Bryan Johnson recently announced that he has autoimmune gastritis. His immune system is attacking cells in his stomach that help his body absorb iron and vitamin B12. The disease can remain hidden for years and increase the risk of certain stomach cancers.

Johnson is famous for spending millions trying to slow ageing. He measures almost everything about his body and speaks openly about defeating death. So when his diagnosis became public, the story seemed to arrive with a joke already written:

The man trying hardest not to die has developed a disease medicine cannot cure.

Some people showed concern. Many others sounded satisfied. They blamed his diet, supplements, injections and obsession with health. They had never seen his medical records, but that hardly mattered. His illness appeared to prove that he was wrong and they were right.

It proved neither.

The internet turns public figures into ideas. Johnson no longer represents only himself. He represents money, vanity, biohacking and the belief that death can be defeated.

When he became ill, people did not feel they were laughing at a patient. They felt they were watching an idea fail.

That made the laughter feel harmless.

There are good reasons to question Johnson. His claims and products should be tested. His experiments may fail. But criticism asks whether his ideas are wrong. It does not need his body to suffer in order to win.

There’s a simple explanation for the satisfaction. We find it easier to enjoy the fall of someone who is rich, envied or seen as arrogant. Their misfortune can feel like the world correcting itself. Researchers have repeatedly observed this response toward high-status people.

Johnson had challenged the one rule that applies to everyone. His illness seemed to put him back in his place.

People called it karma.

But disease does not punish arrogance. Stomach cells do not know someone’s bank balance. We gave the illness a moral meaning because it made our satisfaction easier to accept.

Now imagine Johnson sitting across from you with the medical report in his hand. He tells you that his immune system is damaging his stomach and that there is no established cure.

Would you still make the joke?

Probably not.

The absence of eye contact is a major reason people become harsher online. A screen removes the face, the pause and the effect of our words. It leaves us alone with our cleverness.

This does not mean everyone who laughed is cruel. Many would show genuine kindness to a sick person standing in front of them.

That is what should disturb us.

The screen did not reveal monsters. It showed how little distance ordinary people need to forget that someone is real.

Johnson may be wrong about many things. His diagnosis does not make his critics right.

One man says, “I am ill.”

The internet hears, “You were right.”

Only a screen could make them sound like the same sentence.

Reference: Bryan Johnson’s original announcement on X.