Meet Dr. Andrew Yun

I’m a hip and knee replacement surgeon, and I’ve spent more than two decades trying to get it exactly right.

My practice is focused, by design. I don’t do injections, trauma cases, or general orthopaedics. I’ve devoted my career to mastering a few things—and doing them extremely well. Every surgery I perform is planned with care, executed with precision, and supported by a team that’s been with me for nearly 20 years.

After years in private practice and hospital leadership at St. John’s in Santa Monica, I transitioned with my team to USC, where I now serve as Clinical Professor of Orthopaedic Surgery. I continue to perform every surgery myself. While I teach students at the Keck School of Medicine, my work in the operating room is always personal.

Over the years, I’ve trained at institutions like Stanford, Harvard, Princeton, and Pepperdine. I’ve also earned an MBA—not to become an administrator, but to understand how to build a better practice. It helped me refine how we care for patients: from reducing implant costs to optimizing surgical safety and streamlining recovery protocols.

What’s driven me most, though, is an intolerance for complications. When something goes wrong—even rarely—I take it personally. I analyze it from every angle, talk it through with my team, sometimes walk for miles with my wife just trying to make sense of it. That discomfort pushes me to refine, correct, and improve—again and again. Over time, it’s created a kind of self-correcting engine for how we care for people.

I’ve always believed great surgery requires more than technical skill. It takes discipline, clarity, and a long-term commitment to doing what’s right—even when it’s inconvenient. I’ve said no to a lot of consulting gigs, speaking invitations, and side projects so I could be fully present for my patients—and for my family. Ironically, those decisions didn’t slow my career. They sharpened it.

Teaching has become a source of inspiration in recent years. Students challenge me with their questions, push me with their work ethic, and remind me why I became a doctor 30 years ago. I’ve also found great joy in research—not abstract, academic work, but the kind that comes from real-world problems: failed implants, recovery hurdles, hard-to-solve cases. My best ideas have usually come from mistakes I’ve learned from.

Outside the OR, I find balance through yoga, long walks, and time with my wife and kids. I still think like a chemist sometimes—looking for the kinetics of healing, the equilibrium of recovery, the formula that turns discomfort into growth.

If you’re considering joint replacement, I look forward to learning about your goals and working together on a path forward.