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The toxic business of selling testosterone to men who don’t need it

When health advice comes wrapped in a discount code and a flexed bicep, pause before you click.

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When health advice comes wrapped in a discount code and a flexed bicep, pause before you click.

A few nights ago, after Emilia finally drifted off and the dishes were stacked to dry, I opened Instagram for a quick scroll. Within minutes, my feed was full of bronzed bodies telling me about “low T.” There were links for finger-prick tests, discount codes, and a promise that more testosterone is the missing piece for focus, muscle, confidence, even happiness. I wasn’t surprised. But I felt that familiar mix of curiosity and frustration that comes when health meets marketing.

Today there’s hard evidence that this isn’t just a vibe. A new peer-reviewed study in Social Science & Medicine analyzed how testosterone gets sold on TikTok and Instagram. The researchers found a pattern of influencers pairing a narrow ideal of masculinity with calls to “check your levels,” often tied to affiliate codes and paid promotions. They call it “selling masculinity,” and it shows how content about “low T” blurs into commerce and ideology, especially for young men who are already healthy.

What the new research actually found

The study looked at high-engagement posts about testosterone testing and treatment on Instagram and TikTok. The authors describe a marketing ecosystem that frames normal ups and downs in energy, mood, or libido as pathology, then funnels viewers toward at-home testing or clinic pipelines. The content leans on aesthetics of strength and control and suggests that medicalized optimization is a lifestyle. In short, it’s not just a product pitch. It’s a story about what a man should be.

This work sits alongside broader findings from 2025 showing that influencer content about medical tests is overwhelmingly promotional and often omits risks. A cross-sectional analysis published in JAMA Network Open reviewed 982 posts about five popular tests, including testosterone, and found 87 percent emphasized benefits while fewer than 15 percent mentioned potential harms. Only 6 percent referenced overdiagnosis. That’s a big gap between what viewers hear and what responsible medicine would explain.

The Guardian’s reporting has traced the clinical impact too. UK endocrinologists say their clinics are seeing men pushed by social media to seek testosterone therapy they likely don’t need. It clogs waiting lists and, more importantly, exposes people to unnecessary treatments with real side effects. As Prof. Channa Jayasena put it, the rush is distorting medical practice and hurting those who genuinely need care.

Why this hits young men so hard

I grew up between cultures and I’ve seen how ideas about manhood shift from place to place. Social media flattens those differences. An algorithm can push the same hard-edged, performance-driven image of masculinity in São Paulo, Santiago, and Almaty. Ofcom’s overview of the “manosphere” describes a web of communities where narrow definitions of male success thrive, and where health advice is woven into identity talk. Testosterone fits neatly here. You’re not just buying a test. You’re buying a version of yourself that promises certainty.

There’s also the sales funnel. The posts don’t stop at “get tested.” They lead to supplement stacks, repeated bloodwork subscriptions, or telehealth consults that may be too quick to label and treat. UK regulators have already had to police promotions around prescription medicines online, and investigators have flagged a rise in social ads for testosterone among other gray-market health offers. The lines between education, advertising, and medical guidance get very thin when clicks equal revenue.

What the science says about testing and treatment

There are men who benefit from testosterone therapy. Hypogonadism is real and should be diagnosed carefully. The International Consultation for Sexual Medicine’s 2024 recommendations are clear: low testosterone is a clinical diagnosis that requires both repeatedly low serum testosterone and specific symptoms, followed by specialist evaluation. It is not a quick fix for being tired, stressed, or insecure.

The problem is overuse and overdiagnosis. If a healthy young man with a normal morning level is told he’s “low” based on a single test or vague symptoms, he may be steered toward therapy he doesn’t need. That can suppress natural hormone production and affect fertility. The JAMA analysis warns that social media posts rarely mention these tradeoffs, which leaves people under-informed right at the point they’re deciding to spend money or start a medical journey.

“Only 6 percent referenced overdiagnosis.” That line stayed with me. It means most posts aren’t preparing viewers for the reality that more testing can create more “patients,” even when nothing is wrong. As noted by the JAMA authors, social media can push people toward low-value testing and treatment with little awareness of cost and risk.

The business model behind the hype

When I look at these posts through a practical lens, I don’t just see health talk. I see conversion. Tests are relatively low friction. They create a data stream. That data gives you reasons to retest, to add a supplement, to book a consultation. The University of Copenhagen study shows how masculinity narratives are used as the glue, so the sales journey feels like self-improvement rather than a funnel.

There’s precedent across health categories. Researchers have tracked a sharp rise in UK social advertising for prescription-only products like semaglutide and testosterone. On top of that, watchdogs and regulators keep publishing enforcement updates because digital ads are slippery and new sellers pop up fast. Even when platforms or agencies remove explicit drug pitches, the content often reappears reframed as “education” or “awareness.”

I don’t think every clinic operating online is predatory. Many are filling service gaps with legitimate telemedicine. But incentive structures matter. When creators earn affiliate income from every test sold, the content shifts. It gets brighter, simpler, and more urgent. That urgency is the signal to slow down.

What a balanced path could look like

I’m a routine person. My mornings depend on predictable systems because our little family runs on teamwork. That same mindset helps with health. If you’re worried about your energy or libido, build a simple checklist before you buy anything: sleep, stress, training load, nutrition, alcohol, and any new meds. Then, if concerns persist, talk to a doctor and ask for proper morning testing, repeated to confirm, plus a clear discussion of symptoms and alternatives. That is slower than a swipe-up code. It’s also more likely to serve you well in six months.

We also need better information where eyeballs already are. Urologists and sexual medicine specialists have started auditing TikTok content on “low T,” and they found very few physician creators in the mix. Their conclusion was boring in the best way. We need more accurate, non-commercial education in the same spaces where misinformation circulates. It’s not glamorous. It is necessary.

I’ll add something else. Most women I know have already been through a decade of negotiating algorithm medicine, from fertility ads to detoxes. We built a habit of texting each other studies before we test or buy. Men deserve that same culture of cross-checking. Share the research. Ask a friend to look at your plan before you spend.

Voices worth hearing

“Men may come to perceive themselves as inherently deficient or in need of medical intervention.” That observation from University of Copenhagen researcher Emma Grundtvig Gram sums up the risk of tying identity to lab numbers. If you link your worth to a biomarker, you’ll always need the next test.

Professor Jayasena’s warning is the clinical counterpart: clinic time and attention are finite, and hype diverts care from those who need it. When a system is already overloaded, that diversion has consequences.

And the JAMA team’s data is the map. When the vast majority of posts skip harms, we should assume social media won’t tell the full story and plan accordingly.

My take, as a mom, a partner, and a lifelong student of routines

I’m raising a daughter, but I think a lot about the boys who will grow up alongside her. I want them to meet models of masculinity that make room for rest, softness, and long timelines. I want them to hear from doctors and coaches who say, let’s check your sleep before your serum. I want them to see that most of the confidence we’re promised in a bottle can be built with boring habits that last.

At home, that looks like early dinners, regular training, and decent sleep. On our screens, it looks like pausing before we buy. If you’re seeing “low T” everywhere, follow the money and the methods. Is this creator citing guidelines or a discount code. Are they linking to neutral information or to a checkout. Are they describing risks or only benefits.

Curiosity is healthy. So is skepticism. If you hold both, you can still take care of yourself without getting pulled into someone else’s sales target.

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Ainura Kalau

Ainura was born in Central Asia, spent over a decade in Malaysia, and studied at an Australian university before settling in São Paulo, where she’s now raising her family. Her life blends cultures and perspectives, something that naturally shapes her writing. When she’s not working, she’s usually trying new recipes while binging true crime shows, soaking up sunny Brazilian days at the park or beach, or crafting something with her hands.

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