As global demand for longevity treatments surges, Australia is fast becoming a player in this lucrative industry.
3 min
There was a time — not so long ago — when the idea of an indulgent spa day was simply about relaxing massages and therapeutic facials, followed by a five-star lunch and perhaps a dip in a mineral pool. But the health and wellness industry has evolved rapidly, bringing with it an explosion of cutting-edge treatments designed to slow ageing, boost vitality, and extend healthspan.
Cold-water plunge pools, infrared saunas, and float tanks have taken over as the staples of health spas, wellness centres, and high-end gyms. Even real estate developments are tapping into this trend. But now, high-tech longevity treatments — from cryotherapy and IV infusions to genetic testing and advanced cellular therapies — are taking the wellness scene in Australia to unprecedented levels.
A burgeoning market globally, the health and wellness industry is estimated to have been worth more than US$5.6 trillion in 2022. Projections suggest this figure will grow to a staggering $13 trillion by 2031, with Australia steadily catching up to the US and Europe, where longevity treatments are thriving. High-profile figures like Gwyneth Paltrow, Jennifer Aniston, Chris Hemsworth, and even Tom Brady are among the faces championing biohacking and experimental therapies, from stem cell infusions to blood transfusions.
The Rise of Longevity Clinics in Australia
One of the key players in Australia’s emerging longevity scene is Tristan Sternson, founder of Super Young. Sternson’s foray into the world of longevity treatments began as he approached 40 — a milestone that made him reflect on his health. As a former elite athlete, the transition from feeling invincible to feeling vulnerable led him to explore solutions that would help him reclaim vitality.
Initially frustrated by the lack of accessible health data locally, Sternson turned to overseas clinics for tests and treatments that painted a clearer picture of his biological needs. His experience inspired him to create Super Young, a Melbourne-based clinic offering evidence-based therapies tailored to individual needs. Services include cryotherapy, IV infusions, genetic testing, and biological age assessments. Memberships range from $85–$289 per week, while one-off tests start at $899.
Sternson emphasises the importance of personalised treatments. “I want people to start with the evidence side of it so they can really understand their own body and what treatments will work for them,” he says.
The Science of Longevity Medicine
Dr Karen Coates, an integrative medical doctor and a presenter for The Longevity Project at Gwinganna Lifestyle Retreat, echoes Sternson’s emphasis on personalisation. She explains that longevity isn’t just about living longer but about living better — optimising health today while securing vitality for the future.
“One-size-fits-all approaches don’t apply when it comes to longevity,” says Dr Coates. “It’s about understanding your body’s genetic makeup and adopting personalised strategies to support health and longevity.”
At Gwinganna’s four-night Longevity Project retreat, guests can undergo gene testing, biological age assessments, and learn strategies to bridge the gap between chronological and biological age. Packages for the retreat range from $2915 to $5460.
Biohacking for All Budgets
Not all longevity treatments come with hefty price tags. Health coach Camilla Thompson points out that simple lifestyle adjustments — like cold showers to stimulate circulation or adding Celtic sea salt to water for better hydration — can supplement advanced therapies.
While advanced treatments like stem cell and peptide therapies are yet to gain widespread regulatory approval in Australia, Sternson is optimistic about their future. He envisions a time when longevity centres will be as common as gyms, giving clients the tools to monitor and manage their health with precision.
“What I’d love to see is health insurance companies get on board,” Sternson adds. “If they can give discounts for safe driving based on car data, why not for healthy habits based on glucose monitoring or other health indicators?”
As Australia continues to embrace longevity medicine, it’s clear the industry is poised to reshape not just health and wellness but how Australians approach ageing itself.
Rugged coastal drives and fireside drams define a slow, indulgent journey through Scotland’s far north.
A haven for hedge-fund titans and Hollywood grandees, Greenwich is one of the world’s most expensive residential enclaves, where eye-watering prices meet unapologetic grandeur.
Their careers spanned the personal computing, internet and smartphone waves. But some older workers see AI’s arrival as the cue to exit.
4 min
Luke Michel has already lived through two technology overhauls in his career, first desktop publishing in the 1980s and online publishing later on. But AI? He’s had enough.
So when his employer, the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, made an early-retirement offer to some staff last year, the 68-year-old content strategist decided to speed up his exit. Before, he had expected to work a couple more years.
“The time and energy you have to devote to learning a whole new vocabulary and a whole new skill set, it wasn’t worth it,” he said.
It isn’t that he’s shunning artificial intelligence—he is learning Spanish with the help of Anthropic’s Claude. But, at this point, he’s less than eager to endure all the ways the technology promises to upend work.
“I just want to use it for my own purposes and not someone else’s,” he said.
After rising for decades and then hovering around 40% in the 2010s, the share of Americans over 55 years old in the workforce has slipped to 37.2%, the lowest level in more than 20 years.
The financial cushion of rising home equity and stock-market returns is driving some of the decline, economists and retirement advisers say.
But for some older professionals, money is only part of the equation.
They say they don’t want to spend the last years of their career going through the tumult of AI adoption, which has brought new tools, new expectations and a lot of uncertainty.
Many people retire when key elements of their work lives are disrupted at once, said Robert Laura , co-founder of the Retirement Coaches Association and an expert on the psychology of retirement.
“Maybe their autonomy is being challenged or changed, their friends are leaving the workplace, or they disagree with the company’s direction,” he said.
“When two or three of these things show up, that’s when people start to opt out.”
“AI is a big one,” he adds. “It disrupts their autonomy, their professionalism.”
Michel, whose work required overseeing and strategizing on website content, has been here before.
When desktop publishing arrived in the 1980s, he was a graphic designer using triangles and rubber cement.
The internet’s arrival changed everything again. Both developments required new skills, and he was energized by the challenge of learning alongside colleagues and peers.
It felt different this time around. “Your battery doesn’t hold a charge as long as it used to,” he said.
He would rather spend his energy volunteering, making art, going to operas and chairing the Council on Aging in North Andover, Mass., where he lives.
In an AARP survey last summer of 5,000 people 50 and over, 25% of those who planned to retire sooner than expected counted work stress and burnout as factors.
About half of those retired said they had left work at least partly because they had the financial security to do so.
In general, older Americans are less likely than younger counterparts to use AI, research shows.
About 30% of people from ages 30 to 49 said they used ChatGPT on the job, nearly double the share of those 50 and older, according to a 2025 Pew Research Center survey of more than 5,000 adults.
Baby boomers and members of Generation X also experienced the sharpest declines in confidence using AI technology, according to a ManpowerGroup survey of more than 13,900 workers in 19 countries.
“We as employers aren’t doing a good enough job saying (to older workers), we value the skills that you already have, so much so that we want to invest in you to help you do your job better,” says Becky Frankiewicz , ManpowerGroup’s chief strategy officer.
Jennifer Kerns’s misgivings about AI contributed to her departure last month from GitHub, where the 60-year-old worked as a program manager.
Coming from a family of artists, she said, it offends her that AI models train on the creative work of people who aren’t compensated for their intellectual property. And she worries about AI’s effect on people’s critical-thinking skills.
So she was dismayed when GitHub, a Microsoft-owned hosting service for software projects, began investing heavily in AI products and expecting employees to incorporate AI into much of their work. In employee-engagement surveys, the company had begun asking them to rate their AI usage on a scale of 1 to 5.
When it came time to write reports and reviews, colleagues would suggest that she use ChatGPT.
“I’d be like, ‘I have no idea how to use that and I have no interest in using AI to write anything for me,’” she said.
It would have been more prudent to work until she was closer to Medicare eligibility, she said. But by waiting until her children were out of college and some of her stock grants had vested, the math worked.
Her first act as a nonworking person: a solo trip to Scotland, where she took a darning workshop and learned how to repair sweaters.
“The opposite of AI,” she said.
Employers already under pressure to cut workers—such as in the tech industry—may welcome some of these retirements, said Gad Levanon , chief economist at Burning Glass Institute, which studies labor-market data.
“The more people retire, the fewer they have to let go,” he said.
Some of the savviest tech users are also balking at sticking around for the AI upheaval. Terry Grimm, who worked in IT for 40 years, retired from his senior software consultant role at 65 last May.
His firm had just been acquired by a bigger firm, which meant learning and integrating the parent company’s AI and other tech tools into his work.
Until then, Grimm expected he might work a couple more years, though he felt that he probably had enough saved to retire.
“I just got to the point where I was spending 40 hours at work and then 20 hours training and studying,” said Grimm, who has since moved with his wife from the Dallas area to a housing development on a golf course in El Dorado, Ark.
“I’m like, ‘I’ll let the younger guys do this.’”
