Sustainable Science with a Side of Cod
While in a small fishing town on my trip to Iceland, I went on a kayaking tour to experience the massive fjords from the water. I learned that the town—whose population triples every time a cruise ship docks—was home to one of the most important innovations in saving human lives and treating burn wounds: Icelandic Atlantic cod skin.
Turns out, cod skin is uniquely structured to mimic human skin. It’s packed with collagen, free from diseases that could transmit to humans, and the human body doesn’t reject it, making it perfect for treating burn victims. The Icelandic company that developed this treatment, Kerecis, processes the skin, removes all fish cells and DNA (patented process called EnviroIntact™, which includes a decellularization step), sterilizes it, and then applies it like a second skin over wounds. Patients heal faster with reduced dressing frequency and with less pain, and often need fewer skin grafts, sometimes even saving their lives.
We actually discovered Kerecis through an ad at the Keflavic International Airport (KEF), the main airport in Iceland, when we landed. It turns out the company began after a man named Pétur Oddsson suffered a severe burn injury while repairing a power station. His remarkable recovery using cod skin became the catalyst for Kerecis’ founding.
While I came to Iceland with hopes of seeing fjords, volcanoes, and glaciers, I came to learn the unexpected: a newfound respect for one of the most unassuming creatures fueling both local economies and global healing. In fact, cod and the broader fishing industry are so vital to Iceland that the country chose not to adopt the Euro, partly to retain control over its exclusive fishing zones and protect its marine resources.
Something so common in the North Atlantic, gliding beneath icy waters without fanfare, turned out to be pivotal in modern medicine. Cod skin isn’t just a fluke alternative. It’s actually better suited than other options for healing. It’s rich in omega-3 fatty acids, highly durable, and uniquely compatible with human tissue. Because cod live in cold, deep waters, their skin develops without parasites or disease risks common in warmer marine species, making it especially safe and effective as a wound treatment. The other marine alternative is tilapia (warm-water fish) skin, but it has more parasite risk. Another common alternative is pig skin, but it may be prone to immune rejection. Though there are several synthetic substitutes, few match the healing simplicity of cold-water cod skin.
Ironically, despite cod being one of Iceland’s most important exports, we couldn’t find any to eat while we were there; it all gets shipped out, fueling a valuable economy for the coastal villages. Then, back home after a dive in Monterey, we walked into a pub and saw Icelandic cod fish fillets on the menu. Apparently, we had to leave Iceland to taste Icelandic cod, a strange, serendipitous kind of full circle.
It’s genuinely inspiring that an ordinary fish, often seen as just another fillet, could be repurposed to save lives. That kind of radical reuse challenges how we think about sustainability, innovation, and even resilience. A reminder that what’s overlooked may actually be indispensable.
To learn more about Kerecis and its story, check out the Amazon Prime Video episode of Now Go Build, featuring the company.
