The Betrayal of Peter Attia and Andrew Huberman

The David Bar isn’t just disappointing. It’s hypocritical.

Peter Attia and Andrew Huberman are two of the most influential figures in today’s health and science space.

Attia’s book Outlive was a runaway success. By all accounts, a blockbuster that helped launch a national conversation—and public policy—about disease prevention. Huberman’s podcast racks up millions of listens, with a devoted audience that hangs on his every word.

Both men are brilliant communicators who’ve done tremendous work translating complex scientific ideas into practical, intuitive advice for the general public. They’ve built deep trust with their audiences. Trust that’s helped countless people improve their health.

Which is why their latest venture, the David protein bar, feels like such a betrayal.

They call it revolutionary. My take: factory food with a protein halo and a great marketing budget. It’s exactly the kind of product both men have warned against. It’s hard to believe they actually eat it themselves. (I bet they don’t.)

And yet, they’re profiting from its massive commercial success.

For two men who’ve positioned themselves as champions of evidence-based health, the David protein bar isn’t just disappointing. It’s hypocritical.

Drs. Andrew Huberman and Peter Attia

What is the David protein bar?

Launched less than a year ago by two protein bar moguls, the David bar has exploded onto the health scene. Valued at $725 million, it’s the darling bar of TikTok, with body builders and supermodels raving about its ‘insane’ macros: 28 grams of protein, 0 grams of sugar, just 3 grams of fat, and only 150 calories.

“It’s unheard of,” gushes one influencer.

But if there’s one hill I will die kill on, it’s this: macros ≠ health. Two meals can have identical macros—same protein, carbs, fat, and calories—and still land miles apart on the health spectrum.

Envision this: one meal is a grass-fed steak with buttered sweet potatoes and a garden-fresh salad. The other, a McDonald’s Big Mac and fries. Same macros, vastly different outcomes in the body.

The David bar’s macros might be “unbelievable,” sure. But the ingredients? They’re giving more Big Mac than grass-fed steak.

The very strange, secret ingredient in the David bar

The most concerning ingredient in the bar is the modified plant fat known as EPG oil. I had never heard of it before despite years of reading ingredient labels like an appellate judge. That curiosity led me down a rabbit hole. Turns out, the owners of David recently acquired the company that created EPG oil, and now they’re being sued by competitors who allege the move could block other companies from accessing the fat.

The fact that “food” companies are trademarking ingredients should set off alarm bells. You can’t patent nature’s food, the only food that actually nourishes and sustains life. If an ingredient is caught up in an intellectual property battle, chances are it’s not healthy.

EPG oil is made from seed oils (as if seed oils couldn’t get any more processed 😭) and contains about 90% fewer calories than nature-made fat. The company behind it insists EPG oil “can create a positive impact on the global health problems that concern consumers, including obesity and diabetes.”

I disagree. It’s the rejection of real fat—like butter—that’s helped fuel our current health crisis. EPG is just the latest chapter in the same misguided playbook.

Consumers are told to choose a food technologist’s latest invention—backed by venture capitalists—over their local farmer’s raw cheese. Is this techno-future how we reverse course? Or is it how we dig the hole deeper?

Research wise, the jury is still out on EPG oil. Studies have shown it can lower levels of fat-soluble vitamins like A, D, K, E, likely because EPG itself isn’t digestible. In other words, not only does it fail to nourish, it may actually strip the body of essential nutrients.

Overall, this new fat is still largely understudied. And I can’t help but think about the last time scientists decided to reinvent fat. We ended up with trans fat, one of the most harmful dietary experiments in modern history.

The other ingredients

The David Bar is loaded with concerning ingredients beyond EPG oil, starting with the main event: the protein blend. I’d bet their collagen is sourced from Brazil and hydrolyzed in China, standard practice for many big manufacturers. And the whey? It’s likely not from grass-fed, pasture-raised cows, but from confined, unhealthy ones. I could be wrong. I’d love to be wrong. But I doubt it.

Then there are the synthetic sweeteners like sucralose and acesulfame potassium. These compounds have been shown to disrupt the gut microbiome, damage DNA, and contribute to weight gain. A 2025 study in Nature even found that they rewire the brain’s appetite system—leaving you hungrier.

Andrew Huberman has frequently highlighted the downsides of artificial sweeteners.

The bar is also flavored with artificial flavors, a vague term that could mean just about anything. “Flavors are complex mixtures that sometimes comprise more than 100 chemicals. In addition to flavors themselves, these mixtures contain chemicals that have other functions. Solvents, emulsifiers, flavor modifiers and preservatives often make up 80 to 90 percent of the mixture,” explains David Andrews, a senior scientist with the Environmental Working Group.

And then there’s what they call the “binding system”—a mix of highly processed, unusual ingredients that borders on dystopian.

As one jacked bodybuilder said—unironically—in his glowing review of the bar: “I ain’t got to worry about eating food no more.”

Fair enough. He seems to understand it isn’t food.

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Tally the ingredients in this bar, and you get a lab-assembled, factory-made product that gives more stock market than farmers’ market.

And Peter Attia and Andrew Huberman know this. That’s what makes their endorsement so disheartening. They’ve built careers on being thoughtful, scientific, and trustworthy. Now they’re using that trust to sell an overpriced bar that contradicts everything they supposedly believe.

Why promote something so blatantly at odds with their principles?

My guess: A fat pay day. Probably six figures or more. If that’s what it takes to sideline their convictions, I hope the margins are worth it.