Skip to content

Living On — But Who Owns Your Digital Legacy?

by Adam Drake on

Note, this is a response to The Conversation's article, An ‘AI afterlife’ is now a real option – but what becomes of your legal status?

What does it mean to live forever? Literally, in digital form, interacting with loved ones through artificial intelligence? Thanks to rapidly advancing AI, that question has shifted from science fiction to reality. Across the world, companies now offer digital twins, griefbots, or AI afterlives — replicas built from your texts, photos, voice clips, and more, designed to speak, remember, and even respond like you once did.

At first blush, the idea seems comforting. Imagine hearing your grandmother’s voice long after she’s passed. Or answering your own children’s questions from beyond the grave. We’re wired for stories, continuity, and presence — and in a culture still grappling with loss and memory, these technologies feel like a promise: “You never truly leave us.”

But here’s the rub: our laws, our ethics, and even our understanding of personhood haven’t kept pace.


Your Digital Self Isn’t You — Legally

Right now, in most places around the globe, you don’t own your identity as a legal asset in the way property or money is owned. There is no uniform legal framework that says a digital copy of you has rights, responsibilities, or status — even after you’re gone. In many jurisdictions, digital avatars are neither “persons” under the law nor protected by clear posthumous privacy rights.

That means:

  • Your AI replica could be created and used without your explicit consent — if someone else has access to your data.
  • There’s no guaranteed legal protection preventing companies from selling, altering, or monetizing your digital echo.
  • And there’s no federal law in the United States (yet) that treats digital afterlife creations as having legal standing or inheritance rights.

Digital presence is still treated as data — not identity — and digital legacy is governed more by platform terms than by estate law or human rights.


The Ethics of Eternal Conversation

Beyond legality, there’s the deeper question of impact. What does it mean for the grieving process if you can “chat” with a version of someone who’s no longer here? Does it comfort, or does it leave families in a loop of simulated interaction that never lets them fully grieve? And who gets to decide what that simulated voice says or becomes over time?

A version of a person can be eerily realistic — but it’s still a construct built from data, not consciousness. If a digital twin speaks in ways the original person would never have chosen — selling products, making statements, shaping memories — that’s not remembrance. That’s reshaping legacy without consent.


What Reflekta Believes — And What We’re Calling For

At Reflekta, we believe legacy should be intentional, sacred, and controlled by the person who lived the life — not left to default platform policies or corporate terms of service.

Here are principles we think should guide how we treat AI afterlife technologies:

1. Consent First, Always
Your digital likeness should only be preserved and used if you explicitly opt in during your lifetime.

2. Estate Rights Extended
Digital legacy should be treated as part of your estate — with clear rules about who can manage, delete, or interact with your digital self after you’re gone.

3. Ethical Boundaries on Use
AI recreations should never be allowed to speak or act in ways that misrepresent the person, profit without clear authorization, or distort memory.

4. Regulation Before Exploitation
Lawmakers must catch up to technology, offering clarity on data ownership, identity rights, and dignity in digital spaces.

Until then, your digital afterlife — and what becomes of it — stays in a legal and ethical shadow, shaped by contracts and code rather than by human values and intention.


Closing Thought

Technology can offer new ways to remember, but remembering shouldn’t mean replaying an echo on autopilot. Memory is sacred. Legacy should be chosen, not assumed. And even in a world of digital immortality, the real afterlife of your identity deserves more than a default setting.