Family holidays often come with an empty chair where grandpa used to sit, or moments when mom’s weekly phone calls have stopped. Dealing with the loss of a loved one is, without a doubt, one of life’s toughest experiences…
New startups in AI are creating job opportunities. Instead of a final farewell, there’s the option to simply “keep talking.”
While digital avatars might look like the deceased, they lack the capacity to love and be loved.
In China, tech firms are developing interactive avatars named “digital revival.” Unlike static images or pre-recorded messages, these avatars are highly realistic AI deepfakes that can respond verbally and visually, mimicking real conversations. For a fee of about 20 yuan (around $3), those grieving can “bring back” their loved ones in this digital format.
Digitizing the dead is becoming a lucrative business. The Guardian has suggested that this market could value around 12 billion yuan (or $1.7 billion), with projections to quadruple by 2025. Zhang Zewei, who founded one of the pioneering companies, Shanghai-based Super Brain, has charged up to $1,400 to create a digital likeness of someone who has passed away.
Even funeral homes in China are seizing this economic opportunity by promoting the concept of “reviving” the deceased in a virtual format. This might include audio recordings, emails, and avatars that facilitate conversation with deceased family members based on old photographs.
The emergence of such technology is not surprising. AI utilizes various digital materials (like texts, audio notes, and photos) to create these eerily lifelike avatars. However, it’s remarkable to see how popular this technology has become, particularly among younger demographics.
A survey by the Christian think tank Theos revealed that about 14% of young respondents found comfort in interacting with digital versions of their loved ones. Interestingly, the preference to engage with these avatars seems to increase with the youth’s age.
Ethics of digital mourning
While developers like Zewei advocate the therapeutic potential of such technology, psychologists have raised concerns about possible detrimental effects.
Creating digital immortality might foster psychological reliance, potentially obstructing genuine emotional closure. In an article by Harriet Sherwood from The Guardian, Michael Chorbi from the University of Edinburgh—dubbed the “Sad Philosopher”—cautions that these “deathbots” might disrupt the grieving process, leading to an avoidance of reality. Louise Richardson, a grief expert at York University, points out that these digital avatars could hinder the acceptance of loss.
This is particularly concerning given the significant presence of young users in this market.
Grief is not a product
Throughout history, societies have developed ways to cope with loss, whether through photographs, keepsakes, letters, or memorials. Grief is meant to be endured, not brushed aside. The everyday integration of AI into mourning poses the risk of substituting genuine memories with mere illusions.
These companies may argue they’re offering comfort—or perhaps even have noble intentions—but in reality, they’re commercializing grief and delaying closure.
Grief teaches us to appreciate life more and to cherish loved ones while we have them. Digital avatars mirror the deceased, but they are incapable of genuine love. In trying to replicate human connection, we may overlook the essence of who the person truly was and diminish the significance of saying goodbye. The pain of loss isn’t merely a bug to be fixed; it’s a reflection of love. Ultimately, love—not illusion—is what we should hold onto.
