In the corners of the internet where bodybuilders and fitness enthusiasts gather to swap tips on steroids and performance-enhancing drugs, Mair Underwood found herself an unlikely participant. As a middle-aged anthropologist from the University of Queensland in Australia, she didn’t quite fit the mold of the typical steroid user. That’s because she wasn’t there to bulk up or try drugs. Her plans were more academic in nature.
She wanted to understand “broscience” — a term coined by bodybuilders to describe the collective, experiential knowledge they’ve built around image and performance-enhancing drugs (IPEDs).
Over five years, she immersed herself in this clandestine world, learning its language and earning its trust.
“As a middle-aged woman, at first I was ignored in a lot of these communities,” she told ABC. “But as I lived in online forums and learnt how to speak bodybuilder … eventually more and more people opened up.”
Her findings, recently published in the journal Performance Enhancement & Health, reveal a world where experimentation and anecdote often trump scientific rigor, with potentially deadly consequences. But there’s also a silver lining: broscience might hold the key to reducing harm for the millions of people who use these drugs.
The Birth of Broscience
The story of broscience begins in the 1940s, when bodybuilders first started experimenting with testosterone. Back then, there was no scientific research to guide them. They relied on trial and error, passing down tips from one generation to the next. If something worked, it became part of the lore.
“Arnold [Schwarzenegger] and his contemporaries did things that worked, simply because they worked,” one bodybuilding blog noted.
This experiential knowledge was the foundation of broscience. But it wasn’t until the internet arrived that broscience truly came into its own. Suddenly, bodybuilders could share their experiences on forums, compare notes, and even debate the science behind their practices.
By the early 2000s, broscience had evolved. It was no longer enough to know what worked. Bodybuilders wanted to know why. They began citing scientific studies, often pulling from PubMed and other academic databases.
“We have to rely on broscience because there isn’t really anything else out there,” said Wally, a recreational bodybuilder who participated in a recent study. “There’s not a lot of research into young, healthy guys putting this stuff in them.”
But broscience often interprets research in ways that scientists might find questionable. Bodybuilders extrapolate from animal studies, combine drugs in ways that have never been tested, and sometimes make leaps of logic that would make a researcher cringe.
“Do You Even Lift?”
“Broscience is sort of like, the best of a bad situation,” said Bjorn, another participant. “Trying to find legitimate sources backing anecdotes. So, people will make anecdotal observations about something. They will say this drug did this to me, this drug did that to me, and try to find an explanation based on literature, which is obviously difficult because a lot of the stuff, like Tren [trenbolone] for example hasn’t been used in human studies, so you can only look at what it will do in cattle, and hopefully the person who is typing up a post on the Reddit board [a specific online forum] isn’t talking shit, and hopefully they understand how receptor interaction will work.”
Broscience thrives in online forums, gym locker rooms, and closed Facebook groups. It’s a grassroots system of knowledge-sharing, where users experiment on themselves and pass on advice about drug dosages, which steroids to avoid, and what kind of “gains” to expect. Some even read scientific studies, though their interpretations are often flawed.
Broscience is obviously not peer-reviewed. What passes on as credibility instead is the influencer’s body — it’s the ultimate proof. If a bodybuilder looks jacked, his advice carries weight — literally.
“The body settled arguments,” one blogger wrote. Hence the famous meme: “Bro, do you even lift?”
This is concerning, especially because broscience is also big business with influencers incentivized to overstate or embellish the benefits and risks of performance-enhancing drugs. Some bodybuilders, known as “anabolics coaches,” make a living by selling their expertise. While many of these coaches genuinely want to help others, their advice isn’t always based on solid science.
“It’s my impression that many broscientists overstate their knowledge,” wrote Underwood, the anthropologist who led the study. “They project an air of confidence when they have little to be confident about.”
The Troubling Side of Broscience
Perhaps the most striking feature of broscience is how it normalizes harm. Effects that would horrify the average person — like permanent shutdown of testosterone production — are shrugged off as part of the process.
“You’ll know yourself now, having spoken to users, if you speak to them about being infertile or having testicular shutdown, some of them, they’re very casual about it,” said Sean, a bodybuilder. “It’s like, ‘Well, if my balls don’t work, I’ll just go on TRT [testosterone replacement therapy].’”
But the risks are painfully real. Broscience lacks the rigorous standards of academic research. It’s not peer-reviewed, and its advice can be dangerously inaccurate. Take insulin, for example — a drug some bodybuilders use to increase muscle mass. In high doses, it can be lethal. Underwood recalls an influencer in the community advising his followers to take insulin doses three to 10 times higher than what others were using. “It was an unnecessary and potentially dangerous risk,” she says.
Oral steroids like Dianabol and Anadrol are popular in broscience circles, but they are known to cause severe liver damage when used in high doses or for extended periods. Some bodybuilders, following broscience protocols, have developed liver toxicity or even liver failure.
High doses of anabolic-androgenic steroids (AAS), combined with poor monitoring, have led to cases of heart attacks, strokes, and cardiomyopathy in young bodybuilders.
Some bodybuilders experience severe mood swings, depression, or aggression (often referred to as “roid rage”) due to steroid use. Broscience often dismisses these effects as exaggerated or unrelated to AAS.
Broscience forums often recommend underground labs or unverified sources for steroids. This has led to cases of bodybuilders injecting contaminated or fake substances, resulting in infections, abscesses, or even sepsis.
For teenagers, the consequences can be severe. “It can, paradoxically, lead to stunted growth and height,” Jason Nagata, a pediatrician specializing in adolescent health at the University of California San Francisco, told ABC. “It can also cause disruptions in normal development that can have significant consequences.”
What if Science and Broscience joined hands?
The main problem, Underwood explains, is that many bodybuilders lack the scientific training to evaluate the expertise of their self-appointed gurus. “It comes down to personality, ability to sell yourself, and the ‘look,’” she says.
For decades, the worlds of science and broscience have been at odds. Scientists have dismissed broscience as unscientific, while bodybuilders have mistrusted scientists for overstating the risks of IPEDs.
But now, researchers like Underwood are calling for a new approach. Instead of dismissing broscience, they argue, scientists should engage with it.
“We professionals have left it to people who use IPEDs themselves to reduce the harms of their drug use,” Underwood said. “We have very little idea what kind of job they are doing.”
One way to bridge the gap is by turning broscience into science. Bodybuilders are already conducting their own experiments, some diligently tracking their results and monitoring their drug use. With some guidance, these experiments could be systematized and analyzed, providing valuable data for researchers.
“We can help broscientists become ‘citizen scientists,’” Underwood said.
Another approach is to evaluate broscience, correcting errors and helping bodybuilders interpret the science more accurately. This could reduce the risks associated with IPED use while preserving the practical knowledge that broscience provides.
“The most fruitful way to reduce IPED harm is to work together,” Underwood said. “Together, we can overcome the divides in knowledge that are currently contributing to our own IPED harm.”
“While broscience doesn’t always get it right,” she added, “some dangers could be minimized by scientists using information steroid users have already gathered.”
Broscience isn’t going away. As long as people use IPEDs, they’ll continue to generate their own knowledge. The question is whether scientists and bodybuilders can find common ground.
