From flat sheet to skyward canopy: a new take on parachutes
Researchers at Polytechnique Montreal have devised a novel parachute concept inspired by kirigami—the Japanese art of folding and cutting paper to create three-dimensional designs. The team, led by mechanical engineering professor Frédérick Gosselin and colleague David Mélançon, published their findings in Nature this week, highlighting a path to ultra-low-cost, recyclable parachutes suitable for a range of missions from humanitarian aid to atmospheric science.
The core idea is elegantly simple: begin with a flat sheet, cut a carefully chosen pattern, and allow the sheet to unfold into a functional parachute as it descends. This approach leverages kirigami’s ability to morph flat material into three-dimensional structures with precision. In practice, the team demonstrated that you can produce a parachute from inexpensive materials — even a sheet of paper or cardboard — and still achieve a stable, controlled descent.
“So you probably made snowflakes with your kids around Christmas — you fold paper, you cut it, and when you unfold it, you get this pattern,” explains Gosselin. The practical demonstration used bristol board from a dollar store to show that the concept can work with everyday materials. The researchers emphasize that the value lies not just in cost savings, but in potential recyclability and biodegradability of these kirigami parachutes.
How kirigami shapes a parachute that can be cheap and scalable
The design is intentionally flat, with a laser-cut pattern that unfolds into a canopy once deployed. One barrier the team confronted is the machinery: their laser cutter costs tens of thousands of dollars and each parachute currently takes about 25 minutes to produce, with the system’s two-by-three-foot working area limiting scale. Still, the study reveals a key property: the parachute’s behavior remains consistent as its size changes, implying that the concept is scalable to larger diameters without altering its descent characteristics. This scalability is crucial for real-world use, where larger payloads or longer flight times may be required.
Beyond the physics, the project offers a practical advantage — reduced material losses during aerial drops and lower manufacturing complexity. The kirigami pattern acts as a blueprint for controlled deployment, guiding the canopy to open predictably and descend in a relatively straight path with minimal drift. For engineers, this means the possibility of tailoring parachutes to specific missions without the heavy costs typically associated with traditional fabric prototypes.
Potential uses and real-world impact
Gosselin envisions multiple applications that could benefit from inexpensive, scalable parachutes: drone delivery with lower per-unit costs, humanitarian airdrops in resource-constrained settings, and even the use of on-board sensors during extreme weather events such as hurricanes. In field campaigns, kirigami parachutes could carry lightweight instruments to gather atmospheric data across different altitudes, enabling researchers to map properties of storms in new ways. The ability to scale the design while preserving performance suggests a flexible platform for both small-scale experiments and larger payloads.
The broader significance lies in reimagining a classic technology through an art-inspired lens. As the Nature article notes, this work points to new possibilities for traditional manufacturing by marrying a centuries-old craft with modern engineering and materials science. The researchers emphasize that, while promising, the Kirigami parachute is still in fundamental research territory.
Challenges, milestones, and the road ahead
Two years in the making, the project formed the centerpiece of Danick Lamoureux’s master’s thesis, which earned Polytechnique’s best master’s dissertation award for 2024. The work was supported by a Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada grant that funded Lamoureux’s travel to École Polytechnique in Paris to test designs in a different setting. Looking forward, Gosselin and his team plan to refine kirigami patterns to improve descent behavior, enable controlled rotation, and even incorporate sensors or cameras to scan surroundings during flight.
Several practical hurdles remain before these parachutes can be mass-produced or deployed in field operations. Manufacturing at scale, ensuring consistent pattern quality, and validating performance across diverse environments are essential. The researchers acknowledge that, while the Kirigami parachute could someday support space exploration or other extreme contexts, there are substantial challenges to adapting the technology to Mars-like atmospheres or supersonic entry conditions.
Conclusion: a novel fusion of art and engineering
By turning kirigami from a decorative craft into a framework for parachute design, Polytechnique Montreal’s team has opened a pathway toward affordable, adaptable aerial technologies. The concept’s blend of simplicity, recyclability, and potential for scalability positions kirigami parachutes as a compelling area for ongoing research and future field trials. As academics and engineers continue to explore pattern libraries and material choices, the sky may soon host a new class of parachutes born from paper, precision, and possibility.
