A (Newer) Modest Proposal
By Dr. Schmosie Shmepps
It is a melancholy object to those who walk the streets of our great republic, or turn the channel to any reputable source of televised news, to see the countless numbers of citizens who, in spite of their vigor and splendid biological constitution, are forced by circumstance to dine on processed starches, dyed gelatinous rectangles, and such things that pass for protein only by the most generous standards. The children, lean and hollow, with bones full of brittle emptiness, cluster in the corners of school cafeterias and are sent home each weekend with sacks of federally approved beige. The adults likewise rely on drive-through establishments for their sustenance, where a hamburger may be procured for one dollar, but the meat is so abstracted from beast that its original form is lost to memory.
Our nation is not short of flesh, but of imagination.
I have therefore taken it upon myself, after a lengthy period of study and consultation with numerous experts in the fields of molecular gastronomy, tissue engineering, bioethics, and marketing, to put forth a most modest and reasonable proposal. It is this: that the impoverished and working poor, so long as they remain unable to secure nourishment by conventional means, ought to contribute small portions of their own tissue, that these might be cultivated into meat for public consumption.
I make no extreme demand. A single biopsy, extracted painlessly from the posterior or thigh by licensed technicians, yields sufficient cellular material to generate upwards of 500 grams of cultured protein in the first month alone. With modern techniques in bioreactor scaling and myogenic stimulation, this quantity may double by the second month. A modest tissue bank drawn from our nation’s most populous and underfed districts could thus produce many tons of lean meat each year.
There is little novelty in consuming one's own species. History is full of examples: the Aztecs in ritual, the Donner party in desperation, and the current electorate in metaphor. Yet my proposal requires no violence, no desecration of the dead, and no more discomfort than the average blood draw. The donors may even receive vouchers for their contribution, redeemable at participating grocers for discounted portions of themselves or others.
Such a system would serve many ends.
First, it would greatly reduce our reliance on industrial livestock, the maintenance of which has long plagued our environment. The methane produced by cattle has been decried by climate scientists, yet I observe that human tissue releases no methane in its post-biotic state. Cultured human meat, properly processed, is clean, low in saturated fat, and free from the hormones, antibiotics, and ancestral guilt associated with traditional animal flesh. One might even say that it represents a more ethical form of consumption, in that its source has chosen, voluntarily and with full knowledge of the facts, to have its cultured flesh be eaten.
Second, it would restore dignity to those now mocked by food insecurity. Rather than relying on charity or subsidies, they might take pride in providing for their families by the most literal of means. A mother could serve herself to her children in the form of lightly seasoned meatballs; a grandfather might return to the Sunday table as a roast. No longer would families be torn apart by hunger. They would be brought together, in nourishing communion.
Of course, I am not so insensitive as to ignore potential objections.
Some will claim that this proposal invites cannibalism. I assure these readers that the cells involved are far from sentient, lacking even a central nervous system. They are, in every functional sense, indistinguishable from the muscle fibers of a swine or steer, save for their genetic elegance and absence of hooves.
Still others will raise questions of taste. To these I say: have you eaten a chicken nugget? Have you examined its provenance?
I have consulted with numerous scientists, many of whom assure me that the nutritional profile of cultured human meat is superior to that of beef. With appropriate seasoning—a little rosemary, perhaps, or a balsamic glaze—the meat is said to possess a flavor reminiscent of pork, though more tender. It has been suggested that the thigh yields a robust stew, the cheek a delicate tartare.
I think it unnecessary to multiply the advantages of my scheme. Anyone with an elementary grasp of supply chains or empathy fatigue can see the promise herein. If but a tenth of our population were to contribute a small sample of their flesh each year, our nation might feed itself indefinitely, and do so without a single additional pasture or slaughterhouse.
Let us no longer gnash our teeth about the rising price of meat. Let us grow that meat, from ourselves, for ourselves. Let us eat, and be eaten yet not harmed, in turn.
I invite you to think about why we pay people to donate blood, plasma, sperm, eggs, hair, and other bodily parts for money. These provide someone else with the gift of life—just as food does.