Richard Godwin

I peeped into the unsettling world of Baby Tech: the companies who want your baby's data, the parents who are happy to outsource their anxiety, and the babies whose every breath is being tracked.

Inside the psychedelic renaissance... with Michael Pollan, Robin Carhartt-Harris and others

I investigated the hot new lifestyle trend: breathing.

I spoke to Aubrey de Grey of SENS, Samantha Payne of Open Bionics, Bryan Johnson of Kernel and other leading thinkers about what the future holds for the human form

I caught up w/ Zadie Smith in NYC to talk about her latest book Swing Time and pretty much everything in between. Oh and how Hillary would definitely win.

Britain is drinking less and less booze. How come?

...a theory.

The editors at the Evening Standard thought it would be fun to get me to eat what Donald Trump eats in a day, i.e. 12 Diet Cokes, 2 Filets-of-Fish, 2 Big Macs, 1 Chocolate milkshake. I did not find this fun.

On influencers, nano-influencers and how selling out became a way of life

How a hallucinogenic Amazonian brew became the It-drug of the tech elite

I interviewed Anna Friel about her new transgender drama Butterfly and the confidence that comes with turning 40

"One of the first things I discovered at the men’s group was that most men are scared of other men..." Masculinity is in crisis. Can a new men's movement help?

I talked to transhumanist libertarian Zoltan Istvan about his ambitions to become governor for California on a platform of universal basic income, genetic enhancement and, hopefully, immortality.

Poor Tracey Emin is feeling the worse for wear. Within a few minutes of turning up at her studio, Britain’s most celebrated female artist tells me to ‘expect monosyllables’. Then she disappears into an attic room — and I’m pretty sure I can hear weeping through the door. When I summon up the courage to enter, I am greeted by a contemporary update of her seminal work My Bed (1998), remade as a tableau vivant, with Emin reclining at the centre of it, in a pool of white light. ‘Pull up a chair, ...

Written in a motel in Monterey, California, within a couple of hours of learning of my hero's death