Throughout history, people have found ways to stay connected to loved ones who have died. They visit gravesites, tuck away personal belongings, create shrines, and sometimes perform elaborate rituals that involve food, song, and dance.
Now, digital technology is altering the way people think about death—and how they process sorrow. A growing array of grief apps aim to deliver resources and support during difficult times. Chatbots and ultrarealistic AI-generated avatars of the deceased enable the living to engage and interact with a digital version of the dead.
“We have reached a point where digital likenesses appear remarkably realistic,” said Hossein Rahnama, a professor at MIT Media Lab and at Toronto Metropolitan University, who has conducted extensive research in the space.
All of this raises some intriguing and sometimes disturbing questions. Are chatbots and AI avatars healthy for the bereaved? Can these apps prolong the emotional pain? And what are the ethical and legal issues that revolve around private data, likenesses, consent, and the monetization of apps?
“In some cases, digital technology that deals with death and bereavement may seem strange or creepy. But it is merely an extension of human interactions that date back to the beginning of humanity,” said Michael Graziano, professor of psychology and neuroscience at Princeton University. “Oftentimes, these resources offer a safe space to deal with pain and emotions.”
Death Goes Live
Every culture creates customs and traditions to honor the deceased. In Mexico, Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) is a two-day holiday that allows the living to connect to family members through food and memories. Japan’s Obon festival offers a way for families to welcome the spirits of ancestors through altars, lanterns, and dance. In Nepal, Gai Jatra celebrates through dancing, singing, and laughter those who have died during the previous year.
Graziano believes apps and AI don’t destroy the rituals surrounding grief; they merely adapt them to the digital age. While skeptics paint digital tools as barriers to genuine human connection, Graziano sees a different truth: “Technology is simply another way—a more modern and accessible tool—for processing grief,” he said.
Indeed, AI is bringing new resources to life. For example, apps like Empathy and Untangle establish communities where people can interact, share experiences, and receive emotional support. Others, such as Replika and ChatGPT, can learn to mimic a deceased person’s conversational style. Still others, like HereAfter, incorporate voice recordings to create an interactive AI embodiment of the person. With the app, a person can have ongoing conversations with the deceased.
Not surprisingly, video and AI are also entering the picture. For example, StoryFile and You, Only Virtual generate ultra-realistic interactive AI avatars of the living and the dead. They capture real-life expressions, mannerisms, accents, and more. This makes it possible for a person to speak at his or her own funeral, and for significant others to interact with loved ones after death, either through a screen or virtual reality. AI chatbots built into these apps remember conversations and evolve.
Yet, while large language models (LLMs) and other forms of AI can support life-like representations of people, there’s a sticking point, Rahnama said. At present, most users find these tools somewhat unconvincing because they are unable to replicate the spectrum of thoughts and behaviors the actual person would display. “The avatar can’t move beyond speech and appearance and achieve an emotional connection,” he noted.
In the years ahead, advances in digital technology and AI will likely address that issue, Rahnama said. A more fully immersive experience and richer data sets, something he has explored in his Augmented Eternity and Swappable Identifies project, could tap into virtual reality, haptics, and other sensory inputs to allow people to walk in other’s shoes and share thoughts, emotions, and experiences in a more profound way.
Grave Consequences?
There’s no single way humans process death, of course. A risk of using LLMs and other AI tools to aid in bereavement is that these systems hallucinate and occasionally go off the rails. “There are ethical questions about how these systems work, what companies are selling, and what could happen if AI magnifies the risks associated with grieving a death that has complicated circumstances,” said Carla Sofka, a professor of social work at Siena College and a pioneer in the field of digital grief.
Because apps and AI chatbots often operate as a so-called black box—there’s little or no transparency into how, exactly, they operate—questions also arise about how companies selling these services design algorithms and what incentives exist to monetize bereavement at the expense of users. How a company uses or sells highly personal data is another issue. “Is the focus empathetic value or only monetary value?” Rahnama asked.
Rahnama is exploring ways people can own and share digital assets. This includes ways to gain greater control over digital identity and who has the rights to likenesses, data, and other personal information. An encrypted data structure, called Chronicles, would allow users control their information in life and death. “There are currently a lot of unresolved legal and practical questions about how a person’s data can be used by others after they die,” he said.
Good Grief
Meanwhile, the Digital Legacy Association in the U.K. is attempting to raise awareness of digital asset planning globally. Although some social media sites have established basic methods for managing and passing on data for the deceased, rapidly expanding digital footprints make it increasingly difficult for the dead to control how, where, and when their likenesses and data characteristics appear after they are gone. The organization’s founder, James Norris, believes that sufficient planning can reduce distress that results when data winds up lost or deleted.
For now, digital legacy apps remain in their early days. Sofka and Norris, as part of an upcoming Digital Death Survey, found that only 13% of people surveyed were interested in creating digital avatars and likenesses that would exist after their death. Most expressed ambivalence, or found the idea of “digital reanimation” distasteful.
Or course, attitudes and values change—and almost every new technology encounters some level of resistance. “There tends to be a bias toward thinking that digital technology is a hinderance to processing grief and it’s better to interact with humans,” Graziano said. “However, there’s no evidence to support this belief. People look for comfort in different ways and digital technology can deliver a useful tool for dealing with death and bereavement.”
Samuel Greengard is an author and journalist based in West Linn, OR, USA.
