Human compost

Note: This is a post about death that includes humorous remarks (I was this close to making a very silly pun). It also includes musings on one of the more cynical business ideas of our time.

While I sit at my desk writing this, kitchen scraps are gently decomposing in our compost pits. Thanks to our healthy diets and the fact that Some People Buy More Apples Than They Can Eat we are going to have great compost output for this year’s growing season. But, I have learned, we could do much better if only one of us kicks the bucket.

Did you know that a body decomposing in a special environment featuring wood chips and suchlike can yield “as much as 1,000 pounds of soil”? You probably didn’t unless, like me, you read this article from the Wall Street Journal espousing the benefits of what advocates call “natural organic reduction”, known to normal people as decomposition.

Essentially, and it would surprise no one here, “natural organic reduction” amounts to letting nature take its course but in “a sealed vessel bedded with clover, hay and straw and equipped to regulate airflow, temperature and moisture.” Apparently, nature cannot be trusted to do what it does best without a controlled environment.

But I’m being unfair. “Natural organic reduction” peddlers actually want to do good, namely, reduce strain on graveyards by letting you decompose in luxury and then grinding your bones to add to the “compost” produced from your decomposition and when I say you and your, I mean an impersonal pronoun, of course. I wish all of you a long and healthy life. In addition to the good they want to do, the NOR peddlers also want to make some money. After all, why should only regular funeral homes and crematoriums benefit from death (by providing mostly essential services, I might add)?

So, we get entities such as Meine Erde in Germany (Anyone surprised? Course not.) and Recompose in the United States. Both, along with their competitors, make a strong case — in their own eyes. I think they are laying it a bit too thick.

From Recompose’s website: “For every person who chooses Recompose over conventional burial or cremation, one metric ton of carbon pollution is prevented. In addition, our approach to human composting uses 87% less energy than conventional burial or cremation. Recompose allows you to choose an end-of-life option that strengthens the environment rather than depleting it.”

From the WSJ article: “Meine Erde charges the equivalent of about $5,000, about twice the price of a simple cremation. The company lays the deceased in a coffin-like container it calls a cocoon. The container is sealed tight, aerated and slowly rocked for 40 days. “You are sleeping in a cradle at the beginning of your life,” Metz said, and, likewise, “at your very end.”” I think this is adorable. I’m just not sure how the rocking is effected and whether it involves the use of any electricity at all.

From an Ohio senator who introduced a human composting bill to the local legislature: “This is considered a very green option, you’ll have folks talk about how they want to become a tree, so in other words, like the bag of compost, which is like a cubic yard of compost, is put under, you know, under a tree for example, and that’s where you’ll remain. And I think a lot of people like that option, that it’s green, organic, and something they have a spiritual tie to.” Do you know anyone who wants to become a tree? Neither do I, but to each their own.

The price for human composting is lower than traditional (American) burial but higher than cremation, we learn from the WSJ article. Naturally, funeral homes view the “green” alternative as a threat to their business but it’s not just them that have misgivings. In fact, “natural organic reduction” is only legal in one German province — and a crematorium successfully sued Meine Erde for falsely claiming the practice is environmentally friendly. Chuckle at will.

“German scientists warned that pathogens from infected corpses or the metallic remains of implants could be released into the ground. Gases from the composting process also could cause air pollution, and graveyard workers might be harmed, according to the three scientists, including two with ties to the Institute for Forensic Medicine at the University Medical Center Hamburg-Eppendorf,” the WSJ tells us. Try as hard as some people might, those emissions are simply everywhere!

The most interesting aspect of the whole thing, of course, is what happens to the compost after the “reduction” process is completed. This aspect is strangely not examined in as much detail in the WSJ’s otherwise very detailed report. Recompose says that “We partner with nonprofit conservation organizations so clients can donate soil to restore and revitalize protected areas where vital environmental repair is needed.” This is very noble and sustainable, no argument about that. Incidentally, the compost could also be sold (not that anyone’s mentioning the possibility) — or used for the composters’ own needs.

From the WSJ article again: “Green-Wood’s plan is to use the nutrient-rich material to nurture trees, meadows and the bottom line. “It’s a way to integrate revenue generation with ecological regeneration,” said Joseph Charap, vice president of horticulture at Green-Wood [Cemetery].” Elegant, no?

And from the Recompose website again: “Cremation burns fossil fuels and emits carbon dioxide and particulates into the atmosphere. Conventional burial consumes valuable urban land, pollutes the soil, and contributes to climate change through the resource-intensive manufacture and transport of caskets, headstones, and grave liners.” Guilt-tripping at its almost finest. After all, who cares about visiting a loved one’s last resting place when you can have an AI-generated version of them teach your kids how to make pie, right?

There are even things called griefbots, which do exactly what you suspect they do: give people the opportunity to communicate with their dearly departed, sorry, naturally organically reduced, because Black Mirror was apparently not clear enough on the intersection* of grief and artificial intelligence, and the dangers thereof. Makes you wonder whatever human ingenuity would come up with next — and shiver a bit. Off to mix my non-human compost now, I’ve got big tomato plans.

*This is the first time I’ve used the word in all seriousness. Oh, happy day.