Whether he’s in a high-tech lab or wandering forest trails, US mycologist Morgan Rockwell treats mushrooms like circuit boards, transforming mycelium into self-growing computers, environmental sensors and even stewards of our planet. Drawing on decades of bioengineering, dreams of space exploration and indigenous wisdom, he shows that fungi aren’t just dinner or medicine but Earth’s oldest, most expansive life form and they could reshape our future both here and out among the stars.
When most of us picture mushrooms, we imagine portobello burgers or the red-and-white Amanita muscaria straight out of a fairytale. But beneath our feet sprawls a secret network so vast it could rival the Internet. Morgan Rockwell, a computer scientist turned fungal pioneer, calls this web “Earth’s brain” and bets mycelium will become humanity’s most adaptable material – from eco-friendly building blocks to living circuit boards.
Rockwell’s curiosity was sparked early by National Geographic and Popular Mechanics. By day, he tinkered with electronics; by night, he roamed forest trails. “I’d stare at those old copper circuit boards,” he recalls, “and later I realized mycelium could act like a living wire – or even a brain cell.” That eureka moment led him to found MycoSoft, the startup behind the world’s first fungal computer interfaces.
At the beginning, there was a Shroom
Why fungi? Rockwell points out that after volcanic eruptions or meteor strikes, it’s fungi that transform barren rock into fertile soil. “In a way, all our dirt began with fungus,” he says. Some even speculate that life itself arrived on comet-borne spores. Today, fungi make up 60 percent of Earth’s biomass. If they ever turned hostile, it could spell disaster for billions of species – but if we partner with them, they might just help us reach Mars.
Central to Rockwell’s work is the fact that fungi were recently (finally!) given their own kingdom – “funga,” alongside flora and fauna. “Words shape how we see the world,” he argues. Without a proper term for fungi, they’ve been left off grant applications, public conversations and supermarket shelves. That’s changing: mushroom coffees, cordyceps supplements and mycology courses are popping up across North America, bringing fungi into everyday life.
A mushroom that grows you a new brain
Rockwell highlights two mushrooms that showcase this potential. First is Hericium erinaceus, or lion’s mane, which looks more like a cascade of white fur than a typical toadstool. Its extracts boost nerve growth and support neurogenesis. “I believe everyone could benefit from a daily dose of lion’s mane,” Rockwell says. “It supports nerve health, sharpens the mind and even helps with sleep.” Imagine stirring its powder into your cereal, baby formula or pet food.
The other superstar is the oyster mushroom. Available in white, yellow, pink or blue, it thrives on dead wood and agricultural waste. Beyond its protein-rich gills, oyster mycelium can break down oil spills and microplastics. Rockwell envisions oyster beds encircling industrial sites – snacking on heavy metals and plastics, then turning toxic runoff into simple sugars. Later, we could harvest and burn the spent blocks to recover precious metals for electronics.
Mycelium isn’t just for cleanup or circuits. It’s already showing up in meatless burgers, vegan leather, eco-friendly building materials and compostable packaging. “Pick the right fungus for the job,” Rockwell advises. “Some fungi mimic rubber; others act like concrete or plastic. Then when you’re done, nature reabsorbs it all.” In a world of limited resources, mushrooms could transform how we manufacture everything.
Reading brain waves of Fungi
MycoSoft’s flagship gadget looks like a robotic toadstool on stilts. A probe plunges into forest soil, inviting mycelium to wrap around it and link up with the Internet. From there, Rockwell’s team reads the fungus’s electrical signals, its so-called “brain waves”, which shift in response to moisture, chemicals, light or threats like fire and pollution.
By collecting millions of these signals across various species, they teach AI to match patterns with specific environmental events. “If a lightning bolt at three volts zaps the block, we see a unique signature,” Rockwell explains. “If fire or potassium salt shows up, we get another.” Over time, networks of these mycelial sensors could predict wildfires, track earthquakes or monitor soil health more cheaply and sustainably than satellites.
Rockwell’s ambitions don’t stop there. What if we could actually talk to mushrooms? His lab built a robotic “leg” that fungus can steer – to sample spores or reposition sensors – and an AI “voice” that translates electrical outputs into sounds. “Could mushrooms tell us what they’re thinking?” he wonders.
The hidden side of curious mushrooms – sentience
That question raises big ideas about consciousness. Could a sprawling mycelial network feel or think? Indigenous cultures have long recognized sentience in trees and fungi, and modern neuroscience and AI push those boundaries further. Rockwell believes language is key – “there’s no ‘I’ without the word ‘me,’” he says – so giving fungal networks a vocabulary might usher in a new era of Earth’s self-aware organism.
His vision reads like greenest science fiction: cities draped in living walls, computers grown instead of built, ecosystems that manage themselves through fungal smarts. But this future carries responsibility. “If we ignore fungi,” he cautions, “that could be when they turn us into zombies”, a playful nod to classic mushroom horror tales.
MycoSoft is inviting citizen scientists to join in. Their open-source GitHub hosts code for data-loggers, and a decentralized MycoDAO funds community research. You might spot their white sensor buoys winding through Redwood forests or dotting reclaimed strip mines, quietly mapping Earth’s underground intelligence.
As the planet grapples with plastic waste, climate change and dwindling minerals, Rockwell and his fungal collaborators offer a hopeful path forward: ditch fossil fuels in favor of living networks. Those silent, sprawling underworlds, once hidden or feared- are ready to become our stewards, our healers, our building blocks and maybe even our co-pilots among the stars. “I work for the mushroom,” Rockwell says. “It has its own agenda, and I’m thrilled to carry its message.”