A few months ago an episode of a television program sparked widespread public and professional debate. In that program, several people were exposed to digital recreations of the voices of their deceased relatives generated by artificial intelligence from real audio. These reenactments not only imitated the voices but also asked evocative questions, provoking intense emotional reactions in the participants.
The phenomenon, which we can call “digital resurrection”, involves the recreation of aspects of deceased individuals using advanced technologies. Although it may offer momentary consolation, this practice opens a profound debate about its ethical, philosophical and legal implications.
What does “being” really mean? By recreating the voice or image of someone who has passed away, we wonder if we are extending their existence in some way or simply creating a shadow without substance. The essence of a human being is undoubtedly more than a set of programmed responses or a projected image. The uniqueness of the lived experience, the emotions, the thoughts, all of this seems unattainable by mere digital simulation.
And so, what role does memory play in this process? Digital resurrection could be seen as an attempt to preserve memory, to keep alive the presence of those we have lost. But is it ethical to hold on to an artificial representation instead of letting memory evolve and transform over time?
Human memory is not static: it is selective, changes and adapts. By digitally recreating a person, do we risk altering our own authentic memories of them?
Furthermore, the question of identity arises. A person’s identity is a complex web of experiences and relationships. When we try to recreate someone, can we truly capture her identity or are we simply creating an idealized version, one that fits our own expectations and desires?
These technological advances also lead us to wonder about grief. Death is a natural part of life, and grieving is a necessary process to accept this loss. By trying to maintain a connection with the deceased through digital resurrection, are we interfering with this vital process? Could this prevent us from moving forward and finding peace in accepting loss?
Finally, the digital resurrection raises questions about consent and ownership. Who has the right to decide if a person should be digitally recreated? And how do you manage the consent of someone who can no longer express her will?
The prospect of doing business based on something as deeply human and painful as the death and loss of a loved one raises various questions from the field of philosophy, ethics and morality.
From an ethical point of view, this practice appears to transgress the fundamental principles of respect and dignity that should guide our human interactions. Grief is an intimate and sacred process, a path to acceptance and inner peace after a significant loss. Commercial intrusion into this process could be seen as a form of emotional exploitation, taking advantage of those who are going through a particularly vulnerable time.
Furthermore, this type of business could distort the natural grieving process. Pain and loss are essential experiences of the human condition, and facing them is part of our personal growth. If the commercialization of digital resurrection prevents people from moving through these stages in a healthy way, offering an illusion of presence rather than helping them accept the reality of absence, they may not benefit them.
On the other hand, from a moral perspective, it is worth asking about the intention and purpose behind these businesses. At first it seems that it is justified by the objective of providing comfort and a way to remember loved ones. However, where is the line drawn between providing comfort and exploiting pain for profit?
At the heart of the “digital resurrection” lies a profound and disturbing paradox: technology, in its attempt to bring us closer to those we have lost, confronts us with the inescapable reality of their absence. This paradox leads us to question not only the nature of existence, but also the essence of what it means to be human.
These technologies, when trying to make up for a lack or fill a void left by a loved one, not only highlight our desire to hold on to what we have lost, but also our difficulty in facing and processing grief in the face of the inescapable reality of death.
The paradox extends further when considering that, in our effort to preserve the memory and essence of loved ones, we turn to simulations that, due to their artificial nature, can never fully capture the complexity and depth of the real human experience. Thus, we are faced with the dilemma of embracing an imperfect and digitized representation that, although comforting in some ways, may not do justice to the true essence of the loved one.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Damián Tuset Varela is a researcher in Public International Law and AI and tutor of the Master’s Degree in International Relations and Diplomacy at the UOC
