Define longevity first
Kasia Redman trained in bioscience and molecular biotechnology, and spent her career split between research and the commercial end of drug development and technology commercialisation — the business of getting a therapy out of a lab and into a person. About twelve years ago a project with a stem cell laboratory pulled her toward regenerative medicine, and she moved from biotech into longevity as an entrepreneur.
She founded one of London’s first longevity and biohacking clinics, with a deliberately unglamorous premise: bring the experts, the technologies and the therapies under one roof, and make them more accessible and more affordable than they are scattered across a dozen specialists.
When Marek put it to her that there is no such thing as a real longevity clinic yet — that you should walk in at sixty and walk out biologically forty — she declined the premise. Before you can define a longevity clinic, you have to define longevity. The popular version is living forever and staying beautiful. The achievable version, today, is extending healthspan, delaying the onset of the diseases of civilisation, and holding on to function and performance for as long as possible. Lifespan comes after that, not instead of it.
She is equally unwilling to accept that timidity is the field’s problem. Research follows funding, and funding follows priorities set by donors, investors and expected returns. When the regulatory framework and the business trajectory align, the science moves. Her other concern is subtler and more practical: we now generate enormous quantities of data — health records, omics, wearables, lifestyle testing — and we simply do not have enough people able to combine it into a usable picture. That, she thinks, is where AI earns its place.
