Reverse Archaeology
In-vitro meat of the future
A product designer and a genetic engineer login to a Zoom meeting. They both teach Design Futuring at University of Technology Sydney. They realise they have both been designing in the context of in-vitro meat and ‘the future’. They decide to have a chat…
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So, Sam, tell me about your deep dive into your imagined future of in-vitro meat!
Sam: The two speculations — Syntex Caro, a domestic in-vitro meat appliance, and the Darwin Lab Co., an exotic meat culture retailer — were the results of my Honours research which I completed in 2019 at University of Technology Sydney. This was a project in which I explored the role of product design within speculative practice through the context of imagining futures of in-vitro meat technologies.
I was (and still am) interested in the space of food sustainability in general, and lab-grown meat at the time (2019) was having a bit of a moment in the media. Speculative and critical design was born from manifesting technological critique through design, so this felt like a good opportunity for me to explore the space. However, I did not set out to explore the technology itself; but rather the potential future social practices surrounding meat production and consumption as a result of the proliferation of the technology.
Jestin: My first reaction to seeing the domestic appliance, Syntex Caro, was to analyse it from a scientific feasibility standpoint. Seeing the cell culturing practices I’m so familiar with (in the lab) be recontextualised into a domestic setting really draws me in. So immediately and without intention I find myself wondering, “Why is the culturing chamber so small, why is the inoculum clear blue and what is going on hidden inside?”
So, I was wondering, did you consult any scientists in the in-vitro meat space?
Sam: I did not, and this was because of the intention to not be technologically focused. It didn’t matter whether it looked scientifically feasible for two reasons. One, it was set in a speculative future in which the technology had evolved to a state where it was developed into a domestic appliance, and two, the ambiguity of the artefact itself was deliberate as to provoke intrigue.
My aim was to invite reflection and responses to a future where this technology was available in one’s own home. Refining the technological aspects would have led to technological discussions, which was not the point. It was designed to look just plausible enough as something potentially functional as a home appliance to raise questions around food making and eating practices.
I am therefore not proposing that this appliance be available in the near future, and as such, should not be viewed with such a critical technical lens.
Jestin: That’s a really useful insight as to why you chose to not consult technologists. It’s especially interesting when I reflect on the fact that ‘technological inaccurancies’ (for lack of a better word) in diegetic prototypes are essentially the main sticking point for scientists. This is where a lot of them/us stop being open to speculation. Like: “Ok, I’m willing to go down this rabbit whole of ‘what if…’ with you, but we need to be getting the technical details right, otherwise why are we even bothering”?
With my design hat on, I am also realising that there might be a bias within speculative design practices about who’s disbelief we do (and don’t) want to suspend. To me, it is becoming apparent that we are only interested in suspending the disbelief of other designers and the public. The scientists and developers of emerging technologies seem to be left behind.
I wonder if this is because scientists are seen as a monolith of proponents of radical and disruptive technologies and not as say: mothers, community members, people with spirituality, for example?
Sam: This is why futuring is such an interesting space, but I do recognise that it can also be quite challenging. There’s a lot to think about when it comes to intended audiences for speculations. In my work, I was trying to raise questions around shifting practices in how we produce and consume meat in the future. This was aimed at inviting people to view the appliance from the perspective of an everyday consumer of food, who would potentially have the technology available in their homes one day. This of course includes scientists, but the work was not intended as a provocation for scientists to think about how they could feasibly miniaturise the technology to the point where it could be domesticated. The focus was to speculate about how technology could impact our daily practices, which is where designers tend to think.
Scientists and engineers seem to be so preoccupied with technology itself that they often don’t think through the possibilities of its implementation.
Jestin: I wonder, then, if there’s a way to meet the scientists in the middle? For example, for me personally, there are only a few minor tweaks I’d want to see to have my belief suspended in the Syntex Caro product. It would be interesting to know if those tweaks would be enough to satisfy a wide range of biotechnology experts or not… On the one hand, I feel like it would be a massive help. On the other hand, I am reminded that as a trained biotechnologist, my mind is always searching for the flaws or errors in a technological proposition. And we don’t want to discourage this reflex in scientists, because it’s one of the hallmarks of good scientific practice.
Falsifying hypotheses is the bedrock of scientific enquiry. But I wonder, where does that then leave us?
Sam: This where the subjective nuances of audience perception comes into play, and how a designer might balance that. For an everyday person (so, not a scientist) the appliance was sufficiently realistic. In all the conversations with people who viewed the work, none of them questioned the size of the tank, or the colour or clarity of the test tube’s contents.
And this was a key part of the aesthetic considerations built into the design; to balance the familiarity of a household item with the strangeness of a scientific apparatus. Domestic appliances conceal the majority of the technological inner workings, leaving only the interface that people engage with. Microwaves are a great example of this, and is where I got the inspiration for the viewing window on the Syntex Caro.
I would love to know what kinds of tweaks you are thinking of, but again, the point was to not be having conversations of this kind, as it detracts from thinking about how this appliance would change the way you prepare dinner.
Jestin: So I guess we need to find this this sweet spot, this middle ground between hiding enough of the technological features so that the scientists don’t get tripped up; but revealing enough of that detail so as to activate the imaginations of a lay audience.
Sam: Yes, that’s exactly it! The domestic aesthetic of the Syntex Caro was designed to look everyday enough that you could picture it sitting on your kitchen countertop, yet scientific enough to draw your intrigue as to what this device may be, prompting that speculative response.
You’ve already made it clear why you didn’t need to seek out a collaboration with the technologists, but I am still curious about what might happen if you did! Say, Vow Food?
Sam: By the time I learnt about Vow Food, the local Australian in-vitro meat company, my designs were essentially finished. I had considered approaching them, but decided that it wouldn’t have made a difference to the work whether or not there was a scientific partner.
In my Honours, if I had wanted to, I probably could have pushed for a collaboration across disciplines, but this would have then been down to who I could have reached out to. Potentially Vow. Perhaps that was a missed opportunity. As I was also quite new to the space of speculative design, I admittedly didn’t feel very confident reaching out to industry.
But now at a PhD level, more confident in my knowledge and ability, I am actively looking for those opportunities, particularly in industry beyond academia. One of the greatest critiques of design futuring is that it is too often just designers talking to designers.
Jestin: Haha, and the same with scientists just talking to scientists! When you talked about not feeling confident reaching out to industry, it also makes me wonder about the resistance to collaborate across design and science as a student researcher, perhaps because of the lack of discipline-specific convictions (i.e., intellectual armour) and a safe space for doing so…?
Sam: Design has always been a very transdisciplinary practice. It has always drawn from many different areas and in my undergraduate degree, we were always pushed to engage with other disciplines. This, admittedly, from my experience, was largely still between different design disciplines as opposed to other faculties. I can’t speak on behalf of science, but from what I’ve heard, my sense is that there are fewer safe and supported spaces for such work.
Jestin: I’m not surprised that you’ve heard that. I think something that we need to be aware of is that when you’re researching something as a genetic engineer or synthetic biologist — be that in-vitro meat or vaccines or bioplastics or funky new enzymes or plants adapted to grow on Mars — you must stick your neck out; you must put your name on it, so to speak. You’ve gotta be willing to justify the technologies positive impact on society and show awareness of the risks with some management strategies in place.
This is something that is very different to the culture within speculative design practices. And so naturally, misunderstandings and conflicts will occur. These create a breeding ground for less intellectually and creatively safe spaces to speculate within; both for the scientists themselves and creative practitioners like designers. Power dynamics will (and do) play out. For example, the scientists often think they/we have the upper hand because they/we “are the ones who actually understand how the tech works”. I’ve seen this time and time again… Scientists say, “That’s not how it works,” or, “That would never work,” to designers, with a sense of total authority. And yet, scientists have no training in how to actually explore the sociotechnical realities of their/our work.
Sam: I have similar feelings about that with these speculations. I did not intend to make any personal claims about the technology, despite producing the work. In presenting these speculations, I am not advocating for domesticating in-vitro meat, nor eating exotic and endangered animals. I am interested in the implications of the technology and am using my design skills as a way to invite others into the conversation. They are thought experiments, extrapolating from the technology and associated practices.
For example, in the Darwin Lab Co., I specifically chose animals such as the whale, as it represents existing discourse about the consumption of particular meats in different cultures. There is already much debate about this, but the introduction of in-vitro technology raises more… It also changes the questions that could be — and should be — asked.
I can’t speak on behalf of how scientists, engineers, and technologists approach their work, but yes, it does seem that there’s this lack of exploring socio-cultural dimensions. And this is where collaborations across disciplines is most valuable; approaching topics from different perspectives and identifying blindspots.
Jestin: For sure. I guess this all culminates in the questions you raised in your talk about:
“How do we choose an appropriately representative diegetic prototype? And how does that choice influence the futuring practice?”
Sam: That was one of the further questions that was raised at the end of my research and one that I have been trying to reflect on as I look back on the project. There is a close relationship between the provocations being raised, the diegetic prototypes chosen and how this shapes people’s interaction with the work.
There are so many possibilities of the future that could be speculated upon and as such, we need to be very considerate in what things we are thinking about, asking questions about, and how we choose to present them via diegetic prototype.
One key consideration for diegetic prototypes is, how well does it serve as a representation of the speculation? How easily does it facilitate a suspension of disbelief when someone looks at it and is asked to imagine it as a real object from the future? Does it appropriately match what it is you are trying to get people to think about?
The Syntex Caro was intended to get people to think about what would happen if we could grow meat in our own homes. This could have been represented in many different ways. Rather than making an appliance, I could have perhaps created an advertisement for it instead. This would have presented a whole different framing for the viewer. I suspect it would result in more thinking about how desirable the technology is to own, as advertisements are about presenting things as desirable objects for purchase. Instead, by presenting the speculation as a physical appliance — one that you can literally place on your kitchen counter — this shifts the thinking towards how things might change for you when you already own the device.
You’ve mentioned “inviting others into the conversation” a few times. What do you mean, specifically?
Sam: The aim of speculative and discursive design is to provoke and encourage intellectual reflection. A big part of my research approach was to co-create speculations; inviting other people to explore the future for themselves, as opposed to it just being me producing the work. I did this by running futures workshops.
The whole idea was that everyone who engages with the work brings with them their own worldviews and experiences, responding to future speculation in unique ways. The dialogue about the future then expands when they produce their own design fictions, supported by my expertise as a designer to help materialise the diegetic prototypes.
So beyond the Syntex Caro and Darwin Lab Co., there were many different prompts and provocations raised by others during the futures workshops. These could all then be further refined into more design artefacts to extend the conversations and invite more engagement. Everyone brings with them a different perspective and it’s important that it’s not just designers or scientists who can have a say in things that could drastically change the future — for instance with in-vitro meat.
And why in-vitro meat? What motivates you to do design research in this space?
Sam: To be honest, the motivation for my Honours research was more about the design practice than it was in-vitro meat. I was interested in exploring product design knowledge and skills within speculative design. In-vitro meat was simply the topic in which I conducted this; I could have picked almost anything to speculate about.
But I am also particularly interested in food sustainability and this is a technology that was proposed as a potentially sustainable alternative to conventional meat. I am highly wary of technocratic solutionism and by presenting these speculations, the aim was to tease out potential implications and invite people to reflect critically, as opposed to being overly optimistic about the technology.
The domestic availability of in-vitro meat would plausibly have a huge impact on both the production and consumption of meat; the way we prepare and cook meat and all the related practices. One really interesting discussion point raised in one of the workshops was the significance of meat as a centerpiece in many cultural traditions, such as lamb on Australia (Invasion) Day or turkeys at Thanksgiving. All of these significant events come with significant meat consumption and thus, significant environmental impact. But is this something that in-vitro meat producers have thought about?
We’ve already seen backlash from meat-lovers against replacing ‘real’ meat, so how might groups respond when it starts to affect culturally significant practices?
What I was trying to do was to ask the questions that technologists weren’t asking, and invite others to ask their own.
These questions probably would, or should, be directed towards places like Vow, but in the context of my Honours research, there was no targeted or strategic intent. I was simply exploring a new space of design that interested me and that I felt, and still feel, has great potential in sustainability transitions — something that I am continuing with in my PhD research.
Do you think collaborating with a company like Vow would be seen as you actively condoning in-vitro meat?
Sam: I personally am still in half a mind about the technology, and that’s the point of this project; to present this as a catalyst for discussion, and to tease out further questions and concerns about the future. Had I partnered with Vow, it would still come down to how the project/partnership would have been framed and presented. A partnership would not necessarily be a sign of approval for domesticating the tech, or that Vow was working towards this future, but it could very easily be misconstrued as such.
The future should not be left to just designers, or just scientists. It requires all of us to work together, to think together and to act together.
