Who will get your iTunes when you die?

‘World’s greatest’ chef Adria seeks digital legacy

Two years after closing the beachside Spanish restaurant—repeatedly lauded as the world’s best by those lucky enough to have dined there—Adria says he is now focused on preserving its legacy for future generations.

Widely regarded as the world’s best chef and credited with having changed culinary history by reworking familiar ingredients into unfamiliar dining experiences, Adria, 50, is now turning his attention to cyberspace.

He plans to impose a sense of chronology to food online with his “La Bullipedia” project, a curated database into which he aims to incorporate every piece of gastronomic knowledge available. Like his culinary creations, it is highly ambitious.

“The thing about the Internet is that it’s not in order,” he said in an interview in Hong Kong.

“We don’t have an order of what has existed in cuisine. Today you search for “white asparagus” and in English you have something like 1.5 million websites. Imagine how many you get in all languages.”

Adria was in Hong Kong last week to oversee a Sotheby’s auction of wines from elBulli, while a bid of nearly $30,000 won the chance to dine with him in his hometown of Barcelona. “I’ll probably take them to the football as well,” he joked beforehand. Another auction will take place in New York towards the end of the month.

Proceeds will go to the elBulli Foundation, the chef’s new non-profit research foundation, which is set to launch next year and is aimed at further developing his trailblazing approach to cooking. At the centre of it, he says, is the La Bullipedia project, which has been backed by Telefonica Digital and is scheduled to go live in 2015.

“We are taking fundamental aspects of digital technology such as algorithms and data and applying it to food,” he wrote on the BBC website last year.

“We are putting the combined knowledge of elBulli online where people can adapt and modify it, and draw inspiration from some of the most innovative recipes ever created,” he wrote.

“It’s a tool that gives information and knowledge. Then the cook puts in the soul,” Adria told AFP.

“Take the chocolate tart as an example,” he said.

“What are the best examples of chocolate tarts that led to the tart’s evolution? To create a new concept you have to have the information. Because if you don’t have that information, that’s when you end up copying.”

Adria, who joined the kitchen staff of elBulli in 1984, rocked the world of gastronomy by using science to “deconstruct” and rebuild food into new textures, contexts and experiences.

The Michelin three-star elBulli was open for only six months of the year. It had one daily dinner seating offering a degustation menu of some 40 small dishes at around 250 euros ($320) per head.

Each year about 8,000 diners were selected from a lottery system subscribed to by more than a million.

Britain’s Restaurant magazine ranked elBulli number one on its list of the world’s top 50 restaurants a record five times—in 2002 when the list was first published and between 2006 and 2009.

“The legacy of elBulli was a way of understanding life,” Adria told AFP. “Chefs move around so often that it will be easy to transmit this legacy around the world. They are mentors to other chefs, those chefs to others and so on.”

Indeed—part of Adria’s Hong Kong visit was also to lend his support to his protege Alain Devahive Tolosa, who spent a decade in the elBulli kitchen and also worked in its food research laboratory. Tolosa has brought his Catalunya restaurant to the city after opening in Singapore last year.

“I’m very happy to see that Spanish cuisine is getting the recognition it deserves in Asia. Tapas cuisine is very similar to Chinese cuisine, it is made to share,” Adria said.

Innovation, he says, will remain at the heart of everything he does, but it will be increasingly assisted by the power of digital technology.

“The world is changing super-fast, all concepts are changing. Thanks to the Internet, systems like the Michelin star will have changed completely in ten years,” he said.

Food blogs—which have come to dominate Asia’s gastronomical discourse in particular, turning diners on to new foods and giving small eateries valuable exposure—have helped fuel a democratisation of food reviews, he said.

“Bloggers are just as important as Michelin stars, especially locally. If I (one day brought a restaurant) to Hong Kong, I’d feel more confident if I had two good reviews by bloggers than a good write-up in a guide,” he said.

“But at the end of the day, everyone has to try to do things well. If you perform well there can be no problem.”

(c) 2013 AFP

Identity Theft Safeguard

What Does Managing a Loved One’s Digital Legacy Look Like?

With digital privacy in the media spotlight and digital estate planning resources entering our mainstream consciousness, many of us have been inspired to think about the end of life and our online selves. And we should. Hundreds of thousands of Facebook users die each year, the average American believes that she has almost $55,000 worth of digital assets, though most of us — 70 percent — don’t even have a will, and few states have laws governing what happens to our internet accounts when we die. The sheer magnitude of our digital lives can overwhelm us into inaction, thus we need real life inspiration. What does managing a loved one’s digital legacy really look like?

Digital planning
Digital planning

Meet Courtney.* She represents the average family caregiver: 34 years old, a full-time nurse, mother to a pre-teen daughter, with a half-brother who lives several states away and a younger brother in the military. Like many Americans, she lives on-line, utilizing at least 25 password-protected sites on different computers and a smart phone, where she stores and shares the vulnerable, mundane, and whimsical in her life while connecting to family and friends. Before her mother’s illness, she had thought little of her own digital assets, let alone those of anyone else. When she joined the one-third of the US population who provides care for an ill, disabled, or aged person — two thirds of whom are women, shepherding her terminally ill mother’s online presence in life and after her death became very important. We use Courtney’s story to give us a glimpse into the questions, tasks, unexpected dilemmas, and benefits that await us in caring and grieving in the digital age.

The news that her 58-year-old mother faced terminal cancer shocked Courtney and propelled her into caregiving action. Drawing on her nursing background and love of organization, Courtney created spreadsheets to track her mother’s medications and the signs and symptoms of her disease. She and her mother searched disease progression and treatment options on-line, making lists of questions for her doctors and finding support groups. Courtney also began a private blog, tracing her mother’s stays in the hospital, and she treasures pictures stored on her phone of her mother’s last Halloween, hospitalized but still trick-or-treating at the nurses’ station.

As her mother’s condition declined, Courtney realized that her own comfort level with sharing her personal story through digital media and her mother’s were different, and her mother’s wishes took precedent over her own. For example, she considered using a caregiving site likeCaringBridge to help her mobilize support, but her mother’s wishes for a high level of privacy during her illness meant private e-mail messages and texting were best. Before her mother’s illness, Courtney shared her life’s ups and downs regularly on Facebook and Twitter, but now she tried to follow general digital etiquette advice as best she could, speaking only from her perspective as a daughter, refraining from telling her mother’s story without her permission. Most of the time, though, she found herself too exhausted to share anything and used Facebook to unwind, living vicariously through the pictures, status updates, and tweets of her friends.

Courtney soon realized that she did not know what digital accounts her mother had, let alone what she would want done with them in the future. On one of her mother’s stronger days, they sat down to begin sorting through her digital life together. Clicking through her mother’s Shutterfly, Pinterest, ITunes and Facebook accounts became an opportunity for reminiscing. Because most digital accounts are non-transferrable, they decided what material needed to be saved to her computer’s hard drive, which accounts to close, and which accounts to leave active, like her Facebook page which she still enjoyed using to keep up on her distant grandkids and childhood friends.

Because of her mother’s wishes for privacy, Courtney was surprised when her phone began buzzing non-stop soon after her mother died:

It was weird, because I’d only told a few people that she was dying. I learned that a family friend had been posting detailed updates about my mother’s last moments, and never checked with us about whether we wanted privacy and time. I was very hurt by that. I just felt like the world needed to stop.

Upset that her brothers might learn of their mom’s death on Facebook and not from their sister, she called them immediately. For several days, Courtney tried logging in to her social media accounts, but seeing her mother referred to in the past tense overwhelmed her. She wanted to scream to her well-meaning friends, “I am not ready for my mother to be a “was” yet!” Courtney turned off her phone and asked her best friend to become her family’s informal digital proxy by posting updates from the family on Courtney’s Facebook page, including logistical information about the funeral service and burial. In turn, her friend shared with Courtney the many appreciative comments about her mother’s life from social media sites and from the on-line guest book for her mother’s obituary.

Inevitably, time passed, and Courtney began the long journey of grief, incorporating the death of her mother into her own life story, gaining narrative resilience word by word, click by click. Through Facebook, she gained access to memories and stories from the geographically dispersed group of her mom’s friends, even learning from them how much her mom appreciated the sacrifices she had made to care for her. She still views her mom’s Pinterest board, savoring those unique ideas and dreams. Courtney and her brothers have committed to weekly Skype dates, where they check in and stay connected as they each grieve their mom in their own ways. They have already taken the step of memorializing their mother’s Facebook page, mostly to have closure and to ensure her privacy will be protected.

Courtney’s story reminds us that even if we personally plan for the management and bequeathal of our digital assets and story, a trusted loved one will be the one to carry out our wishes. Some families could benefit from legal counsel, but much can be done informally, as we saw with Courtney’s family. The critical first step is recognizing how digital assets can both provide support and — paradoxically — overwhelm without careful management. The next step is deciding how best to use those assets.

Like Courtney, daughters will most likely be the ones to initiate the conversation, but not all of us will have the luxury of time and ability to talk about what we wish. The time to plan for our digital legacy, both assets and story, is now. Far surpassing any monetary value, our digital narrative assets hold tremendous sentimental value for those who will find comfort and meaning from our cloud of digital witnesses.

*Courtney’s name has been changed to protect her privacy. She represents one of the Gen X interview cohort interviewed by Amy Ziettlow and Elizabeth Marquardt for a forthcoming book on 21st century caregiving and grief.

Digital Files After Death, What Happens to Your Digital Legacy?

how to manage the digital legacy of the departed

In April, Google added to its services an Inactive Account Manager, which lets you designate an heir who will control your Google data when you die. You choose a length of inactivity, and if your accounts are ever quiet for that long, Google will notify your heirs that they’ve inherited access to your Gmail correspondence, YouTube videos or Picasa photo albums — whatever you specify.

It’s about time that Internet giants get in front of the privacy issue and offer users options for dealing with a digital legacy. After all, we live in an age where an increasing number of people make and share materials that live only in the digital world — nearly 50 percent of adult Internet users, for example, post homemade photos or videos online. A number of services can help with digital estate planning by designating password recipients or deleting accounts or files when you die. But communication and privacy laws have yet to catch up with technology. WhileFacebook made it possible for family members to convert the page of a loved one into a memorial a few years ago, the company has faced multiple lawsuits from family members who wanted deeper access to their kids’ Facebook accounts after a sudden death.

Clearly it’s important for people to consider who will have access and control over their digital data when the time comes. But this focus on privacy and access ignores the emotional significance of a loved one’s digital legacy.

“Right now the contemporary discussion is privacy and utility,” says Will Odom of the Human-Computer Interaction Institute at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh. “It’s not about how digital materials will be represented in any meaningful way.”

Think about how we interact with material heirlooms, items that are often deeply symbolic and sentimental. Your great-grandfather’s watch, an old photo album or stack of letters might be kept in special box on a high shelf or tucked in a particular drawer. We safeguard these items not just to remember the individual, but so future generations will know and remember too. And when the living ache to connect to the dead, it’s often in a ritualized setting: Letters might be read in a favorite chair with a glass of wine and a box of tissues. Photo albums are pulled out during holidays. We keep our relationships with lost loved ones alive by keeping their things.

Digital possessions — be they e-mails, texts, photos or tweets — are fundamentally different than tangible goods, says Odom, who has been investigating bereavement in the digital age. This makes digital materials particularly challenging to deal with after death. For one thing, there’s a matter of scale. Your house or apartment can contain only so many objects. People continuously get rid of tangible things as they acquire new ones, keeping only what’s important. But digital objects are spaceless. You don’t have to purge even if your inbox is bloated with thousands of unread e-mails. So it’s easy to end up with orders of magnitude more digital things than tangible ones. Digital objects are also oddly removed from view. While you can discern with a glance that the stacks of ancient National Geographic magazines in your parent’s attic are indeed stacks of ancient National Geographic magazines, you can’t tell what’s on a laptop and whether you want to keep that content just by looking at the laptop. This makes it especially difficult to make decisions about digital heirlooms.

“People end up in a weird holding pattern of keeping a phone or a desktop computer,” Odom says. “They want to keep it, but they are too overwhelmed to go into it.”

Recent studies by Odom and colleagues suggest that there may be something fundamental and ancient about how we interact with items left behind by the dead. While there currently aren’t easy ways to curate digital heirlooms, people sure do try. Many of the people the researchers interviewed were enacting similar rituals with digital objects that people use with material ones. One woman had 25 or so cherished text messages from her dead husband. She kept the SIM card and old phone in an ornate box and would take them out and read them from time to time. A woman from England buried her husband with his cell phone and kept sending him texts after he died.

Odom and his colleagues conclude that bereavement in the digital age might be easier if we had devices that allowed us to interact with digital objects in the same ways humans have interacted with heirlooms through the ages. As one woman who didn’t like the idea of storing special digital photos on a CD remarked: “They deserve better than that.”

Based on comments like that one, the researchers have designed three devices that display a deceased person’s photos, tweets and other digital heirlooms on screens embedded in oak veneer boxes. In tests, families said that they would want to keep the devices alongside their cherished physical heirlooms. As one mother put it: “Seeing it age with them — the things we’ll always have — it feels right.”

Learn How to Preserve Your Data with Take Control of Your Digital Legacy

US digital legacy laws in 2013

New Hampshire recently gave some thoughts about what happens to your facebook page when you die. More precisely, legislation is being changed so that an estate executor would be in a position to get a hold on the different social networks, emails, … after the death of the owner – which is something that is not the custom today.

Peter Sullivan is the State Rep. who started the movement of digital estate planning in the New Hampshire House of Representatives, which accepted this bill 222 to 128. The goal of these legislation is namely to give a better control of the situation to the persons who just suffered from a loss.

The other states so far are Rhode Island, Connecticut, Oklahoma, Idaho, and Indiana. The first and the second were the first states to introduce a control of digital legacy, but at the same time only applied on a limited number of services. Oklahoma was supported by a state legislator, Ryan Kiesel. Kiesel helped draft the texts, but according to his own advice, the issue must be addressed to by the federal government.

 

Let’s have a quick look at the different states and statuses. Here are attached links to the different texts concerning the current laws (as of beginning of 2013).

 

Rhode Island: The legislation simply allows an executor to access the accounts of emails of the departed.

Source: http://webserver.rilin.state.ri.us/Statutes/TITLE33/33-27/33-27-3.htm

 

Connecticut : The same applies – and still the question of social networks is not raised.

Source: http://www.cga.ct.gov/2005/act/Pa/2005PA-00136-R00SB-00262-PA.htm

 

Indiana: The executor can be granted access to “information being stored online”.

Source: http://www.in.gov/legislative/ic/code/title29/ar1/ch13.html

 

Okhlahoma: The text gives the executor (or an estate administrator) the right to be granted the access to emails, as well as social networks, accounts.

Source: http://legiscan.com/OK/bill/HB2800/2010

 

Idaho: The Idaho text allows the executor to take over and control the account of the decedent, including the Facebook, Twitter, as well as any email provider. The major difference resides in the fact that the executor can resume the use of the account, even on a posthumous base.

Source: http://legislature.idaho.gov/legislation/2011/S1044.pdf

 

Digital death is still a problem. A widow’s battle to access her husband’s Apple account

Leslie’s Digital Legacy

It is not a surprise to most when we hear that the life we are living today could end any minute. We have all come to expect death at some point. With this being said what we do in life defines us and what others will remember us by, but what all that we worked for could be taken away in the blink of an eye? This is the sad case for Leslie Harpold.

In the early 2000’s Leslie Harpold was an up and coming writer, graphic artists and editor. She was the total package when it came to freelance artists. Flooded with praise and respect Leslie was making a household name for herself in the online world. Then in 2006 the unimaginable happened. At the age of 40 Leslie had passed away leaving her family, friends, and clients in disarray.

With her life taken away and no way to come back Leslie had only her digital media left to carry on her digital legacy. Unfortunately for Leslie the story gets worse. Leslie was young and had never thought about death, she never thought about how she would be remembered and what to be left open to the public to view if she had passed. So on the horrific day that Leslie passed all of her digital legacy was automatically given to her parents. Maybe it was a coping mechanism, maybe they wanted something to not be seen, or maybe they just down right did not want to share their daughter is memory with the world. Regardless of the reason Leslie’s digital legacy was taken away.

Friends of Leslie had offered her family to take control of her websites with the clause that they would touch and alter anything. Just keep the website intact so others could experience the joy that Leslie had brought to the world. Unfortunately any sort of discussion with the family on this matter would go into a definite circle. They wanted no means of Leslie is past to be displayed. In the end no one could fight what the family wanted, they were automatically the ones who had control and not any of Leslie is friends.