We should consider composting humans
An alternative to modern funerary practices
“In the bulb, there is a flower
In the seed, an apple tree”
About ¼ of what we throw out in our homes is food scraps and garden waste. Instead of spending the time, energy, and resources to have this trash hauled off, it makes more sense for those with space to compost. Composting isn’t just for green thumbers. Anyone who appreciates efficiency or the environment can partake in a simple form of composting known as trench composting. Literally, you dig a hole and throw in your compost material. This method is perfect for someone less interested in creating nutrient-rich compost and more interested in extending the use time of their trash bags. Because the compost is buried, there’s less concern for odors and pests, so you can throw in reasonable amounts of meat and dairy you wouldn’t normally want to throw in your open-air compost pile.
And at this point in my life, that’s about as far as my interest in household composting went.
Then, I stumbled upon human composting.
Contemporary North American funerary practices (primarily embalmed burial and cremation) have a significant impact on the environment and worker’s health, not to mention the pocketbooks of the decedent’s family. A 2017 Vox report found that costs ranged from $1,400 for cremation to over $10,000 for the average embalmed burial. While crematories account for a small portion of CO2 emissions, mercury in blood and fillings reaches the atmosphere at nearly two tons per year. With modern burial, there are thousands of tons of steel, millions of tons of concrete, and millions of meters of wood used annually. And then there’s formaldehyde in embalming fluid, a respiratory and skin irritant as well as a possible carcinogen.
According to the National Funeral Directors Association (NFDA),
“…[formadehyde] enables families the opportunity to view the body of their loved one and say a final goodbye.”
It does this by slowing decomposition, killing bacteria to extend the life time with our deceased loved one.
The EPA is set to re-evaluate the toxicity of formaldehyde, a situation the NFDA has called “a vital tool under threat.” They even funded a study that found the average exposure to formaldehyde during an embalming to be 0.68 ppm, which falls just below OSHA standards for 8-hour exposure limits (0.75 ppm). However, their study only included 13 of the estimated 19,000 funeral homes in the US, a confidence of less than 30%. Most studies are designed such that they can reach a confidence level of 95% with their findings, something this study could have reached with a sample size of 377 funeral homes.
So what does this study tell us? Not much, with the accuracy of their findings so low. However, we can say, with a reported range of 0.058 to 1.4 ppm, at least one funeral home in the US is measuring formaldehyde exposure during embalming at levels greater than OSHA standards for 8-hour exposure limits (0.75 ppm).
While there are many environmental issues associated with contemporary funerary practices, what are the thoughts and feelings that come to mind when you hear “human composting?” I will admit, there is a tinge of irreverence to it. Thousands of years of spirituality and tradition make it clear that, to most people, a dead body is not just a lifeless husk. We attach our feelings for the person that once lived in the body to the body itself. The sight of their face lying peacefully in a casket spurs memories of a relationship relegated to the past. Dead people are people too, at least on this side of life. It makes sense, then, that we would want to say our “final goodbyes” to the body left behind.
Grief, as an extension of love, leaves us vulnerable. Within the depths of our sadness, we hone in on our relationship with the person we lost, eviscerated by the moment. But, in this way, grief allows us to connect with other people going through loss.
The Parsi people of India uphold the Zoroastrian funerary practice of excarnation, the exposure of a dead person’s body to the elements for decomposition. In place of a casket is a dakhma, a circular, raised structure also known as a tower of silence. Recognizing the ability of dead people to give life, it supports other living beings such as vultures while providing a level of disease mitigation.
How could we, in a modern American city, incorporate such an idea into our own concept of a more environmentally sustainable and respectful funerary practice? Will Devault-Weaver, in their thesis for their Master of Architecture, explores such a question. They emphasize a new understanding of death and the associated rituals to address the negative aspects of grief (which, I remind you, includes a significant monetary cost to the grieving family for the funeral home’s profit). They point to cultural practices such as the dakhma and Native American traditions, while also recognizing some of the practical limitations of human composting. Some proposed designs would have multiple dead people within the same chamber, which, while efficient, may sacrifice the dignity of an individualized decomposition method.
Already, in states that have approved human composting as a funerary practice, companies are springing up to fill this void. In their thesis, Devault-Weaver states that funeral homes will
“…need to find a replacement for the more lucrative service packages that people aren’t buying and which used to be the money makers for the funerary industry.”
Funerary industry money makers sound icky. You might also think that letting your loved one sit atop a tower and be picked apart by vultures is icky, or that bodies rolling around together in a composting chamber is. I think pumping embalming fluid into someone I knew and turning them into wax-figure-versions of themselves that will have a hard time decomposing is.
With the individualized experience of grief that surrounds death, many funerary practices could be made to seem offensive. But rather than hold fast to traditional practices propped up by the funeral industry, we should look towards a new architecture of death that values the environmental and social aspects of honoring dead people. one that allows nature to remember some of the parts that once made us.
And, in this way, death is not oblivion.
