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July 28, 2025 • 36 mins

Would you eat a burger grown from a human muscle cell? Would you rather use your own cell or someone else's? What does the future of lab-grown meat illuminate about neuroscience, our calculations of morality, and whether your grandchildren will have a different answer? What does any of this have to do with endangered species, the sacred versus the profane, brain plasticity, moral positioning, social belonging, stepping on the boundary between mental categories, flesh copyrights, and the future of personhood? 

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Speaker 1 (00:05):
Would you eat a burder grown from human muscle cells?
And what does this question uncover about neuroscience and our
calculations of morality? And whether your children will have a
different answer, And what does this have to do with
endangered species or the sacred versus the profane, or brain plasticity,

(00:27):
or moral positioning or social belonging, or stepping on the
boundaries between moral categories or flesh copyrights or the future
of personhood, or what your food choices say about you.
Welcome to Inner Cosmos with me David Eagelman. I'm a

(00:49):
neuroscientist and an author at Stanford, and in these episodes
we sail deeply into our three pound universe to uncover
some of the most surprising aspects.

Speaker 2 (00:59):
Of our life.

Speaker 1 (01:15):
Today's episode is for sure the weirdest topic I've tackled.
But I found myself chewing on a question that is
hypothetical for now but will not be in a decade,
and I realized that asking the question serves as a
great lever to open up several issues about neuroscience and

(01:35):
our sense of morality. So let's begin with something familiar,
a hamburger, not the fast food kind of burger from
a cow that you're used to. This one you're holding
in your hand now was never part of an animal.
This one never mooed or clocked or ran through a field.
This burger started its life not on a farm, but

(01:58):
in a lab. This is the world of lab grown
meat that has been trucking along for years. The way
this works is you take a few little cells from
an animal. In theory, you could take just one cell.
This is a totally harmless, almost undetectable little biopsy. So
you pop off a cell from an animal's muscle. You

(02:21):
can also take it from the skin and reprogram that
into a stem cell and then differentiate it into a
muscle cell. But it's easier if you just start with
a muscle cell. Then what do you do with that
little cell. You put together the right cocktail of nutrients
and growth factors, and you stick it all in a
little petri dish or a bigger bioreactor, and that single

(02:42):
cell starts to divide and divide and divide, until eventually
you've got lots of cells. And what is that It's
a chunk of meat. That's all meat is, of course,
just a hunk of muscle tissue made of lots and
lots of little cells. Now, in practice people coculture some
fat cells in there too to get the marbling of meat.

(03:05):
And that's it. This is the stuff of burgers and
sausages and nuggets. This is real meat, just without the
animal who had to be raised and then killed. In
this case, the animal is still walking around out there,
totally unaware that it is a donor to the future

(03:26):
of human food consumption. In theory, with the right setup,
you'd never have to return to that animal again. You
could just keep those cells dividing, growing batch after batch,
a potentially infinite supply of burgers without killing a single animal.
Now that's pretty revolutionary. Part of the benefit is the ethics,

(03:49):
no more slaughterhouses, no more factory farms. And there's also
the environment too. Livestock is what gives fifteen percent of
greenhouse gas emissions. A cow is basically a methane factory
on four legs, and over a lifetime, a cow's water
usage is astronomical. So growing meat in a lab could

(04:11):
dramatically reduce our ecological footprint. Okay, so that all sounds great,
but the wrinkle for now is that it's very expensive.
The first lab grown burger was grown in twenty thirteen
and it cost over three hundred thousand dollars. Now prices
have been dropping since then, but it's still not fast

(04:32):
food cheap, and the energy requirements are huge. So for
the foreseeable future, this remains a kind of botique technology
with a lot of promise for the future. But what
I want to do today is think about the implications.
Because once you're growing meat from cells, you're not restricted

(04:53):
to cows or chickens or pigs. You can pop off
a cell and grow meat from anything. What if you
wanted a zebra burger you could do that. What if
you wanted a polar bear burger? Why not? What if
you wanted a falcon burger? It might be gamy, but
go for it. You could, without harming any animal, create

(05:17):
a burger from the cells of a cheetah or a
bald eagle or a panda bear. And that raises so
many strange questions now that there's no ethical issues. For example,
would you eat a burger made from an endangered animal
like an orangutan burger or certain types of rhinoceros. Again,

(05:38):
no animal is harmed here. You're not poaching a tiger
or hunting an elephant. You're cultivating a few cells, and
you could do this ethically and sustainably and harmlessly. So
is that okay? Is it less offensive? If no animal
is hurt? Does it change how we think about conservation

(05:59):
or species sanctity? These are the opportunities that your grandchildren
will have when they go into a restaurant. These will
be their menu options. And then it gets even stranger
because for the past few decades we've been unlocking ancient
DNA from mammoths, from Neanderthals, from creatures that haven't walked

(06:21):
the earth in tens of thousands or millions of years.
So would you try a wooly mammoth meatball? How about
a Jurassic barbecue like pterodactyl buffalo wings or a velociraptor steak.
And then, because this line of reasoning has no natural endpoint,

(06:42):
we reach the real question. Would you eat a human
burger not carved from a human and not taken from
anyone against their will? Just a few cells, a few
muscle cells, and a few fat cells grown in a dish,
No pain, no death, no victim. The question is is

(07:03):
that or is that not cannibalism? If no one is harmed,
no one dies, You're not desecrating a corpse. Will the
taboo still apply in the future. Now, we're gonna ask
ourselves some crazy questions to probe our sense of the
morality and the weirdness here. And remember, while these questions

(07:24):
seem insane to us, they're not going to for our
near term descendants. Okay, So the first question is, how
would you feel about eating the burger if it's your
own cells? Would you eat a self burger? Would it
be an active curiosity of narcissism, of culinary self knowledge,

(07:45):
not just you are what you eat, but you eat
who you are? Okay? Would you feel better eating a
self burger or a stranger burger? Does it matter who
the donor is? Would you feel different about eating a
burger made from the cells of an Olympic athlete versus
a person who is homeless. Keep in mind these are

(08:07):
just muscle cells. The cells don't hold the properties of
the larger person. But does it feel different if the
burger comes from someone's society admires versus someone's society shuns.
How about a burger made from your favorite movie star
versus a prisoner? Because biologically it's the same. These are

(08:27):
just hunks of marbled muscle fiber. There's no memory, there's
no personality. These are just cells. I was recently bouncing
this idea off my friend Kevin Kelly, and he was
struck with an idea that lit him up. He imagined
that in the not so distant future, married couples might
celebrate their wedding not with a cake, but with a
we burger. This is a combination of both partner cells

(08:52):
grown and grilled and ceremoniously eaten together. Now, there's something
loving and something disturbing about that idea. There's something sacred
and something grotesque. And that's the point. Lab Drone meat
is going to force us to confront the boundaries of
our ethics and our imagination. It invites us to question

(09:15):
why we draw lines exactly where we do, and whether
those lines are drawn in ink or in pencil. Okay,
so let's slow down to examine our physical responses to
these questions. When I asked you if you would eat
a human burger, even if you were nodding along with

(09:35):
the science, following the logic and understanding that nobody is harmed,
something else likely happened in your body, a little tightening
in your stomach, maybe a physical recoil or a facial
expression you didn't mean to make. That all comes from
the neural circuitry of disgust. Disgust is a neurological alarm bell.

(09:57):
It's a deeply wired signal, usually for survival. When you're disgusted,
we see activation of a brain region called the insula,
specifically the anterior insular cortex. This is a region that
integrates information from your body like smells and tastes and
gut sensations, and helps to generate the subjective feeling of revulsion.

(10:19):
So if you're in a brain scanner like fMRI and
you smell something rotten, or you see a gruesome injury,
or sometimes if you even just watch someone else react
and disgust, your insula lights up. But here's the thing.
Your insula also responds to moral violations. If you read

(10:40):
a story about someone betraying their friend, or cheating on
a test or committing a cruel act, this same brain
region is involved. Your body responds to moral pollution the
same way it responds to physical contamination, and that gives
us a clue that discussed is more than just an

(11:01):
evolutionary tool. For avoiding spoiled meat or dirty water. It
becomes the basis for our morality. It's how we police
the boundaries of what is acceptable, what is clean and unclean,
what is sacred and what is profane, or when it
comes to the way that we have traditionally eaten animals,

(11:21):
what has conscious feelings and experiences pain and what does not,
And this brings us to the idea of purity. Disgust

(11:43):
is most reactive not when something is dangerous, but when
something violates a perceived natural order. It doesn't have to
make sense logically, it just has to feel wrong. That's
why we shudder at the idea of incest, even when
it's hypothet me. This is why we gag at the
idea of drinking sterilized urine, even if it's scientifically safe,

(12:07):
and why for many people the idea of eating lab
drown animal meat trips that same internal alarm. My colleague
Jonathan Height did research on this some years ago and
found that in some situations, we don't build our moral
judgments from reason. We make snap decisions based on gut reactions,

(12:28):
and then we backfill with logic afterward. It's like our
brain has a courtroom, but the verdict is decided before
the lawyers even speak. In other words, we feel first
and we justify later. For example, in one study, Jonathan
Height and his student Scott Murphy presented participants with harmless

(12:49):
scenarios that were morally provocative, like a story about a
brother and sister who choose to have consensual sex just
once while on vacation, using birth control, telling no one,
and never doing it again. There's no direct harm in
the story, and yet most participants judged it to be

(13:10):
deeply wrong. When asked why, they struggled to articulate clear reasons.
They might mention genetic risk, which was controlled for by
the birth control, or emotional damage, which the story ruled out,
but these explanations were tacked on after the judgment had
already been made. In other words, people feel something is wrong,

(13:32):
but they can't explain why. In describing this, Height wrote, quote,
judgments were based more on gut feelings than on reasoning,
and participants more frequently laughed and directly stated that they
had no reasons to support their judgments end quote. Now
this is fascinating because that instinctive disgust, that gag reflex

(13:55):
is not always aligned with harm. Consider this. Some cultures
have rituals of reverend cannibalism, eating the flesh of a
loved one as an act of mourning and remembrance and love.
Most other cultures find that horrifying. So which is it?
Is it honoring or violating? Obviously, disgust is in some

(14:19):
part shaped by your culture. In some countries they eat dogs.
I have a dog who I love, and that repulses me.
Some places eat horses, some don't. Here in America we
love to eat cows, but in the majority of states
in India, killing a cow is revolting and illegal. So
some amount of our reactions are culturally poured into us,

(14:43):
and once they're baked in, they're hard to shake. We
don't just say, well that food isn't for me. We
say that's gross. We react with our whole bodies. And
this brings us back to the human burger. No one
is harm, no death, no trauma, just a few cells
grown in a dish. And these are just mammalian cells,
with very little difference between this and a McDonald's burger.

(15:06):
But psychologically these are worlds apart, because the human body
in almost all cultures is not just meat. It's a
sacred vessel. To consume it feels like a transgression. And
this is what lab grown meat forces us to confront
our narratives and when they might or might not require

(15:28):
an update. What is meat when it no longer comes
from a death? What is identity when flesh can be
copy pasted? What is taboo when the source of the
taboo is no longer present? Like harm or suffering? When
we think about the human burger, we find that we
often end up like Jonathan Hight's participants, who laugh and

(15:51):
shake their heads and can't articulate any reason why they
thought something was disgusting or immoral. So discussed is a
powerful emotion, but it's not always a reliable guide. It
was honed to help us survive in the ancient savannah,
but not really to navigate bioengineered futures. As the world changes,

(16:15):
how flexible are our brains? Will we continue to have
moral decisions dictated by ancient alarms? Or are we able
to update the software running in our heads? I don't
know the answer to this, but this is why I
would love to freeze myself and come back in one
hundred years, because it will be fascinating to see how

(16:36):
generations down the line, born into a new world are
going to see these issues and whether they're going to
be issues at all, And maybe, just maybe we're going
to have to learn to distinguish between what is gross
and what is wrong. So let's return to the central question.

(16:57):
Would you eat human meat without harmony? A human being
just a few skin cells coaxed into becoming muscle tissue
in a sterile dish. Why does something feel wrong? Well,
let's zoom in on a notion from psychology, the notion
of the ontological boundary. This is the invisible line that

(17:17):
our minds draw between categories of being, between what is
alive and what is not, or what is human and
what is animal, or what is a person and what
is an object. We are constantly sorting the world into
these sorts of categories, and when something crosses those boundaries,

(17:38):
we get a visceral reaction. For example, a corpse looks
like a person, but it isn't one anymore, or a
lab grown human burger is made of human flesh, but
no one was harmed in taking it. These things sit
in a kind of category limbo. They don't fit neatly

(17:59):
into the boxes that our minds rely on, and when
something violates an onto logical boundary, it tends to provoke
a reaction like disgust, or fascination or fear. That's why
lab grown human cells feel unsettling, because it blurs the
line between food and person. Even if no harm is done,

(18:22):
the categories we use to make sense of the world
are being scrambled because, whether we're aware of it or not,
most of us carry the belief deep in our psyches
that the human body is special. It's more than just
carbon and calcium and protein. That there's something about the
body that shouldn't be violated or copied or consumed or commodified.

(18:45):
The body, in all human cultures is more than a
physical thing. It's a vessel of identity and memory and
history and personhood, sometimes even divinity. So when we talk
about lab grown human burgers, we're not just proposing a
new food. We're poking at a sacred object. I mean,

(19:06):
just zoom in on the way that every human culture
has rituals around the body. Look at how cultures bury
their dead or handle the remains. Some cultures wash and
dress the body with reverence. Others burn it or freeze
it or bury it or leave it for vultures. But
what they all share is the sense that what we

(19:27):
do with the body matters. It's more than just disposal.
It's a final act of communication with the person or
with the divine. That's what's being disrupted here. Lab grown
human meat scrambles this signal. It's not a body. It
never lived. But it feels like a violation because we're

(19:47):
so used to equating the flesh with the person. Now,
there are ways of getting around this category violation. Take
as an example Catholicism, where you have this ritual of
communion that involves eating bread and wine that's symbolically or
depending on your theology, literally becomes the body and blood

(20:09):
of Jesus Christ. It's an act of sacred consumption, and
no one flinches at it. Why because it's ritualized and
abstracted and sanctified. But what about eating the muscle tissue
of a stranger from a bioreactor. Suddenly we're not so sure.
The frame is gone. There's no ritual, there's no tradition,

(20:30):
it's just raw novelty. It's not that the act is immoral,
it's that it's unclassifiable. It steps all over this ontological boundary.
It doesn't fit our mental boxes. So we find ourselves
in this strange new territory where science gives us possibilities

(20:50):
that culture hasn't caught up with. So we've been talking
about how brains view bodies, but let's turn to the
other half of it, how do brains view food? Because
when you look across cultures, the thing that's clear is
that food is deeply ingrained into our cultural identity. Food

(21:10):
is how we say I love you without using words.
It's how we connect across generations. It's the childhood recipe
that your grandmother never wrote down but everyone remembers. It's
the thing that your partner cooks when they know that
you've had a hard day. It's birthdays, it's first dates,
it's funerals. Food is how we mark time. But it's

(21:31):
also how we define who we are and who we
are not. From a cultural perspective, food gives one of
the clearest examples of in group versus outgroup behavior. The
human brain is intensely tribal. We're wired for group membership,
for affiliation, for categorizing us and them. There have been

(21:53):
lots of studies in my lab and others about the
brain regions involved when we think about other people, especially
when we assess whether they're in our group or not
in our group, whether they are like us or not
like us. Please check out episodes sixteen and twenty for
much more on that. Anyway, what someone eats is one
of the first cues that we notice. Think about when

(22:15):
someone tells you they are vegan or halal or paleo,
or that they only eat locally sourced food. That's not
just nutritional information. It's moral positioning. It's cultural identity, it's
a worldview. Even among people with similar values, food becomes
a way to fine tune social belonging. Think of the

(22:37):
complex subtribes just inside the category of ethical eaters. There's
the raw food movement, the regenerative agriculture crowd, the zero
waste Lokovores, the flexitarians who only eat meat on weekends.
Each group has different rules, different values, different aesthetics, and
they can instantly recognize who is in and who is out.

(22:58):
The neuroscientists Antonio Demasio talks about how somatic markers, which
are bodily feelings linked to past experiences, how these guide
are decisions. Our preferences around food are often somatic. In
other words, they're not just tied to reason, but to
emotion and memory and identity. So when lab grown meat

(23:22):
enters the picture, it doesn't just disrupt the food system,
it disrupts the identity system. Say that you're at a
dinner party and everyone has their own plate, someone's got
tofu someone else has grass fed steak, someone's trying oat
milk for the first time, and then you you brought
the lab grown koala bear sliders. Now what have you done.

(23:44):
You've stepped outside the norm, You've broken the script. You
haven't just introduced a new food, You've introduced a new category.
Your koala bear slider isn't from the eucalyptus forest in Australia.
It isn't from a factory. It isn't from tradition. It's
from the future. It's synthetic. It happens to be ethical,

(24:07):
but it's deeply weird. And that changes how people see you.
Because we don't just eat for ourselves. We eat with
an audience in mind. Even when no one's watching, your
meal is part of your internal narrative. Your brain is
constantly simulating how others will perceive you. This involves a

(24:28):
process called mentalizing, which is about understanding yourself in terms
of other people's mental states. This kind of mentalizing is
what allows us to predict social reactions or to feel
embarrassment or pride. It's why people carefully curate what they
order on a first date. So now I ask yourself,

(24:49):
what are people mentally simulating when you bite into a
zebra burger or a lab grown nugget of Albert Einstein.
It's not about the nutrients, It's about the narrative. Something

(25:18):
else to note is that food is also ritualized. So
birthdays mean cake, Thanksgiving means turkey, Sunday dinner might mean pasta.
We have particular things we do, and we have particular
things we don't do. You don't serve sushi at a
funeral or scrambled eggs at a wedding. We eat in

(25:40):
patterns because it gives us structure, and because repetition gives
us meaning. These food rituals are encoded in your brain's
memory systems, like the hippocampus, but also more deeply, like
in the basal ganglia, which governs habit formation. In other words,
meal are engraved deeply in the system. They become part

(26:03):
of how we structure time, how we mark transition, sometimes,
how we know where we are in the week or
the year or the life cycle. So what happens when
you introduce a food that has no ritual context? What
happens when you show up with a we Burger to
your wedding or serve a lab grown Neanderthal brisket at

(26:25):
your child's graduation? Presumably there's confusion and uncertainty because food
carries symbolic gravity, and new symbols take time to stabilize.
Until they do, they're going to feel strange. That doesn't
mean they won't catch on. It just means our neural
maps for meaning haven't yet caught up. So here we are.

(26:50):
Scientific progress is handing us away to eat meat without death,
a way to separate flesh from suffering, a way to
pull burgers from a bio reactor instead of a body.
And we've looked at disgust and culture and food. But
now the societal questions begin, because even if something is
physically safe, and even if it's technically possible, who gets

(27:14):
to decide if it's okay? Who decides what you're allowed
to eat, what cells can be used, whose body is
off limits, what it means to own a piece of yourself,
because in this future world of lab grown meat, we
need to consider the implications through the lenses of law
and power. So start with a basic question. If somebody

(27:36):
swabs your cheek and grows a burger from it, do
you own it? It's your DNA, your biological signature, but
is it your property? Legally speaking? This isn't hypothetical. There
have been many court cases where people's cells were taken
without consent and used in research or commercial products. The

(27:57):
most famous case is from Henrietta Las nineteen fifty one.
She was a woman whose cancer cells were biop seed
and then used without her knowledge. Those cells became the
first immortal human cell line, known as HeLa cells, and
ever since they've been used in everything from polio vaccines
to cancer research to biotech patents. Her family didn't learn

(28:19):
about this until decades later, but she and they had
never given permission. So if a company today takes one
of your cells, just one, and turns it into a
thousand steaks, is that exploitation? Is it theft or is
it fair game? Biologically cells are cheap, but ethically they
are loaded, and when food enters the picture, the lines

(28:43):
blur even more so. Here's the scenario. Let's say a
startup offers you a contract, you donate a cell, and
in exchange, they create a line of you burgers. You
get royalties, they get a product. Everyone wins. Now, flip it.
What if they did? Ask? What if someone scraped your
DNA from a coffee cup and cultured it and released

(29:06):
it as a new product. Let's say you found out
that someone is marketing you stakes in your name. Would
that feel like an honor or a violation? In many jurisdictions.
Once your cells leave your body, you no longer legally
control them. They become discarded tissue. They are trash. They

(29:26):
are not yours. But what if that trash becomes a
million dollar food item? What if a celebrity's skin cells
are pirated and sold as premium cuts. Now this is
not impossible. We already have the infrastructure, we already have
the appetite for novelty, and we already live in an
AI world where increasingly your identity can be commodified your voice,

(29:49):
your face, your data. So maybe the next frontier is
your flesh. Of course, when things get murky, the law
eventually steps in. It always does, just slower than the technology.
So just think about the new legal landscape. Do we
need flesh copyrights? Can you trademark your DNA? Will we

(30:11):
need consent agreements before anyone can pick up your coffee cup?
Will there be legal lists of people whose cells can
never be grown, like saints or Nobel laureates or political leaders?
What about cultural boundaries? Would a lab grown burger made
from the cells of a historical figure be illegal? What

(30:32):
about someone from an indigenous community? What if the cells
came from a culture that considers the body untouchable after death.
Pretty soon, if you squint in your eyes and look
into the future, you'll see this becomes not about burgers,
but about cultural sovereignty, about biopolitics, about the strange new

(30:52):
terrain where bodies and identities and technologies collide. There's even
another factor that's going to be a play here, which
is intent attribution. Our brains are hyper tuned to detect intention,
even in abstract patterns like dots moving on a screen.
We tend to assign agency and purpose and will. This

(31:14):
means we don't just react to what someone does. We
react to why we think they did it. So if
someone eats a burger, grown from Nelson Mandela's cells. As
a political statement, that gets one reaction. If they do
it for shock value, that's a different one. If they
do it reverently as part of a memorial, that's something else. Entirely,

(31:38):
the mental model we construct around the act changes our
judgment of the act itself. So really the legality is
just the surface, because underneath is our brain's endless attempt
to infer motive and assign blame and detect disrespect. That's
why this issue will become so much more than just
a binary law, going to require individual analysis in each case.

(32:03):
And this brings us to another question, which is who
gets to eat whom? Because for all of human history,
food has mapped onto power. The rich eat the rare,
the poor eat the scraps. Colonial powers brought their own animals,
their own foods, their own values, and they imposed them.

(32:23):
So what happens in the future where meat is biologically democratized,
where anyone can eat panda or pope or pangle in.
Is that going to flatten social hierarchies or is it
going to deepen them? Will food become a playground for
the powerful, where celebrities sell edible versions of themselves or

(32:45):
billionaires hold exclusive rights to exotic cell lines. So will
this technology actually liberate us in undo centuries of inequality?
Or will it export the same dynamics under new names
with different packaging, and return to the original question, not
what's possible, but what's permissible? In this new world, flesh

(33:08):
is no longer finite, pain is no longer required, death
is no longer the entry ticket to dinner. But the
steaks are higher than ever because now we're deciding something
much bigger than dinner. We're deciding the future of personhood,
of consent and of meaning, and the laws we write
today will shape the menus of tomorrow. So let's put

(33:33):
ourselves some decades in the future and imagine that this
all becomes normal. The awkwardness has faded, the novelties worn off,
the headlines have moved on. Lab grown meat is now
just meat. Your grocery store sells everything from urd varc
to zebra. You can order a heritage steak cultured from

(33:54):
cells of extinct cattle, or a Dali Lama burgher. Or
you can order a me loaf grown from your own
cells and pan seared your children's children. They don't find
this strange. They've grown up in a world where meat
doesn't come from ranches but from labs, and maybe where

(34:14):
meals are tailored to your genetic deficiencies, and your kitchen
knows your microbiome and your mood. And now perhaps something
unexpected happens. As suffering is removed from the equation, the
meaning of eating comes back in because now that you
can eat without harm, you begin to choose with intent.

(34:36):
You eat not just to consume, but to connect. And
so in the future you might find that people are
not just eating for pleasure and nutrition, but they're eating
to remember a loved one, to honor a hero of theirs,
to merge with their bride or groom. Burgers in this
future are more than fast food, but a medium of

(34:58):
emotional exchange. So maybe in the end, the real question
isn't would you eat a human burger? The question is
what would you want that meal to mean? Because that
future is coming fast, The bioreactors are humming, the boundaries
are blurring, and we'll each have to decide when every
cell is quickly reproducible, when what was previously sacred can

(35:22):
be commoditized. What is the table we're going to set
for ourselves. If anyone is miraculously listening to this old,
archived podcast in one hundred years from now, please let
my descendants know if any of today's predictions panned out
or not, And if so, I hope you'll raise a
toast and celebrate at one of your weird futuristic barbecues.

Speaker 2 (35:51):
You know to.

Speaker 1 (35:51):
Eagleman dot com slash podcast for more information and to
find further reading. Join the weekly discussions on my substack
and check out some ribed Inner Cosmos on YouTube for
videos of each episode and to leave comments. Until next time,
I'm David Eagleman, and this is Inner Cosmos
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David Eagleman

David Eagleman

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