Can we live in buildings made from living materials?
Concrete is everywhere. From skyscrapers to sidewalks, it is the backbone of modern life. But behind its strength lies a hidden weakness for the planet. Cement, the key ingredient in concrete, is responsible for nearly eight percent of global carbon emissions. Producing it requires intense heat, vast amounts of energy, and natural resources that strain ecosystems. As the world pushes toward a lower-carbon future, the construction industry faces a reckoning: how can we build without breaking the planet?
A growing field of research may hold the answer. Known as Living Building Materials, or LBMs, these innovations merge biology with materials science to create structures that can repair themselves, absorb carbon, and even adapt to their surroundings. Instead of treating buildings as static objects that degrade over time, LBMs envision them as dynamic systems that get stronger and healthier as they age.
One of the most promising examples comes from fungi. Mycelium, the underground root network of mushrooms, has become a surprising candidate for sustainable construction. Mycelium acts like a natural glue, binding together agricultural byproducts such as sawdust, straw, or hemp. When placed in molds, it grows into dense, lightweight bricks or panels. The process is simple, low-energy, and makes use of waste streams that would otherwise be discarded. Better still, as the mycelium grows, it sequesters carbon dioxide, often resulting in a carbon-negative material. Architects and designers have already built experimental structures using mycelium bricks, demonstrating that what was once a fragile prototype can be a viable building material. Although these projects have mostly been temporary, they point to a future where walls could be grown, rather than manufactured.
Concrete itself is also being reimagined through biology. Researchers have developed self-healing concrete that uses bacteria as microscopic builders. These bacteria, such as Bacillus pasteurii, are mixed into the concrete during production. They remain dormant until cracks begin to form and water seeps in. Then, like tiny masons, the bacteria wake up and metabolize a nutrient that allows them to produce limestone. This limestone fills the cracks, sealing them automatically. Such a system can extend the lifespan of concrete structures by decades, reducing the need for costly maintenance and the emissions tied to constant repairs.
A related innovation is biocement. Instead of firing bricks in energy-intensive kilns, scientists use bacteria to bind sand grains together at room temperature. The result is a strong, stone-like material made without the massive carbon footprint of traditional cement. By eliminating the need for high heat and fossil fuels, biocement could significantly reduce the environmental impact of construction.
The promise of these materials extends beyond durability. Unlike conventional construction products that often release volatile organic compounds into indoor air, many natural living materials are toxin-free. This means healthier homes and workplaces with cleaner air. At the end of their life cycle, these materials can often be composted or safely reabsorbed into the environment, transforming buildings into part of a circular economy rather than contributing to landfills. Some researchers even imagine materials that can sense and respond to changes in their environment, adjusting insulation properties as temperatures shift. Buildings would no longer just shelter us; they would actively help regulate our surroundings.
Still, significant challenges remain before living materials can move from research labs to city skylines. The first is scale. While LBMs have shown promise in small projects, producing them on an industrial scale that matches global demand is still far off. Cost is another barrier. At present, many of these innovations are more expensive than mass-produced concrete and steel. Until economies of scale bring prices down, adoption will be slow. Finally, building codes present a major hurdle. Regulations were designed with traditional, predictable materials in mind. Updating them to account for living systems will require both scientific validation and political will.
Despite these obstacles, the momentum is growing. Start-ups, universities, and even major construction firms are investing in bio-based solutions. The science is no longer a question; it is the systems around it that must evolve. If these hurdles can be overcome, the construction industry could transform from one of the largest sources of emissions into a driver of climate solutions.
The vision is bold: cities that are not just less damaging, but regenerative. Streets, schools, and homes built from materials that heal themselves, clean the air, and eventually return safely to the earth. For a planet under pressure, this shift could redefine the very meaning of architecture. Instead of building structures that deteriorate over time, we could create living cities that grow stronger, healthier, and more resilient with each passing year.
