The larvae of adult black soldier flies can turn food waste into sustainable protein with minimal methane gas emissions.
In Sydney, Australia, in the basement of an inner-city high-rise, lives a mass of unexpected inhabitants: millions of maggots. The insects are far from unwelcome. They are there to feast on the food waste generated by the building's human residents.
Goterra, the start-up that installed the maggots in the building in December, belongs to the rapidly expanding insect agriculture industry, which is experiencing a surge of investment worldwide.
The maggots – the larvae of the black soldier fly – are voracious, unfussy eaters. As adult flies, they don't eat, so the young fatten up swiftly on whatever they can get. Goterra's basement colony can munch through 5 metric tons of waste in a day.
"Maggots are nature's cleaners," says Bob Gordon, Head of Growth at Goterra. "They're a great tool to manage waste streams."
Their capacity to consume presents a neat response to the problem of food waste, which contributes up to 8% of global greenhouse gas emissions each year as it rots in landfill.
"The maggots eat the food fairly fresh," Gordon says. "So, there's minimal degradation and you don't get those methane emissions."
Alongside their ability to devour waste, the soldier fly larvae hold further agricultural promise: they yield an incredibly efficient protein. After the maggots have binged for about 12 days, Goterra harvests and processes them into a protein-rich livestock feed. Their excrement, known as frass, is also collected and turned into soil conditioner.
"We are producing protein in a basement," says Gordon. "It's urban farming – really sustainable, urban farming."
Goterra's module in the basement at Barangaroo, Sydney.
Supplied by Goterra
Goterra's founder Olympia Yarger started producing the insects in "buckets in her backyard" in 2016. Today, Goterra has a large-scale processing plant and has developed proprietary modules – in shipping containers – that use robotics to manage the larvae.
The modules have been installed on site at municipal buildings, hospitals, supermarkets, several McDonald's restaurants, and a range of smaller enterprises in Australia. Users pay a subscription fee and simply pour in the waste; Goterra visits once a fortnight to harvest the bugs.
Insect agriculture is well established outside of the West, and the practice is gaining traction around the world. China has mega-facilities that can process hundreds of tons of waste in a day. In Kenya, a program recently trained 2000 farmers in soldier fly farming to boost their economic security. French biotech company InnovaFeed, in partnership with US agricultural heavyweight ADM, plans to build "the world's largest insect protein facility" in Illinois this year.
"The [maggots] are science fiction on earth. Watching them work is awe-inspiring."
But the concept is still not to everyone's taste.
"This is still a topic that I say is a bit like black liquorice – people tend to either really like it or really don't," says Wendy Lu McGill, Communications Director at the North American Coalition of Insect Agriculture (NACIA).
Formed in 2016, NACIA now has over 100 members – including researchers and commercial producers of black soldier flies, meal worms and crickets.
McGill says there have been a few iterations of insect agriculture in the US – beginning with worms produced for bait after World War II then shifting to food for exotic pets. The current focus – "insects as food and feed" – took root about a decade ago, with the establishment of the first commercial farms for this purpose.
"We're starting to see more expansion in the U.S. and a lot of the larger investments have been for black soldier fly producers," McGill says. "They tend to have larger facilities and the animal feed market they're looking at is potentially quite large."
InnovaFeed's Illinois facility is set to produce 60,000 metric tons of animal feed protein per year.
"They'll be trying to employ many different circular principles," McGill says of the project. "For example, the heat from the feed factory – the excess heat that would normally just be vented – will be used to heat the other side that's raising the black soldier fly."
Although commercial applications have started to flourish recently, scientific knowledge of the black soldier fly's potential has existed for decades.
Dr. Jeffery Tomberlin, an entomologist at Texas A&M University, has been studying the insect for over 20 years, contributing to key technologies used in the industry. He also founded Evo, a black soldier fly company in Texas, which feeds its larvae the waste from a local bakery and distillery.
"They are science fiction on earth," he says of the maggots. "Watching them work is awe-inspiring."
Tomberlin says fly farms can work effectively at different scales, and present possibilities for non-Western countries to shift towards "commodity independence."
"You don't have to have millions of dollars invested to be successful in producing this insect," he says. "[A farm] can be as simple as an open barn along the equator to a 30,000 square-foot indoor facility in the Netherlands."
As the world's population balloons, food insecurity is an increasing concern. By 2050, the UN predicts that to feed our projected population we will need to ramp up food production by at least 60%. Insect agriculture, which uses very little land and water compared to traditional livestock farming, could play a key role.
Insects may become more common human food, but the current commercial focus is animal feed. Aquaculture is a key market, with insects presenting an alternative to fish meal derived from over-exploited stocks. Insect meal is also increasingly popular in pet food, particularly in Europe.
While recent investment has been strong – NACIA says 2020 was the best year yet – reaching a scale that can match existing agricultural industries and providing a competitive price point are still hurdles for insect agriculture.
But COVID-19 has strengthened the argument for new agricultural approaches, such as the decentralized, indoor systems and circular principles employed by insect farms.
"This has given the world a preview – which no one wanted – of [future] supply chain disruptions," says McGill.
As the industry works to meet demand, Tomberlin predicts diversification and product innovation: "I think food science is going to play a big part in that. They can take an insect and create ice cream." (Dried soldier fly larvae "taste kind of like popcorn," if you were wondering.)
Tomberlin says the insects could even become an interplanetary protein source: "I do believe in that. I mean, if we're going to colonize other planets, we need to be sustainable."
But he issues a word of caution about the industry growing too big, too fast: "I think we as an industry need to be very careful of how we harness and apply [our knowledge]. The black soldier fly is considered the crown jewel today, but if it's mismanaged, it can be relegated back to a past."
Goterra's Gordon also warns against rushing into mass production: "If you're just replacing big intensive animal agriculture with big intensive animal agriculture with more efficient animals, then what's the change you're really effecting?"
But he expects the industry will continue its rise though the next decade, and Goterra – fuelled by recent $8 million Series A funding – plans to expand internationally this year.
"Within 10 years' time, I would like to see the vast majority of our unavoidable food waste being used to produce maggots to go into a protein application," Gordon says.
"There's no lack of demand. And there's no lack of food waste."
Biochemist Longxing Cao is working with colleagues at the University of Washington on promising research to disable infectious coronavirus in a person's nose.
This may sounds like science fiction, but several research groups are already working on such trickster coronavirus drugs, with some candidates close to clinical trials and possibly even becoming available late this year. The teams began working on them when the pandemic arrived, and continued in lockdown.
When the pandemic first hit and the state of California issued a lockdown order on March 16, postdoctoral researchers Anum and Jeff Glasgow found themselves stuck at home with nothing to do. The two scientists who study bioengineering felt that they were well equipped to research molecular ways of disabling coronavirus's cell-penetrating spike protein, but they could no longer come to their labs at the University of California San Francisco.
"We were upset that no one put us in the game," says Anum Glasgow. "We have a lot of experience between us doing these types of projects so we wanted to contribute." But they still had computers so they began modeling the potential virus-disabling proteins in silico using Robetta, special software for designing and modeling protein structures, developed and maintained by University of Washington biochemist David Baker and his lab.
"We saw some imperfections in that lock and key and we created something better. We made a 10 times tighter adhesive."
The SARS-CoV-2 virus that causes Covid-19 uses its surface spike protein to bind on to a specific receptor on human cells called ACE2. Unfortunately for humans, the spike protein's molecular shape fits the ACE2 receptor like a well-cut key, making it very successful at breaking into our cells. But if one could design a molecular ACE2-mimic to "trick" the virus into latching onto it instead, the virus would no longer be able to enter cells. Scientists call such mimics receptor traps or inhibitors, or blockers. "It would block the adhesive part of the virus that binds to human cells," explains Jim Wells, professor of pharmaceutical chemistry at UCSF, whose lab took part in designing the ACE2-receptor mimic, working with the Glasgows and other colleagues.
The idea of disabling infectious or inflammatory agents by tricking them into binding to the targets' molecular look-alikes is something scientists have tried with other diseases. The anti-inflammatory drugs commonly used to treat autoimmune conditions, including rheumatoid arthritis, Crohn's disease and ulcerative colitis, rely on conceptually similar molecular mechanisms. Called TNF blockers, these drugs block the activity of the inflammatory cytokines, molecules that promote inflammation. "One of the biggest selling drugs in the world is a receptor trap," says Jeff Glasgow. "It acts as a receptor decoy. There's a TNF receptor that traps the cytokine."
In the recent past, scientists also pondered a similar look-alike approach to treating urinary tract infections, which are often caused by a pathogenic strain of Escherichia coli. An E. coli bacterium resembles a squid with protruding filaments equipped with proteins that can change their shape to form hooks, used to hang onto specific sugar molecules called ligands, which are present on the surface of the epithelial cells lining the urinary tract.
A recent study found that a sugar-like compound that's structurally similar to that ligand can play a similar trick on the E. Coli. When administered in in sufficient amounts, the compound hooks the bacteria on, which is then excreted out of the body with urine. The "trickster" method had been also tried against the HIV virus, but it wasn't very effective because HIV has a high mutation rate and multiple ways of entering human cells.
But the coronavirus spike protein's shape is more stable. And while it has a strong affinity for the ACE2 receptors, its natural binding to these receptors isn't perfect, which allowed the UCSF researchers to design a mimic with a better grip. "We saw some imperfections in that lock and key and we created something better," says Wells. "We made a 10 times tighter adhesive." The team demonstrated that their traps neutralized SARS-CoV-2 in lab experiments and published their study in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.
Baker, who is the director of the Institute for Protein Design at the University of Washington, was also devising ACE2 look-alikes with his team. Only unlike the UCSF team, they didn't perfect the virus-receptor lock and key combo, but instead designed their mimics from scratch. Using Robetta, they digitally modeled over two million proteins, zeroed-in on over 100,000 potential candidates and identified a handful with a strong promise of blocking SARS-CoV-2, testing them against the virus in human cells. Their design of the miniprotein inhibitors was published in the journal Science.
Biochemist David Baker, pictured in his lab at the University of Washington.
UW
The concept of the ACE2 receptor mimics is somewhat similar to the antibody plasma, but better, the teams explain. Antibodies don't always coat all of the virus's spike proteins and sometimes don't bind perfectly. By contrast, the ACE2 mimics directly compete with the virus's entry mechanism. ACE2 mimics are also easier and cheaper to make, researchers say.
Antibodies, which are long protein chains, must be grown inside mammalian cells, which is a slow and costly process. As drugs, antibody cocktails must be kept refrigerated. On the contrary, proteins that mimic ACE2 receptors are smaller and can be produced by bacteria easily and inexpensively. Designed to specs, these proteins don't need refrigeration and are easy to store. "We designed them to be very stable," says Baker. "Our computation design tries to come up with the stable proteins that have the desired functions."
That stability may allow the team to create an inhaler drug rather than an intravenous one, which would be another advantage over the antibody plasma, given via an IV. The team envisions people spraying the miniprotein solution into their nose, creating a protecting coating that would disable the inhaled virus. "The infection starts from your respiratory system, from your nose," explains Longxing Cao, the study's co-author—so a nasal spray would be a natural way to administer it. "So that you can have it like a layer, similar to a mask."
As the virus evolves, new variants are arising. But the teams think that their ACE2 protein mimics should work on the new variants too for several reasons. "Since the new SARS-CoV-2 variants still use ACE2 for their cell entry, they will likely still be susceptible to ACE2-based traps," Glasgow says.
Cao explains that their approach should work too because most of the mutations happen outside the ACE2 binding region. Plus, they are building multiple binders that can bind to an array of the coronavirus variants. "Our binder can still bind with most of the variants and we are trying to make one protein that could inhibit all the future escape variants," he says.
Baker and Cao hope that their miniproteins may be available to patients later this year. But besides getting the medicine out to patients, this approach will allow researchers to test the computer-modeled mimics end-to-end with an unprecedented speed. That would give humans a leg up in future pandemics or zoonotic disease outbreaks, which remain an increasingly pressing threat due to human activity and climate change.
"That's what we are focused on right now—understanding what we have learned from this pandemic to improve our design methods," says Baker. "So that we should be able to obtain binders like these very quickly when a new pandemic threat is identified."
