Returning to the earth
Body composting gaining popularity
LAFAYETTE, Colo. — In a suburban Denver warehouse tucked between an auto repair shop and a computer recycling business, Seth Viddal is dealing with life and death.
He and one of his employees have built a “vessel” they hope will usher in a more environmentally friendly era of mortuary science that includes the natural organic reduction of human remains, also known as body composting.
“It’s a natural process where the body is returned to an elemental level over a short period of time,” said Viddal, who likened the practice to backyard composting of food scraps and yard waste. “This is the same process but done with a human body inside of a vessel, and in our case, in a controlled environment.”
On Sept. 7, Colorado became the second state after Washington to allow human body composting. Oregon will allow the practice beginning next July. In Washington, the three businesses licensed to compost human remains have transformed at least 85 bodies since the law took effect in May 2020, and more than 900 people have signed up for the service.
Not everyone is on board, however. The Colorado Catholic Conference, a group of bishops aimed at molding public policy, opposed the bill, saying body composting “does not promote human dignity.” Some rabbis also are against body composting because they say it violates Jewish religious law.
Other opponents are concerned there is not enough research on whether the compost contaminates soil and there is no way to prevent people from using it in home vegetable gardens.
“We don’t know what they’re going to do with it if they take it all home,” said Stacey Kleinman, a board member of the Colorado Funeral Directors Association. They helped craft the legislation, but the group’s stance is neutral.
Viddal, who co-owns The Natural Funeral in Lafayette, lobbied the Colorado Legislature for the option and started building a prototype vessel in an industrial area soon after the bipartisan bill was signed into law.
Based on a design being used in Washington, the insulated wooden box is about 7 feet long, 3 feet wide and 3 feet deep, lined with waterproof roofing material and packed with wood chips and straw. Two large spool wheels on either end allow it to be rolled across the floor, providing the oxygenation, agitation and absorption required for a body to compost.
Viddal calls the process an “exciting ecological option,” and in death, he also sees life.
“Composting itself is a very living function and it’s performed by living organisms . ... There are billions of microbial, living things in our digestive tracts and just contained in our body. And when our one life ceases, the life of those microbes does not cease,” he said.
After about three months, the vessel is opened and the “soil” is filtered for medical devices such as prosthetics, pacemakers or joint replacements. The remaining large bones are then pulverized and returned to the vessel for another three months of composting. Teeth are removed to prevent contamination from mercury in fillings.
The vessel must reach 131 degrees for 72 continuous hours to kill any bacteria and pathogens. The high temperature occurs naturally during the breakdown of the body in an enclosed box.
In six months, the body, wood chips and straw will transform into enough soil to fill the bed of a pickup truck. Family members can keep the soil to spread in their yards, but Colorado law forbids selling it and using it commercially to grow food for human consumption, and it allows only licensed funeral homes and crematories to compost bodies.
“It accomplishes the conversion of the body back into a very beneficial substance — soil, earth,” said Viddal, who envisions building more than 50 body composting vessels.
The Natural Funeral charges $7,900 for body composting, compared with $2,200 for flame cremation, and Viddal notes that a traditional burial and service in the Denver area can run well
north of $10,000. The company has not composted any bodies, but several have signed up and paid for the service.
AJ Killeen, 40, of Boulder, has already expressed interest in having his body composted when he dies, even though he is relatively young.
After a car accident a couple years ago, a doctor discovered Killeen had a heart condition. That got Killeen thinking about what would happen to his body after he dies, and composting seemed like a natural fit.
“It’s what’s going to happen anyway, right? I mean, we’re all going to turn to dust, basically. So this is just a little more natural,” he said. “They’re going to control the humidity. They’re going to control the soil amendments and hopefully some worms and some mushrooms find a good home in me for a few months. And, you know, at the other end of it, I’ll be just a few bags of dirt.”
Killeen, who manages commercial real estate, said his concern for the environment played a large role in considering the option. Flame cremation burns fossil fuels that can contribute to climate change, and the process also releases toxic, mercury-laden fumes into the atmosphere. Traditional burial takes up space in a cemetery that will use additional resources to keep the plot constantly watered and mowed.
“I always joke that I hope I expire on trash day if that’s just easier for my family,” Killeen said.
He is among a growing number of people considering more natural funeral options,, and he thinks the option will become more accepted once people get over “the ick factor.”