Bad Blood

📚 Reviewed by someone who now triple-checks her lab results

This is the story of how a billionaire CEO with a Steve Jobs cosplay complex almost convinced the world she could run hundreds of medical tests from a single drop of blood. No needles. No labs. No waiting. Just a sleek little box the size of a toaster, solving healthcare for everyone.

Investors lost their minds. Walgreens said “sure, what could go wrong?” The media crowned her queen of disruption.

Bad Blood is the true account of Elizabeth Holmes and her company, Theranos — once the most hyped startup in Silicon Valley. The pitch was revolutionary. The problem was that the technology didn’t work. At all. The science didn’t exist. But the branding was immaculate.

The company was valued at $9 billion. It had a board filled with generals, secretaries of state, and former senators — none of whom had a background in science. Investors poured in hundreds of millions. The media adored her. The black turtleneck helped.

Elizabeth Holmes was sold to the public as the next Steve Jobs. And she leaned into it hard. Deep voice. Intense eye contact. A wardrobe that said, “I’ve studied at the altar of Cupertino.” What she lacked in technical competence, she made up for in theater.

Bad Blood is the book that blew the lid off it all. Written by Wall Street Journal reporter John Carreyrou — who somehow kept his cool while being threatened by Theranos’ lawyers.

And then there’s Erika Cheung and Tyler Shultz — the whistleblowers who risked everything to speak up. Erika’s TED Talk is worth watching. I admire people like her — people who still believe truth matters more than loyalty. Who choose the harder path when it would be easier to stay quiet.

This book reads like a thriller, but it’s nonfiction. That’s the most disturbing part. The facts are outrageous enough on their own. Lab data was faked. Employees were spied on. Sick patients were given false test results while executives posed for Forbes. The internal culture was so toxic it made WeWork look like summer camp.

You know what’s worse than failing? Lying while people bleed.

Entrepreneurs like Holmes aren’t visionaries. They’re dangerous.

They don’t build. They bluff. And when they get caught, they don’t apologize — they pivot into documentaries, redemption arcs, and “lessons learned” keynote speeches.

The real damage isn’t just the billions lost. It’s the credibility of science. The harm to patients. And the erosion of trust in real founders (especially women) who don’t need a costume to lead.

I also watched the adaptations: The Dropout (created by Elizabeth Meriwether)

There’s a scene that stuck with me. At one point in The Dropout, Elizabeth Holmes’ college professor looks her dead in the eye and says:

“When this becomes a scandal… what do you think happens to all the other women who want to start companies?

Who do they go to?

Who’s going to trust them?

Because it’s not just you.

It’s never just you.”

It broke my heart. Because she was right.

Yes, Elizabeth Holmes did real damage. But what’s worse is watching the fallout used to quietly suggest that this is what happens when women lead. As if one fraud becomes a stand-in for the rest of us.

As if men haven't been torching billions with half-baked ideas since the dawn of venture capital.

Let me be very clear: Elizabeth Holmes didn’t fail because she was a woman. She failed because she lacked ethics. That’s it. It wasn’t a flaw in her chromosomes — it was a flaw in her character.

And yet, the moment the Theranos ship sank, you could feel the narrative shift: "This is why we can't trust female CEOs." Convenient, isn't it?

So yes, I watched The Dropout. I saw how it dramatized that very dilemma — how a woman’s failure is never just her own. How the next generation of female founders now have to work twice as hard to be trusted, because Holmes decided that style mattered more than science.

It’s a cautionary tale — not just about fraud, but about belief. People wanted Theranos to be real. Investors, journalists, patients, even employees. The idea was so attractive that no one stopped to check if it was even possible. Or ethical. Or remotely safe.

Honestly, it should be required reading for every investor who funds charisma like it’s a measurable asset. You’ll finish this book asking how so many smart people got it so wrong — and maybe quietly wonder how often it’s still happening.

The next time you hear someone pitch a “disruptive” product with zero data, an AI-powered buzzword, and a logo made in Canva, ask questions. Demand data. And if they start quoting Steve Jobs, close the tab.