An Urban Solution For Ecological Death Care: Recompose's Founder and CEO Katrina Spade on Developing a New Idea, Finding Experts, and Creating Change
Katrina Spade by Craig Willse
By Patrick Dimond
Katrina Spade is the founder and CEO of Recompose, a public benefit corporation leading the transformation of the funeral industry. Katrina is a designer and the inventor of a system that transforms the dead into soil (aka human composting).
Since its founding in 2017, Katrina and Recompose have led the successful legalization of human composting in Washington State in 2019. Recompose became the first company in the world to offer the service in December 2020. The process is now also legal in Oregon, Colorado, Vermont, California., and New York.
Katrina and her team have been featured in Fast Company, NPR, the Atlantic, BBC, Harper’s Magazine, and the New York Times. She is an Echoing Green Fellow, an Ashoka Fellow, and a Harvard Kennedy School Visiting Social Innovator. In her interview with Patrick Dimond, Katrina talks about making her architectural school thesis into a business and the parallels between architects and entrepreneurs, advising those just starting their careers to approach daunting tasks by breaking them down into steps.
PD: Tell me about your foundational years. Where did you grow up, and what did you like to do as a kid?
KS: I like foundational years — that's a good description. I grew up in rural New Hampshire, and I played a lot outdoors. I had two parents who worked in medicine; our family had extensive gardens and livestock. We had a few cows, and my family would compost extensively. I remember I grew up thinking it was a bit of a chore, but understanding the importance of those systems for biodegradable material. And also, because my parents were in medicine, I was conscious of mortality. They talked about patients dying in a pretty matter-of-fact way. All of that together led me down this path.
Recompose Cycle Infographic.
View of an array of composting vessels at Recompose Seattle. Photo by Mat Hayward/Getty Images for Recompose.
The Recompose Team.
After Haverford College, you attended architecture school and wrote your thesis entitled "A Place for the Urban Dead." Tell me more about that project and what happened after it.
I began that project purely as a design exercise and a personal exploration. For those who have attended architecture school, they'll know this well, there is no business plan behind a project. There was no budget and no expectation that it would be real, which was such a luxury to think that way. So I got to think about the architectural systems that humans create.
I became obsessed with the funeral industry in the United States and again, having the luxury of approaching it from a design perspective. None of my professors at UMass Amherst ever said, “Well, how could this exist?” Or that it’s impossible, or that it would be too expensive. I'm eternally grateful to them for that experience.
I graduated in 2013, and "A Place for the Urban Dead" was a building in which humans would be composted, and we would celebrate and have a ritual around the death of our loved ones. I remember presenting my thesis to my professors and peers, and there was some laughter because there's some funny stuff about it [laughs]. But in general, the reaction was, “This sounds like a great idea.” So that sense of people wanting this to exist has continued to build over the last 10-plus years, and it has propelled Recompose into reality.
What made you begin to consider your own mortality? How does the built environment tie into that? Is it the ritual or the circulation of the ritual that's important to you?
I had turned thirty, and I was a slightly older student [laughs]. It was when I turned thirty that I was suddenly struck by my mortality [laughs]. I also had two young kids, which is a special thing about UMass Amherst's design program. Students could be a little older – to be a parent, go through the program, and not have to do all-nighters. I respect the administration for setting up the program that way because I had young kids, and I was constantly aware of them growing up, paralleling another observation of my aging.
During that time, I began to wonder what I would want for my body when I died. I immediately knew I didn't want to be cremated, and I didn't want to be buried conventionally with a casket and a concrete box and embalming.
I began researching natural burials, which are practiced worldwide and have been for millennia but aren't practiced very much in the United States except with certain faith traditions like Islam and Judaism. It's growing in popularity, but it's still a low percentage of people who take that option. I ended up loving this practice. It's about placing your body into the ground and letting nature take it back. And yet I love living in my cities. I'll always be an urban dweller, but it occurred to me that you would have to leave the city after you died to be buried in a natural setting. The Urban Death Project, and then Recompose, were a response to the question, “What's the urban solution for ecological funeral practices?”
“...we’re not attempting to hide what we’re doing. It’s about pulling out the essence of soil, the essence of nature, and reminding us, first and foremost, that we can give back to the environment, even after we die.”
Can you expand on that?
Natural burial is almost a perfect system. A body is placed in the ground with a simple shroud or maybe in a pine box, and then nature takes over. But of course, this takes time to do so, it takes land to bury someone, and in the cities, we don't have that land to allow for that regenerative process.
There must be a way to have that return to the earth that could exist in an urban setting for the billions of us who live in cities. As I was researching all of this, my friend called me on the phone. She knew I was looking at death care, understood I was always composting, and asked if I knew about the practice where farmers compost entire cows and horses. This was an epiphany moment. I realized that if you can do that with a horse or a cow, you can certainly compost a human. Composting happens in a vessel that can be reused, the system is more scalable than a burial, which in turn is an urban solution for ecological death care.
That's brilliant. Also, there is something romantic about the ritual of death. These rituals are so ancient, and different religions do it differently, and other people do it differently.
It's interesting because I compare Recompose to burial a lot, but we're not burial. Human composting is more like cremation because you're placing a body into a vessel and then applying a process that redesigns the molecular structure, and in both cases, it's heated. In the case of cremation, it is heat, from the burning of natural gas, that results in ashes. However, with composting, the microbes create heat and you're left with a regenerative soil.
You've been working with Olson Kundig for your new facility. How does it feel to be a client with a design pedigree? Has it been an incredibly collaborative experience?
When I moved to Seattle after grad school, I was like, Olson Kundig is the best firm [laughs], and I don't know if I had a chance of ever working for them. Luckily, I didn't have to find out because I got to work with them on this project. It has been a total dream, and I've been working with them on different iterations of this project over the year. They started by offering us space and guidance in our early prototyping days. I love being a client. I think only some firms would have the patience for me, but they do.
Guests place wood chips and straw on a shrouded mannequin near the Threshold Vessel in Recompose's Gathering Space at Recompose Seattle on October 06, 2022, in Seattle, Washington. Straw and wood chips are used in the human composting process. Photo by Mat Hayward/Getty Images for Recompose.
Morgan Yarborough, Services Manager at Recompose Seattle, stands near the Threshold Vessel and leads a ceremony in the Gathering Space at Recompose Seattle on October 06, 2022, in Seattle, Washington. Photo by Mat Hayward/Getty Images for Recompose.
Guests place flowers on a shrouded mannequin near the Threshold Vessel in Recompose's Gathering Space at Recompose Seattle on October 06, 2022. Photo by Mat Hayward/Getty Images for Recompose.
Katrina Spade stands in front of an array of composting vessels holding a box of soil that was once a human at Recompose Seattle on October 06, 2022, in Seattle, Washington. Photo by Mat Hayward/Getty Images for Recompose.
How has your work evolved? You founded the Urban Death Project, which you touched on in 2014, and then Recompose. I imagine your outlook on design has changed as you've grown into this more entrepreneurial role.
Someone once told me that being an architect is about figuring out what you don't know and then going to find the experts to help you get where you need to go. When you're an architect, you oversee the whole vision of the building and ensure that the small details are being considered. Whether it's structural engineering or mechanical design, the architect is not typically engrossed in that work. However, they find the right people who can distill their vision, see what they're trying to do, and make it happen.
There are parallels between being an architect and being an entrepreneur. I know nothing about funeral law, so I need to find that person and, oh my goodness, what a great feeling. Now we've been working together for ten years. Or knowing that I'm not a biologist or a scientist, but who do I need to find to help move this forward? It's been a matter of finding the right people, and now as I build this amazing staff, it's the same thing. It's finding the people that can help make it work.
When I see that Recompose has moved the needle with legislation, I am elated. It's the best of what an architecture degree can do for society. Not only have you created this business, but you're also exploring territories that need an architecture vision.
When I was studying funerary architecture, I was reading about how funeral homes came about due to the Civil War. Union soldiers needed a way to move bodies from the South to the North, and they needed a way to preserve them.
The industry has been dynamic because of what has been at the vanguard of culture. It's dynamic because of what is happening right now, which is so pertinent to architecture. What do you think is the future of funerary practices and burials?
I'm beginning to understand that, at least for the US funeral industry, there's been a long history of people not loving their experience when they go to a funeral home. There's so much displeasure that comes with the experience of the design of it, the emotional experience of it. I don't believe that it's because it's death. After all, I've had incredibly informative experiences around death.
I want people to separate grief from the funeral experience because they are not the same thing. There is an entire industry that the public must take part in at some point and usually more than once in their life. No one is thrilled about what it's bringing to them.
I was fortunate to come into the industry when public awareness of this dissatisfaction existed. Not only has Recompose shed light on the unsustainable nature of the industry and proposed a more sustainable alternative, but we have illustrated that there is a new way to experience the death of a loved one that doesn't feel like a traditional funeral home.
“Approach daunting tasks by breaking them down into steps. Don’t overthink it. It comes down to waking up each morning and getting to it, and it’s about an absolute consistency of vision.”
What is on your mind most of the moment?
I continue to have days when I'm stressed. There's no question. My girlfriend always reminds me that I have those moments; however, I could not imagine a job I'm better suited for. I love the amount of design involved in my day to day and that while building something, like a company or a movement, I have been able to approach challenges through the lens of design. I think about how the public experiences our website and the copy on our homepage. Plenty of people start companies and do amazing things without having a design mindset, but I don't know how to do it any other way.
I am familiar with Civilization, which I know had a hand in the Recompose website, and I love their work. Design makes the topic palatable.
No, and you're so right. Even thinking about the legislation, I realized early on that legislators are people too [laughs]. So when approaching a lawmaker, we ensure that they know we're not just talking about composting people's bodies. A lot more goes with it, and it's a conversation about how design can elevate the experience and be sustainable. We intentionally choose how we speak about what we're doing, and that's how we were able to legalize a process that makes people feel squeamish.
And not everyone needs it to feel softened through design, but why wouldn't you? The other thing is, and I don't think you're implying this, but we're not attempting to hide what we're doing. It's about pulling out the essence of soil, the essence of nature, and reminding us, first and foremost, that we can give back to the environment, even after we die.
Looking back, what has been the most significant challenge, and how did you manage through a disappointment or perceived setback?
I have a convenient type of memory for this work, which is that I forget a lot immediately. It's handy because if you have a bunch of setbacks weighing on you but you also have a terrible memory, it's easier to keep moving forward. For example, one of the hardest things was when we did a pilot to prove that our process was safe. Back in 2018, we did a pilot with Washington State University, and the university, rightfully so, made us jump through so many hoops. There was so much red tape and bureaucracy.
To create a study where we would be accepting donated deceased bodies, it made sense that they went and created an ethics committee so that we would have to jump through these hoops. However, the process to get it approved took months. Similarly, no one would be surprised to hear that the permitting process for our first facility took way longer than we had hoped. Waiting for governmental bureaucracies is extremely difficult for me. So, if I can't move forward, it's just painful, you know?
The Recompose Seattle facility. Photo by Mat Hayward/Getty Images for Recompose.
Katrina in front of the company's Seattle facility holding a box of soil that was once a human at Recompose Seattle. Photo by Mat Hayward/Getty Images for Recompose.
What are you most excited about right now?
We are just teeing up for a community round, a type of fundraising where anyone can invest, and the minimum is a thousand dollars. It sounds like a Kickstarter, except you're getting equity. For people who want to invest in the company, we will be launching that in a couple of weeks, and I think it'll be so fun because we have a vast community that has been contributing to the energy that has made the project a reality.
Who are you admiring right now?
All my coworkers, which goes back to bringing on people whose skills don't match my own and who often surprise me when I hire them. My favorite thing is hiring someone for a role that fits the qualifications but then being surprised by all the other value and thoughtfulness they bring to their work.
What is the impact you would like to have on the world?
To keep building this idea makes me very satisfied. I'll be happy if I can keep cracking open people's assumptions about what a death process needs to be and continue to encourage people to re-look at incorporating rituals into their death care practices.
What advice do you have for those starting their career?
Approach daunting tasks by breaking them down into steps. Don't overthink it. [laughs]. It comes down to waking up each morning and getting to it, and it's about an absolute consistency of vision. If you want to do something, wake up every morning, work towards it, and you will get pretty far. Be okay with not knowing something, see that as a strength, and know someone in the world can help you figure it out.