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people are like me. So I wanted to make the choice for
those people easier, to be able to keep on eating meat
without all the negative externalities.”
Even as it sets out to change everything about meat
production, cellular agriculture, as the nascent industry
is called, will in theory change nothing about meat con-
sumption. This presents a tantalizing opportunity for in-
vestors, who have thrown nearly $1 billion at cultivated-
meat companies over the past six years. Participating in
the high- profile stampede to invest in the in-
dustry: Bill Gates, Richard Branson, Warren
Buffett and Leonardo DiCaprio. Plant-based
burger companies such as Impossible and Be-
yond already paved the way by proving that
the market wants meat alternatives. Cellular
agriculture promises to up that game, provid-
ing the exact same experience as meat, not a
pea- protein facsimile.
While private investment has been vital
for getting the industry off the ground, it is
not enough given the immense benefits that
the technology could provide the world were
it developed at large scale, says Friedrich of
the Good Food Institute. Cultivated- meat pro-
duction could have as much impact on the climate crisis
as solar power and wind energy, he argues. “Just like re-
newable energy and electric vehicles have been success-
ful because of government policies, we need the same
government support for cultivated meat.”
In the meantime, regulatory approval helps. In
December 2020, GOOD Meat, the cultivated- meat
division of California- based food- technology company
Eat Just Inc., was granted regulatory approval to sell
its chicken product to the public in Singapore, a global
first. Later that month, a tasting restaurant for cell-based
chicken produced by Israeli startup SuperMeat opened
in Israel. Cultivated meat could be a $25 billion global
industry by 2030, accounting for as much as 0.5% of the
global meat supply, according to a new report from con-
sulting firm McKinsey & Co. But to get there, many tech-
nological, economic and social hurdles must be tackled
before cultivated cutlets fully replace their predecessors
on supermarket shelves.When AustriAn food-trends analyst
Hanni Rützler appeared onstage to taste Mark
Post’s burger at its public debut in London,
on Aug. 5, 2013, her biggest fear was that it
might taste so bad she would spit it out on
the live video broadcast. But once the burger
started sizzling in the pan and the familiar
scent of browning meat hit her nose, she re-
laxed. “It was closer to the original than I
even expected,” she says. At the tasting, she
pronounced it “close to meat, but not that
juicy.” That was to be expected, says Mosa
co-founder, COO and food technologist Peter
Verstrate—the burger was 100% lean meat. And without
fat, burgers don’t work. In fact, without fat, he says, you’d
be hard-pressed to tell the difference between a piece
of beef and a cut of lamb. Fat isn’t necessarily harder to
create than muscle. It’s just that as with protein cells, get-
ting the process right is time- consuming, and Verstrate
and Post prioritized protein. The technology itself is rel-
atively straightforward and has been used for years in the
pharmaceutical industry to manufacture insulin fromA half-gramof cow musclecould create4.4 billion lb. ofbeef—more thanMexico’s yearlyconsumption