How I learned to live forever

How I learned to live forever

Say goodbye to having to die.
Say goodbye to having to die.

When my grandmother passed away this year, I was devastated. She may have been in her late 80s, but her sunny personality and boundless energy made it seem like she’d would probably just live forever.

My grandma was what you’d call a “silver surfer.” From the moment she inherited her daughter’s old laptop, she embraced the internet like a digital native. It wasn’t long before we were helping her set up a Facebook profile which she used to happily spend hours sharing cute animals videos and writing us sweet messages ALWAYS WRITTEN ENTIRELY IN CAPS. I gave up explaining to her that this amounted to constant shouting. She liked it that way.

A few months after she’d passed away, I was a bit shocked to see her picture pop up in my notifications, reminding me that it was her birthday. I hadn’t forgotten, but it saddened me to imagine other family members whose grief was still very raw receiving similar messages. I had thought—perhaps naively—that since Facebook knew enough about my life and habits to bombard me with targeted advertisements it would also know my grandmother was no longer with us. But the bots didn’t have a clue.

I looked up the procedure to report a death to Facebook, and requested that her account be “memorialized.” This means that nobody can log in to the account again, but her posts remain visible to the people they were originally shared with, and friends and family can continue to share memories on her timeline. I wanted to digitally preserve the memory of my grandmother.

After making my request I almost immediately received a response from someone in Facebook’s community operations team asking me to send them her death certificate. Their response struck me as strange and insensitive—like I was making it up for some reason. Since I didn’t have that document (my grandmother lived in Brazil and I didn’t handle the funeral arrangements), I argued that they should be able to verify her passing through the evidence available on their own platform. Facebook eventually agreed, but I can’t say it was a particularly pleasant process.

Technology is currently challenging our conceptualization of what it means to live—and die.“The tech industry is not really up on death,” says Stacey Pitsillides, a design lecturer at the University of Greenwich who is a PhD candidate in the field of data contextualization in digital death. Since starting her research several years ago, Pitsillides says she’s witnessed a remarkable shift: People are becoming increasingly eager to immortalize personal experiences online, just as I had felt after my grandmother’s passing.

This observation prompted her to set up Love After Death, a panel showcased at FutureFest in London to help people explore how technology is becoming integrated into new forms of creative expressions around death and dying. I met Pitsillides at FutureFest, a festival of ideas sponsored by innovation charity NESTA, to discuss the concept of digital legacies.

Technology is currently challenging our conceptualization of what it means to live—and die. Pitsillides believes that technology and design will play an increasingly important role in the process of morning, which she calls “creative bereavement.” “By creating a bespoke legacy agreement, it merges the concept of a design agency with funeral director,” she said.

To illustrate this, Pitsillides started by taking me through a questionnaire that asked me things ranging from the practical (which loved ones should be informed of my death, and would I like to setup a database of music, art, or poetry to be used at my funeral?) to the weird and outlandish (would my friends like to do an online vigil through live webcasting where I could be present via hologram, and how about having a memorial implant or tattoo?)

But wait—holograms? Memorial implants? Was this for real?

In the future, yes.

Death by Design

“You could have a surface-level or below-skin digital tattoo that could be matched to that of a loved one,” Pitsillides explained. Using simple technologies, you could add content to these digital mementos throughout your life and then have them activated after your death. This activation could either be triggered by the executor of your will—over 19 US states have already put forward laws to recognize the deceased’s digital legacy as part of their estate—or we could evolve AI systems to recognize cues when this should happen. At that point, certain content could become available to the people you’d predetermined, depending on the stipulations you left in your digital will.

It’s basically the futuristic, high-tech version of wearing half of your lover’s heart-shaped locket. These tattoos and implants could even be programmed to trigger only in the context of certain events. For example, when walking past the special spot where a now-passed husband proposed to his wife, his widow’s digital tattoo could change color or bloom into the pattern of her favorite flower, and “their” song could start playing on her phone. Or a father could still “be there” to deliver the speech at his daughter’s wedding via hologram, or greet the arrival of his first grandchild with a pre-recorded message.

An increasingly popular service is using 3D printing to create personalized mementos for your friends and family using human ashes.While these memorialization usages are still conceptual, the technology itself is already fairly mature. For example, we already have technology that allows for smart epidermal electronics to collect and record information about users, reacting to this data in a wide variety of programmable ways: Think of IoT devices like Dexcom that continuously monitor glucose levels for diabetes patients, allowing them to track their blood sugar via apps linked to wearables like the Apple Watch. Instead of being focused on what our minds and bodies are doing in the present moment, these tactile technologies could help us build and enhance connections with people both during life and after death.

As more people embrace the idea that death in the digital age is not just about looking back at the past, they will begin to realize that it’s just as much about the future. We’re already seeing people grapple with this concept in terms of what happens to our bodies after we die. Nowadays your ashes can be turned into building blocks for a coral reef or a beautiful fireworks display, but there’s a whole other after-world emerging courtesy of technology. For example, an increasingly popular service is using 3D printing to create personalized mementos for your friends and family using human ashes.

The Talking Dead

Since such a large percentage of our lives and interactions are now conducted online, we are constantly forced to reassess our meaning of self and identity. Is our online identity the most accurate reflection of our true selves? And, if so, can it “live” independently from our physical bodies?

The answer is potentially yes. The connections we build and share can—now quite literally—take on a life of their own. For example, websites like LifeNaut offer services that allow you to create a “mind file” that supposedly enables future scenarios around reanimation through “downloading” your memories to a robot or clone vessel of some sort. We might not yet be at the stage where robotics and AI enable the Black Mirror scenario where life-like replicants of loved ones can be created from their social media profiles. But it’s no exaggeration to say that, for better or for worse, our digital footprint already outlives our biological self.

“We are moving toward a society where the dead are not banished but remain present in our lives as sources of guidance, role models, and as an embodiment of particular values and life lessons,” Pitsillides said.

But is that what we really want? The ability to live forever through technology raises difficult questions such as whether it is our memories that make us who we are, whether our loved ones would accept this “new” version of us, and who should control consent to make these kinds of decisions after death. This kind of permanence may be appealing for some, but for others the possibility of a digital presence continuously and independently evolving is quite disturbing.

Most of us avoid thinking about our own mortality until it stares us in the face. As someone who spends most of my time online, I’m unsettled by this idea of not being in control of my online persona once I die—even if I wouldn’t be in a position to care, at that point. But having experienced the enduring joy that my grandmother’s Facebook memories have brought to our family, it makes me think that my digital legacy is something worth preserving. And now I have the first steps to know how to do just that.

You can follow Alice on Twitter at @AliceBonasio. We welcome your comments at

Identity Theft Safeguard

Identity Theft Safeguard

Identity Theft Safeguard

Protecting Digital Assets

In addition to dealing with the emotional upheaval when someone dies, we all have a digital footprint that needs to be removed. Each of us that is even somewhat active online, has a lot of private information out there including: address history, birth date, financial institutions, social security numbers and other detailed information. Digital Assets include all your accounts where you may have uploaded photos, music or movies. Don’t forget there are credit cards or bank accounts that are associated with all online and social media accounts.

Removing this information is important to keeping your loved one’s information private. When heirs have possession of all the data, images, music etc. it ensures wishes are followed.

A key part of good estate planning now includes digital assets. There are a confusing amount of online agreements as well as state and local laws that may prevent heirs from closing these accounts.

These digital assets need to be organized and categorized. They include: computers and devices, email accounts, social media, online business accounts including shopping and media accounts where you may store pictures and videos.

Many of us immediately jump to the media, we want to preserve the family and personal images that are out there. As part of planning, you may want to designate who should be charged with getting the media off line and where it is stored. You can create a private backup such as a personal hard drive or create a backup account where your heir is a co-owner.

Online accounts have terms of service that may discuss what happens in the event of death. These vary according to the provider and where you live. Facebook, Yahoo and others have a procedure to follow. The procedures may not be easy.

It is imperative to have a will and to include digital assets in that will. Name a person to have access to your accounts and give clear instructions on how you want things handled. Your Estate Planning Professionals can help prepare and making sure your personal information is protected and handled in the manner you have outlined.

Note from Deb: Identity Theft of the deceased is big business. The identities of nearly 2.5 million deceased Americans are used to open credit card accounts, apply for loans and get cellphone services. (Source: Protecting the dead from identity theft)

Disclaimer: The material in this blog is for educational purposes only. It is not intended to replace, nor does it replace, consulting with a physician, lawyer, accountant, financial planner or other qualified professional.

USB drive CryptoTestament will protect your digital legacy

Death in the Digital Age: Mylennium Launches Online “Digital Estate Assessment”

Mylennium’s new Digital Estate Assessment is available at It easily and quickly helps people understand their digital footprint, so they can determine and plan how they want digital assets handled when they pass on.

The new Digital Estate Assessment, which is available on the Mylennium website at, asks respondents to check a series of boxes indicating whether a statement is applicable or inapplicable across four categories: personal digital assets, financial digital assets, professional digital assets, and technical digital assets. Examples of statements include:

· “I use email to communicate with family, friends, and business.”
· “I maintain an electronic address book to store personal and professional contact information.”
· “I want some of my digital photos and videos to be distributed to multiple family members.”

In total there are 33 statements across the above-noted four categories, and completing the assessment takes approximately five minutes. Once finished, respondents enter their email address, click “finish,” and instantly receive a .PDF report via email that:

· Highlights all of their responses so they can confirm accuracy, as well as forward the report as desired.
· Provides an explanation of potential risks that a personal representative may face with respect to locating and settling the assets in their digital estate.
· Serves as a starting point for discussions with trusted family members, an estate executor, or an estate planning professional.
· Offers specific steps on how they can protect their digital estate.
· Features a glossary of important, yet potentially unfamiliar terms such as “Digital Asset,” “Digital Estate Plan,” “Digital Executor,” “Digital Asset Authorization,” and several more.

Respondents are not asked to provide any personal or sensitive data, and Mylennium does not disclose email address lists or other information to any third parties.

“Helping people understand their digital footprint, and the undesirable things that can happen to their digital assets, is a key benefit offered by our Digital Estate Assessment,” commented Russ Haft, the Founder and Chief Digital Executor of Mylennium, which has been featured in The New York Times. “With this information in hand, they’ll be better equipped to have a meaningful conversation with family members and an estate planning professional about the value of their digital assets, and how they want each asset handled when they pass on.”

As noted above, Mylennium’s new complimentary online Digital Estate Assessment is available on the company’s website at

For all other information, including media requests and inquiries from estate planning professionals, contact

About Mylennium

Mylennium creates personalized digital estate plans that document how individuals would like their digital assets handled by a personal representative upon their death or incapacity. Mylennium was founded in 2015 by Russ Haft to bring traditional estate planning into the digital age. Mylennium also provides Digital Executor Consulting Services to support fiduciaries in their efforts to locate, manage, and settle digital assets in a decedent or incapable person’s estate. For more information, please visit

Paren(t)thesis — Digital footprints

Paren(t)thesis — Digital footprints

NEW Jill Maher Headshot Dec 2013

We make mundane daily decisions about children’s sleep, food, and clothing. One of the small but longest-lasting parenting decisions may be how much we share about our children. Unless you’re a blogger writing a column about your child in the local newspaper, the most likely place to create a digital heirloom for your child is social media.

The digital heirloom probably includes photos and videos. Kudos to you, if you’ve pulled this one off, and extra points, if you’re printing out photo books as keepsakes. I’ve got two caches of photos—for a while I stashed them on a hosting site and I printed books, though that habit of creating books only lasted about two years. I’ve got another set on Facebook. Oh, yeah, and a third set stored primarily on my phone, where they are automatically backed up. If our daughter gets interested in pictures from childhood, which seems likely, I hope I can patch together a good biography.

Some people are bothered when other people post pictures of their children, especially with tags that identify them. Some are even annoyed when the child’s own grandparents post pictures, for fear of pedophiles or other criminals, or feeling that the poster violated a private moment inside a home. In researching this column, I read about “an unwritten rule of parenting that you don’t post pictures of other people’s children.” I haven’t heard of that rule and would have to scroll through my own history to see if I’ve been violating it.

Far-thinking parents try to rein in their child’s online identity by grabbing online names on sites like Twitter and Facebook and then prohibiting pictures of children or limiting the pictures to ones which wouldn’t be embarrassing or humiliating down the road. To me, it’s very challenging to determine what could be fodder for a bully or a teaser in 10 years—in my own childhood they were amazingly innovative and could even makes jokes about common American middle names—but it’s worth considering.

Then there’s the “words” part of a digital legacy. This one is more fraught with concern for many parents. How much should we be sharing about our kids for both safety and privacy?

Sometimes my daughter hangs out with me while I scroll through my Facebook news feed on our huge home monitor, where she can easily read over my shoulder. Should she be seeing what other parents post about her friends?

When we post, even if it’s banal, should we be using our children’s names? When we do so, we’re leaving behind a digital footprint that may live on indefinitely. I’ve partially addressed this by not using her first name online. Surely that’s not foolproof, but it seems like a logical step to take and one that a few friends employ. Perhaps it’s a tiny hedge against “bad guys” out to hurt kids or a hedge against embarrassment with future friends or even potential employers.

I often notice that it’s easy to feel uneasy in this new territory. Digital habits are one of the more difficult areas to navigate for ourselves, and now we need to guide our children as well.