Rod Stewart surprised concert-goers in Charlotte, North Carolina, with notable guests. His longtime friend, Ozzy Osbourne, who passed away last month, appeared as if reuniting with other stars who have departed, such as Michael Jackson, Tina Turner, and Bob Marley.

The AI-generated images stirred mixed reactions among Stewart’s fans, with some finding them disrespectful while others deemed them beautiful.

In a related incident, Jim Acosta, former CNN White House correspondent, interviewed a digital version of Joaquin Oliver, a victim of a 2018 school shooting in Florida. Avatars of the deceased teenagers, created by their parents, offered him a unique comfort.

Recently, Reddit co-founder Alexis Ohanian shared an emotional experience on X, describing an animation of his late mother holding him as a child, admitting, “Damn, I wasn’t ready for how this would feel.” He reflected on the pain of not having video footage of their time together and the impact of re-watching the animation.

These instances exemplify the rising trend of ‘digital revival,’ where photos, videos, and various media create representations of deceased individuals. Numerous companies now market “grief bots” or “death bots,” raising critical concerns regarding exploitation, privacy, and the grieving process.

Elaine Kasket, a cybermedicist based in London, stated, “It’s now very technically possible because large-scale language models such as ChatGPT are now easily accessible to the general public.” These models can generate credible representations, using texts, emails, voice memos, images, and other digital remnants to create something that resonates deeply with those left behind.

Just a few years ago, the notion of “virtual immortality” felt like a distant dream; now, creating interactive avatars is not only feasible but becoming increasingly sought after.

A 2023 YouGov poll commissioned by the Christian think tank Theos revealed that 14% of respondents expressed comfort in interacting with digital representations of deceased individuals, with younger individuals showing more openness to “deathbots.”

The instinct to maintain bonds with deceased loved ones is not new. Families have traditionally cherished personal belongings that connect them to those they have lost—be it photographs, videos, audio messages, or songs that evoke memories. Dreams of the departed or perceived sightings in familiar places are also common. Some have even turned to seances for communication.

Michael Cholbi, a philosophy professor at the University of Edinburgh and author of *Grief,* noted, “We’ve built monuments, preserved hair, and kept letters. The question now is: does AI add anything to this?”

Louise Richardson, from York University’s Philosophy Department, emphasized that by visiting graves and interacting with personal items, individuals retain a sense of connection with their departed loved ones. “Deathbots can fulfill a similar role but may hinder the natural grieving process,” she cautioned, explaining that continuous engagement with a deathbot could obstruct acknowledgment and acceptance of loss.

People often ponder what a deceased relative would say or do in specific situations; “Now it feels like you can just ask them.”

However, there’s a concern that deathbots may present overly sanitized versions of individuals, as families might exclude less flattering traits when providing information for the AI generator.

There’s also a risk of dependency on technology. A report from Theos highlights that “digital necromancy can be misleading. You might think you’re interacting with a person, but you’re actually communicating with a machine.”

The emergence of virtual avatars has gained traction in Asia, particularly in China, where creating a digital avatar for a loved one costs as little as 20 yuan (£2.20). Estimates indicate that this market was valued at 12 billion yuan (£1.2 billion) in 2022, with projections quadrupling by 2025.

For a more advanced interactive avatar that moves and speaks with clients, costs can reach thousands of pounds. One prominent funeral service provider, Fu Shou Yuan International Group, suggests that the deceased can “come back to life” in a virtual setting. According to the Chinese Funeral Association, the total cost for creating such avatars can amount to about 50,000 yuan.

Cholbi pointed out that while the commercialization of grief raises ethical concerns, the funeral industry has a long history of upselling and deceptive practices.

Kasket warns about issues of privacy and the rights to one’s digital remnants. “The deceased have no say or control over how their materials are used,” she stated, noting the ethical ramifications of utilizing digital content to create profitable avatars without consent.

Some individuals are beginning to specify in their wills a desire for their digital materials to not be used posthumously.

Interactive avatars aren’t only for the deceased; the successful Abba Voyage show features digital replicas of the iconic Swedish pop group performing as they did in their prime, earning an estimated £1.6 million weekly. Audiences revel in singing along with the avatars while the actual band members, now in their 70s and 80s, look on from home.

In a groundbreaking initiative, the UK’s National Holocaust Centre and Museum embarked on a project in 2016 to develop interactive avatars that can capture the voices and images of Holocaust survivors, enabling them to answer questions about their past in a future setting.

Cholbi noted that there’s an element of “AI hype” surrounding deathbots. “While some people may find this interesting, I anticipate that many will seek to maintain connections with the deceased through this technology for a considerable duration.”

He added, “This doesn’t imply that there won’t be enthusiastic participants; however, the prospects may not be as hopeful as commercial investors hope.”

Murazin highlighted that the rise of the deathbot industry prompts relevant discussions among ethicists and theologians. He suggested that the allure of digital revival could stem from a decline in traditional spiritual beliefs, leading to technological solutions that address the human desire for permanence and transcendence.”

“This reflects our modern era’s inclination to believe that technology can conquer death and offer eternity—a symptom of our contemporary culture,” he concluded.

Kasket remarked, “I have no doubt that these trends will continue to emerge and be utilized in beneficial ways.”

“When we lose our ability to navigate grief or convince ourselves that we cannot manage it, we risk becoming psychologically vulnerable. Grief and loss are fundamental aspects of the human experience, not merely technological challenges.”