Chapter 4: Cryonics is for me, but...

Is this a scam that exploits desperate people?

By
Alessia Casali
November 17, 2025

Let's be honest: when you first hear about cryopreservation, it sounds exactly like something scammers would invent. Promise people they won't really die, charge them money for decades, never have to prove it works because the results are always in some distant future. We get it. Your skepticism is completely reasonable.

So let's address this directly. Is Tomorrow.bio a scam that exploits people's fear of death?

What actual scams look like

Real medical scams have certain patterns. They promise certainty where none exists. They pressure you to decide quickly. They want large upfront payments. They operate in the shadows without transparency. They discourage questions and independent research.

Now look at how we operate. We're explicitly clear that cryopreservation is unproven. We tell you repeatedly that revival depends on future technology that may never exist. We don't promise anything is guaranteed. Our website, our materials, our conversations with potential members—we emphasize uncertainty constantly.

We encourage you to research for months if you need to. Take your time. Ask questions. Visit the facility. Talk to skeptics. We don't rush anyone. There's no artificial urgency or pressure tactics.

The payment structure is the opposite of a scam. You don't pay a huge sum upfront. You pay modest monthly membership fees and arrange life insurance that only pays out when you die. If we were scamming you, we'd want your money immediately. Instead, we receive the largest payment just before providing the preservation service.

The "desperate people" question

Does cryopreservation address people's fear of death? Of course it does. But so does all of medicine. Hospitals serve people desperate to avoid illness. Pharmaceutical companies serve people afraid of disease. The entire healthcare industry exists because people desperately want to stay alive and healthy.

The question isn't whether we're serving people who want to avoid death. The question is whether we're being honest about what we can deliver. And we are. We're upfront that we cannot guarantee revival. We're preserving biological structure hoping that future technology will enable restoration. We're explicit about the massive uncertainty involved. This is the opposite of exploitative scams that promise miracles while hiding risks.

What we're actually promising

We're not promising revival. We're not promising that future technology will definitely exist. We're promising to preserve you as carefully as possible using the best available methods, maintain secure long-term storage, and operate transparently with genuine intent to eventually enable revival if technology advances sufficiently.

That's a much more limited promise than "you'll definitely live forever." And it's a promise we can actually deliver on right now. The preservation quality, the storage security, the organizational transparency, these are things you can verify today.

Why people want to call it a scam

For some skeptics, calling cryopreservation a scam is psychologically comfortable. If it's obviously fraudulent, they don't have to engage with uncomfortable questions about their own mortality or whether they should consider preservation.

The scam narrative lets you dismiss the whole thing without deeper thought. You're not the person afraid of death or too conventional to try something new, you're just smart enough to see through obvious fraud. It's protective rather than analytical.

But this prevents honest evaluation. Cryopreservation might be a longshot. It might be unlikely to work. It might not be the right choice for you. But those are different conclusions from "it's a scam."

Conclusion

Here's what we actually are: a legitimate medical operation providing real preservation services with real infrastructure, being honest about massive uncertainty, operating transparently.

Whether cryopreservation is worth the cost given the uncertain benefit depends on your personal values. But it's not fraud. It's a genuine attempt to solve mortality through technological means, with all the uncertainty and difficulty that implies.

You can decide preservation isn't worth it for you. You can conclude the probability of success is too low. You can find other objections. Those are all reasonable positions.

But calling it a scam requires ignoring substantial evidence of legitimacy in favor of surface-level pattern matching. Come visit the facility. Meet the team. See the operations. Then decide for yourself whether this looks like fraud or like serious people attempting something genuinely difficult.