Managers often entertain wealthy clients, but James Arrowood’s conversations are also about life, death and what comes after. As CEO of the Alcor Life Extension Foundation, a non-profit organization based in Scottsdale, Ariz specializing in cryonics-the practice of freezing human bodies, heads and even pets in the hope that future generations might do it one day they revived-oversees a membership of about 1,600 people who pay more than $100 a month, and about $220,000 in total body care or $80,000 in neurological care (just to stop the head), a group he says includes about 10 percent of the world’s 50 richest people.
“I talk to billionaires when they die,” he told the Observer. “None of them care about the money left in the bank, they don’t even know how much money they have… It’s about relationships, and it’s about their legacy.”
The desire to escape death is very popular in Silicon Valley, where billions have been poured into anti-aging and life-extending startups. Alcor, founded in 1972 by engineer Fred Chamberlain and his wife Linda, calls itself the “OG” of the long-term business, according to Arrowood, a former attorney who started as a general foreign lawyer before becoming CEO in 2022. “There’s a lot of money starting up stealth-mode companies in an attractive space,” he said. “They’re pulling in tens of millions of dollars, hundreds of millions of dollars now—and they’re way behind.”
Here’s how Alcor’s process works: when a member dies, the Organizational Dispatch and Recovery Team (DART)—which Arrowood has expanded to include retired special forces members—move quickly to transport the body to its base in Arizona. There, patients are infused with a cryoprotective solution, cooled in liquid nitrogen and kept in large Dewar tanks under constant monitoring. Alcor currently has 250 cryopreserved patients, including founder Fred Chamberlain, who was cryopreserved in 2012.
Tech founders, investors and celebrities have all bought into the idea. Peter Thiel is reportedly a member of Alcor, as is composer Ray Kurzweil and producer Steve Aoki. User service fees accounted for about 40 percent of Alcor’s $4 billion in 2024 revenue, according to its most recent tax filing, with the rest coming from donations and investment income.
Whether that money has been well spent is hotly debated. “I can count the number of neuroscientists who think this whole concept is serious on the other side,” Michael Hendricks, associate professor of neurobiology at McGill University, told the Observer. “I think Alcor is profiting from it: there’s a great market for techno-sounding magic beans to sell to rich people.”
No one has ever been revived from cryopreservation. James Bedford, the first person to freeze in 1967, remains under the care of Alcor after being transferred there in the 1980s. Arrowood admits that bringing people back is an aspirational goal rather than the organization’s primary goal. “Some people hope that will be the result, but that’s a lottery ticket,” he said. Instead, he emphasizes applications such as keeping donated organs, such as kidneys, working longer. “That’s what I’m trying to accomplish before I die.”
Who are the members of Alcor?
The super-rich account for nearly 20 percent of Alcor’s membership. The other 80 percent include scientists, artists and athletes, said Arrowood, who noted that many fund their programs by naming Alcor as beneficiaries of their life insurance policies. Now he is focused on reaching more women, who make up only about one-third of the members, a gap he puts on men who show more self-esteem motivation.
Arrowood is a member himself—he calls himself a “neuro,” having chosen to save only his head. All board members and senior executives at Alcor are registered. “They want people to be motivated by conservation.”
Interest from the tech elite is part of a broader expansion of investing in longevity. The richest figures are four 5 billion dollars have been poured into this sector in the last 25 yearsaccording to a Wall Street Journal analysis. OpenAI CEO Sam Altman has backed Retro Biosciences, which aims to extend human life by a decade, while Amazon founder Jeff Bezos has funded Altos Labs, a biotech company focused on anti-aging. Thiel donated millions to the Methuselah Foundation.
Alcor, on the other hand, has competition in cryonics itself. Cryonics Institute Michigan has more than 2,000 members worldwide. New entrants include Berlin-based Tomorrow Bio and San Francisco-based Until Labs, which last year raised 5 million euros ($5.8 million) and $58 million, respectively, the latter in a round led by Thiel’s Founders Fund.
Arrowood says Alcor’s long history gives it an advantage that money alone can’t buy. The nonprofit, unlike the new business, has decades of data on what bodies look like after long-term cryopreservation. “They don’t have it, and they can’t buy it,” he said of would-be competitors, some of whom he said had tried to acquire Alcor — which did not start because of its non-profit status.
He also warns that emotional realities and cryonics programs can surprise managers who see only financial opportunity. “I’ve had mothers cry about their child, and you have 20 minutes to find that body,” Arrowood said. “If you’re a business person, you’re not going to deal with that.”
For him, that toughness is just part of the job. His days can include anything from driving a billionaire client to visiting underground mines in Europe, where Alcor—which recently launched a sister operation in Canada—is eyeing further expansion. “The strangest job on Earth,” he said.
