Don’t be the vitamin B guy

Towards scientific rigor for decentralized science. When I was eleven years old, I watched my favorite YouTuber surgically implant a magnet into his finger. In the since-deleted video, beloved mad scientist Cody Reeder covered a neodymium magnet with gold using a homemade electroplating rig. Then he cut open his finger, inserted the magnet, and sutured the wound closed with horsehair he had taken from his own horse. Cody polishes the magnet in preparation for surgery. The beaker contains a gold cyanide solution used to electroplate a thin bioinert coating onto the magnet. Cody’sLab went viral in 2016 for drinking a small dose of cyanide on camera. The footage is an uncomfortable watch for medical professionals and squeamish laymen alike. The scalpel was chipped, there was no anesthetic, and at one point, Cody dips a mechanical pencil in alcohol and uses its tip to push the magnet deeper into the incision. Being eleven, I thought it was badass.[1] And yet, after the juvenile enthusiasm faded, I was left unsettled, not by the blood or the questionable sterile technique, but by a newfound resentment at the lack of a sense I never had. A sense that wasn’t even human. Like a fish learning about water, I woke to the injustice of my biological limitations, and since then, I’ve considered myself an aspiring biohacker.[2] Back when I had [a magnet] in the first time […] I became very fond of being able to tell when things were magnetic, you know, feel electricity going through wires without touching them, or determine if an object is metallic iron or not. And now that the magnet is gone, I actually feel blind. […] It’s hard to explain, but I really want the magnet back. From the Diy Magnetic Implant video by Cody’sLab. It wasn’t until college that I attended my first biohacking event in meatspace: Grindfest. Grindfest attendee Asya gave me a “cyborg manicure” consisting of an LED and magnet under clear nail polish, pictured above. The magnet mimics the function of an implanted one, but with significantly less sensitivity. With an emphasis on the “meat.” I’ve never been anywhere that made me so acutely aware of the fact that I am made of it.[3] It is one thing to browse pictures and videos of unusual body mods, another to meet a biohacker in the altered flesh and see the LEDs shining from under her skin or from the iris of his prosthetic eye.[4] On the event grounds was a lab with an attached operating room - picture electronics in varying states of disassembly, bottles of chemicals labeled with Sharpie, and a modified dental chair, all smelling faintly of antiseptic - referred to by one attendee as the ripperdoc clinic. Of the many activities hosted in that space, the most pedestrian were the talks, typically tutorials for useful skills or presentations on personal projects. One such presentation turned out to be extremely memorable for all the wrong reasons. The tale of the vitamin B guy The vitamin B guy was an older gentleman, somewhat unkempt and wholly unremarkable. At a place like Grindfest, a person like him might work as a straight-laced government contractor securing municipal systems from cyberattacks, or be a minor celebrity in the BDSM scene for his hook suspension performances, or spend his spare time building terrifying contraptions from disassembled microwaves, or all of the above. This particular individual was presenting a slideshow on the power of vitamin B supplements. He started the talk with a classic list of vague health complaints - fatigue, brain fog, and the like - and followed up with an equally classic amateur-pharmacologist screed on the necessity of B12 supplements in individuals with certain genetic variants,[5] to which he attributed all of his problems. He then claimed that oral supplements were inadequate, and that intramuscular injections were required, and then proceeded to attribute increasingly incredible benefits to B12. In one alarming anecdote, he said he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, fumbled for his vitamin shot, and felt instant relief. Holy shit, I thought. The placebo effect is a hell of a drug. At this point, he retrieved a giant, crusty, half-empty bottle of injectable B12. He’s been taking a veterinary formulation to save costs, he said. If it’s good enough for racehorses, it’s good enough for him. Possibly the brand that vitamin B guy was using, courtesy of Chewy. It’s not uncommon for biohackers to use veterinary supplies for cost or ease of access. Then he pulled out a handful of needles and syringes, and invited the audience to get an injection on the spot. It’s perfectly safe, he said, showing off a scar on his leg. He only got an infection once. An organizer enthusiastically remarked that this was a great opportunity to practice injection technique, and demonstrated on a volunteer. Several attendees lined up to get their B12 shots, placing a remarkable amount of trust in the vitamin B guy’s ability to keep his bottle of horse vitamins