Death: What can we do with our bodies?

"Where she's buried is in what was a field but has now been returned to woodland. She's allowed to have wild flowers as well as a tree, which denotes where she is, and a little slate plaque. It will be a woodland and that was part of mum's belief – returning the cycle of life from birth to death and around again."

Julia Lonnkvist's mother had a 'natural burial' – one of thousands which take place across the UK each year. Since the 1990s, the UK has led the natural burial movement as more and more people shun a traditional burial or cremation in favour of a more ecologically friendly send off. 

"My old dad used to say, 'When I'm gone, stick me at the bottom of the garden and plant an apple tree on top of me,'" says Rosie Inman-Cook. "While I was looking into the legality and feasibility of doing that, I came across the natural burial ground movement in the UK – and I set my own up."

She now manages both the Natural Death Centre charity and the Association of Natural Burial Grounds. But what exactly is a natural burial? Bodies are interred in the ground without being embalmed, in biodegradable coffins of wicker, willow, bamboo or cardboard – or even just a fabric shroud. 

Adding to the sense of returning to nature, the burial sites are usually in the beautiful countryside with which England abounds. As Inman-Cook explains, "You're in a lovely place, you're planting trees, you're creating a wildlife reserve and hopefully it will gain even more protection as more and more unusual species of flora and fauna move in."

The first natural burial ground was set up in 1993 by Ken West. A local authority cemetery manager in Carlisle in the north of England, he worried that traditional cemeteries were often wasteful and not helpful to the wildlife living in graveyards – and his idea quickly became very popular.

"We now have probably something like 350 natural woodland ecological green burial sites in the UK," says Douglas Davies, a Durham University professor who is also director of the university's Centre for Death and Life Studies. "This is a rapid piece of social change.

"This was not a government-down movement, this was a grassroots-up movement, before environmental, ecological drivers were really hitting the public world. I think it fits with British attitudes towards gardening, to birds, to trees, to the natural environment rather than the dry-as-dust cemeteries and churchyards."

Natural burial sites can be owned by local authorities, charities, funeral directors or landowners, and are largely unregulated, although Inman-Cook says it's not exactly a walk in the park to set one up: "You need planning permission for the change of use of your land to a green cemetery, you have to jump through various hoops – highways, archaeology, environment agency wanting to know that you're not going to pollute the groundwater with the products of decay" – but "we get a handful every year. The number is growing all the time."

It helps that the UK has what Davies calls a more relaxed approach to post-life arrangements. In Germany, for instance, ashes from cremations can be interred in woodland areas but natural burials aren't permitted. For centuries burials were the only option in Europe, before 'cremation by flame' was gradually accepted by church, state and public. 

However, in the last few decades the green movement has raised ethical concerns of a different kind over cremation. It requires energy-hungry temperatures of 750 degrees Celsius and releases high levels of carbon dioxide, along with toxic materials such as mercury in tooth fillings and plastics from implants. 

Traditional burials have their own environmental issues – embalming chemicals and coffins using non-biodegradable materials – and in many European countries a lack of cemetery space is a real concern. What Davies calls "the carbon footprint of death" is leading to a search for alternative methods.

Clearly there is a demand for ways to reduce the carbon footprint of death, and options are multiplying. In 2019, the northwestern U.S. state of Washington became the first place in the world to legalize natural organic reduction, in which microbes turn bodies into soil in around a month. 

"It's inspired by the process that takes place on the forest floor," explains Anna Swenson of Recompose, a Washington-based company offering organic reduction. "We just help it happen as fast as it possibly can, because we monitor levels of oxygen and moisture."

Recompose opened its first facility, The Greenhouse, in December 2020. "We have these stainless steel vessels, and we place each body inside a vessel with wood chips, alfalfa and straw," says Swenson. "And over 30 days, that body transforms into soil. It breaks down pharmaceuticals, it breaks down any chemotherapy that might be in the body at the time of death, even bones and teeth are transformed."

Those who have been recomposed frequently ask that their soil is used in family gardens, or around favored trees where their grandchildren play. Swenson notes that Washington's open-mindedness as a state – it was one of the first to legalize cannabis use, LGBT marriage and assisted suicide – may have helped the take-up: "There's a lot of scientists here, there's a lot of environmentalists, and people were really willing to put in the work to make this possible."

It's the environmental idea, says Swenson, which appeals to those who wish to reduce their carbon footprint after death: compared to conventional cremation or burial, every person who chooses this method "saves one metric tonne of carbon dioxide from entering the environment. A flame-based cremation is the equivalent of about 40 backyard propane containers that you might use for a barbecue.

"We have over 700 people who have chosen this for their future. So that starts to be 700-plus metric tonnes of carbon dioxide diverted. As this starts to expand, it really starts to be more impactful on climate change."

Not all eco-exits are futuristic. One that's happened for centuries is burial at sea. Off the UK coast are five designated sites, and John McKenzie's family business Burials at Sea reaches one from his base at Southampton on the south English coast. 

Despite the sadly inevitable nature of his work, McKenzie says it can be a good experience. "The burial which took place yesterday was one of the warmest days we've had in Britain for 65 years, a lovely calm sea, and was really a very happy occasion despite the circumstances of why people were there."

McKenzie takes the coffin and family members to the Needles Spoil Ground, off the Isle of Wight – "The coordinates we'ren give are about the size of 180 football pitches, so there's plenty of space for us to go to" – and says Alfred Lord Tennyson, a famous poet who lived on the island, often provides a suitable reading. 

"He wrote a poem called Crossing the Bar" – a memento mori comparing death to a voyage and containing the deathless line "may there be no sadness of farewell / When I embark." As McKenzie notes, "lots of people use this at the moment of committal because it's very poignant and it works really well."

Although the coffin, pre-drilled with holes, is also weighed down with concrete to ensure it sinks, McKenzie argues it's still comparatively eco-friendly compared to some land burials: "It's a simple softwood coffin not containing any plastics, lead, copper or zinc."

While cremated ashes can be scattered at sea in many places in Europe, sea burials are not usually permitted – meaning McKenzie's phone often rings from afar. "We've done burials at sea for two German families and had enquiries from the Netherlands and Spain," he says. "We also carried out a burial for a famous American crime writer – who featured a burial at sea in one of her books." 

Dealing with the dead has long been a central concern for humans, and ecological awareness has pushed us to look for different methods. While we might all regard some of the options as better than others, it's worth remembering that opinions can change, and our consideration of the eternal might well include the best options for those we're leaving behind.

"Back in the mid-20th century," recalls Rosie Inman-Cook, "the cremation industry had a slogan: Leave the Land for the Living – and that really hit a mark. The older generation now who choose cremation think they're making a socially responsible decision. 

"But that was before we realised about climate change, and pollution. It's not the socially responsible thing to do anymore."