Are Biomaterials the Future?

From 15-17th October, the Moholy-Nagy University of Art and Design (MOME) hosted its fourth Future Materials Conference in Budapest, Hungary — an inspiring gathering of designers, scientists, and innovators from across the globe. Participants from Canada, the UK, Italy, Finland, Japan, and Hungary presented remarkable projects using unconventional materials: bones, invasive plants, discarded advertising banners, fishing waste, even decommissioned firearms. It’s incredible to witness how creative humans can be when faced with the need to find solutions.

This belief — that innovation comes from constraint — is one of the reasons I’ve always supported the end of virgin plastic production. We’ve already extracted and produced enough material from the Earth. What we need now are smarter, more circular systems that make use of what already exists.

One of the most thought-provoking moments came from Ron Wakkary, who invited us to reflect on the boundaries between human and non-human beings. He presented an image that contrasted two worlds:

• On the left, a human-centred hierarchy, where humans and domesticated animals sit at the top — an anthropocentric and simplified ecosystem shaped by our activities.

• On the right, a restored, interconnected ecosystem, where all species coexist in balance and interdependence, rather than being organised by dominance.

  

Chris Lefteri offered another memorable metaphor, drawing from The Jetsons, that 1960s cartoon vision of the future filled with flying cars and plastic everything. In that era, plastic symbolised progress — a futuristic, clean, and convenient material that revolutionised modern life. But as Chris reminded us, our idea of “the future” has changed. What once stood for innovation and prosperity now represents overconsumption and environmental harm. The challenge before us is to redefine what progress means in material design — and to see biomaterials as a bridge between innovation and regeneration.

The conference also explored the aesthetics of imperfection, particularly in recycled and bio-based materials. We live in a culture that celebrates flawless finishes and uniformity, yet recycled and repurposed materials often carry visible traces of their past lives. Instead of seeing these as flaws, the speakers invited us to embrace them as marks of authenticity.A perfect example is Humanium Metal, made from melted-down illegal firearms and transformed into watches and other everyday objects. The subtle imperfections in the metal surface are not defects — they are evidence of transformation, turning instruments of violence into symbols of peace and purpose.

Throughout the event, one theme echoed again and again: material choice should begin at the start of the design process, not be treated as a finishing decision. Materials define how products behave, age, and return to the system — they shape both form and impact.

Some of the projects presented were truly visionary:

• A collaboration between MIT’s Self-Assembly Lab and Emeco created a chair without foam, glue, or stitching — easy to recycle and built to last.

No Foam KNIT project challenges traditional furniture design paradigms by focusing on fully knit customisable upholstery that completely eliminates the use of foam, adhesives, assembly, and material waste. This pioneering approach developed through the Self-Assembly Lab’s expertise in industrial knitting not only reduces environmental impact but also reimagines how we think about comfort and aesthetics in furniture. 

To achieve this, the team developed new techniques for knit upholstery that can replace foam by providing comparable soft cushioning in a 3D knit structure while also eliminating any assembly or waste by removing cut-and-sew processes. Further, this upholstery can become a fully recyclable mono-material textile, where the yarn acts as both the skin and the foam replacement within the upholstery, eliminating waste at the end-of-life. These techniques not only minimize the footprint of textiles in the furniture industry but they also point towards new manufacturing and assembly possibilities that can be customizable, efficient and lead to new aesthetics through material functionality.

MIT’s Self-Assembly Lab & Emeco’s collaboration seeks to inspire a new generation of designers and consumers to rethink the relationship between materials, manufacturing functionality, and sustainability.

Designers turned discarded deer antlers into elegant wristwatches, merging craftsmanship with ethical sourcing.

Old advertising paper was transformed into lightweight, architectural structure for an event that lasted 3 days only. Afterwards the stand was bought by the Arts Museum in Copenhagen and it is inside the building as part of the exhibition.

Damaged fishing gear, often destined for landfill, became table top as heavy and beautiful as marble. The idea of Pan-Project was creating something that worths repurposing such as a marble table.

Dana Saez from Studio Hansen presented the mycelium, combined with beech wood chips, used to grow renewable construction bricks — strong, free of chemicals and entirely compostable.

I could list ten more examples, but one question lingered:

Could we live in a world made only of biomaterials — forever?

The speakers agreed that it could be possible — if the right infrastructure existed.

That made me reflect on one of my guiding principles: design for the current infrastructure, so that products are compatible with existing end-of-life systems. But this conference challenged me to think differently.

Should we continue designing within the limits of systems built for the “Jetsons era” — an age that idealised synthetic materials — or should we dare to design for the world we want, even if today’s infrastructure isn’t ready for it yet?