others observe which genes are active or dormant, or examine metabolic byproducts floating in our bloodstream.

The newest approach is to measure your "pace of aging" — essentially, whether you're aging faster or slower than normal. Instead of saying you're "biologically 40," these tests might claim to show that you're aging, say, 0.9 years for every calendar year, suggesting you're on a slightly slower trajectory than average.

Another nugget of the longevity industry gold rush

Maybe I'm just biologically uncool, but it almost seems like the longevity industry is making stuff that its native influencers and chiselers can market (for an undisclosed fee) on TikTok.

Even simple blood tests are now being repackaged as aging clocks. By feeding standard lab results — cholesterol, blood sugar, inflammation markers — through sophisticated algorithms, companies estimate your biological age without any molecular analysis.

Each approach claims to capture something unique about aging. Proponents of sugar-molecule tests argue they respond more quickly to lifestyle changes. DNA methylation advocates say their method is more stable and scientifically validated. Telomere enthusiasts insist they're measuring cellular aging at its most fundamental level.

The argument against biological age clocks

These tests, typically costing $200 to $600 with some premium versions exceeding $1,000, probably aren't worth it for most people, if you ask me. Which, I realize, you have not.

The fundamental problem is biological age isn't a real thing; it's a statistical concept. When a test says you're "biologically 38" at 45, it means your pattern of markers resembles the average 38-year-old in the testing company's database. You're not actually younger; you just share certain molecular signatures with younger people.

It's kind of like saying that wearing preposterously baggy clothes in 2025 makes you 14 years old. All it does is make you look ridiculous — especially to 14-year-olds.

More importantly, these expensive tests all lead to the same boring advice: exercise regularly, eat vegetables, sleep eight hours, manage stress, limit alcohol. You don't need an expensive age clock test to receive the same advice your doctor has been giving you for a $25 office-visit co-pay.

Even tracking changes over time is problematic. Natural variation, lab errors and algorithm updates can shift your reported biological age by years between tests. Did that expensive supplement protocol work, or did you just catch the algorithm on a good day?

The argument for biological age clocks

Seeing your biological age drop might keep you exercising through a minor injury or a weight-loss plateau. For those experimenting with cutting-edge longevity interventions, these clocks offer one of the few ways to measure whole-body effects.

Plus, early adopters fund important research. Today's imperfect tests might evolve into tomorrow's essential health tools, just as early, crude cholesterol tests eventually became routine medicine.

But for now, biological age testing remains an expensive report card that might tell you mostly what you probably already know, or suspect.

Until the science matures and prices drop, spend your money instead on proven investments in your health — a gym membership, unprocessed groceries or a mini-vacation to reduce stress and get some sleep — the world's greatest free longevity drug.

Those actually make you healthier, whatever your "biological age" might be.

To find out more about Paul Von Zielbauer and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.

Photo credit: julien Tromeur at Unsplash