This Brain Trick Feels Like Cheating (Do THIS) : 1402

Globally we’re pushing people out of their prefrontal cortex as brain immune cells flip into their hostile mode because their mitochondria are off, and the question is how we guide them back to being protective—tools like rhythmic light and sound can help reset that environment.

Welcome to The Human Upgrade, live in Las Vegas with my friend Dr. David Perlmutter—six‑time New York Times bestselling neurologist and one of the kindest, sharpest minds in brain health; let’s dig into autism, Alzheimer’s, microglia, and everything in between.

Autism’s personal for me, and I’ve written about improving my symptoms; what’s your take on where autism stands today?

It isn’t one thing—it’s a spectrum with many patterns driven by genetics, epigenetics, toxins, microbiome shifts, and gut‑derived metabolites, where a healthier butyrate‑to‑propionate balance often tracks with better language, social ease, and sensory tolerance, so single‑cause thinking misses the picture.

We made the same mistake in Alzheimer’s by chasing amyloid as the cause, which led to drugs approved for clearing plaques rather than improving cognition; the upstream issue is brain immunity and microglial metabolism, which goes awry when their mitochondria fail.

There’s a striking Parkinson’s trial from April 2024 showing a GLP‑1 agonist stabilized disease over eighteen months in a sizeable cohort, likely by restoring microglial energy handling, though I’m not saying everyone with Parkinson’s should take it—this is about targeting metabolism rather than only treating tremor and rigidity.

It echoes what I wrote years ago: when you power up mitochondria and grow connections, everything works better.

Microglia aren’t stuck; they shift between nurturing and destructive states, and better metabolic health nudges them toward the supportive side.

If I want fewer angry microglia and more supportive ones, what actually helps?

Some diabetes drugs like PPAR‑gamma agonists, metformin, perhaps rapamycin, and certainly GLP‑1s can bias that shift by improving mitochondrial function, because the destructive state leans on glycolysis instead of efficient oxidative metabolism.

I once used Actos for a short stint during a mold crash and felt profound clarity and lower inflammation, and I’m open to smart, occasional use of medicines that extend function and healthspan.

I’m all for integrating lifestyle with evidence‑based therapeutics—make the box bigger, keep “do no harm,” and stay curious, even into areas like gene therapy when safety and purpose are clear.

I’ve tried follistatin to tame myostatin and support muscle‑as‑pharmacy, and VEGF to shore up fragile microvasculature after infections and mold; vectors and safety matter, but these tools exist right now.

Muscle makes beneficial myokines like irisin and IL‑6 that drive AMPK and metabolic health, and while myostatin inhibition shows promise, we still weigh human safety; meanwhile, mold susceptibility has host factors, and environmental burdens—from glyphosate to EMF to agricultural practices—can amplify toxicity.

Take Florida’s sugarcane: paraquat use, field burns, and resulting particulates and runoff create air and water insults tied to neurological risk, with communities downwind and downstream carrying the burden.

A famous 1980s case showed a tainted street drug triggering instant Parkinsonism by poisoning mitochondria in a dopamine hub; the deeper revelation was microglia stayed stuck in destructive mode for years, continuing the damage—a pattern we also see in Alzheimer’s and CTE.

So how do we tell microglia to calm down?

Start with the big levers—real food, restorative sleep, movement, nature, and healthy relationships—then track glucose, insulin, inflammation, and consider targeted supports like hyperbaric oxygen, ketogenic strategies, urolithin A, CoQ10, rosmarinic acid, dihydromyricetin, low‑dose nicotine, and lithium orotate; we’re also eyeing the TREM2 pathway, since its loss raises Alzheimer’s risk and obesity can depress it.

Forty‑hertz light and sound can re‑engage gamma rhythms and reorient microglia, as Li‑Huei Tsai’s lab showed—it’s literally using sensory entrainment to guide brain immunity back toward support.

Infrared light flipped my brain on years ago, though I once over‑did a language area and mumbled for hours; lights and lasers still help me, which makes me wonder if they’re modulating microglia, neurons, or just mitochondria.

Photobiomodulation boosts mitochondria and that echoes into immune balance; mitochondria even traffic along microtubules and can be shared, and when those tracks falter—as with certain gene variants—neurodegeneration risk rises, which is why I’ve long framed Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s as acquired mitochondrial disorders.

Inflammation severs the top‑down link from prefrontal cortex to the amygdala, so we default to cravings and short‑term rewards; ultra‑processed diets drive that, and now GLP‑1 drugs are dampening urges broadly, which may already be shifting gambling, impulse buying, and alcohol‑related harm on a massive scale.

I’ve said from the start that low‑dose GLP‑1s look like healthspan tools; is microdosing for healthy people on the table?

We need studies, because your gut gives a tiny, minutes‑long GLP‑1 pulse after fiber, whereas weekly injections bathe receptors for days at levels roughly orders of magnitude higher, and the effects vary by dose, half‑life, and brain access—but remember, inflammatory signals cross into the brain even when drugs don’t.

Mitochondria act like a network, signaling with cytokines, vibration, biophotons, and maybe quantum effects, so changing mitochondria anywhere ripples everywhere—including into the brain.

I’d go further: our mitochondria are in dialogue with each other across people, and recognizing that interconnectedness changes how we think about healing.

The microtubule‑as‑antenna idea suggests mitochondria guide those antennas, which fits a view of consciousness that links biology and the field.

Whether you call it biofield or something else, practices like fasting, breathwork, darkness, or carefully guided psychedelics can open that channel, but safety and medical screening matter—above all, do no harm.

At its core, biohacking is a Trojan horse for longevity and awareness; once you realize you might live longer, you do the inner work so it’s a longer, happier life.

For me it comes back to simple, hard things: love your neighbor and yourself, drop judgment, unwind early programming, and remember happiness span may be the truest metric.

Near death, the body’s field shifts in ways many clinicians quietly recognize, and great healers read those unseen signals; it’s not captured by a purely mechanical model of biology.

I used to tell my wife I could smell Parkinson’s before exams, and traditional healers have always worked with the energy that sits beneath labs and scans; there’s an inherent goodness in life, and getting out of fight‑or‑flight lets us feel it and act like we’re in this together.

What a ride—let’s bring you back to champion microglia and keep teaching the world how to care for them.

On my way up here I simply leaned into the field and glided past security—call it a light‑touch Jedi trick—and I’m still laughing about it.

I once walked through an airport in that same state after deep training with Alberto Villoldo, and it was like the world waved me through; we should print a shirt that says, “I’m not the droid you’re searching for.”

This show is informational only; it isn’t medical advice, so talk with your healthcare provider before acting on anything you heard.